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#winchester half-sister
Dean’s Plaid Shirts
My name is Holly Plake, and I am thirty-three years old. I am the younger half-sister of Dean (44) and Sam (40) Winchester; and the older half-sister of Adam Milligan (32; he is six months younger than me). Dean, Sam, Adam, and I were hunting a small vampire next for one last hunt several nights ago. Little did we know this was the hunt that Dean was going to die in.
Dean, Sam, Adam, and I were chopping off vampire heads left and right. Sam, Adam, and I didn't notice at first that this vampire pushed Dean into a nail sticking out of this pole that was supporting the barn. Unfortunately, the nail went straight through his middle. There was nothing we could have done to save him this time.
Sam is still walking around like a zombie and Adam won't leave his room. Adam constantly has his headphones in listening to Metallica which was Dean's favorite band. I am trying to be strong for my half-brothers like Dean would have wanted me to be.
I walk into his room. Open one of his drawers and take in the smell of Dean; and I put on the shirt. I continue smelling the shirt; and I start bawling my eyes out. Sam walks in. I say, "It should have been me not him. He pushed me out of the way for him to take out that one vampire that pushed him into that nail." Sam says, "Holly, Dean always said he wanted to go out swinging. That's what he did. He wanted the rest of us to have a normal life." Adam walks in and says, "Dean was being the protective big brother until the end, big sis." 
I sigh and say, "We have lost so many people already why did Dean have to die as well." Sam asks, "Gadreel?" I say, "Yes. I miss him every day." Adam asks, "Was Gadreel the only man you ever loved?" I laugh and say, "Technically, Gadreel is an angel not a man. But yes, the only male I have ever loved. Everything we know. He will be in the empty. No hope of seeing him ever again." Sam, Adam, and I share a hug.
70 years later
I am 101 years old now. I have watched Sam get married and have a son. Adam got married as well and had two daughters. I never got married nor had any children. I watched Sam and Adam age and die. I am still alive. I sit down on the rocker on my front porch and fall asleep.
When, I wake up I am on this long bridge overlooking what I believe is Washington. I look down the bridge. I see Dean, Sam, and Adam. Dean yells, "SUNSHINE!" I yell, "D!" We embrace. Sam says, "Nice to see you again, sis." I say, "I've missed you so much, Sammy." Adam gives me a hug; and, says, "There is some people you should see." I say, "Okay." I am not sure what Adam means.
We walk down the bridge and I see Castiel and Gadreel. 
I yell, "GADREEL!" Gad turns around and yells, "HOLLY!" We embrace each other into a hug. I notice that Dean and Castiel were making out. I roll my eyes. Dean breaks apart and laughs. I ask, "Finally got together I see?" Dean nods and says, "Yes." 
Then, I see Dad. I walk up and say, "Hi, Dad." Dad smiles and says, "There is my little princess." I smile.
I say, "Dean, still don't forgive you for pushing me out of the way in that vampire nest." Dean says, "I had a feeling that I needed to." I say, "It should have been me that died that night not you." Dean sighs and says, "Neither you nor me didn't want to know a life outside of hunting. Figured you were the one more likely to settle into a normal life." I say, "I never got married nor had kids. I was always in love with Gadreel." Dean sighs, "Like I was with Castiel." I nod. Dean hugs me and says, "Nice to see you again, Kiddo." I smirk and roll my eyes. 
Dean and I start singing our favorite Led Zepplin song, "Travelling Riverside Blues."
Asked sweet mama, Let me be her kid She said, "You might get hurt if you don't keep it hid"
Well I know my baby, If I see her in the dark
I said I know my rider, If I see her in the dark
Now, I goin' to Rosedale, Take my rider by my side
Still barrelhouse, If it's on the riverside, yeah I know my baby, Lord, I said, is really sloppy drunk I know my mama, Lord, a brownskin, but she ain't no plum
See my baby, tell her, Tell her hurry home
Had no lovin', since my baby been gone See my baby, Tell hurry on home I ain't had, Lord, my right mind, Since my rider's been gone
Hey, she promises, She's my rider
I wanna tell you, She's my rider I know you're mine, She's my rider She ain't but sixteen, But she's my rider
I'm goin' to Rosedale, Take my rider by side
Anybody argue with me man, I'll keep them satisfied Well, see my baby, tell her, Tell her the shape I'm in Ain't had no lovin', Lord, since you know when
Spoken: Why don't you come into my kitchen
She's a kindhearted lady. She studies evil all the time
She's a kindhearted woman. She studies evil all the timeShe's a kindhearted woman. She studies evil all the time
Squeeze my lemon 'til the juice runs down my leg
Squeeze it so hard, I'll fall right out of bed Squeeze my lemon, 'til the juice runs down my leg
Spoken: I wonder if you know what I'm talkin' about
Oh, but the way that you squeeze it girl
I swear I'm gonna fall right out of bedI swear I'm gonna fall right out of bed
She's a good rider
She's my kindhearted lady I'm gonna take my rider by my side I said her front teeth are lined with gold She's gotta mortgage on my body, got a lien on my soul She's my brownskin sugar plum
It was so good to be reunited with the love of my life and my family. I hug Dean again and start smelling him. Dean asks, "Are you smelling me?" Sam laughs and says, "Right after you died for months she would take one of your shirts out of your drawers in the room of the bunker. Then she would put it on and smell it until it went away then she moved on to the next shirt." Adam shrugs and says, "She grieved that way with you." Dean chuckles. I roll my eyes.
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roachingurcoach · 3 months
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okay I don't really know how to frame this. but like. funniest way to confirm Dean is Ben's dad is
20 year-old Ben takes a genetics test for fun or whatever, and the results he gets back are just batshit insane. it's like. oh hey. my biological father is a known serial killer who's still on the FBI's most wanted list and has been found or thought dead multiple times. and my uncle. and my grandfather. and my grandmother. and my--
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marie-swriting · 1 year
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A Part Of The Family - Dean Winchester
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Summary : You go on your first hunt with your father John and your half-brother Dean, hoping you'll finally be able to prove you're a true Winchester to your father.
Warnings : half-sister!reader, Y/N is 15, John is a shitty father, angst, feeling like you don't belong in the family, killing vampires, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language so tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.
Word count : 3.1k
French version
Prompt : PL n°1, n°10 "We could have prevented this"
“What are the rules ?” John asks you with a harsh voice.
“Always be on alert and ready to attack, kill first and ask questions later.” you answer, determined.
“Good, don’t forget you have to cut their head or they’ll still be able to attack. As it’s your first time on the field, you stay close to me or Dean, right ?”
“Yes, sir.”
John hands you a machete before closing the trunk of the Impala. You feel a knot in your stomach as you realise you’re only a few minutes away from the most dangerous moment of your life. Your hands start shaking, you tighten your grip on your weapon, hoping it’ll give you more courage. Rapidly, you look up and see Dean’s eyes on you. He puts a hand on your shoulder to reassure you. You give him a quick smile but the fear can still be read on your face. When you’re finally ready, you start entering the vampire nest.
You’ve been on their trails for a few days now and thanks to your personal researches, you found where they’re hiding. Now, you hope you’ll be able to kill these monsters without making a mistake, you want to show John he did a good thing by taking you out of the foster system after Sam left for University. Indeed, when the younger Winchester decided to leave the family business, John didn’t like being one hunter short so he came to get you, knowing he’ll have your custody easily because your mom died at your birth. Until he’d come to your foster family, you didn’t know your father’s identity, let alone that you had two big brothers. When you met them, an immense amount of joy had filed you, you thought you’d finally belong to a real family. John had said to your foster parents he came to have your custody because he just discovered your existence. He made a beautiful speech to them on the importance of having his daughter in his life. When he had pronounced those words, your heart had burst with love, but reality caught you up quickly when he immediately put an emotional distance between you before starting your hunter training. You knew it wouldn’t be easy but you want to prove to him he can count on you during hunts so you make sure to always give your best. However, John is demanding, you feel like you’ll never meet his expectations and because of the pressure you can make some mistakes. Fortunately, Dean knows to be patient with you, he protects you from John's reprimands.
When you’re in the old building, you’re faced with a heavy silence. It doesn’t feel like there’s any threat on the horizon while you’re getting deeper into the nest. You keep walking discreetly and glancing in every corner until you find some kind of cage with a prisoner inside. With a glance, you recognise Jake, a teenager your age who’s been helping you to find the vampires. He had started searching for them before you arrived ; his sister was one of their victims. Together, you had put your skill to good use, you with your supernatural knowledge and him with his knowledge of the city and its residents. When you see him, you lower your machete and run toward the cage.
“Jake ! My God, you’re okay ? Did they do anything to you ?” you question, examining his body quickly with your eyes.
“You know him, Y/N ?” John interrogates.
“He helped me to find the nest.” you inform before turning back to your friend. “You’re okay, Jake ?”
“I’m fine.”
“We’re getting you out of here, don’t worry.” Dean states while starting to force the lock.
“Kid, do you know where the vampires are ?” John questions with a dry tone.
“No, I just regained consciousness, actually. Thanks.” Jake says when Dean finally frees him.
Jake gets out of his small prison stumbling. You catch him when he’s losing his balance. You’re about to ask him if everything is fine when you see pointy teeth coming out of his gum. Surprised, you don’t have the reflex to lift your machete up. Dean and John are about to intervene when other vampires leave their hiding place. You finally push back Jake, scared but he comes back to you again. You try to fight him with your weapon but Jake breaks your arm, forcing you to drop it. Dean hears your cry of pain and turns his head to you. He sees Jake about to bite you in the neck when Dean runs to you and cuts Jake’s head without a second thought. You’re too stunned from what’s just happened to move.
“Everything okay ?” Dean questions, preoccupied.
“Yes, don’t worry.”
John growls angrily, making yours and Dean’s head turn to him. Dean leaves you to help John. You pick your machete up from the ground and try to at least hurt some vampires. Not able to use your dominant hand, you have even less strength to cut heads. By some miracles, probably due to adrenaline, you cut the head of one blood-drinker. In spite of yourself, you stare at the body and their head, not believing you’re the cause of it. Snapping out of it, you look up and see that most of the vampires are dead. John is handling the Alpha vampire while Dean seems to lose his fight with another monster as he’s struggling to get their fangs away from his neck. You run to him and cut the vampire’s head with all the strength you have. When Dean understands he’s not in danger anymore, he sets his gaze on you, proud to see you were able to save him. You can’t help but smile lightly as you realise that, for a first hunt, you did pretty well. With your valid hand, you help him to stand up while John finally kills the Alpha vampire. You look at John, hoping to see he’s happy or at least relieved to know you and Dean are alive and almost not hurt, beside your broken arm, but it’s an angry John who comes your way.
“What the hell was that ? We got ourselves in an ambush because of your stupidity ! How could you not understand Jake was a vampire when he was helping you ? Don’t tell me you didn’t even think about checking him before telling him everything !”
“He… I…” you stutter, making John even more mad.
“Answer !”
“He told me he was looking for the vampires, too but he didn’t know how to attack them.” you explain, feeling ashamed.
“And you didn’t think it was weird he knew that much ?”
“He said he’d been researching for two months so it seemed normal to me.” you defend yourself and John sighs to contain his anger.
“Damn it, Y/N, that’s unbelievable ! We could have prevented this if you had some common sense !”
“Dad, she’s still learning. It’s okay.” Dean intervenes with a calm voice.
“Not when she puts us in danger ! We could have died and she has a broken arm. She should have done better !”
While listening to John’s reproach, you lower down your head. On second thought, the hunt went worse than you thought. You put your loved ones in danger and you disappointed John. it’s going to be even harder for you to find your place in your little family and you hate yourself for that. John is right, you should have done better.
“We’re all alive and they are all dead. It’s a win.” your brother insists.
“I don’t care if we did well ! She should have thought like a hunter.”, John retorts before taking you by your shoulder with strength, forcing you to look at him with a wince, “You better not do that again, next time, use your head.”
“Yes, sir.”
John sighs, letting go of your shoulder. Dean has a quick peek at you to make sure you’re okay, you give him a quick nod to reassure him, but your glistening eyes don’t convince him.
“Come on,” John starts, “we have to go to the hospital for your arm, we can’t fix it. Another waste of time because of your stupidity.”
“I’m sorry.” you breathe, ready to cry in any second.
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t change anything. And get those tears out of your eyes, half Winchester or not, Winchesters don’t cry.”
“Yes, sir.”
Your shoulders drop when you follow John while Dean looks at you with compassion. He knows what it’s like to fight for John’s approval, it’s very rare to gain it, even for him it’s complicated while he does everything John tells him.
In the Impala, John doesn’t say a word, too angry he doesn’t even take a quick glance at you, as for Dean, he wishes he could reassure you, but he doesn’t want to get John more mad. You hold your arm to minimise the pain on the way while you think back to John’s words. Among every thing he reproached you about, his last sentence hurt you the most. Since he came to get you, you know John treats you differently than Dean, he doesn’t see you as a part of the family. Yet, it doesn’t stop you from feeling your heart burst out in pain every time he reminds you of it when he specifies your only Dean’s half-sister or when he refuses you calling him ‘dad’, that one hurts the most.
When you arrive at the hospital, there aren't a lot of people, surprisingly so you just have to wait an hour and a half to be taken in charge of. When your cast is on your arm, you go back to the motel still in silence. You bite your lips, stressed while you’re searching for something to say to rectify your mistakes but you don’t really know John, you ignore what you should say. When you walk through the door of your motel’s bedroom, John points the small kitchen table to you. Reluctant, you walk toward it without a word and sit. Dean starts following you but John orders him to get cleaned up. Knowing it’s not the time to challenge him, Dean obeys. John stays on his feet in front of you, towering you with his height. Instinctively, you look down on your fingers, fidgeting with them until John starts talking.
“I hope you realise what you did was dangerous.”
“Yes, I won’t do it again, promise.”
“You better ! You could have died and so could have your half-brother. At least, you did kill some vampires but apart from that, you ruined this whole hunt ! If you don’t want to go back to your foster family, you better be more useful next time. I don’t need a deadweight but a hunter.” he rumbles.
“I’ll do better next time.” you assure him, determined.
“We’ll see in a few months because with your bullshit, you got yourself a broken arm. You’ll be in charge of the research and when you’ll be able to train again, we’ll get back to it and this time, I’ll be more strict. You need to learn correctly, I can’t have a kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing.” John spats, emphasising on the word ‘kid’, hurting you once more. “Don’t make me regret my decision to get you. And get that sad look out of your face, I can’t waste my time with weak people either.”, he orders and you try to get a grip on yourself, “I’m going to the bar.” he finishes, walking away from you. 
Without a glance, John leaves the room. When you hear the door slam shut, you jump. Tears filling your eyes in an instant. You try to hold them back but the more you blink, the harder it is to prevent them from falling. In spite of yourself, a tear rolls down your cheek. You wipe it away quickly, hoping Dean didn’t see anything because he just got out of the bathroom. You take deep breaths, trying to cool down your emotions. Dean delicately puts a hand on your shoulder and kneels down in front of you. 
“Hey, kid, you’re okay ?”
Contrary to John, the word ‘kid’ in Dean’s mouth seems affectionate. You see in his eyes he’s genuine, but you refuse to show you’re weak for another second. You clear your throat before looking him in the eyes.
“Yeah, just tired of the day. John went to a bar.”
“Just you and me, then ? What do you say about going to the Burger in front of the motel ?” he proposes with a smile.
“I’m not really hungry and I wouldn’t like John to get even more mad because he won’t find us when he’ll get back.”
“He’ll be in that bar for some time, don’t worry, besides, you need to recharge your battery, you did your first hunt !” he states, hoping it’ll cheer you up.
“What a victory it was !” you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“You got through it with only a broken arm and it was a vampire nest, I call that a victory. C’mon.”
Dean helps you to stand up from your chair. He puts back on his jacket and takes his wallet before inviting you to leave the motel.
At the Burger place, you almost don’t eat anything. You swallow only some French fries but don’t touch your hamburger while Dean devours everything in a heartbeat. Dean doesn’t start a conversation, guessing you need some silence after everything John told you. Dean knows he wasn’t kind with you the second time he reprimanded you with the small part he was able to hear through the bathroom walls. Furthermore, Dean and you have been knowing each other only for a few months now, he ignores if in this kind of situation, you’d rather talk or stay on your own. Just to be safe, he prefers to stay close to you without being oppressive so that's what he’s currently doing. When he’s finally done with his meal, he asks for a doggy bag for yours and goes to pay. On the way back, you don’t see the Impala, which reassures you because you know you still have some time off before John’s return. Entering the room, you take your stuff and close yourself in the bathroom. When you’re ready to go to sleep, you lay on your bed, your back facing Dean who’s on his own bed watching TV. You try to sleep but John’s words keep haunting your mind. The more you think back about the hunt, the more you realise how naive you were. Mentally, you’re calling yourself names, telling yourself that because of your mistakes you lost what little esteem John had for you. Feeling your tears again, you try to breathe slowly. You can’t cry, especially with Dean next to you. He can’t see how weak you are or you'll go down in his estimation as well and it’s the last thing you want. Despite your tries to be discreet, you sniff, drawing Dean’s attention to you. At first, he doesn’t think too much about it, but when he hears your heavy breath and your sniffing several times, he gets up from his bed and comes to you. He sits down next to you and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. Feeling his presence, you don’t dare to move, waiting for him to scold you.
“Wanna talk about it ?” he questions softly.
“There’s nothing to say.” you state.
“Y/N, I know how his words can affect someone.”
“He’s right, I’ve been stupid, I should have been a better hunter.”
“You’re fifteen and you’re still learning.” Dean retorts, “You were naive, it’s true, but a few months ago, you still thought vampires were some kind of legend from Transylvania, not the reality. You can’t be perfect from the start. You were bound to make mistakes on your first hunt, you can’t be mad at yourself for that. Believe me, I made worse mistakes on my first hunts”, he tries to reassure you but you’re still silent, “Y/N, could you look at me ?”
“No, I don’t want you to think I’m weak.” you refuse, ashamed.
“Why would I think that ?”
“Winchesters don’t cry. Even if I’m not a real one.” you say, repeating John's words.
Dean sighs, trying to find something to say. He hates the way John’s words already got into  your head. He wishes he could reassure you like a big brother should but he’s still facing your back, not wanting to confront him. He knows he shouldn't take it personally but knowing you think he could act like John tightens his heart.
“I know I’m not well placed to say this,” he starts, hesitating, “but you can cry. Before being hunters, we’re humans.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you like I disappointed John.” you whisper, sniffing.
“You’re not gonna disappoint me and as for John, he’ll get over it, you can trust me. When you’ll be fully trained, he’ll see how excellent of a hunter you are.” Dean affirms.
“If he didn’t send me back to my foster family by then.” you add.
“I won’t let that happen.”, your big brother states, determined, “Now that I know I have a little sister, I can assure you you’re stuck with me as long as you decide otherwise.”
“Half-sister.” you correct, John’s voice still echoing in your head.
“In other words, my sister. You’re a part of the family.” Dean insists and you feel a new tear rolling down your cheek.
“Why are you so nice to me ? You didn’t even know I existed six months ago, you have  every right to ignore me.” you question with a trembling voice.
“I just told you, we’re family, I care about you.”
Without responding, you turn around before throwing yourself in his arms. All the tears you’ve been holding back for the past few months finally roll down your cheeks. Feeling your shoulders shaking, Dean holds you closer against him. He strokes your back, inviting you to let all your emotion leave your body. His heart breaks a bit more when he realises how much you’ve been holding back to at least satisfy John a bit. He knows the pain all too well so that night, he makes sure you know he’ll always be there to support you. Your head still hiding in the crook of his neck, you stay in his arms, accepting for the first time the comfort of your big brother.
Masterlist
{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}
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seanwinchester · 1 year
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Sam / Jo parallels
feeling like a freak / 2.06 / 1.06
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getting kicked out of the house for rebelling / 2.10 / 1.01
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hunting to be closer to their dad / 2.06 / 2.02
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dean's little sibling / 2.14 / 3.07
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their only family following them to the grave / 5.10 / 2.09
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I rewatched a few episodes with jo and now this is what you get. people have paralleled them before but enjoy one more post about it.
bonus (for funsies):
you're afraid of my mother?- I think so // dad, you're scaring me
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streets-in-paradise · 3 months
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Actually, it's ironical the lack of self awareness of my mom in how she raised me and my sister differently because when we were kids i looked exactly like her (chubby and curly haired) while my sister was the photocopy of her dream in how she wished she could look like ( skinny and straight hair).
Almost as if i was the vessel for projections of her self hate while my sis was the beloved image of her aspirationalism, like the before and after in an infomercial.
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xoteajays · 2 years
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jude winchester (supernatural)
jude winchester is daddy’s little disappointment 2.0.
she only finds this out when she meets disappointment numero uno, her older half-brother dean winchester, and his (and her) along-for-the-ride brother, sam. none of the three are happy about this fact. john wrung her through the hunting business and left her dry, only for her to end up barely-a-hunter and a so-called ‘spiritual scammer’, traversing the country to lie to people a la tarot cards and scarcely ever picking up a hunt.
getting hauled along with her annoying-ass half-brothers wasn’t her initial plan, but if she gets to finally track down her deadbeat dad and give him a peace of her mind, so be it then.
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 5 months
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Just Keep Breathing
Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, Castiel & Winchester!reader, Rowena & Winchester!reader
Requested by Anonymous (x2)
Synopsis: You get sick from a mysterious illness, and you just can’t seem to get better.
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“Finally!”
Dean’s voice was the first you heard as you stumbled into the bunker after an insanely long school day. You were somehow sweating and freezing at the same time, and it felt like you might collapse any second.
“Grab a book, there’s a ton of lore to go through,” Dean continued. “We’re looking for more info on witches, seems like there might be…” Dean’s voice trailed off when he looked up to see you all but slumping down the stairs. “Hey kid, you ok?”
“Mm-hmm,” you huffed in response as your backpack dropped to the floor—had you done that? You didn’t remember making the decision to take it off, it seemed to just fall off your slumped shoulders on its own.
“Ok, commere.” You blinked and there was Dean, his hand lifting to your forehead and his brow drawn in concern. “Jeez, you’re burning up.”
At Dean’s words, Sam looked up.
“She’s sick?” He asked.
“Yeah.” Dean removed his hand and lowered himself to one knee to look at your downturned, unfocused gaze. “Sweetheart, look at me.”
You tried to focus on Dean’s eyes, but your gaze refused to settle.
“Yeah ok,” Dean sighed. “Let’s get you to bed.”
You let Dean lead you to your room and tuck you into bed. He even helped you take your shoes off when your fingers fumbled with the laces.
“Did you eat today?” Dean asked as you settled in.
“I…” you wracked your befuddled brain. “I had lunch…but then I threw it up sometime after sixth period.”
“Ok.” Dean cringed. “You get some sleep, I’m gonna go make you food.”
“Nooo.”
Dean turned in surprise at your desperate whine.
“What? What’s wrong?”
You grabbed at his sleeve and tugged.
“Don’t go,” you sniffled. “I don’t want food, I just want you to stay.”
“Ok, ok,” Dean relented, figuring that once you were asleep he could make you something. “You better not get me sick,” he said, only half kidding, as he sat on your bed. When you reached out to him, he went to put his arms around you, but the second his hands touched you, you flinched away.
“That hurts!” You were starting to cry now as you backed away from your brother.
“What hurts?” Dean was baffled. “I barely even…” he trailed off as he pressed the back of his hand to your head again, ignoring the way you hissed and tried to flinch away from him. “Jeesh, it’s even worse now,” Dean mumbled. “Just lay back now, you gotta get some sleep, ok?”
“Don’t go,” you begged.
“I’m not going anywhere, just take it easy sweetheart,” Dean promised. “Get some rest.”
Dean waited until he was sure you were asleep before he went to talk to Sam.
“She asleep?” Sam asked, not even looking up from the lore book he was studying.
“Yeah…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Sam, something’s wrong.”
“Wrong? What, with Y/N?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it…she was getting hot so fast, and when I tried to touch her, it was like I burned her or something. I don’t know, I guess I can’t be sure, but something about her getting sick doesn’t feel…normal.”
“Ok.” Sam nodded. “Well, you call around at the school and see if there’s a bug going around. I’m gonna hit the lore a bit more.”
The boys didn’t speak as they got to work.
Sam was heading to the kitchen when he heard you calling for him. He detoured into your room, his heart constricting when he saw you—you were pale and sweaty, the sheets sticking to your skin. He couldn’t tell if your cheeks were glistening from tears or sweat—it was obvious you were in pain.
“Hey honey,” he greeted gently. “Did you need something?”
“Can you stay with me?” You pleaded. Sam didn’t hesitate, coming over to sit on your bed. You reached out to hold his hand, but when your fingers touched his you hissed and pulled away.
“Something wrong?” Sam asked, remembering what Dean had said.
“It hurts.” Now there was no mistaking the tears on your face for sweat—Sam had never seen you so upset and in pain. “It’s like-like my skin is on fire and-and I just want a hug but when anybody touches me it just—it just gets worse.” You were out of breath and choking on your words by the end, and it took every ounce of Sam’s will to ignore his big brother instinct and not pull you into his arms—the last thing he wanted was to hurt you worse.
“Stay right here, I’m coming right back,” Sam said as he stood. You didn’t say anything, you just watched curiously—and a little worried—as Sam left. Sure enough, he returned a minute later with a bowl full of water and a glove.
“Ok, I’m gonna try something, hold still,” Sam instructed.
You started to giggle when Sam pulled the glove on and plunged his hand in the bowl. He grinned at you, happy to hear you laughing again.
“Ok now, hold still,” Sam insisted. “This is serious.” But he was still grinning as he took his dripping, gloved hand and pressed it against your forehead. “How does that feel?”
You closed your eyes in contentment as the cool water hit your skin and the gentle cloth brushed against your forehead.
“Better,” you told Sam with a smile. “Thanks, Sammy.”
“Anytime,” Sam said.
The two of you stayed like that for most of the afternoon, with Sam comforting you and trying to cool you off with the wet glove. Sam was determined to do anything he could to make you feel better while Dean was trying to investigate the cause of your illness. He’d also been calling Cas all day, but he hadn’t gotten an answer.
Dean was just about to give up on the books and catch a few hours of sleep when he heard Sam calling for him. He followed the sound to your room, where he found his little siblings resting on your bed.
“Can you sing me a song?” You asked, shyly picking at your sheets.
“Uhm…” Dean swallowed, a little uncomfortable. “Sure sweetheart.”
Sam relented his spot next to you so that Dean could climb in. He started off just humming “Hey Jude,” and within minutes you were fast asleep.
“You were right, Dean,” Sam said when he was sure you were asleep. “I don’t know what it is but—but it’s bad.”
“Ok well we don’t need to panic,” Dean assured him, noticing Sam’s rising anxiety. “She’s been sick before, let’s just give it a little longer and see what happens. Maybe Cas’ll finally come around and set her straight.”
“I don’t remember,” Sam mumbled.
“What?” Dean asked.
“Her getting sick. I barely ever remember her being sick.”
“Dad always sent you to school whether she was sick or not. I usually stayed behind to take care of her.” A ghost of a smile passed across Dean’s lips. “Most of the time I had to convince dad that I’d caught whatever she had so that he’d let me stay with her. I never wanted to leave her when she was sick.”
Sam was quiet for a long moment before a thought occurred to him.
“I don’t ever remember you sick.”
At this, Dean shrugged.
“I usually just powered through it. I had a job to do, after all.”
Sam was about to comment on that when his eyes suddenly snapped to you.
“Dean, is…is she breathing?” Dean jumped up as Sam moved closer to you. “Dean she’s not breathing!”
Dean blocked Sam from getting in the way and grabbed hold of your shoulders.
“Hey…hey!”
You jolted awake when Deans shook you, taking a great gulp of air the moment you were awake.
“Hey…ok…” Dean breathed a sigh of relief, holding you in his arms until he heard you crying as you tried to pull away. “You ok?” He asked as he let you go.
“It still hurts,” you sniffled. “What…what happened?”
“You stopped breathing,” Sam said. “It…jeez kid, you scared us.”
Dean noticed that your breaths still sounded labored.
“Are you ok?” He asked.
“It…it kinda hurts,” you muttered almost to yourself as you rubbed at your chest.
“Breathing?” Sam met Dean’s eyes—they were terrified.
Your only response was a tiny nod as you continued to take shallow breaths.
“I’m gonna try Cas again,” Dean said, standing from your bed.
“I’m…” Sam hesitated, as though he didn’t want to tell Dean what he was thinking. “I’m gonna call Rowena.”
“Rowena?” Dean demanded. “Why?”
“Because we don’t know what this is, Dean!” Sam insisted. “For all we know, she got cursed! We were looking into witch activity in the area. Maybe Rowena can help.”
Dean backed off.
“Fine. Call her.”
“I can’t heal her.”
“That’s because it’s a spell, you idiot.”
“I can’t be sure of that.”
“Well I can!”
“Ok, ok,” Dean interrupted Rowena and Cas’s argument. “This isn’t helping anything. Rowena, what can you do?”
“Not much I’m afraid,” Rowena sighed. “I can’t undo the spell.”
“Well can you at least tell us what the spell is?” Sam cut in before Dean had a chance to get angry.
“That’s easy enough. It seems to be some kind of…anti-body spell.”
“What does that mean?” Dean demanded.
“It means that her body is slowly starting to reject what it needs or wants the most. Basic needs like food, water, probably even sleep, will start to hurt her.”
“It hurt when I touched her skin,” Sam interrupted.
Rowena shrugged, and continued. “I suppose the need or desire for physical affection counts. It will get worse, though. Things that she can’t live without will be too painful for her to do. Eventually even breathing will be unbearable.”
“It already hurts to breathe.” Everyone had all but forgotten you were there until you made yourself known. Your voice came out in a terrified whisper, but everyone heard you clearly.
“We’re gonna fix it,” Dean asserted. “All we have to do is find the witch, right? Then kill her.”
“It might not be that simple,” Rowena sighed. “I mean, it could’ve been anyone. For all we know, they put a spell on Y/N to make her forget them.”
“Then what are we gonna do?!” Dean demanded.
“You and Cas try to find that witch,” Sam jumped in, trying to find a way to keep panic down. “We already have a head start, since we were pretty sure one was in the area anyway. You know where most of the strange activity was, start there. Rowena and I will stay here, try and see if there’s an undo spell.”
Dean didn’t hesitate to agree. If he wasn’t so preoccupied worrying over you, he would’ve been very proud of Sam, stepping up while he was panicking. Now that Dean had a direction, he was calmer—he was ready.
“Ok. Let’s go.”
“Please don’t leave me.”
Dean and Cas had already left, and Rowena and Sam were halfway out of your room when you tear-strained voice reached Sam. He turned to face you, and his resolve to hit the books in the library crumbled when he saw you, shaking in fear and taking shallow, painful breaths.
“Bring me some books to look through,” he muttered to Rowena before coming to sit on your bed.
It was silent in your room for a few deafening seconds, before your shattered gaze met Sam’s and you spoke, breaking his heart.
“I don’t wanna die, Sammy.”
“Hey,” Sam turned to face you, resisting once again the urge to pull you into his arms. “Me and Dean are never gonna let that happen. You know that, right?”
“It-it hurts to breathe,” you cried. “And it keeps getting worse. I don’t—I don’t know how long I can do it.”
“Hey, hey…” Sam was reaching for you when he remembered that that would only make you hurt worse. His hand froze in the air, halfway to your face. “I…” Sam‘s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t…don’t say that, ok? You have to keep fighting, ok? We’re gonna find a way to fix this, but you just have to keep fighting.” Sam was so desperate to hug you that he pulled his sleeves over his hand to cover his skin and pulled you into his arms. You allowed it for several seconds, wanting so desperately to just sink into his arms. But you couldn’t.
“That…” you struggled to get the words out; you didn’t want to say them. “That hurts, too, Sammy.”
Sam flinched back like he’d been shot, looking down at you in utter defeat.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
The despair in the room was total.
“I’ve got it!”
Sam regretted his outburst when you jolted awake. Rowena had warned the both of you that sleeping might end up making you hurt more rather than feel better, but you had all but passed out from exhaustion and pain, and Sam didn’t have the heart to stop you. Even in sleep, your body and face twitched in pain periodically.
Now that you were awake, it was obvious that Rowena was right; it had made it worse.
“What—“ your breathing was labored as each breath pained you. “What happened?”
Rowena stepped into the room, having heard Sam’s declaration.
“I found the spell,” Sam insisted, holding the book up. Rowena approached him with a dubious frown. However, once she started to read the spell she slowly nodded.
“This might just do it,” she said.
“I’m gonna call Dean.”
Dean and Cas returned within an hour.
“Not a single lead,” Dean said, annoyed. “So this had better work.”
“Let’s hope so,” Sam sighed, looking at Rowena. She nodded.
“It’s a good thing that this bunker is well-stocked,” she said. “I believe we’re running out of time.”
Your gaze turned downwards when everyone glanced at you at Rowena’s words. Sure enough, your breaths had been getting shallower and shorter in your failed attempts to make them hurt less. You were also weak and pale from the lack of food and water you’d had over the past two days.
“Do it.” Dean was the first to look away from you as he spoke to Rowena.
Rowena handed you a cup filled with a mixture of herbs and things you didn’t want to know about. Your lip was quivering as you lifted the cup to your lips—you’d avoided food and water for a reason; if breathing was like a stab to the chest, how would swallowing down a potion feel?
Sam’s heart was breaking as he watched you struggle to swallow through the pain, and Dean couldn’t even look.
As soon as you had the potion down, Rowena started reading a Latin incantation from the book. Sam watched you carefully as Rowena finished it. He crossed his fingers behind his back, holding his breath as he hoped that your own would become less labored. Instead, your eyes widened in surprise as your breaths became even more panicked.
“What’s happening?” Dean demanded, his eyes flashing from you to Rowena. “What did you do?!”
“I-I don’t understand…” Rowena muttered, flipping through the book. “It should have…”
“Sam…De…” you whimpered.
Dean’s panicked eyes met Sam’s, then yours, before they went back to Rowena.
“Found it!” Rowena breathed relief, before her eyes once again clouded with worry. “Oh no.”
“What?” Sam and Dean demanded in unison.
“The-the counterspell…it takes an hour to work, and as it works through the curse, the curse…fights back.”
“What does that mean?” Dean’s breathing sounded almost as labored as yours as he struggled to keep down his fear as well as his anger.
“It means that it’ll get worse before it gets better. If we…if we had found this at the beginning, it would’ve worked easily, but…”
“But she might not survive an hour like this,” Cas finished for Rowena, realizing what she was saying before either brother.
“What can we do?” Sam asked.
“Nothing.” Rowena shook her head. “This spell was her only hope, so…so we just have to wait and see if she outlasts the curse now. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour.”
“Ok,” Dean said, coming to sit by you. “You can do this kiddo, ok? We’re gonna be right here, you’re gonna be fine.”
The seconds crawled by one eternity at a time. Every time Dean thought you couldn’t look more in pain, your face twisted again as you tried over and over to take a deep enough breath to satisfy your starving lungs. Once it reached fifteen minutes left, Dean noticed that every minute or so you stopped breathing completely.
“Hey, c’mon.” Dean resisted the urge to cup your face. “C’mon keep breathing, you can do it.”
Suddenly you were reaching your arms out to Dean, and he was backing away.
“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said.
“Don’t…care,” You whimpered. “I…n-need y—“ you couldn’t seem to get out full words, but Dean didn’t need anything more.
“Ok, yeah.” You were in Dean’s arms in a second. “Ok, I’m here sweetheart. I’m here, you just gotta keep breathing. Keep breathing for me.”
You burrowed against your big brother despite the pain, trying all you could to keep breathing. The pain was so blindingly unbearable that you started to feel your vision blur and blacken. Sam was the first to notice you drooping in Dean’s arms, and he reached down and pulled your face away from Dean’s chest so he could look at you.
“Hey, you gotta stay awake honey,” Sam insisted.
“Don’t let her sleep!” Rowena commanded. “Her body will stop breathing automatically if she passes out.”
“Hey, hey,” Dean’s gentle taps to your face felt like full-on punches, but they did the trick. Your eyes fluttered open once more, and your hands gripped onto Dean even harder. Sam had joined Dean on your bed, his one arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind while Dean continued to hold you in his lap. Their touch was like fire on your skin, but never had a burn been so welcome.
“Keep breathing,” Dean was repeating over and over, and without that mantra you truly would have stopped ten minutes ago.
“Seven more minutes,” Cas announced.
You went to take another small breath, and you couldn’t keep the cry of pain in when it was the worst pain yet. It hit you so hard that you felt the darkness returning.
“No no no, hey,” Dean pleaded. “Breathe kiddo, you’ve gotta keep breathing.”
You’d barely even noticed that you stopped. It felt so good to stop. The pain of your unfilled lungs wasn’t nearly as horrible as the pain of breathing.
The relief was so great that you barely even felt when the blackness finally took over, and you slumped in Dean’s arms.
“No no no no…” Dean was shaking you over and over, but you were out cold. “Come on, breathe!”
“Six minutes,” Castiel said.
“She won’t last that long,” Sam breathed.
“It-it’s not an exact science,” Rowena cut in. “It might…maybe it will work a little faster.”
With nothing else to do, the four watched, barely breathing, as your body lay unnaturally still on your bed. Cas was watching his watch like a guard dog, counting the seconds until you would have brain damage…until you could die…
The great, gasping breath that escaped your lips as you sat up had all four onlookers nearly crying in relief. Sam and Dean had already been crying, but even the witch and the angel couldn’t hold in their emotions anymore as you began to breathe deeply again, tears of relief streaming down your own face.
Dean held you in his arms without fear, and you clung to him without pain. Sam’s arm was still around your shoulders—he hadn’t moved an inch.
“You’re ok,” Dean breathed as you cried on his shirt, and no one was sure if he was reassuring you or himself. “You’re ok sweetheart, I’ve got you.”
You refused to let go of your brothers, having spent two days unable to take comfort in them when you needed them most. The three of you stayed like that for so long that eventually Rowena left, but Cas stayed to watch over the Winchesters he had sworn to protect—to watch over the one he’d almost lost.
He watched silently as the three siblings fell asleep—you first, then Sam, then—once he was sure that his little brother and sister were ok—finally Dean.
He watched, knowing that they had almost lost everything today.
He watched, knowing that they would only be closer because of it.
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl
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wraithlafitte · 8 months
Text
you're no femme fatale
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pairing: dean winchester x f!reader
CONTENT: use of y/n, dubcon (mission sequence), soft dom!reader, guided masturbation, light degradation (m!receiving), stripping, begging, scratching, hair pulling, handjob, exhibitionism if you squint
word count: 3.3k
a/n: anon request here! enjoy 🖤 honestly felt like i was scraping the bottom of the barrel to keep this interesting LOL hope it's what you wanted
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"No. No way in hell I'm doing that," you said, throwing up your hands and backing away from the table, littered with piles of Sam's research.
"Aw, come on, Y/N," Sam protested. "You're the only one of us that could do it."
"I am not entertaining some dirty old man for this," you snapped, snatching up a museum scan of the artifact you were supposed to steal. "We'll find another way."
"If there was another way, I'd be asking you to do that," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "This is the path of least resistance. You get in his office, slip it into your dress while he's not looking, and we'll come get you after ten minutes. That's it."
You huffed a sigh and crossed your arms.
Just then, Dean returned from his fast food run, greasy paper bags in hand. "Hey, nerds," he greeted impishly. "Grub's on."
You rolled your eyes as he plopped the bags right in the middle of Sam's papers.
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Dean asked, settling himself into a chair and unwrapping a double cheeseburger.
"You would know if you had stayed to help make it," you replied annoyedly.
Dean flicked his eyebrows. "No need to get testy."
Sam sighed, deciding to intervene before things got ugly. You and Dean weren't exactly known for getting along, tolerating each other just enough to get jobs done when you had to. This was mostly due to the fact that you thought Dean was a douchebag, and he just dished back whatever you threw at him.
"The best plan we've got so far is that Y/N seduces the guy," Sam explained.
Dean snorted, almost spitting out his too-large bite of burger. "I'm sorry what?"
"I figure we'll never be able to get in there during the event, since it'll be so locked down," Sam continued. "Our best bet is getting him to let one of us in."
"Have you seen her?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a once-over. "Not exactly the seducing type."
You looked down at your current outfit. Cargo pants and a mens t-shirt topped with a utility vest and a leather bomber jacket. He had a point, although not for the reasons he thought. You could dress up, you just chose to dress practically. More pockets for knives. No, you just weren't sure you'd be able to convince the man you wanted him. Seventy-something sleazebags weren't exactly high on your to-fuck list.
"For once, I agree with Dean." You tossed the photo back onto the table. "Can we think of something else, please?"
"Yeah, as much as I'd like to see her try and pretty up to get in some old dude's pants, there's gotta be a more surefire way," Dean said with his mouth full. "Cuz you're no femme fatale," he added pointedly.
You were getting a little annoyed at his jabs. "You don't think I can do it?" you asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
"Sister, I don't think you could seduce a virgin," Dean scoffed.
You turned to Sam, bristling. "That's it then. I'll do it."
"What?" Dean said loudly through his half-chewed bite.
Sam looked at you with concern. "Are you sure? Just because Dean-"
"I'm sure." You set your jaw confidently. "Let's go to the charity event."
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"We're heading out to the car," Sam called through the bathroom door, where you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup.
"Be right there," you called back, surveying yourself in the mirror. Not bad, you thought, considering the last time you put on this much makeup was prom night. You had tried to go for something an old man would like: a classic red lip and smoky eye that paired pretty well with the vintage-looking slinky black satin dress you'd found at the thrift store around the corner. It went down to your ankles, showing off your heels, and had a long slit that made its way up your leg to your hip.
You threw your coat on and hurried out the door, hopping into the backseat of the Impala. Sam glanced at you in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows appreciatively, but Dean didn't spare you a second glance. You were annoyed, since half the reason you were doing this was to prove him wrong, but there would be plenty of time to show off later.
As the Impala peeled out of the hotel parking lot, you took a deep swig from the flask you kept in your coat pocket. This better work.
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Neither of the boys helped you out of the car when you arrived.
"Chivalry is dead," you announced after almost stumbling onto your face getting out. You tossed your coat back into the backseat, revealing your outfit to the two hunters.
Suddenly Sam was all-too-eager to offer you his arm, and the two of you headed inside, Dean close behind. You hadn't missed the way his eyes widened when you dropped your coat, so you swung your hips a little as you walked. That'll show him.
The plan worked better than you could have hoped. The sleazy old something-inaire led you to his office, hand wrapped around your waist as you clung to his arm, pretending to laugh at his stupid sexist old man jokes.
As he clicked the heavy oak door shut, you quickly scanned the room, trying to find the artifact you came for. There. On his desk. All you had to do was grab it, and-
The old man grabbed you by the hips, pulling you flush against his body. "Where were we, sweetheart?"
Insides roiling with disgust, you turned around and placed your hands on his chest, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. "Right here," you said cattily, batting your eyelashes as you grabbed him by the lapels and led him backwards to the desk.
Here goes nothing, you thought, and pulled the old guy in for a kiss. Trying to ignore the way his tongue dug into your mouth, you felt around behind you for the artifact.
Got it. You quickly palmed the object and broke the kiss, looking up at the old man through your lashes. Now Sam or Dean was gonna bust down the door, claiming you as his missing drunk sister.
Aaaaany minute now.
The old man smiled wolfishly and you felt his hands creeping lower, lower, until he grabbed your ass firmly, jerking you closer to him and capturing your lips again.
Your heart hammered in your chest. This was not going how it was supposed to. You tried to wiggle away, but the guy was surprisingly strong for his age.
"Where you going, baby?" he asked, eyes glinting.
"I think I- I have to go," you said, aware that you were sounding a little panicked.
"You wanted this," he reminded you, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He swung you around and pushed you into the leather couch across from the desk. You tried to scramble up, but it was hard with your tight dress and the artifact still clutched in your hand, desperately being concealed, so the old man grabbed you easily by the hair, forcing you to stay down.
"Now why don't we put those pretty lips to use?"
The door swung open with a bang. The old man looked up, startled, releasing his death grip on your hair.
"There you are," came the fake-laughing voice of Dean.
"Who are you?" demanded the old man. "Get out of here!"
"Sorry man, this is my sister," Dean said, raising his hands apologetically. "She gets really hammered, acts like a slut. Gotta get her home." He helped you up, and you smiled and giggled, putting on the drunk-girl act.
Dean helped you hurry out of the room, the old man looking disappointed and angry at being cockblocked.
"Thanks," you whispered once you were down the hall and out of earshot. "What a creep."
"Please tell me you got it," Dean said darkly, weaving you through the crowd. You slipped the artifact into his suit pocket, giving it a pat for good measure.
"Didn't do that for nothing." You winked at him and pushed him away to walk the rest of the way to the car on your own two feet.
Dean stared after you, dumbfounded. He tried not to fixate on the way your hips swayed in that dress as you walked away proudly. God, that dress! It hugged your body perfectly, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been eyeing you all night. His cock was semi-hard in his dress pants, an annoying reminder of just how much you'd proved him wrong.
"Come on, dickhead," you yelled out the back window of the Impala. Dean realized starkly that he had stopped in place thinking about your tits.
"Dammit," he muttered, hurrying around to the driver's seat.
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The three of you piled into your hotel room to debrief from the mission. You assured the boys that you were alright from your creepy encounter with the old guy, and that stealing the artifact was worth it. The way Dean watched you raptly as you began to disrobe was not lost on you.
"I've dealt with worse in my time," you reminded them, shaking out your hair. "I'm a solo female hunter. Sleazy men hit on me literally wherever I go." You plopped down on the bed and pulled your stockings off one by one.
"As long as you're sure," Sam said, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna head back over to our room to get some sleep. You coming, Dean?"
Dean snapped out of his fantasy. "Uh, no. I'll be there in a little bit. Gotta talk to her about something."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Just don't bite each other's head off." And with that, he was gone.
You watched Dean from the shadows of the half-lit room. When he made no move to say anything, you did. "What do you need to talk about?" you asked, knowing full well. "Gonna say sorry cuz of how wrong you were?"
Dean flicked his eyes up to yours. Where had he been looking before?
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. You did good."
You stood and sauntered over to where he sat in a straight-backed chair by the dresser. "But that's not all, is it?" You smirked at him and looked him up and down, gaze lingering on his crotch, where a tent had begun to form.
Dean covered his bulge with his hand and pressed down, growling. "You were a little too good."
"So, what? You stayed because you want me to help with that?" you teased, coming closer.
"Yeah," Dean said roughly, standing quickly.
"No," you said bluntly, taking him by the shoulder and pushing him back into the chair.
Dean grimaced. "Why? Please," he begged, face twisted in arousal.
You giggled. "Wow."
"What?" Dean snapped, eyes cracking open.
"Nothing," you said, smirking. "You could beg a little more, might help." You felt your own arousal start to pool in your panties.
"Please, Y/N." Dean looked up at you with wild eyes, squeezing his cock through his pants.
"Please what?" You cocked your head.
"Please... make me cum," he said finally, eyes dropping to your midriff, unwilling to hold your gaze.
You tilted his chin up so he would look at you again, feeling a certain sense of satisfaction that you had somehow reduced him to this begging, horny mess in the chair before you.
"All you had to do was ask," you said softly. You backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Dean started to get up and follow you.
"No," you said, holding up a red-manicured finger. "Sit back down." You pointed.
Dean frowned but did as he was told. You smiled, delighted.
"You're having way too much fun with this," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry what was that?" you asked with a stern expression. "Do you want to cum or not?"
Dean's dick twitched in his pants. The way you bossed him around was really turning him on. "Nothing."
"That's what I thought." You twirled your hair thoughtfully. Dean whined impatiently.
"Tsk, tsk." You crossed your legs at an angle where he could almost see through the slit into your crotch. "Take your cock out."
Dean was all too happy to oblige, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants faster than you could say desperate, hiking up his dress shirt in the process.
"Wait," you interrupted before he could go any further. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt, too. Wouldn't want to make a mess." You smirked.
"Okay," Dean agreed breathily, practically tearing the two sides of the shirt from each other, exposing his muscular torso. You had seen him shirtless before, but there was something about the way he was breathing, stomach rising and falling quickly as he panted, that turned you on when it wouldn't normally.
"Now you can take your dick out," you said. You held your breath a little as his cock came into view. He was fully hard now, and dripping. He squeezed the base, moaning.
"Now what?" he asked, eyes shut as he lightly stroked his cock with his fingertips.
"You need me to tell you how to jack off?" you asked meanly. To your surprise, Dean moaned loudly at that.
He began stroking his cock, slowly at first, building up speed as he could no longer contain himself. A near-constant string of quiet whimpers and moans fell from his lips. You took note of the way he swiped his thumb over his leaking slit, spreading it around to aid his fingers.
"Look at me," you instructed. You wanted to see that wild look in his eyes again, and were instantly rewarded as his eyes flew open to meet yours. His mouth fell open as he gasped when he saw you.
"Forget I was here?" you teased. Dean gulped and shook his head vehemently. His hand slowed, and he started tugging himself less frantically, holding eye contact with you intensely.
"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "You're so hot, wanna see you."
You smirked. "Only because you admitted it." You hiked up your skirt, spreading the slit open so he could see your black lace panties.
Dean devoured your skin with his eyes, rubbing the head of his cock in circles with his thumb.
You dropped the straps of your dress so that they hung loosely around your shoulders and ran your long nails across your collarbones, petting your shoulders. Then you took hold of the neckline and pulled it down, freeing your tits from the dress.
"Better than I imagined, baby," Dean groaned at the sight, as his hips bucked into his hand.
You took one of your breasts in your hand, squeezing it towards your chest. "You imagined?" you lilted, smiling.
"Been thinkin' about you all night," he admitted shamelessly. "How good your tits looked in that dress. How good- ngh- you looked walkin' away from me."
Your other hand started creeping into your skirt. "Thought I couldn't even seduce a virgin. What does that make you?"
Dean growled, jerking his cock faster. "I don't- fuck-"
"Maybe you're just a manwhore," you purred, hopping off the bed to approach him.
"Please," Dean gasped, tossing his head back. "I need you."
You scoffed. "I'm not that lacking in self-respect." You lightly scratched your fingernails down the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, groaning, hand stilling.
You leaned in to murmur in his ear. "No, you're gonna take care of this all... by... yourself." You laced your fingers into his short hair, scratching his scalp, and pulled his head back. He relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling.
"So take care of it," you remind him harshly, giving his hair a hard tug before letting go. Dean raised his head hazily and began to stroke his dick again, gasping. It was angry red, practically begging for release, but Dean seemed determined to tease himself until he couldn't take it anymore, which you suspected would be soon.
You turned your back to him and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a silken puddle. You heard Dean moan softly, sound of skin rubbing skin growing faster. You smiled to yourself as an idea occurred to you.
Against a backdrop of street lamplight coming through the window and lewd noises coming from Dean, you padded barefoot wearing only your underwear to the other side of the bed, where your pajamas lay folded neatly on the nightstand. You unfolded them and spread them out on the bed.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked hoarsely. "Don't- please stay- I need to see you," he whimpered finally.
You ignored him, as you had been planning to do, and put your pajamas on dramatically slowly to the soundtrack of Dean begging you to stop, stay naked, help him.
You turned back to him when you were finished and a rush of arousal hit you at the sight: Dean, cock in hand, sitting exactly where you had left him, sweaty and gasping and looking at you with a wild, desperate expression. You moaned softly in spite of yourself.
"Poor baby," you pout, rounding the bed to sit next to him again. "Haven't you come yet?"
Dean's hand was working overtime, forearm muscles flexing and rippling beneath his skin where his sleeve was rolled up.
"Can't," he breathed.
"You can't come?" You feigned surprise, even though you had known for several minutes that he was probably going to wait for your permission.
"Need you," Dean panted. "Can't do it- mm- without you."
"Sure you can," you said, running your nails down his chest. He shivered intensely.
Dean whimpered, face contorting in frustration. "I can't."
"What, I got you so turned on you can't even jack off without me?" you tease, fingertips stopping right above his happy trail.
"Please touch me."
"I am touching you," you reply smoothly, digging your fingers into his stomach.
Dean rolled his eyes, although you weren't sure if it was sass or pleasure. "Please," he insisted, whining.
"Useless." You replaced his hand with yours, gripping his cock tightly as you stroked it for him. "Can't even make yourself come without my help."
Dean went slack-jawed, head falling back once more. "Uh-huh," he moaned breathily. He ground his hips upwards, trying to find more pressure or friction or something but getting nothing but what you gave him.
"You're a useless whore, right?" you taunted. He would tell you if you went too far, right?
"Yes," Dean groaned loudly. You almost clapped your hand over his mouth, certain that Sam could hear through the walls.
"Shhh, be quiet baby," you said instead. You swiped your thumb over the head of his dick and he hissed, biting his lip. Your other hand went down to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze.
Suddenly Dean's whole body tensed and his eyes flew open. "Shit- I'm so close, please," he panted. His abs flexed, indicating that he was telling the truth.
You increased the pressure on both hands slightly. "Go on then."
Dean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled gasp and a groan as he came, spurting over his stomach and your hands. You kept pumping, using his cum to aid your efforts, until he was begging you to stop between gasping breaths. Only then did you let go of him, admiring your handiwork.
One Dean Winchester (formerly unbelieving of your sexual prowess), spread over a chair, covered in cum, sweaty and panting and utterly fucked out.
"Thank you," he whispered weakly after a moment.
"Will you ever doubt me again?" you asked, smirking.
He rolled his head to the side to look at you. "No. Fuck, that was hot." Dean grinned. "Actually, I changed my mind. Maybe I should doubt you more often."
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, Winchester. Clean up and go to bed."
Dean got out of the chair stiffly, winked at you, and went to do as he was told.
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dividers by @cafekitsune and @saradika
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jasmines-library · 7 days
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Could u pls do a Winchester sister fic like (season 10 ep. 15) but instead of the parasite going into cole it goes into the sister and Dean tries to shock it out like in the episode but then she almost dies and they have to try and find another way
The Things They Carried
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Word Count: 2284 (wow look at me go)
Warnings: Uhhh not sure how to phrase it. Overall gore, kinda throwing up?
⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧
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The woman had vanished without a trace. Well, at least at first. Her body was found strung upside down in the storage room of a remote part of the city Feyetteville, North Carolina. Perhaps one of the most perplexing parts of the victims disappearance, was that not only was she an Army Private, trained in Krav Maga and Jiu-Jitsu, but her organs had been drained, along with the bone marrow sucked out of her body. This is what had caught Dean’s attention. He now sat in front of you and Sam, the article pulled up on his ipad.
Sam raised his eyebrows, his forehead wrinkling as he studied the article once more before handing it off to you. “So…cannibalism. You thinking a Rugaru?”
“Or a God. Maybe.” Dean agreed. A second later he was up on his feet, ready to go. Sam tried to protest. Ever since Dean got the mark of Cain Sam has been solely focused on trying to find a way to remove it. He was constantly on edge and you had to admit you were too. It seemed that no amount of research seemed to give enough answers on the mark. Eventually, with a look from his older brother and a defeated sigh, Sam let up and not even 10 minutes later, the three of you were speeding down the road.
Much to your disappointment, when you arrived in the city the first thing the three of you were told was that the local police had closed the case. However, they had given you a name, and the incriminating evidence. The sheriff; an elderly man, perhaps late 60s with white, thinning hair, had also told you that the offender had also committed suicide before the feds could lock him up. He also told you that this was the third suicide the city had seen in the last 6 months. A pattern. This was definitely something supernatural, if that wasn’t already clear. However, when Sam asked about the body, the sheriff informed the three of you that there were no bite marks, and that the victim had been killed with a bowie knife. That ruled out a Rugaru, leaving your trail dry.
The next step of the hunt was to speak to Beth, the offender's widow. She was rather distraught as she bounced her baby softly in her arms. When she glanced away from it, you could see the pain in her eyes; the dark circles that rim them. 
“Rick was a kind soul.” She insisted sadly, glancing down at the floor. The way she spoke of her late husband was filled with awe, but woven thick was pain that choked up her voice. You could tell that she still hadn’t processed her husband’s recent change in personality. 
“Did you ever notice anything strange?” Sam asked gently, his fingers clasped together as he leaned against the countertop. “Violent mood swings?”
“Weird smells?” You added.
“No….” The woman frowned. “But Rick was- he was-” she stuttered, unable to word what she wanted to say correctly, almost as if she didn’t really believe it or understand it herself. “He was thirsty.”
You tilted your head at her, her words catching your interest. “Thirsty for what?”
Her answer surprised you. “Water. He’d spend half the day drinking from the garden hose. And then, when I told him to stop it was like he couldn’t even hear me. And his skin; it got so dry it bled.”
Your older brothers watched intently. “Did he see a doctor?” Dean questioned gruffly.
The poor woman shook her head. There were now soft tears rolling down her face, mingling with the ghosts of the ones there before. “He just got put on a list to be put on a list. And then he stopped talking. He just wasn't himself–” she sniffled, shifting her baby in her arms. “I thought….maybe it was just PTSD.”
No one said anything for a moment before you broke the silence tenderly. “We’re very sorry.”
“You said that Rick had been recently deployed.” Dean said. “Do you have any idea where?”
“No.” She answered rather bluntly. “That stuff’s classified. They don’t even let the wives in on it.”
And the trail runs cold again. 
But then, just as you were about to leave and Sam left your number, Beth stopped you again. 
“There’s one other thing.” she added. “I ran into my friend Jemma at the supermarket. She’s married to Kit Verson. A guy from Rick’s team. She thinks Kit came back different this time. Kind of felt like we were dealing with the same thing.”
The trail picks up again.
After a little while running around after Kit Verson, discovering that he murdered someone else the same way that his friend did, the three of you ended up in an old shack that his wife believed he might have fled to. It was dark. Eerily so. However not as eerie as the trail of dead mice on the floor. Machetties in hand and guns in holsters, the three of your crept through the darkness of the hut. You found him hunched over in the back room of the house. His breathing was rough and ragged as though he might have run a mile at top speed. When you reached out to touch his shoulder, his head whipped around, bloodshot eyes boring into you. His mouth and face was splattered with blood and dirt, and his movements were erratic as he stood up to face you. He gripped you tight, cold fingers like icicles against your skin as he pushed you back against the wall. And then his eyes were pleading with you. The harsh crease between his eyebrows softened for just a moment as he used his body weight to keep you pinned up against the wood panelling. 
“I’m sorry,” he grunted out, wrestling with you to keep you in his grasp. “I can’t stop.”
And then, you were on the floor, dirty ground rising to meet you fast as he made you lose your footing. And then, as you struggled beneath him he made this awful gagging noise as the creature slithered out of his throat and forced its way into you. You coughed, gagging yourself as your brothers rushed into the room. They were on Kit in seconds, but he was strong, throwing your brothers around before dashing out of the door. Quick on his feet, Dean followed, leaving you staggering for breath on the floor with Sam.
“Are you alright?!” Sam asked, alarmed as he rushed to your side, helping you up off the floor.
You coughed. “Some-something’s inside of me–” a grimace spread across your face as you felt it move. “It’s alive–”
“It what?” Sam blinked. “What did it look like? Do you know what it was?”
“Khan worm.” Dean answered, catching on to the end of the conversation. “At Least i think it is. Why? Did you see it?”
You groaned in pain, so Sam answered for you. “It crawled inside her.”
Dean froze, his eyes going wide. “What?”
Sam nodded grimly. 
“Did you see what it was? Dean asked worriedly. 
You coughed, hands flying to your mouth. “Khan worm.”
“Shit.” Dean cursed aloud, running his hands through his hair. 
“We have two options.” You said, trying to hide the grimace on your face as you felt the worm moving, ,crawling under your skin. Neither of the two options were very pleasant at all. You and your brothers had worked a case with Khan worms a few years ago and there were two ways that you discovered the worms could be killed. And while these worms seemed slightly different to the first ones you discovered, you figured that they were similar enough that the same rules would apply. The first option was probably the most forward one, but it also involved certain death; a headshot to the infected person that would cause the worm to flee the body where it would then be crushed by Sam or Dean. Option one was very clearly off the table. The second was far more painful, but it also harboured greater chances of survival. 
Dean began to protest immediately. “No. No no. there’s got to be another way.” 
“You know we dont-”
“Kid….” Sam started. 
“Just do it. We have no other choice.”
Dean sighed, turning away and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright.”
~
Dean had managed to find two batteries hidden in the small cabin. He placed them grimly on the table with a thud before connecting two of the jump wires that Sam had gone and collected from Baby’s trunk. You were sitting in the armchair, fingers gripping the leather as you waited anxiously. Sam tried to give you some comforting words, but you weren’t sure who he was trying to comfort more; you or himself. 
“Alright.” Dean said, his voice laced thick with an anxiousness and guilt he was yet to shake. He brought the cables over to you as you took a deep breath, placing a wooden spoon between your mouth to keep you from biting through your tongue. 
Settling back in the chair, you took a moment to collect yourself. To prepare for the agony you were about to put yourself through. And then, you gave him a brief nod 
The sudden pain when Dean pressed the jump cables to your skin was overwhelming. Unbearable. A million agonies all combined to one as the electricity raced through your veins. You screamed, crying out as your teeth bit down on the wood of the spoon, which helped to muffle the sound. Both of your brothers winced at the sound of your agony as you twisted and writhed. Sam had to look away and Dean had to force himself to keep the cables against your skin though he yearned to take away your pain. But nothing happened. As soon as your brother removed the cables, you were panting for breath, trying to recover quickly from the pain. You couldn’t help but notice the looks on your brother’s faces.
“Anything?”
Sam shook his head dismally. The parasite was still in you. 
“Go again.”
Dean startled. “What? Are you crazy?”
“Go again.” You strained. 
Dean collected himself, and then; the same pain. But still as you writhed. Fists clenching and nails digging into your palms the worm remained inside you. And your brothers were growing increasingly concerned. Your movements began to slow as you grew quieter and your eyes fluttered, drooping with a sudden heaviness. Dean pulled the cables away immediately and you slumped back against the chair. Your head lolled forwards against your chest and your breathing was concerningly slow and laboured. 
“Okay….okay…” Sam said gently, slipping an arm behind your back to help support you.You whimpered slightly at the movement. “ Shh. You’re alright sweetheart.” he glanced up at Dean, fear and worry evident in the creases on his forehead. They would have to find a different way to get the worm out.
~
You were sweating. Gods….you’d never been hotter. Your body still ached as you sat in the armchair of the cabin. The old leather was flaking off and was practically covered in a sheen of your own sweat. Sam and Dean had pushed it towards the fire, leaving you to sweat against the heat. They had figured that as the parasite needed water, if they could make you sweat it all out…then the creature would leave. But now you were practically slumped in a chair, dark veins crawling up your neck as you tried to rid the worm from your body. You coughed a little, your throat dry, with no way to soothe it. Thirst…..that was the only thing that consumed your mind…you were so. damn. thirsty. Your body craved it. Anything you could get you would take….even your own brothers’ blood. The parasite yearned for something. You could feel it, squirming around inside you. Uncomfortable, you whined before coughing a little, doubling over on yourself. 
Sam placed a hand on your shoulder. “Hang in there, Sweetheart. You have to sweat it out.”
“Can’t–” You coughed. 
“Yes you can.” Dean shut you down quickly. “You can’t give up. Winchesters don’t quit.”
Reluctantly, you nodded. Your head spun. You felt sick. But you knew you couldn’t give up. You were in for a long waiting game. 
It wasn’t until a few hours later, when you were on the verge of breaking down that you began to feel it slithering up your throat. You gagged, coughing as you tried to expel the creature from your body. 
Sam and Dean were by your side in seconds, both trying to coax you through it, ready to stomp on the worm as soon as it made an appearance. Sure enough you managed to cough it up uncomfortably. It splattered on the floor, squealing as it writhed and trying to slither off to infect someone else. It didn’t make it far before Dean slammed a heavy boot over it. And once more for good measure. It squelched under his shoe, peeling off from it as it stuck to the floor. He grimaced at the sight before moving to crouch beside you, checking on you.
You wiped the string of saliva from your mouth with a grimace before gratefully taking the water bottle Sam offered you and wasting no time before drinking it to quench your impossible thirst.
“That's it. Easy, Sweetheart.” Dean cooed. “It’s over now.”
“You did it, kiddo.” Sam said, guiding you to lean back in the chair more. “We knew you could do it. We’re proud of you.”
(A bit of a rubbish ending! I'm sorry i wasn't sure what to do)
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SPN TAGS:
@xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale @harleycao @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @rosecentury
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morganwrites12672 · 1 month
Text
Crush
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Sam Winchester x Reader
Summary: The sorority girl that Sam has had a crush on for ages approaches him at a party one night.
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: 18+ Sorority Girl!Reader. Drinking. Smoking. It's a party. Smut. Fingering (f!receiving). Unprotected sex (bad idea, don't try this at home).
A/N: MINORS DNI also, thank you to @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles for beta reading and helping with some of this for me!
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The music was blasting throughout the house. Everyone had already drank too much. Well, almost everyone. She had been drinking soda all night. Being the designated driver was something she didn't mind doing. It was difficult though. Sorority girls were a fucking nightmare after a couple of shots.
Most of her Saturday nights were spent like this. The only difference was that by now she had usually gone upstairs with a guy. She leaned against the doorframe in the kitchen, watching the party. She took a sip of her soda. It was late, she was starting to get bored.
Parties weren't near as much fun sober. Probably because they had no real appeal. Without the liquor coursing through her veins all she saw was a bunch of idiots getting shit faced. She didn't think much of it. Next week, whenever one of her sorority sisters would be on designated driver duty, she would have a blast. Get shit faced, hookup. Anything she wanted. Anyone she wanted.
Being a sorority girl had benefits.
She threw her empty solo cup into the kitchen trash can before venturing back out to the party. She weaved her way through all of the drunk college kids. Knowing that she looked just like them on any other weekend made her feel a bit stupid. She ignored those thoughts. They wouldn't prevent her from partying next weekend. She needed to have something to look forward to after a week of hell.
She made her way to an area with less people; right beside the staircase. She noticed a man with shaggy brown hair and smiled. She could tell that he wasn't from one of fraternity's around here, or on the football team. That didn't seem to bother her for some reason.
She gave him a smile, her glossed lips shimmering in the lights of the party. "What's your name?" She asked him, eyes taking him in. He made her stomach do a back flip. The feeling was. . . oddly unusual. It almost made her do a double take.
The mans cheeks turned a soft shade of pink before he replied. It wasn't that hard for her to notice how flustered he was. She found it adorable. Again, something oddly unusual. She usually chose guys with a lot more confidence.
"Uh, Sam." His words were nearly drowned out by the music of the party. He realized how quiet his words had came out and repeated them a bit louder. His eyes drank her in. He couldn't believe that she was talking to him. The girl he'd had a crush on for most of his time at Stanford.
"It's nice to meet you, Sam." She replied before giving him her name. She fixed a piece of hair that had fallen into her face, pushing it behind her ear so that it wouldn't bother her any longer. "Did you come here alone?" She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
"N-no. My friend made me come," He replied. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair to fix his messy bangs. Her eyes lingered as she watched him. He noticed her gaze and his blush deepened.
His words made her smile brighten, "I take it that means you're available?" She asked. She wanted to confirm that he was single. She might get called a slut but that doesn't mean that she goes after guys in a relationship. It's not her fault that most lie.
Sam's eyes went wide. His heart hammered in his chest. He stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Was she seriously asking him that question? He had known who she was before she'd introduced herself. Who didn't? She was pretty and popular. Sam had always hidden a tiny crush on her. Well, him and half of the other guys at this school.
"I-I am."
"Good," she said with a smile. She fixed her dress, pulling the hem down from where it had ridden up on her thighs. She loved the dress she was wearing. It was gorgeous and fit her body like a glove. The only issue was how much of a pain it was to keep pulling it down all night. It was worth it though.
"You look nice," Sam said, having built up an ounce of courage (which has already vanished). He was nervous as hell. Confidence wasn't his strong suit.
She leaned in a bit closer. "Thanks. You look great yourself," She replied. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. He looked like a god damn dream. She wondered how she hadn't noticed him before tonight.
Sam's eyes lingered on the way her sparkly eyeshadow gleamed in the light. He couldn't help but admire her. She was fucking gorgeous tonight, and any other night. He thought she looked incredible no matter where he saw her, or what she wore. She was perfect in his eyes.
"I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?" She said, making sure that he was okay with it. It wasn't often that she was the one to make the first move. She enjoyed it. Usually guys were pawing at her body with their tongues down her throat before even asking her name. Sam was different.
When Sam stayed silent she pressed her lips against his. She guided one of his hands to rest on her hip. She deepened the kiss, her tongue slowly sliding into his mouth. His lips tasted like cheap beer and Carmex.
He let out a soft groan as she kissed him harder. He let her have most of the control, going along with her movements. He let his hand gently squeeze her hip. She didn't seem to mind.
She pulled away after a minute, wanting to see the look on his face. The look on his face made her want to drag him upstairs that very second. His cheeks were a perfect shade of pink, his mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes were wide. She noticed the way his hazel eyes stared at her lips.
She noticed a smudge of pink gloss on his upper lip and wiped it away with her thumb. It made his blush deepen even more. Every touch from her had his body on fire. He has a chance with a girl he'd had a crush on for a while, he couldn't screw this up.
"That was-" she began to say but was cut off whenever Sam kissed her. She let out a small gasp against his lips. She hadn't expected him to do something like that. Not that she minded, not one bit.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He moaned into the kiss as she gently tugged on the hair she had been playing with. She walked a few steps backwards, all while still kissing Sam.
Whenever her back hit the wall, she leaned her head back to catch her breath. Sam pressed a cautious kiss to her collarbone. Her body arches into his touch and a smile spread over his lips. He kissed his way up to her jaw line, not yet brave enough to leave an actual hickey. Soft kisses would have to do for now.
"Let's take this upstairs," She said with a smile. Her lip gloss was smudged. She knew it, and didn't give a fuck. She would fix it later. Sam took a step back from her so that she could lead the way. He wasn't sure if she had a specific room in mind.
She walked past him, grabbing his hand as she walked. They walked last a couple drunkenly making out on the stair case, she rolled her eyes. At least she had the decency to get a room. Well, whenever she was sober. Tonight was making her rethink how often she drank. And how wasted she got. Maybe Sam would be a better influence on her.
She walked to the end of the hallway, finding a door that didn't have any noises coming from behind it. She gave sams hand a soft squeeze before opening the door and walking inside. She wasn't used to guys treating her this way. Sam made her feel special, even if she's barely even met him.
The door was shut and locked as soon as they had both stepped inside. She looked up at Sam, admiring every feature of his face. She couldn't help herself. He looked at her in a way that made her feel special. She didn't feel like some cheap hookup. She felt like he wouldn't leave her the second he got his fill.
Her hands went to the top button off his shirt. She paused though. Her eyes met his. "I'm going to take this off now, okay?" She said to him.
"Y-yeah. Okay" Sam's breath caught in his throat as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. She wasn't ripping his clothes off. No, she was taking her sweet time. She wanted to enjoy every second of this. And she would.
As she was unbuttoning his shirt, she leaned up to kiss him again. His hand rested on her hip for a moment before resting on her ass. The two made their way to the bed, their lips never separating. It seemed as though breaking the kiss for even a second would be the end of the world right now.
She laid back on the bed. Sam's shirt had fallen to the floor sometime during the short walk over to the bed. He looked down at her with a smile. She was beautiful. He would never get tired of this view. He could only hope that he'd get the chance to see her again.
She sat up before adjusting the pillows behind her. She leaned back, half sitting up. Sam moved towards her and his hand gently cupped her jaw before kissing her again. She grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to her thigh.
She let her hands drift to the waistband of his jeans. She palmed his growing erection through the thick material. He broke the kiss, whimpering against her lips. The beautiful sound made her chuckle softly.
"You like that, huh?" She asked with lustful eyes. Every sound that Sam made had her going crazy.
Sam's cheeks turned red and he didn't reply, his gaze drifting down to the cleavage visible with how low cut her dress was. His eyes widened slightly. He didn't like how easily she was able to fluster him.
"Have you done this before?" She asked. She wanted to make sure that he wasn't about to lose his virginity at a shitty party.
"I-I have," Sam replied a bit quieter. It has been his first year at Stanford with some girl in his old English class. It hadn't been at a party like this though. No, the girl had been over at his apartment to study.
"Can I touch you?" Sam asked as his gaze went even lower. "Please?" He added. His eyes couldn't budge from her thighs. Her dress had ridden up whenever she had sat up against the pillows.
She smiled and pushed her dress up over her hips before spreading her legs for him. Sam grazed his fingers over her black underwear. He looked up at her to see her reaction.
Her breathe caught in her throat. Her core was throbbing. She was desperate for his touch. She noticed his hesitancy. She lifted her hips up a bit and he retracted his hand. She slid her underwear off.
"It's okay, you can touch me." Her words were gentle as she guided his hand to in between her thighs.
Sam slid a finger through her wetness and she gasped. She let her head fall back on the pillows, her hair sprawling out around her. Sam's touch was cautious. She grabbed his wrist and made his fingers prod at her entrance.
"U-use your ring finger first."
Sam followed her instructions, gently pushing his ring finger inside of her. He heard her gasp and looked up. He pushed his finger in all of the way and she groaned.
"Now c-curl it."
She moaned as he followed her instructions. The noise made Sam freeze for a moment. The second she bucked her hips against his hand he went back to curling his finger inside of her tight cunt. The noises coming out of her had his cock straining against his jeans. He attempted to ignore it as he curled his finger a little faster.
She gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist and he froze. She guided his hand so that his ring finger was now curling while thrusting in and out of her wet cunt. She moaned again, he was a fast learner even if his previous experience was more limited than hers.
"Ah-Add another," She gasped as she felt heat build up in her core. She felt Sam slip his middle finger inside of her. She rocked her hips in time with the thrusting of his fingers. Moans escaped her throat as he worked her open. "Fuck! Just like that."
"D-do you like this?" Sam asked. "I-i mean it sounds like you do but. . . I want to make sure I'm doing. . . this. . .right," He stuttered, not stopping his movements. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers.
"Y-yes!" She moaned. "J-just like that. You're doing such a good job for me," She gasped. She grabbed his other hand and moved it to her clit. He seemed to understand what she wanted and began rubbing sloppy circles on her puffy clit.
Her thighs had a slight tremble as her cunt squeezed his fingers even more. His fingers rubbing her clit sent jolts of pleasure throughout her body. She could feel her orgasm creeping up on her.
"I'm close!" She moaned as she clamped down around his fingers. Her head fell back as her orgasm washed over her. Sam felt her walls tighten around his fingers as her moans increased in volume. He kept thrusting his fingers, riding her through her orgasm as her moans grew more strained. She grabbed his wrist as a signal for him to stop. The overstimulation left her cheeks flushed.
His fingers slipped from her sopping hole, and his eyes flicked to her face, wide with awe. She took his wrist in her hand, guiding it to her mouth, and sucked on his fingers, letting her eyes flutter closed, she swirled her tongue around his fingers. A low moan escaped her throat at the taste of herself. Her eyes fluttered open and she giggled at the sight of Sam. She couldn't help herself. His mouth was hanging down for God's sake.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, as she pulled him down to her level. Her lips pressed against his. Sam was still frozen in a combination of shock and awe. He thought all of the noises that he had pulled out of her. As they kissed, her tongue invaded his mouth. Sam let out a small, needy whimper as she kissed him.
She sat up, pushing him down onto the bed before straddling his waist. Her hands went to the zipper of his jeans. She looked up at him. Sam's face and chest were flushed, his lips were red and slightly puffy, he already looked so fucked out and she had barely even touched him. She didn't waste any time in unzipping his pants. Sam lifted his hips and helped her get rid of the constricting material.
She teased him over his boxers. A strangled moan escapes Sam's throat as she ran her fingers over his clothed erection. His head dropped down onto the pillows, she gazed at his exposed throat. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the smooth expanse of delicate skin. Sam's breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of her lips.
"P-please. . . Please," Sam practically whimpered.
She let out a soft chuckle. "Please. . . what?" She continued her movements, gently running her fingers over his clothes erection. "I need you to use your words for me, sweetheart."
Sam's hips buck up, desperate for more. "P-please," He moans out. His chest heaves as he fights to keep his breathing even. "I need you to f-fuck me."
She tugged on the waistband of his boxers. Sam quickly lifted his hips so that she could rid him of the pesky material. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and gave it a light squeeze. She admired the pretty pink tip, leaking precum.
She lifted her hips before lining up her entrance with the tip of his cock. She had to admit, he was definitely larger than most guys she'd slept with. She wasn't going to tell Sam that though. She studied his expression with a small smile on her face. Sam watched her every move with his jaw slack, quiet moans leaving his throat.
She sinks down on him and his hands fly to her hips. She places one of her hands on his chest for support. She moans as she slowly sinks down. The stretch is a burn that quickly fades into an ache for more.
"F-fuck," She moaned out, adjusting to his size.
Sam was a beautiful mess beneath her. His hands squeezed her hips, just for something to hold onto. His body quivered ever so slightly. She felt so fucking tight around his cock. She'd barely even started and he could already feel heat forming in his stomach.
He moaned out her name as she rocked her hips. "P-please," He gasped as she lifted her hips up before dropping back down. Every thrust of her hips had him begging for more. The feeling of her tight cunt wrapped around him was almost too much.
He let one hand fall from her hip and slide in-between her legs. As his fumbling fingers found her clit, she let out a small gasp. Her eyes met his. It was the most gorgeous sight Sam had ever seen. Her tits bounced with every thrust of her hips, her lips were parted as she let out another moan, every piece and part of her was perfect.
How had he gotten this lucky? He never would have thought that she ever find out he even existed. Let alone wind up in bed with him. The view in front of him was like something from one of his wildest fantasies.
"Y-you look. . . s-so perfect," Sam half moaned, half whimpered as his fingers rubbed tight circles on her clit. He experimented with the speed. Whenever he hears her breath hitch in her throat he knew that he was doing it right.
She struggled to keep up her current pace with the way that Sam's cock hit that place inside of her cunt that practically made her see stars. Her lower abdomen was on fire. If Sam didn't slow down she might come quicker than she had been expecting.
"F-fuck! Just like that," She cried out.
Sam might not be the most experienced guy ever, but he was definitely a quick learner. The hand that wasn't on her clit went to her chest. He gently massaged one of her breasts. The soft skin felt like heaven beneath his hand. He squeezed her nipple and she moaned even louder. He was carefully watching every reaction she had, making sure that he was doing all of this right.
"Y-you feel so good," He whimpered.
His back arched up from the bed as he felt her walls tighten around him. He could feel his orgasm creeping up on him. His hips bucked up, meeting her thrusts. The action made her cry out.
"I-I'm. . . I'm about to come," Sam whimpered, his chest heaving.
His fingers had found a steady pace on her clit. Every circle of his fingers sent white hot pleasure coursing throughout her body. The way his hands carefully gripped at her chest. He soon moved the hand that had been on her chest, to her hips. He attempted to help guide her thrusts. She seemed to be tiring out.
"M-me too," She replied with a moan. She could feel his cock twitch inside of her. His eyes rolled back as his grip on her hips tightened. It only made her work harder. She was so fucking close. Sam wouldn't be able to last any longer.
He cried out from the overstimulation as her tight walls clenched around his cock, her own orgasm making her thrusts shaky. She felt pleasure overtake her body as Sam kept circling her clit with his no longer ungraceful fingers.
She guided his hand away as she slowly rocked her hips, basking in the subtle feeling of overstimulation. She slowly sat up before she stops. Her legs had a slight quiver as she walked into the bathroom. The loud music of the party was muted through the door. Though, it was obvious that the party was not even close to being finished for the night.
"Do you want to hop on the shower with me?" She asked with a smile. Sam's eyes went wide (for the hundredth time that night) before he climbed off the bed. He was standing at her side in seconds.
"T-that sounds nice."
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A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed it!
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alessandra-14 · 29 days
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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.
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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.
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Date Crashers
Hi, my name is Holly Plake, and I am thirty-three years old. I am the younger half-sister of Dean (44) and Sam Winchester (40); and the older half- sister of Adam Milligan (32 years old; six months younger).
I am on a date with my latest flame, Michael Jones. Michael and I are cuddling together on one side of this booth at this diner. I look up to see Sam, Dean, and Dean's boyfriend (Castiel) sitting across from us. Michael asks, "Who are they?" I roll my eyes, "That's Sam, he is forty. That's Dean, he is forty-four. They are my half-brothers. And, that's Dean's boyfriend, Cas." Michael nods and says, "Well, I am going to leave now." I nod. 
I ask, "Seriously you guys had to ruin another date?" Dean says, "We didn't like how close you were physically at a table." I say, "You are one to talk, D." Sam says, "We got bad vibes from Michael." I sigh and say, "Alright." Cas says, "He was bad news." I say, "I think it is just because his name is Michael." Dean smirks. I say, "Michael was the most popular name for boys the year I was born. In fact, I have dated like five or six Michaels now." Sam laughs. I roll my eyes and laugh. 
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marie-swriting · 1 year
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Partie De La Famille - Dean Winchester
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Masterlist
Résumé : Tu fais ta première chasse avec ton père John et ton demi-frère Dean en espérant que tu pourras prouver à ton père que tu es une vraie Winchester.
Warnings : half-sister!reader, Y/N a 15 ans, John est un père de merde, angst, sentiment de ne pas appartenir à la famille, tuer des vampires, dites-moi si j'en ai loupés d'autres.
Nombre de mots : 3.2k
Version anglaise
Prompt utilisé : PL n°1, n°10 "We could have prevented this" (On aurait pu éviter cette situation)
-Quelles sont les règles ? te demande John d’une voix dure. 
-Toujours être en alerte et prête à attaquer, tuer et poser les questions plus tard, réponds-tu, déterminée. 
-Très bien, n’oublie pas que tu dois leur couper la tête ou alors ils pourront toujours attaquer. Comme c’est ta première fois sur le terrain, tu restes auprès de moi ou Dean, d’accord ?
-Oui, monsieur.
John te tend la machette avant de fermer le coffre de l’Impala. Ton ventre se tord quand il réalise que tu n’es qu’à quelques secondes du moment le plus dangereux de ta vie. Tes mains commençant à trembler, tu ressers ta prise sur ton arme, espérant te donner un peu plus de courage. Rapidement, tu relèves les yeux et vois Dean te regarder. Il pose une main sur ton épaule pour te rassurer. Tu lui fais un rapide sourire, mais la peur est lisible sur ton visage. Quand vous êtes enfin prêts, vous commencez à vous diriger vers l’entrée du nid de vampires. 
Vous êtes sur leurs traces depuis quelques jours et grâce à tes recherches tu as réussi à les localiser. Tu espères maintenant pouvoir tuer les monstres sans commettre d’erreurs, tu veux prouver à John qu’il a bien fait de te sortir de ta famille d’accueil suite au départ de Sam à l’université. En effet, quand le jeune Winchester a décidé de quitter l’entreprise familiale, John n’a pas aimé se retrouver avec un chasseur en moins alors il est venu te récupérer, en sachant très bien qu’il pourrait récupérer ta garde en un instant, car ta mère est décédée à la naissance. Jusqu’à ce qu’il vienne dans ta famille d’accueil, tu ignorais l’identité de ton père, tu savais encore moins que tu avais deux grand frères. En les rencontrant, une joie immense t’avait envahie, tu pensais que tu allais enfin avoir une vraie famille à laquelle appartenir. John avait déclaré à tes parents d’accueil qu’il venait prendre ta garde, car il venait de découvrir ton existence. Il avait fait tout un beau discours sur l’importance d’avoir sa fille dans sa vie. Quand il avait prononcé ces mots, ton cœur avait explosé d’amour, mais la réalité t’a vite rattrapé quand il a tout de suite mis une distance émotionnelle avec toi avant de commencer ton entraînement de chasseuse. Tu savais que ça n’allait pas être simple, mais tu veux lui prouver qu’il peut compter sur toi pendant les chasses alors tu donnes ton maximum chaque jour. Cependant, John est très exigeant, tu as l’impression que tu ne seras jamais à la hauteur et il t’arrive de faire des erreurs à cause de la pression. Heureusement, Dean sait être patient avec toi, il te protège des réprimandes de John. 
Quand vous êtes dans le vieux bâtiment, vous faites face à un silence pesant. Il ne semble y avoir aucune menace à l’horizon pendant que vous vous enfoncez dans le nid. Vous continuez à marcher discrètement en regardant chaque recoin jusqu’à ce que vous trouviez une sorte de cage avec un prisonnier à l’intérieur. En un coup d'œil, tu reconnais Jake, l’adolescent de ton âge qui t’a aidé à trouver les vampires. Il s’était mis à leur recherche avant que vous arriviez car sa sœur était une de leurs victimes. Ensemble, vous avez mis à profit vos compétences ; pour toi, tes connaissances sur le surnaturel, pour lui, ses connaissances sur la ville et ses habitants. En le voyant, tu abaisses ta machette et cours vers la cage.
-Jake ! Mon Dieu, tout va bien ? Ils ne t’ont rien fait ? questionnes-tu en inspectant rapidement son corps du regard.
-Tu le connais, Y/N ? t’interroge John.
-Il m’a aidé à localiser le nid, informes-tu avant de te retourner vers ton ami. Ça va, Jake ?
-Je vais bien.
-On va te sortir de là, ne t’inquiète pas, déclare Dean en commençant à forcer la serrure.
-Gamin, tu sais où sont les vampires ? le questionne John d’un ton sec.
-Non, j’ai à peine repris conscience, en fait. Merci, dit Jake quand Dean le libère enfin.
Jake sort de sa petite prison en titubant. Tu le rattrapes alors qu’il perd l’équilibre. Tu t’apprêtes à lui demander s’il va bien quand tu vois des dents aiguisées sortir de ses gencives. Sous le choc, tu n’as pas le réflexe de relever ta machette. Dean et John s’apprêtent à réagir quand les autres vampires sortent de leur cachette. Tu repousses Jake, apeurée, mais il revient à la charge. Tu tentes de te débattre en utilisant ton arme, mais Jake te brise le bras, te forçant à la lâcher. En entendant ton cri de douleur, Dean tourne la tête vers toi. Il regarde Jake sur le point de planter ses crocs dans ton cou quand il court jusqu’à vous et coupe la tête de Jake sans réfléchir. Sous le choc de l’action, tu restes figée. 
-Tout va bien ? questionne Dean, préoccupé. 
-Oui, ne t’inquiète pas. 
John grogne de colère, faisant tourner vos têtes vers lui. Dean te laisse, allant aider John. Tu récupères ta machette à terre et tu tentes d’au moins blesser quelques vampires. Ne pouvant plus utiliser ta main dominante, tu as encore moins de force pour couper les têtes. Par miracle, sûrement due à l’adrénaline, tu arrives à tuer un buveur de sang. Malgré toi, tu regardes le corps de la personne et sa tête détachée, ne réalisant pas que tu en sois à l’origine. Reprenant tes esprits, tu relèves les yeux et vois qu’une bonne partie des vampires sont morts. John est en train de s’occuper de l’Alpha vampire alors que Dean semble perdre son combat contre un autre des monstres, ayant du mal à éloigner les dents aiguisées de sa nuque. Tu te précipites vers lui et tu coupes la tête du vampire avec toute la force que tu possèdes. Quand Dean comprend qu’il n’est plus en danger, il te regarde, fier de voir que tu as réussi à le sauver. Tu ne peux empêcher de sourire légèrement en réalisant que, pour une première chasse, tu t’en es plutôt bien sortie. De ta main valide, tu l’aides à se relever au moment où John tue enfin l’Alpha vampire. Tu regardes John, espérant le voir content ou au moins rassuré de vous savoir en vie et à peine blessés, malgré ton bras cassé, mais c’est un John en colère qui s’approche de toi.
-C’était quoi ce bordel ? On s’est retrouvés dans une embuscade à cause de tes conneries ! Comment t’a fait pour pas comprendre que Jake était un vampire alors qu’il t’aidait ? Ne me dis pas que tu n’as même pas pensé à vérifier qu’il n’en était pas un avant de tout lui dire !
-Il… Je…, bégayes-tu, agaçant John encore plus.
-Réponds !
-Il m’a dit qu’il était aussi à la recherche des vampires, mais qu’ils ne savaient pas comment les attaquer, expliques-tu, te sentant honteuse. 
-Et tu t’es pas dit que c’était bizarre qu’il en sache autant ?
-Il disait que ça faisait deux mois qu’il faisait des recherches, ça me semblait normal, te défends-tu et John soupire comme pour contenir sa colère.
-Putain, Y/N, c’est pas possible ! On aurait pu éviter cette situation, si tu avais réfléchi un peu !
-Papa, elle est encore en train d’apprendre. C’est pas si grave, intervient Dean d’une voix calme.
-Pas quand elle nous met en danger ! On aurait pu mourir et elle a le bras cassé. Elle aurait dû faire mieux !
En écoutant le nouveau reproche de John, tu baisses la tête. Finalement la chasse a été pire que ce que tu pensais. Tu as mis tes proches en danger et tu as déçu John. Tu vas encore avoir plus de mal à trouver ta place dans votre petite famille et tu te détestes pour ça. John a raison, tu aurais dû faire mieux.
-On est tous en vie et ils sont morts. C’est une victoire, insiste ton grand frère.
-Je m’en fiche qu’on s’en soit sortis ! Elle aurait dû réfléchir comme une chasseuse, rétorque John avant de te prendre l’épaule avec force, t’obligeant à relever la tête vers lui avec une grimace. T’as pas intérêt à refaire ça, la prochaine fois, utilise ta tête.
-Oui, monsieur.
John soupire avant de lâcher ton épaule. Dean te lance un regard pour s’assurer que tu vas bien, tu lui fais un rapide signe de la tête pour le rassurer, mais tes yeux brillants de larmes ne le convainc pas. 
-Allez, viens, commence John, on doit aller à l’hôpital pour ton bras, on peut pas le réparer nous-même. Une autre perte de temps avec tes conneries.
-Je suis désolée, souffles-tu, les larmes prêtes à couler d’une seconde à l’autre.
-“Désolée” ne change rien. Et enlève moi ces larmes de tes yeux, à moitié Winchester ou pas, les Winchester ne pleurent pas.
-Oui, monsieur.
Les épaules baissées, tu suis John alors que Dean te regarde avec compassion. Il sait ce que c’est de se battre pour avoir l’approbation de John, c’est très rare de l’avoir, même pour lui, c’est compliqué alors qu’il fait tout ce que John dit. 
Dans l’Impala, John n’a pas dit un autre mot, trop en colère il ne te regarde même pas et Dean voudrait te rassurer, mais il ne veut pas énerver encore plus John.Tu tiens ton bras pour minimiser la douleur pendant le trajet tout en repensant aux mots de John. Parmi tout ce qu’il a pu te reprocher, sa dernière phrase t’a plus particulièrement touchée. Depuis qu’il est venu te chercher, tu sais que John te traite différemment de Dean, il ne te voit pas comme faisant partie de la famille. Pourtant, ça ne t’empêche de sentir ton cœur explosé de douleur à chaque fois que John te le rappelle quand il précise bien que tu es seulement la demi-sœur de Dean ou encore quand il refuse que tu l’appelles “papa”, ça, c’est qui te fait le plus mal. 
Quand vous arrivez à l’hôpital, il n’y a pas beaucoup de monde, étonnamment, alors tu dois juste attendre une heure et demie avant d’être prise en charge. Quand ton plâtre est mis, vous retournez au motel, toujours en silence. Tu mords ta lèvre, stressée, alors que tu cherches quelque chose que tu pourrais dire pour rattraper tes erreurs, mais tu connais à peine John, tu ignores ce que tu dois dire. Quand vous passez la porte de votre chambre de motel, John t’indique la table de la petite cuisine. Réticente, tu t’éxecutes sans un mot et t’assois. Dean commence à te suivre, mais John lui ordonne d’aller se laver. Sachant que ce n’est pas le moment de défier ses ordres, Dean lui obéit. John reste debout, face à toi, te dominant de sa taille. Instinctivement, tu baisses les yeux sur tes doigts, tu joues avec eux jusqu’à ce que John prenne la parole.
-J’espère que tu réalises à quel point ce que tu as fait était dangereux.
-Oui, je ne le referai plus, promis.
-T’as intérêt ! T’aurais pu mourir et ton demi-frère aussi. Au moins t’as réussi à tuer quelques vampires, mais sinon tu as ruiné toute cette chasse ! Si tu veux pas retourner dans ta famille d’accueil, tu as intérêt à être plus utile les prochaines fois. J’ai pas besoin d’un poids mort, mais d’un chasseur, tonne-t-il.
-Je ferai mieux la prochaine fois, lui assures-tu, déterminée.
-On verra dans plusieurs mois vu que ta connerie t’a causé un bras cassé. Tu vas retourner aux recherches et dès que tu pourras reprendre l'entraînement, on s’y remettra, mais cette fois, je serai plus sévère. Tu dois apprendre comme il faut, je ne peux pas me permettre d’avoir une gamine qui ne sait pas ce qu’elle fait, crache John en appuyant sur le mot “gamine”, te blessant à nouveau. Me fais pas regretter ma décision d’être venu te chercher. Et enlève moi cet air triste de ta figure, j’ai pas le temps pour les faibles, non plus, t’ordonne-t-il et tu te tentes de te reprendre. Je vais au bar, finit-il en s’éloignant de toi.
Sans te lancer un regard, John quitte la chambre. Quand tu entends la porte claquer, tu sursautes. Les larmes remontent en un instant. Tu essayes de les retenir, mais plus tu clignes des yeux, plus larmes semblent être prêtes à tomber. Malgré toi, une larme coule sur ta joue. Tu l’essuies rapidement et espères que Dean ne t’ait pas vu, car il vient tout juste de sortir de la salle de bain. Tu prends de profondes inspirations, tentant de calmer tes émotions. Dean pose délicatement une main sur ton épaule et s'agenouille devant toi. 
-Hey, gamine, ça va ? 
Contrairement à John, le mot “gamine” dans la bouche de Dean semble plus affectueux. Tu vois à ses yeux qu’il est sincère, mais tu refuses de te montrer faible une seconde de plus. Tu t’éclarcis la gorge avant de le regarder dans les yeux.
-Oui, juste fatiguée de la journée. John est parti dans un bar.
-Juste toi et moi, alors ? Ça te dit d’aller au Burger d’en face ? propose-t-il avec un petit sourire.
-J’ai pas trop faim et je voudrais pas que John s’énerve encore plus, car on serait pas là à son retour.
-Il en a pour longtemps dans ce bar, t’inquiète et puis il faut bien reprendre des forces, tu as fait ta première chasse ! déclare-t-il en espérant te remonter le moral.
-Tu parles d’une victoire ! souffles-tu avant de lever les yeux au ciel. 
-Tu t’en es sortie qu’avec un bras cassé alors que c’était un nid de vampires, j’appelle ça une victoire. Allez, viens.
Dean t’aide à te lever de ta chaise. Il remet sa veste et prend son porte-monnaie avant de t’inviter à sortir. 
Au Burger, tu ne manges presque pas. Tu avales quelques frites, mais ne touches pas à ton hamburger alors que Dean dévore tout en une seconde. Dean ne fait pas la conversation, devinant que tu as besoin de silence, après tout ce que John a pu te dire. Dean sait que John n’a pas été tendre dans son deuxième sermon avec le peu qu’il a pu distinguer à travers les murs de la salle de bain. De plus, Dean te connait depuis seulement quelques mois alors il ignore si dans ce genre de situations, tu préfères parler ou rester seule. Dans le doute, il préfère être proche de toi sans être oppressant comme il le fait actuellement. Quand il a totalement fini son repas, il demande à faire emporter ton plat et va payer. 
Sur le chemin du retour, vous ne voyez pas l’Impala, ce qui te rassure, car tu sais que tu as encore le droit à du répit avant le retour de John. En entrant dans la chambre, tu prends rapidement tes affaires et t’enfermes dans la salle de bain. Une fois prête pour aller dormir, tu vas te coucher dans ton lit, te mettant dos à Dean qui est allongé sur le sien, en train de regarder la télé. Tu essayes de t’endormir, mais les mots de John continuent de tourner dans ta tête. Plus tu repenses à cette chasse, plus tu réalises à quel point tu as été crédule avec Jake. Mentalement, tu t’insultes de tous les noms, te disant qu’avec tes erreurs, tu as encore plus baissé dans le peu d’estime qu’il avait pour toi. En ressentant tes larmes monter, tu te forces à respirer doucement. Tu ne peux pas pleurer, surtout alors que Dean est à côté de toi. Il ne peut pas te voir être faible ou alors tu baisserais dans son estime à lui aussi et c’est la dernière chose que tu veux. Malgré tes tentatives pour être discrète, tu renifles, attirant l’attention de Dean. Au début, il se dit que ce n’est sûrement rien, mais quand il entend ta forte respiration et renifler plusieurs fois, il se lève de son lit et vient vers le tien. Il s’assoit à côté de toi et pose une main réconfortante sur ton épaule. En sentant sa présence, tu n’oses pas bouger, attendant une réprimande de sa part.
-Tu veux qu’on en parle ? questionne-t-il doucement.
-Il n’y a rien à dire, déclares-tu.
-Y/N, je sais à quel point ses mots peuvent affecter quelqu’un.
-Il a raison, j’ai été idiote, j’aurais dû être une meilleure chasseuse. 
-Tu as quinze ans et tu es toujours en train d'apprendre, rétorque Dean. Tu as été naïve, c’est vrai, mais il y encore quelques mois en arrière pour toi les vampires c’était une légende de Transylvanie et pas la réalité. Tu peux pas être parfaite dès le début. Tu allais forcément faire des erreurs lors de ta première chasse, tu ne peux pas t’en vouloir pour ça. Crois-moi, j’ai fait des erreurs bien pires pendant mes premières chasses, tente-t-il de te rassurer, mais tu restes silencieuse. Y/N, tu veux bien me regarder ?
-Non, je ne veux pas que tu penses que je suis faible, refuses-tu, honteuse.
-Pourquoi je penserais ça ?
-Les Winchester ne pleurent pas. Même si je n’en suis pas une vraie, dis-tu en répétant les mots de John.
Dean pousse un soupir, cherchant quoi dire. Il déteste la façon dont les mots de John sont déjà ancrés dans ta tête. Il aimerait pouvoir te rassurer comme un grand frère le devrait, mais tu restes dos à lui, n’osant pas lui faire face. Il sait qu’il ne devrait pas le prendre personnellement, mais savoir que tu penses qu’il pourrait agir comme John lui serre le cœur. 
-Je sais que je ne suis pas la meilleure personne pour dire ça, commence-t-il en hésitant, mais tu as le droit de pleurer. Avant d’être des chasseurs, on est humains.
-Je veux juste pas te décevoir comme j’ai déçu John, murmure-tu en reniflant.
-Tu ne vas pas me décevoir et pour ce qui est de John, il s’en remettra, tu peux me faire confiance. Quand tu te seras bien entraînée, il verra à quel point tu es une excellente chasseuse, une vraie Winchester, affirme Dean. 
-S’il ne m’a pas renvoyé dans ma famille d’accueil d’ici là, ajoutes-tu.
-Je ne le laisserai pas faire, déclare ton grand frère, déterminé. Maintenant que je sais que j’ai une petite soeur, je peux t’assurer que tu es bloquée avec moi jusqu’à ce que t’en décides autrement.
-Demi-sœur, corriges-tu, la voix de John résonnant dans ta tête.
-C’est-à-dire ma sœur. Tu fais partie de la famille, insiste Dean et tu sens une nouvelle larme couler sur ta joue.
-Pourquoi t’es si gentil avec moi ? Tu connaissais pas mon existence il y a encore six mois, tu as tous les droits de m’ignorer, questionnes-tu d’une voix tremblante.
-Je viens de te le dire, on est de la même famille, je tiens à toi. 
Sans répondre, tu te tournes vers lui avant de te jeter dans ses bras. Toutes les larmes que tu retenais depuis ces derniers mois coulent enfin sur tes joues. En sentant tes épaules bouger, Dean te serre un peu plus contre lui. Il te caresse le dos, t’invitant à faire sortir toutes émotions. Son cœur se brise un peu plus en réalisant à quel point tu te retenais de ne pas craquer pour satisfaire un minimum John. Il connait que trop bien la douleur alors ce soir-là, il veut s’assurer que tu saches qu’il sera toujours là pour te soutenir. Ta tête cachée dans le creux de sa nuque, tu restes dans ses bras, acceptant pour la première fois le réconfort de ton grand frère.
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{Ceci est mon blog secondaire donc je répondrai aux commentaires sous le pseudo @marie-sworld}
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doctorbitchcrxft · 5 months
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Hook Man | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of religious trauma/parental abuse
Word Count: 4869
A/N: Guys. We hit a bit of a milestone earlier in the week. Just wanted to say in celebration that I am so beyond grateful for all of your love and support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Giving big big kisses to all of you!!! Taglist is open!!
Edit: Hey.... I suck I forgot to add the taglist when I published. So sorry!!! fixed now!!!!
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You and Dean were sat at an outdoor cafe; coffee cups in hand. He was clacking away at his laptop while you wrote in your journal. You wrote your excerpt on the shapeshifter next to a drawing of Dean’s necklace. 
“Is that…?” Dean asked, pointing to your journal.
You nodded. 
“I didn’t know you could draw,” he said.
“No offense, lovebug, but you don’t know much of anything about me,” you retorted.
He scoffed. “Will you take the compliment and be quiet?”
“I didn’t hear a compliment,” you giggled. “Well, maybe in ‘Dean Winchester Land’ it was a compliment.”
“Oh, shut up,” he responded playfully. 
Sam hung up the payphone he was standing in and came back over to your table.
“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis,” Dean jabbed at his brother.
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” you told him.
“So, anything?” Dean asked Sam.
Sam huffed. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”
“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”
Sam looked disappointed.
“Check this out.” Dean turned his laptop around to you and Sam. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”
“Thank god, a short trip,” you sighed. 
“ ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road,’ “ Sam read from the article.
“Keep reading.” Dean nodded at his laptop.
“ ‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.’ “
That last line caught your attention. “Could be something interesting.”
“Or it could be nothing at all,” Sam protested. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”
“But what if it is? Dad would check it out,” Dean responded.
***
The one hundred mile drive concluded with the boys dropping you off at a sorority house. 
“Remind me why I have to play barbies for the week again?” you asked.
“Because this is Lori Sorensen’s sorority house; the witness from the killing,” Sam replied.
“Great,” you mumbled.
���Have fun making s’mores and singing campfire songs,” Dean remarked.
“Bite me,” you snarked. “You’re going to a frat, though, Steve McQueen, so I wouldn’t be so cocky.” 
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he grumbled. 
“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said and shouldered your duffel bag. You bid them goodbye and reluctantly marched up to the door of the sorority house.
A girl with long, dark curls opened the door. “Hi,” she said. “Can I… help you?”
“Yeah, I’m (Y/N),” you explained. “I’m your sorority sister from Ohio State. Do you guys have an extra bed I could sleep in? I just transferred here.”
“Sure,” she grinned. “I’m Taylor, by the way.” 
“Nice to meet you.” 
She led you inside and introduced you to Lori Sorensen. She was a sweet girl; very naive and a little stuck-up. Taylor seemed a little more like a party girl, but still relatively tame. You decided you could gel with these girls for the time being. 
They told you they were headed to Sunday service at Lori’s father’s church and invited you to go with them. You obliged.
In the middle of the introductory rites, you heard the heavy church door slam shut. Your head swiveled to find Sam and Dean frozen and looking guilty. You scoffed amusedly and rolled your eyes, turning your attention forward for the rest of the service. 
Taylor invited you and Lori out to a party after the service, but Lori said she couldn’t. Her father had dinner with her every Sunday since her mother passed away. She and Taylor hugged and Taylor bid you goodbye before heading off.
Sam and Dean came over to you and Lori.
“Guys!” you said excitedly. “Sam, Dean, this is Lori.” You introduced her to them. “They’re my friends from Ohio. They transferred with me.” 
“I saw you inside,” she told them.
“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…”
Dean cut his brother off. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”
You knew where this was going; he was cruising for another hookup.
“I kind of know what you’re going through,” Sam broke back in. “I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”
Lori nodded slightly. Just then, her father came up to your group.
“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). They’re new students.”
Dean shook the reverend’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”
“Thank you very much,” he smiled. “It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” 
“Yes, sir,” you replied and began leading him away from Sam and Lori. “Actually, we’re looking for a new church group…”
***
Later that day, you and the boys were sitting together in the local library. Sam relayed to you what Lori had told him about the passing of the guy she was with.
“So, you believe her?” Dean asked him.
“I do,” he nodded.
“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smirked at him. 
“You think almost everything with a vagina and legs is hot, Dean,” you remarked.
“Not you,” he jabbed back, still smirking.
You clutched a hand to your chest. “I’m hurt, you dick.”
He rolled his eyes at you.
“Can we focus, please?” Sam broke in. “There’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”
“Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—”
 Sam cut you off. “Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.” 
“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever,” Dean added. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”
“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began,” said Sam.
“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”
“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?” 
You had the librarian bring over boxes of arrest records. The three of you poured through pages upon pages for hours. 
“Hey, check this out. 1862,” Sam said finally. “A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’ “
“Get this, the murder weapon?” Dean was looking at another page. “Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.” 
You pointed to a page in Sam’s book. “Look where all this happened. Nine Mile Road.”
“Same place where the frat boy was killed,” Sam chimed in. 
“Nice job, Dr. Venkamen and Annie Potts. Let’s check it out,” the older brother quipped.
The three of you headed to Nine Mile Road. Dean parked off the road in a clearing in the woods. He popped the trunk and handed Sam a shotgun. “Here you go.”
“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said.
“Yeah, rock salt. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean led the three of you through the clearing. 
“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?” 
“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”
“Cool it, Winchester. You and your daddy aren’t the first people to think of rock salt bullets.” You loaded your own gun with shells of your own.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“They’re a bitch to roll,” you said.
“Oh, one hundred percent,” he remarked. 
You suddenly heard rustling in the bushes.
“Over there,” you whispered to Sam. The two of you aimed your guns and cocked it. 
The “ghost” came out from behind the trees. A sheriff. 
‘Dammit.’
“Put the gun down now!” he yelled. “Now! Put your hands behind your head.”
“Wait, wait, okay!” Dean told him. 
You immediately dropped your gun and put your hands up.
“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”
You three obeyed.
“Now get down on your bellies,” he commanded. “Come on, do it!”
“Are you just on a power trip or something? ‘Cause— ah!” you were cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Sam. 
The sheriff brought the three of you into the station. It was early the next morning by the time you were able to leave.
“Saved your asses!” Dean jeered. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I am Matlock.”
“How was it that you were left in charge of talking him down?” You raised a brow at him. “And how in the fuck did you do it?”
“Sweetheart, this may surprise you, but I’m good at my job. And I told him Sam was a dumbass pledge, you were his girlfriend we’d dragged along, and we were hazing you.”
You and Sam both recoiled at the idea of dating each other.
“First of all, ew,” you started, “No offense, Sam.”
“None taken.”
“But what about the shotguns?”
“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”
“And he believed you?” you asked incredulously.
“Well, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge.”
“Can’t argue with that.” You stuck your tongue out at Sam.
Moments later, several officers ran out of the building to their cruisers. Barely needing to share a look with the boys, you hurried into the car and sped away to follow them.
You could see Lori wrapped in a disposable blanket in front of the sorority house you were staying in. You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you had no doubt that it was another murder. The stretcher carrying a body bag rolling out of the front door affirmed that thought seconds later.
Dean parked the Impala around the back of the house. 
“Why would the Hook Man come here?” Sam asked as the three of you crept around the building. “This is a long way from Nine Mile Road.”
“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested. 
You pulled his arm back seconds later to avoid being seen by your “sorority sisters.” You used the fact that you had now pretty much pulled yourself in front of him to allow you to lead the way up to the second floor. 
While Dean made a stupid joke about a naked pillow fight, Sam was busy giving you a boost before climbing up himself. You looked back down at the ground to see Dean struggling to find his footing.
“Need help?” you smirked.
“No,” he grumbled.
“I think you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
You waited patiently, leaning your head in your hands on the railing of the balcony and smiling down at him. He struggled for a few more moments before he conceded. All he did was open and close his hand he was extending upwards, similar to a toddler asking to be picked up.
“What’s the magic word?” you sing-songed.
“Come on!” he hissed. “Please?”
“There we go,” you smiled. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled him up.
You then realized the window you were entering was the one in Lori and Taylor’s closet. You hoped to god in that moment that Taylor wasn’t the one dead.
Your fears were realized, however, when you entered Lori and Taylor’s room to find the words “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?” crudely etched into the wall above Taylor’s blood soaked bed. You didn’t exactly get attached to people on hunts, but seeing good people die was never easy for you. It didn’t get easier. Your dad would call you soft, but you always liked to look at your compassion as a strength.
“ ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ That’s right out of the legend,” Sam whispered.
“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean tapped his nose as he spoke. “It’s definitely a spirit.”
“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before,” Sam muttered.
“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked you. 
You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. Fine. It’s just… look at this symbol.” You were referencing the one beneath the writing. “Does that look familiar to you?”
Your head jerked toward the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly shooed Sam and Dean back into the closet and out of the house. Thankfully, you made it back to the car without being seen. You pulled the copy you’d made at the library of one of the pages on Jacob Karns out of the backseat. That was where you had seen the cross symbol; on Karns’s hook. 
You showed it to the boys. “Told ya.”
“Alright, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,” Dean said.
Sam took the page from your hand. “ ‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.’ “ He flicked the page with his finger, looking aggravated; as were you and Dean.
“Super,” the older brother muttered.
“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why,” Sam pointed out.
“I could just be spitballing here, but Lori definitely has something to do with it,” you said, looking up at the sorority house.
***
You managed to get into a party at the fraternity house Sam and Dean were staying in later that night. Dean had been busy mingling with thin college girls dressed in mini skirts while Sam stuck to the outside wall. You bounced around from talking to Sam and hustling some of the drunk frat guys in multiple rounds of pool.
The three of you reunited around the pool table you’d been dominating that night.
“Man, you’ve been holding out on me,” Dean told Sam. “This college thing is awesome!” He smiled and winked at a passing girl.
Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “This wasn’t really my experience.”
“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?”
Sam nodded. You chortled.
“What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?” 
“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam unfolded a piece of paper. 
“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read.
Your eyebrows knitted together.
“There’s a pattern here,” Sam explained. “In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out— get this— with a sharp instrument.”
“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asked.
“Her dad. Man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” you pointed out. “Maybe this time, though, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his kid.”
“Reverend Sorensen,” Dean tsked. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”
“Maybe it’s like when a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place,” you suggested.
“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”
“Without the reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam chimed in.
“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean told his brother.
“What about you?” 
Dean looked over to the opposite side of the pool table where the blonde you’d been playing with smiled at him. He reluctantly said, “(Y/N) and I are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.” 
“We are? I wanted to play more eight-ball,” you told him. 
He looked back over at the blonde, back at you, and shook his head in disappointment. “C’mon. I’m not happy about it either.”
***
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back?” you asked Dean as the two of you trudged through the Old North Cemetery. You were holding shovels and flashlights searching for the grave of Jacob Karns.
He shot you a look.
“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” you laughed. “But seriously. Now that we’re… acquaintances, we should go out to a bar sometime. Preferably one with a pool table.”
“That’d be cool, actually,” he said, smirking at you. “You’re pretty good.”
“What, at pool?”
He nodded. “I could probably still kick your ass, though.”
“You’re on, pretty boy.”
He stopped and turned to you. “Don’t objectify me.”
“What?” you asked, stopping next to him. “You know you’re gorgeous. You frequently use it to your advantage.” You marched on.
You smiled when you heard him mutter, “You are so confusing, woman.”
You walked for a few more minutes before your flashlight landed on a grave marked with that cross symbol from Taylor’s room. “Jackpot.”
You and Dean set to work exhuming Jacob’s corpse. Your back and shoulders ached more and more the deeper you dug. “How fucking far down is six feet?” you remarked breathlessly. 
“I don’t know, but next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” he replied.
“Aw, you don’t wanna spend quality time with this cute girl?” you asked playfully. 
He eyed you strangely with a lopsided smile. 
“What?” you asked.
“Nothing. You’re just funny,” he told you.
You smiled back and got back to digging. Your shovel finally hit the wooden box lying below. You broke through it to reveal his corpse. Or at least, what remained of it. 
“Hello, preacher,” Dean said. He threw his shovel aside and helped you out of the hole you had dug. After he had climbed out, you poured salt and lighter fluid all over the bones. 
“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean threw a match down into the grave.
Your nose twisted up in disgust. “I will never get used to that smell.”
“What, burnt, hundred-year-old preacher? Me neither.”
You and Dean packed up and headed back to the car that was parked in the cemetery’s parking lot. Your body was exhausted. 
“Um, weird question,” you started. 
He turned to you and threw his shovel and duffel bag in the trunk. 
“You think we could sleep in your car for a bit? I’m running on two days of no sleep.”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It should all be over now and Sam should be layin’ it down with Lori.”
And so, you did. You stretched out over the backseat, and Dean laid down on the front. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, and strangely, you no longer felt tired. You supposed it was the strangeness of the situation. You were now sharing a somewhat intimate moment with a man you despised just weeks prior. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship with Dean was heading, and that bothered you a bit.
“Dean?”
“Hm.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, (Y/N).”
***
Four hours of shut-eye later, you felt recharged. You awoke to the sound of Dean’s phone vibrating over which Sam told you to meet him at a hospital.
“Hospital? Why? Is he okay?” you asked Dean, climbing over the front seat to sit shotgun. 
“I think so, but he said the reverend’s hurt.”
About fifteen minutes later, you were walking down a long corridor only to be stopped by two cops in wide-brimmed hats. 
The sheriffs put a hand to Dean’s chest to stop him.
“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s my brother,” he explained. “Hey! Brother!” he called, waving dorkishly at Sam.  
“Let them through.”
“Thanks.” 
You and Dean began walking toward Sam, who met you in the middle.
“You okay?” Dean asked. 
“Yeah,” sighed Sam.
“What the hell happened?” 
“Hook Man.”
You looked incredulous. “You saw him?”
“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam responded.
“We did,” you rebutted, confused. “You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”
“It sure as hell looked like him,” Sam returned. “And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”
“Well, duh, he wouldn’t send Hook Man after himself,” you remarked.
“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” He whispered that last part.
“Damn.” You gritted your teeth. “I could see how that could upset her.”
Sam nodded. “She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”
“Ok, so she’s conflicted,” Dean chimed in. “And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?”
“Right,” the younger brother nodded. “Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.”
“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean muttered. “But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?”
“We must’ve missed something,” you said. 
“No, we burned everything in that coffin.”
“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked the two of you.
Realization struck you. “Fuck,” you grumbled. “No.”
“Why does that matter?” Dean asked.
“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,” Sam told him.
“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.”
“So if we find the hook—”
The three of you finished Sam’s sentence in unison, grinning. “We stop the Hook Man.”
“Well, back to the drawing board,” you said as the three of you began walking away from the reverend’s hospital room.
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
“Do you know where the hook is?” you raised your eyebrows at him. 
He said nothing.
“Exactly,” you giggled.
***
Your next stop was the library for the second time this hunt. As much as you liked to read, obnoxious amounts of research was not your thing. Finally, you thought you’d found something. “Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary. ‘Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.’ “
“Does it mention the hook?” Sam asked you.
“I don’t know. ‘Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church,’ “ you read aloud. “That’s where Lori’s dad preaches.”
“Where Lori lives, too?” Sam asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.
“Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past two hundred years,” Dean added.
“Yeah, but I think someone would’ve noticed a blood-stained, silver-handled hook hangin’ around the church or Lori’s house.”
Dean pulled out another book and slapped it down in front of you. “Check the church records.”
Sam pulled the book to sit between the two of you. You and he flipped through pages upon pages of records before he found something. “ ‘St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.’ “ He sighed. “They melted it down. Made it into something else.”
“Goddammit,” you grumbled. 
Later that night, you and the boys returned to St. Barnabas Church. Dean shouldered a duffel bag and began leading you to the church. Sam followed close behind.
“Alright, we can’t take any chances,” the older brother began. “Anything silver goes in the fire.”
“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam added.
“Okay, take your pick,” you told him.
“I’ll take the house,” Sam responded.
“Dean and I will take the church, then.”
“We will?” the older brother asked.
“Yup.”
You led Dean up to the church. He called back to his brother. “Hey. Stay out of her underwear drawer.”
You could hear the smirk in his voice and giggled.
You took the top floor of the church while Dean scoured the basement. The two of you, along with Sam, met up in the furnace room. 
“I got everything that even looked silver,” Sam told you.
“Better safe than sorry,” Dean said. 
Your head turned upward at the sound of footsteps. You could hear Dean taking his gun from his jacket as you grabbed yours.
“Move, move,” Dean told you quietly.
You crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. When you got back to the ground floor, you could see Lori hunched over, her shoulders shaking. You lowered your gun and lightly pushed Sam forward. He shot you a look, but headed over to Lori anyway. You and Dean went back downstairs to continue melting the silver. 
“I feel for her,” you said quietly. “I know how much religion can fuck you up.” Silver clanked against the coals in the furnace as you spoke.
Dean turned his head to you. “You do?”
You nodded. “I’ve watched so many people go through crisis after crisis when their loved ones end up dead.”
“Me too,” he said earnestly. “Probably why I don’t pray.”
“Well, it’s a little difficult to believe in a higher power when all day, everyday is blood, guts, and monsters,” you remarked.
He chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve met one religious hunter.”
“I have,” you said. “My mom.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She was somehow still convinced of ‘God’s plan.’ “
“Catholic?”
“Oh, very.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied playfully.
“Yeah, me too,” you smiled. “My dad wasn’t, but, uh, he had his… other issues.”
Before he could ask further questions, you heard commotion upstairs. It sounded like running heading toward the opposite side of the basement.
“C’mon,” Dean urged, sprinting out of the furnace room with his gun in hand. You followed closely behind. You could hear the breaking of boards and slamming of what you assumed were bodies that practically shook the walls that got louder as you got closer. Sam was maneuvering himself behind the Hook Man’s clunkily-moving apparition. 
Dean gruffly called to his brother, “Sam, drop!”
His brother obeyed and Dean shot the Hook Man, who disappeared.
“I thought we got all the silver,” you said.
“So did I,” the older brother answered.
“Then why is he still here?” Sam’s voice was frantic.
“Well, maybe we missed something!”
You looked around and noticed Lori’s cross necklace. “Lori, where did you get that chain?”
“My father gave it to me,” she responded nervously.
“Where’d your dad get it?” Sam asked.
“He said it was a church heirloom,” she answered quickly. “He gave it to me when I started school.”
“Is it silver?!”
“Yes!”
Sam ripped the chain off her and threw it to you. You caught it with ease and went to start running back down the hall when the invisible Hook Man started dragging his hook along the wall.  
You threw Sam your gun and started running down another corridor you hoped would bring you to the same destination. You could vaguely hear Dean say to his brother, “I’ll cover (Y/N), shoot anything that moves!” before you heard approaching quick footsteps behind you.
You sprinted down winding hallways and thankfully quickly made it to the furnace room. You threw the necklace into the fire and watched as it slowly began to melt. “C’mon, c’mon,” you muttered anxiously. It took longer than you would’ve liked, but the cross broke off the necklace and burned into ash. As soon as it did, you and Dean ran back to the latter’s brother to make sure the ghost was gone. Thankfully, he had, but Sam seemed injured. He was clutching his left shoulder and wincing. 
You called the police to the scene and urged them to send an ambulance. They arrived in no time, and Sam was able to get his injury patched up. 
“And you saw him, too?” A sheriff was asking you and writing in a notepad. “The man with the hook?”
“Yeah, we all saw him,” you responded. “We fought him off and then he ran.”
“And that’s all?” The sheriff was skeptical.
“Yes, sir.”
“Listen. You and those two boys—”
Dean came up behind you and answered for you. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.”
You laughed at his response. Sam and Lori talking near the ambulance caught your eye. You continued watching them in the rearview mirror once you’d gotten in the backseat of the car. Sam soon left Lori, who looked after him sadly, and stooped down into the car. 
“We could stay,” Dean suggested. 
You could tell Sam wanted to, but he shook his head. A deflated air had settled over the car, but you knew the younger Winchester wasn’t ready for anything yet. He’d been dating Jessica for a year and a half and had just lost her less than four months ago. You knew he needed more time. The best way you knew to comfort him was to wrap your hands around his shoulders gently, minding his injury, from your place in the backseat. He tensed for a moment, but allowed you to hug him nonetheless. He responded by holding your arm with his good hand. And for a moment, if you closed your eyes, it was almost like hugging Steven again. 
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee
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ellieslittleburrow · 7 months
Text
Siblings : sleepover
Summary : You live near campus, away from Dean and Sam. You haven't seen them in a while. How do you react when you find them right at your door?
Pairings : Dean and Sam winchester x sister
Warnings : nooone, just fluff.
A/N : Hi, babies ❣❣ I hope this is as refreshing to you as it was for me.
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Oil sizzled as you set the stove on the lowest heat. You tossed the chopped up onions into the pan, filling the room with the familiar aroma.
The house phone rang. And you moved the pan aside before heading for the phone. You pressed a button, setting the phone near your ear when a familiar hum sounded.
Oh my god!
"Dean!" You excitedly shouted, earning yourself an "ouch" over the other line. You pressed a another button, opening the complex door for him and since you were only in the third floor, it only took him a quick minute to appear, followed by Sam.
"Hii" You opened your arms, running to embrace both of them. "What a surprise."
"Hey, kiddo." Dean tightly wrapped his arms around you, letting you go when Sam spoke.
"Hey, honey." Sam pulled you into a hug.
"I missed you both so much." Your voice vibrated into Sam's chest. "What are you doing here?"
"Eating, apparently." As Dean's voice went distant, you pulled away from Sam, spinning around to find Dean marching towards the kitchen.
You let out a little chuckle, following behind.
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After setting the plates and beers on the table, you plumped down on the couch, waiting for your brothers to join. And as all three of you started eating, an hour and a half of talks about life, uni, cases and john flowed seamlessly.
"So..." Dean coughed. "Anybody in your life....kid?"
You rolled your eyes at Dean's sudden change of voice. You knew this one, a low tone, manipulative and curious. You're not falling for it.
"Nobody, Dean." You smiled at him, not caring that he already knew you were lying.
"Are you sure about that? Because i'm pretty sure you don't wear size 12 flip floppers." He eyed the entry door and you snorted a laugh. Fucking hell..This guy's eyes..
"Leave her alone, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes before turning to you. "As long as you're happy, honey."
You smiled at his response....your eyes darting around the room when silence set in...
"Alright....Time to head out, Dean." Sam slapped his thighs, readying himself to get up when you pushed him back down.
"No!"
"We have to go, honey. We still have 5 hours to go before we get there." Sam argues and you shook your head.
"Please don't....it's only been an hour." You pleaded, looking over at Dean, who, to your surprise, was staring at you with pleading eyes.
He did not want to go either.
"Come on, Sammy. It's-" you spun around to get a look at the clock. "It's 6pm, don't you wanna get some sleep and head back for the road tomorrow morning?."
Sam grimaced. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey. I really do want to stay, but we could always stay over on our way ba-."
You turned to Dean, leaving Sam hanging. But Dean was already laid back, quiet, waiting for you to do all the dirty work. That's when Sam spoke again.
"Okay, how about this" He started, and your eyes grew wide, anticipating what's about to happen.
Sam straightened his back as he held his arms out, positioning one hand on top of the other, his right fist resting on top of his left palm. And as Dean understood the assignment, he got up, mirroring sam.
And in silence you watched, as for the very first time, Sam laid a rock, losing the fight as early as the first round.
You burst into laughter as Sam's eyebrows arose. Nobody expected that. And as you lifted your arms up, jumping in pure ecstasy, Dean grinned triumphantly.
"I won."
You nodded. "And you spend the night here."
Sam smacked his hands together. "Alright, then. Let's prep for a night in."
----
And we're done! If yall can spare a minute and tell me about my writiing pleaase? if i should change it up, if it's too repetitive and stuff. No pressure and thanks in advance ❣ 🖤🖤🥀🥀
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 3 months
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how do you think dean would react to sister!winchester calling him dad for the first time?? what about if it becomes a continuous and subconscious habit?
I think it would happen in season 5-6, here’s why—
—it needs to be a good bit after John dies, both because she loved John so much, and because of habit.
—there’s too much going on in season 3, 4, and 5 with Dean going to hell and Sam’s powers and Lucifer for it to happen then
—I think the home atmosphere with Ben and Lisa, mixed with Sam being gone, would really help Dean step into the “dad” role, not just with Ben but with his little sister, too.
It’s late one night, and Dean was up researching stuff about hell again instead of sleeping. He hears footsteps on the staircase, and he thinks it’s Lisa again coming to check on him. He changes his browser before turning to see his little sister descending the stairs.
“Why are you up?” She asks.
“Nothin much, just some work,” he says, standing up as he speaks. He can lie to Lisa, but you both know he can’t lie to you. He figures the best way to avoid talking about it would be to just go to bed now, rather than trying to talk you into leaving him down here.
“Ok,” you shrug, and Dean’s glad you gave up so easily.
“Commere, I’ll take you to bed,” Dean says, slinging an arm around your shoulder and guiding you upstairs.
“I like it here.” You’re whispering as you reach the top of the stairs, but Dean can still hear you, and it makes him smile.
“Yeah?” He says.
“Yeah.” You smile. “It feels like home.”
Dean doesn’t even know what to say to that, but he knows it makes him happy—the last thing he wanted was for you to feel left out with his new family, because he wanted you to be a part of it.
Dean tucks you into bed, and he’s just turning to go when—
“Goodnight, dad. I love you.”
Your voice is muffled and your eyes are already closed—you’re half asleep, but it doesn’t matter. Your words mean just as much to Dean as anything he’s ever heard.
“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you too.”
He’s not even sure if you’re still awake to hear it.
You say it again in the morning, a casual “Morning dad. What’s for breakfast?” As you rub the sleep out of your eyes.
Lisa hears you, and she smiles but doesn’t say anything about it—Dean’s told her about how often John was gone and how he basically raised you, so she figured it was only a matter of time before your obvious dad-daughter dynamic took a next step.
“Pancakes,” Dean says, and his grin is much wider than usual.
I think there might be some part really deep down that feels a little weird, maybe even guilty, about taking John’s place. But he doesn’t listen to that part when he can help it—his baby sister calls him dad, and he’s going to enjoy it.
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