Seat Belts Save Lives
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: You and your brothers get into a car accident, and Dean blames himself.
“Would you put your seatbelt on?”
You rolled your eyes at Sam’s demand and ignored him.
“You know that’s not safe.”
“Eh, leave her be Sammy,” Dean cut in. “We’ve got a long drive, if she wants to lay out back there let her. She should get some sleep anyway.”
You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at Sam as you made yourself comfortable in the back.
“Whatever,” Sam grumbled, reaching for the radio.
“Excuse me?” Dean scoffed as he slapped Sam’s hand away. “You don’t get to change my station, you know the rules, Sammy.”
“They’ve played the same song four times in a row, Dean. I figured you didn’t notice, so I’d give you a hand.”
“I noticed,” Dean said defensively. “I like this song.”
“So did I,” Sam huffed. “But that was before—Dean, watch out! Hey—“
Sam reached over to jerk the steering wheel, but it was too late. The car that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere—on the wrong side of the road—slammed into the side of the Impala. You felt your body leave the seat, your head slamming into the back of Dean’s seat.
And then it all went black.
You awoke to the sound of Dean calling your name. Your head felt heavy, your ears were ringing, and the world seemed fuzzy for a few minutes before your head cleared. Once it did, you wished it didn’t.
Your head was pounding, and slick, sticky red was oozing out of a cut on your leg and your head. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when you craned your neck painfully you saw why. Along with the bleeding cuts, your wrist was twisted at a strange angle, and the Impala’s door was dented in, pinning you down so that you couldn’t even feel your legs, much less move them.
“Y/N.” You could hear the sigh of relief in Sam’s voice, coming from near your head. “Dean, her eyes are open.”
“Ok baby.” Dean’s voice came from down by your feet, on the right side of the car. “I’m gonna lift the door up, and Sammy’s gonna pull you out. I need you to brace yourself, this is gonna hurt.”
“Ok,” you whimpered, your hands beginning to shake.
“Alright, I’ve got her,” Sam told Dean, grabbing hold of you under your arms and preparing to pull you out.
“Alright. One…two…” Dean grunted at three as he lifted the door. The change in pressure sent pain shooting up your legs, and you screamed as Sam pulled you free of the car.
“I know, I know honey.” Sam collapsed in the dirt next to the Impala, hugging you to his chest as you cried. “It’s over.”
The pain refused to subside, and within seconds you gave into the dark that overtook your vision.
…
“She’s unconscious,” Sam said as Dean knelt next to his two younger siblings.
“The ambulance is on the way.”
“Dean, she’s lost a lot of blood.”
“She’ll be fine,” Dean insisted. “She’s gonna be just fine.”
…
“Is she ok? What’s going on in there?”
“She’s still unconscious,” the nurse told Sam. “We’ve finished stitching her wounds, and we’re prepping for a blood transfusion, but her blood type is hard to find.”
“Me, use me,” Dean spoke up. “We have the same type.”
“I’m afraid you’ve lost a lot of blood, too,” The nurse responded. “We can’t risk—“
“I don’t care about the risk!” Dean barked. “Use my blood!”
“I—um…” the nurse seemed unsure how to respond. “Let me talk to the doctor.”
As soon as she was gone, Sam turned to his big brother. “Dean, you shouldn’t—“
“I have to. She could die, do you get that? I have to do this.”
“They can find someone else, I’m sure—“
“You don’t get it, Sam,” Dean sighed.
Sam was angry. “Don’t get it? What could I possibly not get about this, Dean?”
Dean was silent for a long moment before he spoke.
“I told her not to wear her seat belt.”
…
You awoke to an annoying beeping to your right, and a sharp antiseptic smell hanging in the air. You blinked your eyes open, trying to adjust to the too-bright lights. Once you had, you caught sight of Sam sleeping in a chair to your right. You turned to the other side to see Dean sitting at an uncomfortable angle in an even more uncomfortable chair, his head drooping and your hand clutched in his.
When you squeezed his hand, his head popped up.
“Hey baby,” he breathed, a grin splitting his face. “How do you feel?”
“My head hurts.” You were used to ‘sucking it up’ as Sam and Dean did, saying you were fine as long as nothing was broken. But you didn’t have the energy to lie right now; it hurt, and all you wanted was your big brother to baby you and make it feel better.
“I’m sorry.” Dean reached up his free hand and brushed your hair away from your face. “Baby I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” you said. “That guy came out of nowhere.”
Dean was about to respond, but stopped when Sam started to stir.
“Hey,” Sam grinned when he saw you awake. “You ok?”
“Been better.” You smiled weakly.
“The doc said you two can leave tomorrow,” Sam said.
“The two of us?” Your eyes turned back to Dean. “You’re hurt?”
“He didn’t get hurt that bad in the crash,” Sam interjected before Dean could speak. “But he lost some blood, and then he gave you some. Docs say he needs bed rest.”
“Which is ridiculous,” Dean scoffed. “I’m fine.”
“You gave blood after getting injured? Dean, are you nuts?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you got rare blood.” Dean tried to deflect with a joking smile.
“Dean.” You remained serious.
“Look,” Dean sighed. “You needed blood, I gave you some blood, it’s not a big deal.”
“You can’t just—“
“I don’t want to talk about it, alright?” Dean insisted. “We’re all ok. That’s all that matters. Now get some rest, ok?”
You said nothing, and Dean’s words made you finally realize just how tired you felt.
Sam leaned over and kissed your head before leaning back in his chair, but Dean stayed right next to you, your hand gripped in his. You felt yourself slowly slipping back into sleep, but just before you gave in to your exhaustion, you heard Dean whisper to you—
“I’m sorry. I’m never gonna let anything like this happen again.”
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@nyotamalfoy
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Summary : John Winchester, your father, is protective of you
Warnings : swearing and cute John
A/N : should we write more John Winchester?
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John Winchester, a man of many flaws. Sammy can attest to that, he suffered the most from John's decisions. Dean would stand against that, he's been John's boy since the day he was born. Dad this, dad that; That doesn't mean it isn't complicated, though.
You on the other hand.....umm....not suuuure where you stand really, where do you stand?
Everything felt different for you with John. Everything. His love for you was established since the beginning. He got a spark in his eyes whenever you were around that neither of his two boys ever got the chance to see, even Dean.
You were his baby girl.
There were the times where he stood up for you. The bullies??? Never stood a chance. There was that one time in particular when you got h-
"Hey! What did i tell you about slamming doors?" A scolding growl sounded, one that would usually....send shivers down your spine. This time it left you unbothered, or maybe fueled your anger even more.
In an attempt to not cry in front of the Great Winchester, you hurried to the bed assigned to you and threw yourself into a sleeping position, your back facing him.
"HEY" his growl grew angrier and you just hugged yourself. You didn't need him exploding your eardrums on top of everything else that had happened that day. His steps closed in on you and soon enough, your waist was gently being pulled back- you were facing him.
As his eyes navigated around your face, his features simultaniously softened. The creases shaped by the frown on your eyebrows, the sucked in lower lip, the damp eyelashes, all signs of-
"You were crying?" A stupid question that John needed no answer to. He somehow knew why, too. But he asked anyway. "Was it the kids at school?"
With that-you force yourself back on your side. "I told you not to force me into a new school."
Your mumble is muffled but John already knew what you were going to say-you've had this conversation many a times before.
"Come on" Your father tapped your butt before heading towards the door. And your curiosity itched your brain and you turned around, sitting up.
"Where are you going?" You asked and he glanced at you over his own shoulder, a mischivious smile embellishing his face.
"Just get your ass up."
Over in the car, John turned to you. "Do you know where this kid lives?"
You took your damn time to respond, both of you will get into trouble buuuuuuut.... A smirk ghosted your lips. "Yeaaaah?"
"Good, that saves us a lot of time."
You nervously chuckled. "A lot of time for what, dad?" The Impala roared as silence followed your question. You sort of understood. And as you directed him towards the bully's house, your stomach tightened in a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
"Right there, the Cayenne, his father's." You pointed at the car and your dad shamelessly parked his own only a few couples of meters away.
Another nervous chuckle left your lips as your head popped forward. Your eyes followed your dad as he jumped out of the car and headed for the trunk. The hood popped up for a minute and then your dad reappeared with what seemed to be a....BAT?
You jumped out of the car and distress shot through your veins. "Dad" You called for him but he'd already made up his mind and as you stressfullly walked behind him, he casually headed for the car, the bat vibrating in his hands. "Dad, you're gonna get us into trouble." You whispered as if whispering would make the crime your father is about to commit any less obvious.
But John totally ignored you and he swung the bat before sending it into the Cayenne's back window-the glass instantly chattered. You flinched and before you were even able to process the first hit, a second one echoed through the quiet neighborhood.
You flinched again. "Dad, st-"
"I'm only doing this for you, honey." John rounded the car and stopped at the front of the car. "If it were up to me, i'd slice the boy AND his father." The third swing hit harder, more violent. And the alarm continues blaring. "All he had to do was teach his son some manners. But since he can't do that, i'll teach 'em both a good lesson."
There's that story, and there's another one. Where you're being you, and for you, emotions have a like, a giant gravitational pull on your life-just like this time.
You and dad have been on the road for almost two days-stupid shapeshifters and it's that week of the month that's the most chaoti-- and this stupid fucking booth is weird and squishy and-
Your cheeks grew hot and wetness suddenly streamed down your face. When John noticed, he blew out a long sigh. He shut his eyes slowly, bringing his index and thumb to the opposite sides of his face, rubbing roughly.
Not fucking cool, dad. This shit's tiring enough. 'You know what-" You stop midsentence, rushing off to the bathroom but a sudden strain pulled you back.
"No-no, i'm sorry, honey, i'm sor-"
"I'm already tired enough." Your voice came out full and rough, heavy with the build up of saliva in your throat. "don't need you making fun of m-" You were about to yank your wrist away when he held it tighter.
"Come on that's not what's happening here." John swiftly got up and faced you. "I just-i'm tired too, kid. I-" He sighed again, and you wiped away your tears.
"Coooome here." Too slow but too sweet-and not a question either, your dad reached for the back of your head and brought it to his chest. He planted a kiss over your hair and gently swayed both of your bodies left and right. "Dad's here." His tone might've been gentle, but it still bore a hint of annoyance.
He doesn't mean-he "You don't mean that-you're just saying it because i'm-"
"Noo i do mean it, baby, i do-" he sighed once more. "I'm just tired. That's why i sound like this." He planted a second kiss on your forehead before boaring into your eyes. You dropped your gaze down in the process, too-
"I'm sorry." His thick eyebrows softened back to their normal position. And his bunny teeth appeared. Amused, he hesitated to speak for a few seconds. "You know you're too old for this right?"
You pinched his waist, causing him to jerk back, choking on a chuckle.
You sniffed, throwing embarassed glances his way. "Shut up."
"I'm sorry, honey."
What the hell is wrong with me? Is the first thought that comes to mind. There sure are many more stories to tell about the great John Winchester. But to sum it all up, you are indeed on his fucking side.
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@marvelfanfn2187a113
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WOO WOO, i hope yall made it to the end. See ya next time 🖤🖤🖤🥀🥀🥀
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