#winchesters x reader

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Speak up

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @outof-spite and Anonymous (+ @ whoever I swear left me a vampire request that I think I lost, hopefully you know who you are)

Synopsis: You barely talk, and never raise your voice . . . So the boys are in for a surprise during a hunt

“Could you speak up?”

Dean watched you flounder for a moment after the waiter’s demand spilled out. You managed to stutter a few—still mumbled—words, but nothing the waiter would understand.

“She said she wanted the burger,” Dean spoke up for you. “No pickles.”

You squirmed sheepishly in your seat as the waiter walked away, but Dean was unfazed.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean shook his head. He was used to your soft voice, and he’d been speaking for you since you learned to talk. “I got you.”

…

“Last one,” Sam said to Dean as he tied off the last stitch in Dean’s arm. “Finished.”

“About dang time,” Dean grumbled, rubbing his arm.

“And if you pull at them, I’m gonna have to do it again,” Sam chided. He turned suddenly when you tugged on his arm. “Yeah?”

You held onto his sleeve with one hand, holding your other one up for him to see. It was now that he noticed your wrist twisted at an odd angle.

“Jeez, kid,” Dean hissed, looking over Sam’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You just shrugged, and Sam shook his head.

“Ok, alright, just keep your arm still, ok?” Sam took your hand in his, putting his other hand on your arm to keep it still. Sam met Dean’s eye for a split second before looking back at you. “Ready? One—“

“Boo!” Dean’s outburst interrupted Sam’s counting, catching your attention just as Sam twisted your wrist back into position.

You let out a sound that was half laugh and half whimper, but it was hardly louder than the sound of the wind outside.

“You ok?” Sam asked softly. You nodded, burrowing into his side while you cradled your wrist.

“You’re a tough kid,” Dean told you, ruffling your hair. You offered him a small smile, but no words.

The boys were used to your quiet nature, so it rarely concerned them. This felt a little different to Sam.

“Hey, you gotta let us know when you’re hurt, ok?”

“I did,” you mumbled. “I just wanted you to fix De up first.”

“Don’t do that,” Dean cut in. “I want you fixed up first, every time.”

But you didn’t answer him, and Sam knew this would be something you and Dean would both be stubborn about.

…

“Sam, take the front with me. Y/N, you can go around the back.”

“You…you want her going alone?” Sam asked.

“There are big windows in the back, it’s brighter. The vampires won’t be back there, she’s going in as backup.” Dean’s eyes met yours. “You up for a little solo trip, kid?”

You hefted your machete and gave Dean a firm nod.

He grinned. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go.”

…

You slipped around the side of the run-down home, surprised to see boards nailed up over the windows in the back. You hesitated, wondering if you should go get Dean—obviously the vampires would be free to roam the back of the house with the windows boarded up—but you decided against it. Dean had given you this task, and you wouldn’t let a few pieces of wood stop you.

…

Dean was surprised at how few vampires he and Sam encountered in the front of the house. They were met instantly by three, and it was quick and easy work lobbing off their heads.

“I thought there’d be more,” Sam admitted. “Do you think—“

The shriek that echoed through the little shack would haunt Dean for the rest of his life. It was so jarring that he froze on the spot, his eyes seeking out Sam’s in the gloom.

“Was that—that was—“ Sam’s voice broke, and he followed his big brother as Dean kicked open the door to the back room and ran in, machete clenched tightly in his fist. The room he’d busted into was empty, and Dean looked frantically around for another door.

“Dean!” The scream was so foreign that for the second time, Dean was struggling to place it as you. Never, on a hunt or during a scary movie or in a fit of anger or—or anything—had Dean heard you yell like that, or at all. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard you speak higher than a soft murmur.

“Dean—“ Sam’s frantic voice snatched Dean’s attention, and he turned to see Sam shoving open a door at the far side of the room. “It came from this way.”

But through the door was a hallway that split two ways, and the brothers could no longer hear your screams to guide their way.

With a simple gesture nod of his chin, Dean relaid a plan to Sam; Dean would go one way, Sam the other.

Dean stalked down the hallway, his heart hammering in his ears and his machete gripped in his sweaty palms. He passed room after room, but there was no sign of you or the vamps.

“Dean!” Unlike when you screamed, Dean recognized Sam’s cry for help immediately. He turned on his heal, dashing for where he last saw his brother.

“Sam!” Dean rounded the corner, but there was no one in sight. “No no no no—“ Dean growled, rushing out the back door into the fresh air. A car was already speeding down the dirt road—the vampires must have braved the sun in order to take their hostages away. Dean rushed around to the front of the house and threw himself into the Impala. The tires crunched on the road as Dean slammed the car into reverse and twisted it around, swerving around the house and following down the dirt road that the vampires had disappeared down with his siblings.

“Cas,” Dean spit out as he drove. “Cas, things are really going bad down here. We could use some backup.”

…

“Sam? Sa-Sammy?”

Sam awoke to a pounding headache and to your quiet voice stuttering his name.

“The big one’s awake!” A grating voice made Sam cringe as he opened his eyes and squinted in the dim light. Course ropes bound his wrists, and he felt hard concrete under him as he shifted until his eyes finally fell on you.

“Sammy?” You were a whimpering mess, curled in on yourself with tears streaming down your face and blood matting your hair to your neck, which was stained red and still bleeding.

“Hey—“ Sam forced himself to sit up, mentally doing a wellness check; it didn’t feel like he’d been bitten, and the only thing that hurt was his head from when one of the cowardly monsters had snuck up behind him and knocked him out. “Hey, are you ok?” He asked you.

“I’m—I’m—“

“Oh she’s fine.” A vampire sauntered over to the two of you, flashing a mouthful of razor sharp teeth that were stained red. “I just had a little snack while you were asleep,” he added, stepping closer to you.

You were cringing away from the monster, your pale body shuddering.

“Get away from her!” Sam snapped.

The vampire ignored Sam, lifting you by the front of your shirt and lowering his head to your neck.

Sam tried to throw himself at the vamp to stop him, but the rest of the nest had come to watch, and one of them grabbed onto Sam to stop him.

“Stop! Leave her alone, don’t hurt her!” Sam could do nothing but protest as the vampire fed off his little sister. For the first time, he noticed the other bite marks on you—more than one vamp had fed on you while he was unconscious. It wasn’t just your neck, either; Sam saw bites all along your shoulder, blood marks on your stomach, and a ripped and bloody mess at your thigh. Sam felt his stomach lurch at the image of half a dozen vampires feeding on you, their fangs ripping up your skin and their monster hands all over you.

He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“You’re gonna kill her!” Sam yelled. When no one paid him any mind, he head butted the vamp that was holding him in place, giving him a moment of freedom that he knew he’d have to use wisely. With his hands tied, his options were limited, so he followed his instincts and threw himself in front of you, knocking the vampire that had been feeding on you to the ground.

It was a good plan—Sam was now able to be between the vampires and you, giving him a moment to reason with them while you weren’t in as much danger.

“Keep her alive and-and you’ll have an unlimited supply,” Sam babbled, grasping for any possible argument to save you. He’d glanced back long enough to see you, ghostly pale and trembling, looking like you barely had life left in you. “But if you take anymore of her blood now you’re gonna kill her.”

The vampire wiped your blood off his chin, a sickening grin on his face.

“That’s all well and fine.” He chuckled. “Except we haven’t eaten in days, so we’re not too worried about conserving our supply.”

“Then—“ Sam swallowed. He could hear your ragged breathing behind him and feel your tiny hand on his arm, tugging at his jacket like you wanted to stop him from what you knew was coming. “Then feed on me. Not her.”

“Sammy.” Your tiny voice cracked as you tugged at your brother’s arm. Sam turned around to face you, effectively blocking you from seeing the vampires behind him.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” he promised, brushing your blood-soaked hair away from your face. “You’re gonna be ok.” He leaned forward, kissing the side of your head so he could whisper— “Dean’s gonna find you, you’re gonna be ok.”

“Don’t—don’t—“ you choked, gripping Sam’s hands in a vice grip.

“I gotta protect you,” Sam said, a smile reaching his lips despite the terror in his eyes as the vampires grabbed onto his shoulders and yanked him away from you. “That’s what big brothers do, kid.”

You tried to go to him, but one of the vampires held you back, tying you to the leg of a desk next to you while the others forced Sam to his knees.

“It’s ok, it’s gonna be ok,” Sam repeated even while he grimaced as a vampire bit into his neck.

You started screaming when Sam’s eyes fluttered closed, the blood draining from his face as he swayed on his knees.

“No! Stop, no!”

…

Once again the harrowing sound of your shrieking froze Dean in his tracks, and even Castiel’s step faltered.

“It—I—this way.” Dean shook off his fear as he led the way towards the sound of your voice.

…

Sam’s head was starting to droop, his breathing labored, when the door swung open, slamming into the wall with a deafening crash.

Dean and Cas burst in, wasting no time in taking out the first vampires that dared to get too close to them.

The vamps nearest to you and Sam forgot you instantly, rushing to attack the two new threats.

They’d been relieved of their heads before they’d gotten one swing into the fight.

Dean rushed to check on Sam, dropping to his knees to untie him while Cas went to you. Once your hands were free, Cas tried to heal the obvious injuries he could see across your skin, but you were dashing away from him before he got the chance.

“Sam!” Your voice echoed around the concrete walls, and the pain and desperation Dean heard in it knocked him back on his heels.

Sam groggily lifted his head just in time to see you running into his arms. You slammed into him, and Sam held you in a death grip to him, rocking you back and forth.

“It’s ok,” he promised. “We’re ok.”

“I love you,” you whispered.

Sam knew right then that he’d rather have to decipher your mumbling for a million people than have to hear you scream in pain and fear again. He knew right then that your quiet whispers were the best sound he’d ever heard.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, words only for your ears.

“I need to heal you,” Castiel spoke up, breaking the two of you apart.

“Sammy first.” Sam barely heard your voice as you made your request to the angel.

“What did you say?” Cas asked. Instead of answering, you tugged at Cas’s hand and pushed it against Sam’s forehead, making Sam grin. Cas’s hand pulsed blue, and color returned to Sam’s face as he took a deep breath and the bite mark at his neck closed up.

“Here.” Sam shrugged his jacket off and wrapped it around you, covering the rips in your clothes before nodding to Cas to heal you. Sam saw Dean clenching his fists, and knew that his older brother had seen the bites covering your body.

“Thanks Cas,” you whispered, and Sam knew at once that Cas hadn’t heard you. Before the angel could ask, though, Sam wrapped you in his arms and mouthed to his friend—thank you.

Cas nodded, and Dean tugged at your arm.

“You ok sweetheart?” He asked. His eyes were wide and his hands were trembling, the adrenaline from hearing your screams not yet worn off.

You nodded, yet again mumbling. But Dean wasn’t impatient now—he just leaned closer and gently asked you to speak again.

“Can we go home now?” You asked. Dean grinned and tugged you into his arms.

“Yeah kiddo,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

Taglist:

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

[choerypetal]

The Curse / Sam and Dean Winchester

summary: Sam and Dean had always harbored feelings for you, but their age gap and fear of losing you kept them from expressing it. It wasn't until a lust curse was cast as payback that their true emotions came to light. (reader is in her mid-twenties and the boys 30)

P.S. I apologize for any grammar errors as English isn't my first language, and this is my first smut. I hope you enjoy it!

xo'

Residing in the Bunker had its own challenges, but sharing the space with two strikingly attractive men, while grappling with an uncontrollable curse, took it to a whole new level. The memory was vivid: against the stern advice of the Winchester brothers, you clandestinely hitched a ride in the Impala's trunk on that fateful hunt, only to find yourself prey to a witch's curse upon stepping out. In an instant, you were ensnared by the curse, your eyes ablaze with desire, cheeks flushed, consumed by a newfound craving you hadn't even known existed—starvation for touch.  

“Oh sweet mother,” Dean’s voice echoed as he saw you. Your eyes always seemed to search for something—or someone, to be precise. The headmistress's witch, with her all-too-familiar wicked laugh, had cast her final spell, a curse she ensured would take effect as soon as she died in Dean’s arms. The monster was indeed dead, but when Dean met Sam’s gaze, he knew the hunt was far from over. 

Your mind, however, was focused elsewhere. The symptoms hadn't appeared yet, but the Winchesters made it clear that back at the bunker, any spell books or the help of Rowena would be useful. “I just hope it’s not,” Dean said, a look on his face prompting Sam to bring him back to reality. Flirtations were not part of the ordeal, especially given how vulnerable you had become. “It’s not contagious, although I wouldn’t mind,” Dean said cockily. Sam rolled his eyes with a ‘really?’ kind of look. Dean shrugged, seemingly oblivious to Sam's attraction to you. But unlike his older brother, Sam had some boundaries, especially right now. 

“We need all the help we can get,” Sam said, trying his best to remain composed. Despite his reluctance, he knew his brother was right. The love curse, though unintended, might have been advantageous for the hunt. You had stubbornly insisted on joining them from the start, and now the little payback didn't seem so bad, did it? Sam thought to himself, watching your eyes glimmer with fascination at everything your eyes gazed upon. He couldn’t help but chuckle, finding it adorable as your soft voice finally caught the attention of both boys. “Um… Guys?” Dean was the first to focus on you, raising an eyebrow. That’s when they both realized: your pouty lips, signaling the symptoms were starting to show. Regardless, the brothers knew they would eventually have to escort you out. 

“Bunker, now.” 

The orders were clear, the drive however. Another story. 

Dean couldn’t help but wonder how you were feeling in that moment. A multitude of questions raced through his mind as he tried not to compare it to anything else. Amidst the tension, Sam ensured you remained still. Despite this, your hips pressed against another, and your hands yearned for touch. When you noticed the rope tied around your wrists, Sam gave you a pitying look. He felt bad, but it was the only solution they could think of. “We are close, love,” he reassured you.

Love. 

"Love? Really?" Dean mouthed to Sam, hoping you neither heard nor noticed. Sam shrugged, genuinely trying his best, though he couldn't deny feeling a bit turned on by the rope. If it weren't for the damn curse. “And you said, ‘no flirting,’” Dean said, almost offended. But his attention quickly shifted when you asked them a question.

“Is something wrong with me?” 

Your voice was soft and innocent as you spoke. “No, sweetheart, we just need to gather some information back at the bunker and get you cleaned up,” Dean replied. It was payback time. Sam’s glare was obvious, while Dean smirked, deliberately emphasizing the word "sweetheart." You of course, had simply nodded in respond. The mood shifted as soon as the Impala parked in front of the bunker.

The three of you entered the bunker, and little did you know, Dean had prayed during the drive for Rowena’s presence. She wore an expression that made both brothers uneasy, knowing they’d have to deal with your current state. “Why don’t you go to your room, Y/N?” Sam suggested with a smile, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Adult talk.” His gesture stirred feelings you hadn’t experienced in a while, making you gulp nervously. Trying to hide your flushed cheeks, you nodded and quickly left for your room. 

"So," Rowena's voice chimed in Dean's ear, a sound he was never fond of, especially when he suspected she had some scheme in mind. Whether her intentions were good or bad, the sound of her smirking lips was unsettling, even without her holding any cards. "Why the urgency, boys?" she asked, leaning against the bunker's table. Her eyes scanned the two men, observing as Sam nervously rubbed the back of his neck and Dean swallowed hard before he could speak. "It's Y/N." 

Rowena gave an 'oh?' kind of look, as if she wasn’t already aware of Dean’s confessional prayer a few hours earlier. She relished the moment, knowing full well that nothing could actually cure your curse. "I am afraid," she teased, her tone making it clear that any attempts—whether spells or exorcisms—would be futile. Dean’s brows furrowed in frustration. "And how do you think she’ll let us? Won’t it, you know, ruin the relationship between the three of us?" 

Sam glare at his brother. “Really?” he almost looked offended. As if his brother was pretending not to overlook, while being clear with the attraction the two Winchesters had toward you. And you being more the secretive type, it wasn’t clear if you were in the same page either. 

Little did the brothers know, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by your own sexual thoughts. The symptoms were beginning to show, and by the time you reached your bed, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to feel your fingers traveling over your body, down between your thighs. Fortunately, with the brothers a few rooms away, you managed to steal Sam’s laptop and sneak into your room. 

The urgency was palpable as you slid under your covers, removing your shorts and leaving yourself in just a shirt and underwear. You knew you had to be quiet. After typing your favorite porn video into the keyboard, quickly grabbing some headphones. As you watched the video intently, you couldn't help but imagine yourself as the girl and the two men as Dean and Sam. 

Sam and Dean knew that once Rowena was finished, they’d have to take action. This led Sam to wonder about the whereabouts of his laptop. "Did you stole my laptop again?" he asked irritably, prompting Dean to retort, "You know me better than that, Sammy. If I’d stolen your laptop, I would have left it there." This was true, given the number of times they had lived together and Sam had found his laptop the next morning with a few porn sites left open. 

"Perhaps I left it in my room," Sam said with a resigned sigh. Little did he know that his laptop was actually in your hands. Hearing faint moans from the opposite room, he couldn’t resist sneaking in. There, he found his laptop next to you, serving as a monitor. Your eyes were closed, your top and covers off, your breasts exposed. "Sam... Dean..." you murmured, making Sam's jaw clench. Dean had been right. 

Dean noticed it was taking longer than expected and, irritated, went to check on his brother. "Sam—" he began, but was immediately cut off. "Shhh... she's..." Sam's whisper was enough to make Dean furrow his brow. As he moved closer to his brother, his eyes darkened. The way you moaned their names was irresistible. The two men exchanged glances, unable to help but ponder the situation, both of them aware of the bulges now evident through their pants. 

As your eyes opened slightly, you felt your cheeks flush at the sight of their silhouettes lingering just beyond the bedroom's threshold. Meeting their gaze, your eyes then glanced down between their legs, silently pleading for something more. With your hand now free, you reached out, beckoning them to enter. "I want more…" The curse had taken its toll, the symptoms ready to manifest, and both brothers instantly agreed. 

Dean was the first to enter, swiftly taking Sam’s laptop and closing it as you knelt down, the palm of your hand gently caressing the obvious bulge in his pants. A smirk played on your lips as you gently unzipped his jeans, while Sam preferred to watch from the corner of your bed. His eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding before him, unable to resist grasping his own dick. Your gaze, filled with lust, shifted between them both, and as Dean's cock revealed itself under his boxers, you couldn’t help but look at it in awe. “Can, I?” 

"It's all yours, princess," Dean's voice was hoarse, his fingers gently caressing your cheek as he lifted your chin slightly to admire your face once more. "Enjoy it," he said, and you nodded with pleasure, leaning in to press a few kisses on the top of the rim. You heard him groan as his hips moved slightly, feeling your tongue around his cock, swirling as you managed to gulp it all the way down. Before releasing it, your fingers gently jerked it off, while your other hand massaged his balls.

Dean's head leaned back, the tension in the room palpably sexual. Before he could reach climax himself, his fingers cupped your face. Your pouty lips drew his attention, and he said, "Need to leave some for Sammy," now seated in the corner of your bed, allowing Sam to shift between the two with innocent eyes, which made you giggle at his reaction. "Come here," you said, now fully focused on Sam.

And there you were, the three of you entangled on the bed. Sam's hips thrusting inside you, the tip of his cock teasing your clit with each motion. His breath was heavy as your eyes locked, leaning in to kiss your lips hungrily. You felt his tongue wrap around yours before he bit your bottom lip. Your eyes rolled back as you realized how big Sam's cock was compared to Dean's. "That's it, baby girl. Gotta take it all before my brother finishes you up," he murmured, urging you on. 

Dean, on the other hand, made sure you were just as occupied and focused. His cock filled your mouth as you managed to stifle your moans from Sam's thrusts. "There, there," he groaned, moving his hips to mirror Sam's movements. Eventually, Sam withdrew from the soreness of your pussy, now so pink. He couldn't bear to leave without planting a few kisses on your clit before leaving Dean to finish you off.

"It's my turn," the older brother declared, giving Sam a playful push, eliciting a chuckle from him as he admired how sore you had become. First, Dean licked his bottom lip, then leaned between your legs, eagerly eating you out. You felt his tongue tracing circles around your clit, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's so small," he teased with a smirk, "just like our baby girl." Sam joined in, barely giving you time to exhale a moan before his dick was in your mouth. "When we say we're not finished, we mean it," he added firmly. 

Dean's cock felt different from Sam's, but despite the soreness in your pussy, the pressure was intensely present. It was thick, reaching deep inside you, almost to your stomach. Your back arched from the constant pleasure, and the brothers made sure your body would be covered with hickeys from head to toe. Sam withdrew from your mouth, leaving you to jerk him off as you said innocently, "I'm about to cum." This was enough for the brothers; Dean also withdrew, teasingly brushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your legs shake from the orgasm. Their cum landed on your stomach. What the three of you didn’t know was that as soon as you came, the symptoms began to fade away. The curse was gone.

"You okay?" Dean asked with concern, noticing you had returned to reality and chuckling softly at your current state, which made the two brothers more worried. Was the curse really gone? Sam looked at his brother, and Dean could only shrug, waiting for your response. "Yes..." you said softly. "And it took a curse to finally..." 

"Finally?" Sam's brow arched as he looked between his brother and you. Before he could say more, you chuckled again. "For us to finally express it." Despite the unusual circumstances, the two brothers couldn't help but smile, chuckling as they both leaned against your bed, scooping you in between them. "So you knew?" Dean asked, almost offended by the efforts he'd made to keep his feelings hidden, fearing it would ruin the friendship. "Told you," Sam said teasingly. "You owe me 50 bucks."

You glared at Sam and smacked his chest before he wrapped his arms around you, sneaking kisses into the crook of your neck. It was his obvious way of making you forget the ordeal. As you rolled your eyes, you said, "I guess curses at least have some benefits." The two brothers rolled their eyes. "Even if I don't like it, I prefer you this way," Dean confessed. Although you appreciated the sentiment, you couldn't help but tease in response.

“Say mister flirt,” 

Dean, almost offended, attacked you with kisses, making you laugh. "Ours," he said with a proud smirk. You returned his smile and kissed his cheek.

"All yours," you replied warmly.

[jasmines-library]

Just One Big Headache

WHUMPTOBER 2023: Day one, prompt "How many fingers am I holding up?" FANDOM: Supernatural Summary: A routine salt 'n' burn takes a nasty turn when the spirit directs its anger towards you, leaving you with a nasty concussion, but not to worry, the Winchesters are there to look after you. Warnings: Head injury, concussion, loss of consciousness, violence, weapons, broken ribs. Word count: 1.8k Author Note: Aaaaaand its off! Welcome to jedi-archives whumptober 2023! I promise i'm going to try my best to get these out everyday but i can't make any promises. My prompts are coming from a mixture of the official @whumptober prompts and my own. I'm starting off with something slightly fluffy to ease us in. With that said, happy whumping!

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

'it's just a salt 'n' burn' they said. 'it'll be fun' they said. Oh boy were they wrong. 

The air was crisp as you stepped out of the Impala. You watched as the little clouds of air rose before your face, illuminated by the street lamps which flickered haphazardly. Tugging your jacket closer to your body you made your way around to the back of the car, following the crunch of Sam’s shoes as he walked across the frosted grass. Dean propped open the trunk and made quick work of loading rock salt into his rifle and ensuring that there were enough matches inside his pack. The other Winchester hauled the shovel from the car and leaned it against his shoulder; it was hefty and made with iron, caked in mud and rust. The pistol that you shifted between your hands was so familiar, like an extension of your body. It fit snugly in your grip. Flicking the chamber open with a metallic click, you made sure it was fully loaded before snapping off the safety and slipping it in a holster on your belt. 

The grass was damp from the frost that had settled on the grass in the graveyard. It had managed to claw its way up the gravestones and trees like fingers too. It seeped uncomfortably through the toes of your boots as you trudged towards the grave. Small and unkept, it sat located towards the west side of the gravesite. It belonged to a young woman who was brutally murdered a few years ago, but who’s case ran cold. It was safe to say that she was pissed; her revenge taking the form of hunting down those who were associated with the woman who killed her. But what started out as unfinished business soon turned cold and twisted as she turned to others who had wronged. Her grave stood out on the line of tall, pearly stones with dainty flowers laying at their feet. It was dark and clad with weeds. Unloved.  

Dean’s duffel landed with a thud next to the grave, unsettling the ground around it. The shovel went down next to it. 

“Alrighty.” He said, rubbing his hands together. “You know the drill.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but brought out his hands in front of him anyway. “Seriously dude, I don’t even know why we bother anymore.”

“It’s a game of chance, Sammy. Now shoot.”

After the count of three, you and Sam shaped your hands into a fist and brought them forwards. You smirked. Dean had played scissors. With a groan, he pulled his hand back and reeled his body away. 

You laughed. “Scissors everytime, Dean.”

The eldest Winchester grumbled something underneath his breath, but picked up the shovel and begrudgingly began to dig until the shovel hit something solid, you and Sam kept your eyes peeled for any sign of the spirit. 

“Okay. This is it.” he confirmed, hauling up the lid of the coffin. It creaked open on unsteady hinges. The corpse beneath still had skin attached to its discoloured bones. It pooled loosely around the woman's frame. The putrid smell that emerged would have made you gag had you not already had your fair share of salt ‘n’ burns. “Keep an eye out for that son of a bitch.”

Sam lent a hand to haul his brother out of the newly dug pit. From where you were standing, a few feet away, you could see the top of his hair poking out from the top of the opening. Almost mechanically, the brothers began to tip the gasolene and sprinkle the salt onto the body. 

The deathly howl that suddenly emerged in front of you snapped you awake. The spirit raced towards the Winchesters, gritting her teeth and scowling. Her vacant eyes narrowed at them as she got closer, but your fingers were on the trigger before you could blink, sending her away with a shrill cry and a cloud of grey. 

“Hurry.” You told your friends, who had moved from preparing the body to the old duffel on the ground. Dean rummaged around desperately on his knees, not caring about the cold, until he felt the familiar grit of the matchbox against his fingers. Tugging it out, he ran back to the body. Sam tugged the shotgun tighter to him and positioned it in front of himself. The two of you danced around, keeping your eyes peeled for the ghost.

The spirit appeared behind you this time, wailing like a banshee. Sam shot it in the chest before it howled shrilly and disappeared. 

“Dean! Hurry up!” You cried as it reappered again. He was busy fumbling with the matches, which refused to light on the cold box. He pushed too hard against the cardboard and felt the stick snap and splinter. He cursed loudly. 

“I’m trying!” He huffed back through gritted teeth. 

All it took was that one look over your shoulder to Dean for the spirit to catch you off guard. Sam’s shout of your name was a second too late as a ghost appeared behind you, wrapping its cold, bony fingers around you and flinging you away. You cried out in pain as your head collided with one of the neighbouring gravestones and your body slid to the floor. 

“Dean!” Sam yelled out for his brother, firing his weapon at the creature and sending it dissipating to somewhere else on the property. 

The match slipped between Dean’s fingers, twisting in his grip as he tried to create friction between the two objects. Time seemed to stop as Sam raced towards your side to be cut off by the woman re-emerging in his path. That was when the match tumbled from his brother’s grasp, landing on the heap of chemicals and starting the chain reaction of events. 

The woman reeled back as she burst into flames like a candle. The sound she made was dreadful, it cut right through you as she writhed on her feet. When she finally finished her onslaught of screaming and her bones were no more than a dismal pile of ash, Sam fell to his knees in front of you, cupping your head in his hands. It lolled to the side, unable to hold itself up against the throbbing pain in your skull. Sam was suddenly aware of the blood that trickled from your temple and coaxed his fingers, crying out again for his brother, he gave your face a gentle tap. Your eyes fluttered beneath heavy lids.

“Hey, Hey. Kid. Stay with me.” He pleaded, searching your face. “Open your eyes Y/N, come on.”

Your eyelids felt like they were made of lead. Your head felt hazy as you peeled them open, watching Sam swim before you. 

“That's it! Keep them open Y/N.”

Dean was to your left, his hands roaming your body for any other injuries. You whimpered when his fingers flushed against your tender skin on your upper back. You were sure you had a broken rib. Or three. 

“I know. I know sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

Sam’s face was close to yours as he tilted it upwards. He saw the way that your pupils were dilated; one the size of the fucking moon, the other lagging behind. 

“Shit. Dean?”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Dean prompted, “Can you stand?”

He moved to position himself under your arm, wrapping it around his neck. Sam’s arm weaved around your waist and the two of them hauled you to your feet. The movement made you want to hurl and you cried out as the pressure in your head and ribs increased tenfold.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, You’re okay.”

Your movements were sluggish as you floated towards the car. your vision doubled and you were now struggling to differentiate left and right. Your legs trembled in your fogginess, you seemed to lose all control of your limbs, relying heavily on the arms wrapped around you to aid you back to the Impala. It was when your vision blurred and your legs completely folded beneath you like a crushed can that Sam scooped you up into his arms. He cringed at your noise of discomfort, but raced behind his brother to the old car which was parallel parked across the street. 

“We’re nearly there kiddo,” He hushed. “Just keep those pretty eyes open for me, okay?”

You tried to keep them open. You really did, but it just became too much. Your body became slack in Sam’s arms as you gave into unconsciousness. 

~

The light was too bright when you peeled your eyes open again. You were back in the bunker, propped up on pillows in your bed. Your whine alerted Dean to your awareness. His hand, which was clutching yours, moved to wave in front of your eyes.

“Y/N? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Sam rolled his eyes, swatting his hands away. He saw the way you squinted painfully against the light and moved to the switch on the other side of the room to dim it, before promptly coming to perch on the edge of your bed. . Satisfied, you hummed and scanned the room, eyes landing on the two worried Winchesters who loitered in your room. They breathed a visible sign of relief when they saw your eyes focus on theirs. Your ribs still stung, and the throbbing in your head was still present. You reached up and trailed your fingers across your temple. The skin had been cleaned there, the dried blood no longer glued to your face. You could still feel it in your hair where Sam hadn’t quite managed to get it all out. The skin was rough and had begun to scab over. A pair of hands wrapped around your wrist and pulled your fingers away. 

“Don’t touch.” Sam said tenderly, handing you a glass and a handful of painkillers. The glass was cool against your lips as you swallowed them thickly. “It should heal on its own. It didn’t need stitches.”

 You blinked groggily. “What happened?”

“Ghost got you good.” Dean told you. “You have two broken ribs and a concussion.”

“And the ghost?” you asked.

“Taken care of.”

Nodding slowly, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

“I-” Dean stuttered. “You had us worried Y/N”

“I'm sorry.”

Sam shook his head firmly. “Not your fault.”

“But-”

“Nope. Not hearing it.” He said sternly.

You sighed. “So, what's the damage, Dr Winchester?”

The youngest brother chuckled at the remark, glad to see that you were feeling more of yourself. “You are going to stay in bed and rest for a few days. We are going to stay here and look after you.” he told you before you rolled your eyes at the idea of being bed bound. 

“I suppose I could do that.” You shrugged, not opposed to the idea of having the Winchesters as your personal waiters for the next few days.

“I thought you’d be happy.” Dean shook his head, then gestured to the covers and the tv which was mounted on the wall. “Room for two more?”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

DAY TWO

🏷️ Whumptober Taglist

[arjwrites]

— Heuheueheuehueeheu OK! Good to know that bc i love angst and """"dark themes""""!! And well, now I have two request ideas with Winchester!reader ☝️ I was thinking that just asking for Castiel might end up tiring for you so ONE (1) of them do not include him (this one)

Could you write a Sam&Dean x Older sister Winchester!reader angst where the reader (16) has just returned rlly injured from a hunt with her father to the point where she almost died and John is angry because she is weak while Sam(10) and Dean (14) try to help her???? She's like “I'm fine” while she's fckin bleeding on the floor 😭 — 👼 angel anon (I SIMPLY LOVE YHIS NICKNAME 🥹)

You're Not Weak - Young!Sam + Dean Winchester x Older Sister!Reader

Summary: Your little brothers are always there for you after a hunt with your father goes south.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: John Winchester-induced angst. Slight references to abuse. Fem!Reader

A/N: HI ANGEL ANON! This request has been sitting in my inbox a while, I am so sorry it took so long to get out to you! This was something new for me- I've never written young Sam and Dean so I can't decide if I'm totally happy with this. I really hope you enjoy it!

It was torture. The road in front of you stretched long and dark. Quiet hung heavy in the air since neither of you had the words to speak- John out of anger, and you out of fear. Every so often, when the car would pass under a streetlight, you would peek over to your father in the driver’s seat. The lamps would illuminate his profile just enough for you to catch the outline of his expression. Each time, it grew the pit in your stomach until you felt like you were going to cave in on yourself and disappear. At this point, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed. 

It would’ve been one thing if he had yelled at you, screamed at you, told you all the things you did wrong and all the ways that you could be better. But he didn’t. He was so silent on the drive back to the motel- the kind of silent that teetered on the precipice of something you were all too familiar with. And all the blood pouring out of your cut didn’t help the worry. You were starting to feel delirious but you dared not bring it up. John already knew you were hurt- he had watched the creature throw you to the ground and slash at your side, waiting in the background for you to handle it yourself. You- 16, a fairly new hunter, his daughter. 

“Where were you?” You had cried after he came to your rescue.

“I thought you could handle it. Turns out, you couldn’t.” 

John had broken the silence of the ride a few times, muttering things under his breath. You could make out a few things here and there- can’t trust… ridiculous… weak. But for the most part, silence prevailed the entire car ride. He didn’t even say a word when you pulled into the motel parking lot, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him. You scrambled out of your own door, grabbing your things from the trunk and limping in behind the man, following him through the threshold into the room where Sam and Dean sat side by side on the couch.

“How’d it go? Did you get it?” Dean rose from his seat, always eager to hear about your hunts. He couldn’t ever stand staying behind. John snatched the now unloaded shotgun out of your hand and tossed at Dean, catching him off guard. He fumbled for a moment before gripping it across his chest like a soldier at attention. 

“Barely. You’re coming with me next time, Dean. Your sister can’t seem to handle herself and it’s gonna get us all killed. She can stay behind and babysit.” His tone was spiteful and dark. You knew there was something bubbling right below the surface- you and Dean shared a knowing look and a silent prayer that it wouldn’t boil over. John turned and stormed back out the front door you had just entered from. At the sound of the door’s slam, Sam’s head whipped towards you, attention now pulled from the TV show he had been engrossed in. 

You weren’t going to cry in front of your brothers. This whole ordeal had been embarrassing enough already, and you already felt weak without falling apart in front of them. You had to put on a brave face for them. It was your job to protect them, to provide a buffer between them and your father- to absorb the abuse so the two young boys wouldn’t ever have to face the aftershock. It was hard enough looking into Dean’s eyes- Dean, who understood, who knew it was now his turn to fall victim to the same fate. But when Sam- poor, innocent Sammy- trotted over from the couch asking if you were okay, a sob ripped from your lips. The impact of the sound escaping caused you to double over in pain, irritating the cut down your left side. Your brothers rushed to you in an instant, taking you by the arms to help lead you over to the bed. 

“I’m okay, it’s fine,” you protested, in a desperate attempt to save face.

But Sam and Dean didn’t listen. You hated when they had to see you like this, the poor kids patching up the damage that should have been yours alone to deal with. But by the way they stood, staring at you in earnest, you knew there would be no telling them no.  

“Dean, can you just grab me something to stop this blood?” You asked, which sent the boy running across the room and to scramble together a few things you may need. Dean’s worry for you was practical, methodical. He was quick to grab the first aid kit to help you stop the bleeding and patch back up. Watching him through the blurred vision of your tears, you thought to yourself how effectively John had trained Dean, and how great of a hunter he was going to be. It made your stomach churn. Sam, on the other hand, clung close to you. He snuggled into your good side and you wrapped an arm around his small frame. Sam’s care for you was sweet and innocent. You closed your eyes and prayed that Sam would never wind up a part of this life. That he would never feel the burn of stitching up his own wound, or the sting of your father’s hateful words.

With Sam still nestled into you, giving you a surge of comfort, Dean sat with the first aid packet, already reaching to run a disinfectant across the cut. 

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled, without pausing his task. 

“S’okay. Here, I got it,” you replied, reaching to grab the supplies from Dean, who pulled them out of your grasp.

“Relax. You’re pretty hurt, I’ll do it.”

“Dad already thinks I’m weak enough. If he walks back in here to see me letting you play nurse, I think he’ll disown me.”

“You aren’t weak,” Sam’s small voice spoke up. He looked up to you with wide eyes and continued. “You’re our big sister, you’re not weak at all.” You pushed the hair out of Sam’s eyes, ruffling it into the top of his head. 

“Thanks, Sammy,” you offered back with a smile. You were happy to have your brothers to come back to in these tough times. They each had their unique ways of being there for you, but you appreciated them both endlessly. You silently wished it could be like this forever. As much as you hated hunting with your father, it was better this way because it meant your brothers would be safe, that they would be there to help patch you up and lift your spirits when you were down.   

So there you sat with your younger brothers. Dean worked on cleaning and bandaging your injuries, while Sam told you stories all about what he was learning at school or what was happening in his favorite TV shows. The three of you sat, laughed, chatted, and everything felt like it was okay again. A while passed, and Dean’s work was long finished, but you all lingered, sat side by side by side on your bed. When the conversation finally lulled, you spoke.

“It’s late Sammy, you should get to bed.” Sam pouted in response but trudged across the room, tucking himself into the pull-out bed Dean had made for him earlier. You marveled at how it never took Sam long to fall asleep- you hoped it would stay that way, that the horrors of the world would never keep him up at night.

After Sam had gone to bed, you and Dean sat in silence, apart from the occasional pained expletives that spilled from your lips when you would shift in your seat combined with the concern that came from Dean’s. When you were sure the youngest boy had fallen asleep, Dean spoke. 

“He’s right, you know. Sammy, I mean. You aren’t weak.” 

“I fucked it up Dean, I almost got us killed.”

“You’re a good hunter. Don’t let Dad talk to you like that. Don’t let him make you feel like you’re not good enough.”

“Well, looks like I don’t have a choice. It’s your turn now,” you said with a humorless laugh. It hurt your heart to think that Dean, your kid brother, would be taking your place. But your father had been training him for years, and in a way, you knew this was coming. The second Dean was old enough, you knew the man would toss you aside in favor of your younger brother. John was always critical of you. No matter what you did, you were never good enough. To him, you were just a fill-in for Dean until he was able to step into the role himself. You knew Dean would be good at hunting- hell, he’d probably be a lot better than you. But the combination of rejection by your father and fear for your little brother weighed on your heart.

“Just be careful, Dean, okay? It’s… scary out there sometimes. You need to look out for yourself.” 

“I know. It’s what I’ve been training for. I’ll be okay.” Dean’s response was tender to match your concern, but it was also laced with a sense of pride. Dean was excited to hunt. It was as if he was stepping into a destiny he had been working towards his whole life. The familiar pit in your stomach began to grow. 

“We should get some sleep,” Dean decided. He rose, packing the first aid supplies back into the duffle bag that sat slumped by the bed. You struggled to your feet, drawing in a sharp breath, before ambling across the room to your own bed. Dean called your name.

“Yeah?” 

“Maybe it’s a good thing Dad doesn’t want you to hunt with him anymore… You deserve better than this. Than Dad. I… just want you to be happy.” The tears welled back in your eyes, but Dean continued. “Sam and I look up to you a lot. Just don’t think badly about yourself, okay? Sam will be happy to have you around.”

Throwing Dean a thankful smile, you tucked yourself into bed. Tomorrow weighed heavy on your mind- it meant dealing with your injuries, facing your father, and watching your younger brother head out on his first hunt. But tonight, you let your whole body relax. For now, you and your brothers were safe and sound. And that would have to be enough.

[beanzwrites]

since you write for spn, what about something where the reader is Sam and Dean's little sister and yk when in season 2 they go to the Roadhouse- well, maybe She meets Ash and she gets a crush on him and when they go to the Roadhouse She always stay with him? And maybe they also notice that she has Ash's ring (yeah in my mind he wears a ring with the scrabble's A) and they're like, teasing her, expecially Dean, saying things like 'oh, why don't you come ti the Roadhouse with us? We're pretty sure there's someone waiting for you' and it's just fluff with Ash? Thank you so much, even if you don't write it :3

"Your Frog Prince is Waiting~"

A/n: Thank you so much for the request; it's my very first one! I hope you enjoy! I'm not used to writing Ash, so I apologize if he seems a bit out of character; I tried my best.

Dean x Sister! reader x Sam, Ash x reader

Warnings: Cursing, potential cringe pet names, teenage crush

Description: As the Winchesters spend more time at the Roadhouse, the youngest gains a little crush on one of the residents. 😊

Latin Translation: mnemosynum (Keepsake)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The inside of the saloon was quiet as Dean shuts the creaking front door. All of the lights were off besides a sparking LED light hanging behind the bar. The place was grim, the sun casting through the ragged curtains seeming to be the only bright thing in the place.

(Y/n) stays close to her brothers as they venture deeper inside, only to bump into Sam as he stops suddenly. Her older brother barely spares her a glance, his attention caught on the boy laying across a pool table a few feet away.

"Oh god... is he dead?" She murmurs, eying him with slight trepidation. Sam shrugs in response.

"Hey, Buddy?" Sam calls out, taking a step forward. No response. "I'm guessing that isn't Ellen."

"You think?" (Y/n) snaps, observing the backside of the stranger. Sam snorts in response, before heading towards the back. "Sammy? Sammy, where are you going?"

"Stick beside me, squirt." Dean's voice says lowly, "We don't really know what's going on here."

(Y/n) turns to him to make a sarcastic response, but pales as she sees a woman press a gun to his back. "Dean..."

"Oh god, please let that be a rifle..."

"No, I'm just real happy to see you," the woman responds, cocking the gun.

(Y/n) took a step forward, only for the woman to dig the head of the gun deeper into Dean's back. "Don't move, or I'll shoot his spine out."

"Don't move -- copy that," (Y/n) repeats, making eye contact with her brother with a dry swallow.

"You should know something, miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't want to put it right against their back, 'cause it makes it real easy to do..." Dean rambles before turning around swiftly and stealing the rifle away from the woman's grip.

Before Dean can stand his ground fully, the woman throws a full punch at his face, causing him to stagger as she pulls the gun back to her.

"Sammy-" (Y/n) calls in alarm.

"Sorry..." Sam states as he comes back out with his hands over his head, "Can't help right now, I'm a little tied up."

The older woman who has Sam hostage eyes the two men for a moment before glancing at the young girl standing with a distressed look on her face. "Winchesters?"

"Yeah," both (Y/n)'s brothers say in unison.

"Son of a bitch," she laughs, putting her revolver in her back pocket. "Hey, I'm Ellen. That's my daughter, Jo."

---

"He didn't send you..." Ellen pauses, a look of sadness washing over her expression. Neither (Y/n) or her brothers responded as each of them look away from her. The pain of losing their father is still fresh in their heart. "He's alright, isn't he?"

No," Sam finally states with a sigh, "he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um... it just got him before he got it, I guess."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. We're all right," Dean says.

"Really, I know how close you and your Dad-"

"Really, Lady, I'm fine," Dean interjects with a stern look. (Y/n) gently places her hand on his thigh before looking at Ellen with the shake of her head.

"So, look, if you can help..." Sam announces, trying to change the subject, "We could use all the help we can get."

"Well, We can't," Ellen replies, "but Ash will."

"Who's Ash?" (Y/n) questions.

Ellen snorts before yelling out the name. As a response, the guy from before swiftly gets up with a groan. Balls fly from the table as he looks around to where his name was being called, his long hair flipping back and forth erratically.

"What?" Ash's voice booms, looking over at the group huddled by the bar, "closing time?"

---

"You got to be kidding me. This guy's no genius," Dean grumbles, "He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd Roadie!"

"Dean, give him a chance." (Y/n) grumbles out, kicking him slightly in the leg. Ash cheekily smiles and Dean rolls his eyes.

"Alright. Well, this stuff's about a year's worth of out dad's work," Dean shares as he sits down, "Let's see what you make of it."

Ash looks over the papers that Dean slid over, and scowls. "Come on, this crap ain't real. Ain't nobody can track a demon like this."

"How do you know?" (Y/n) questions, "Our dad was really good at it."

"Well, sweet cheeks. These are nonparametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations. I mean... damn. They're signs, omens. If you can track them, you can track this demon- You know, like crop failures, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning?" (Y/n) shakes her head in response as he looks at her, "It ain't fun."

"Can you track it or not?" Sam asks, giving Ash the stink eye.

"Yeah, with this, I think so."

"Really? How long?" (Y/n) questions with the quirk of her brow.

"It's gonna take time. Give me, 51 hours."

"You can really track down a demon in the span of over two days? I gotta say, that's impressive."

"Oh, you'll be impressed." Ash says with a smirk, "It'll be just like fine wine."

(Y/n) didn't say anything as her face flushes.

---

"That kid's hair was something else," Dean chuckles out as they go back to Bobby's car. "Looked more like a rat's nest to me."

"I don't know, I kinda liked it," (Y/n) responds with a small smile.

"Liked it?" Dean speaks, whipping his head around, "You mean to tell me you'd get your hair cut that way too?"

"No! What I meant is, it suited him. Not everyone could pull it off," (Y/n) speaks, climbing into the back of the van.

"Yeah, if you call that a suited haircut..."

"Do you really think he'll be able to track Dad's demon in 51 hours?" Sam asks, looking out the passenger side window.

"Psh, my bet is no. Dad spent his entire hunting career looking for that thing. There is no way a kid who sleeps on a pool table can top that!"

"I say he will," (Y/n) replies matter-of-factly.

"What makes you say that?"

"I just got a good feeling about him, is all."

---

"Did you find the demon?" Sam's breath tickles the back of (Y/n)'s head as he leans over her. Ash sets his computer down, casually placing his arm beside hers as he types away.

"It's nowhere around, at least nowhere I can find. If this fugly bastard raises its head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like divine on dog dookie."

"You can really be alerted right away?" (Y/n) asks with awe.

"Any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off like a fire alarm."

"That's amazing..."

"Where did you learn to do all this?" Sam gasps in amazement.

"M.I.T., before I got bounced for fighting." Ash explains with a somewhat embarrassed look on his face.

"What was the fighting about?" (Y/n) responds, amusement crossing over her face.

Ash looks over at her with amusement of his own, "Wouldn't you like to know, sugar cube."

"Okay!" Dean says as he gets up from the table, "Give us a call as soon as you know something?"

"Si, si, compadre."

(Y/n) gets up from her seat, going to head after her brothers who already made their way back to the front, before being stopped by Ash.

"Hey, sugar cube. I wanna give ya somethin' before you hit the road," Ash says, as he leans against one of the chairs.

"Oh? And what's that?" (Y/n) replies with a flirtatious simper.

"Give me your hand," Ash says simply, "and you'll get your big surprise."

"Okay..." (Y/n) chuckles, reaching her arm out. Ash grabs at her wrist softly, eyeing each one of her fingers before placing something cool to the touch over her middle finger.

"mnemosynum," Ash announces with a bow, granting her access to what he put on her. A bulk piece of metal clung to her slim finger; the initial A engraved in it. "Until we meet again."

"Why?" (Y/n) asks. It's not that she didn't like it; it was quite charming. She was just slightly confused on why she got the gift in the first place.

"I have a good feeling about you, sweet cheeks. I think we are going to be tight these next couple months," Ash announces, "You can keep that, by the way."

"Thanks... You know, I can say the same thing for you."

"Is that so?"

"It's so."

---

"Come on, kiddo. We gotta get going," Dean says as he grabs his keys from the top of the motel's mini fridge.

"Why's that?" (Y/n) responds, not looking up from her book. "I thought you and Sammy were just going to the town over."

"We need some info," Dean pauses as he checks out the ring on his sister's finger, "and I'm sure your roadkill boyfriend would love to see you."

"He's not roadkill, Dean!" (Y/n) shouts, slamming her book shut. "And he's not my boyfriend!"

"Sure, and you aren't red as a tomato right now," Dean smirks. "Seriously though, we gotta go, so... get to moving, princess. Your frog prince is waiting~"

[lovelywriting666]

Strawberry Cream Cheese

Pairing(s): Sam Winchester x little sister!reader, Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, lil cameo of Claire Novak x reader (platonic)

synopsis: A day in the bunker with the boys

a/n: Girly reader, younger but like teenager age, takes place in no specific season, but like they all have up to date phones and stuff like that. Also this is a WIP and not proof read at all lolz <3

warnings: None

Hope you enjoy! :D

You were laying in bed listening to music, like classic lady gaga, Government Hooker, Americano, and Judas, while scrolling on your phone when you hear a knock on your door.

"Yeah?" You ask which is an invitation for the person on the other side of the door, presumably your brother, to open it. To no one's shock or surprise it's Dean.

"Hey kid, Sam's making breakfast do you want any?" He asks, his voice still laced with sleep, he probably just woke up.

You fell into the habit of getting up when Sam did so you could get ready for school, Sam was your personal alarm clock on school days and Dean was your personal chauffeur because Dean never trusted those school buses. But that's beside the point, you were used to waking up at the crack of dawn so you've been up for a while.

"Yeah, uh, just a begal and strawberry cream cheese" You respond as you pull yourself out of bed and stretch a bit.

Dean nods, "Alright kid, also change that music put on some good shit not this-" you cut Dean off with "Whatever old man" and Dean lets out and airy laugh and closes the door probably heading back to the kitchen where Sam was.

...

Once you put on something for the day you pause your music. Slide your phone into one of your pockets and head out into the hallway and to the kitchen. Sam was over the stove probably cooking eggs for himself and Dean, the toaster on and Dean with his head in the fridge.

You walk over to the kitchen table and sit down, you leg your legs across the bench and pull out your phone and you get a text from Claire.

Claire : Morning, going on a hunt, just wanted to let you know

You : Good Morning, have fun on the hunt!

Claire : Will do nerd

You : Knuckle Head

A plate clatters onto the table and you put your phone away and its your toasted bagel that Sam places in front of you and Dean sits across from you putting two plates down, one in front of him and one next to him. You gran the strawberry cream cheese container and open to find no cream cheese and you frown.

"What's wrong Bami?" Sam says kinda jokingly, it's the nickname Crowley gave you when you first met him with the brothers, it wasn't your proudest moment because you tripped in front of him, hence the nickname.

"We're out of Strawberry cream cheese" You say with a small huff and take a bite of your dry but good bagel.

"Damn, I think that calls for a food restock" Sam says, Dean and I agree.

Sam gets up from the table and grabs a notepad and pen from the junk drawer and walks back over to the table and sits down. He tosses me the notepad and pen, I scribble down food we need and other stuff while I eat. Once I think it's good I click the pen closed and Dean grabs the notepad off of the table and I continue eating.

"Nope, not buying *snack food* for you again" Dean said looking at the list.

"That was one time Dean! Plus you put it in the back of the cabinets, me and object permanence don't mix!" You sam with a huff and cross your arms.

"Fine, we'll get it but actually eat it this time" Dean says handing the list to Sam, you smirk getting up from the table and put your dishes in the sink. You hear Sam write down some things.

"Alright we'll let Dean finish eating breakfast, I'll wash the dishes and then we can head out" Sam say with a smile, I nod and head to the 'Dean Cave' because it has a bigger tv then in my room.

...

After a while you get a text from Sam.

Sam : Come on kid, we're heading out

You get up from the small love seat you were relaxing on and head to the main area. Sam and Dean were at the 'mission' table.

Sam was on his laptop and Dean was scrolling on his phone. Sam notices you first and shuts his laptop which makes Dean look up from his phone. Sam gets up from the table, Dean puts his phone in his pocket and pulls his keys out of his other pocket and jingle's them.

"Are lets get goin you two" Dean says with a smirk. You and Sam nod and follow Dean out to the garage and all pile into the Impala. You in the backseat, Sam and Dean in the front.

[theoldwest]

hunter’s camera roll 🌿 pt 1

images you’ve snapped while riding and hunting alongside the winchesters

(I don’t own these images:-))

[fandom-is-my-game]

Just Imagine...

Creaking slam of the iron door. Alarms wailing while power surges rhythmically. Beating as though the bunker is itself alive.

"This must be him," Loki calls down from over the railing. "Is there a location?"

"His presence is not exactly ethereal," you retort, "or subtle. I do not believe this is wired to register a time split," though you continue to scour the map. Loki is now across the table, hands braced on the edge, brow furrowed in concentration.

"What is that?" Sam shouts, wincing against the noise as he enters from the hallway.

"Sorry," you say absentmindedly as you wave your hand to turn off the alarm, though power continues to surge.

"Darling, we may need to--" Loki starts, unsure, but at your confidence, falters.

"I found him." You close your eyes, tensing. Your mind reaching for the small tether of such a large existence.

Sam stares, not knowing what is occurring. Loki now stands under the iron stairs, arms crossed bracing for anything.

Papers swirl. Electronics scream and brighten. Suddenly all is still and relatively normal except for the man standing to Sam's left. Sam starts, in a defensive stance as Dean also joins from the hallway holding a shotgun.

"No, he's alright. It's the Doctor," you say quickly.

"Hm, must be, wearing that outfit," Dean says ironically, while lowering his weapon. "Looks like he rolled off the set of Dead Poets Social."

"Society," Sam adds briefly.

"He's a what now?" Dean says thickly.

"Dead Poets Society," Sam clarifies to Dean's bewildered face. "Nevermind."

You shake your head with a smile, now turning to address the newcomer. Loki is already approaching, gripping the Doctor's shoulder warmly.

"Why did you lie?" you ask shortly. "I was going to find you."

"I cannot recall. It has been many centuries for me--" But your annoyed handwave makes him stop. This face, this new incarnation wants to hide. Young and seemingly jovial.

(…so this is your new ruse…)

After a sigh, "I was dying…or so I thought," the Doctor explains. "I could not put you through the loss I always endure. I know the hole it leaves."

"No," you reply simply, "you know you cannot die. You are doing this for you. Leaving everything you still have behind. You cannot restart every time!"

All the loss he just endured, and his aim was to shut out all the others that understand what he goes through. Yourself, Loki, Cas, Kisuke; the Doctor never wants to burden any of them, instead packaging a new internal resilience each time. Until we all bump into him some day in the future.

"Avoidance does not need to be part of your grieving," you say patiently. "We all have endured loss. Sometimes the same people numerous times. Still hurts just the same."

"I know," he says, hanging his head, relieved yet ashamed, "I know." He strides towards you for an embrace. A new chapter has started, but the same story still spins.

[sweethxart222]

Parings: Sam Winchester x sister!reader, Dean Winchester x sister!reader

Warnings: reader's death, wound and blood, basically angst

Word count: 276

A/n: first fic for supernatural! I just started it and I couldn't help writing for that:3

"S-sammy..."

She said, trying to breathe properly.

Her lungs were burning, she felt her heart beating so fast and so loud that she was sure her brother could hear it.

Her shaky hand gripped on his arm, warm tears running down her cheeks and staining them with her now messed up mascara.

"Where's Dean?"

She asked.

Sam couldn't stop the bleeding, the wound on her side too deep.

"He... He'll be back in a minute he... He was fighting t-"

She interrupts him.

"I... I need him..."

She says, crying harder.

It hurted like hell, and she just wanted her brothers, the only family she had, by her side.

"I hope... I hope death will be... Like when I was a kid and he would pick me up and take me to bed because I fell asleep in the car"

She says, holding on Sam.

She buries her head on the crook of his neck, closing her eyes.

She was exhausted, she just wanted to sleep.

The sounds arond her became muffled, and she didn't even hear Dean arrive until she felt him wrap his arms around her in a warm hug.

"I hope it's gonna be..."

She tries to say, but her voice is starting to become weak.

"Like when you fell asleep in Baby and I would pick you up and take to bed"

He says,a soft smile on his lips despite the tears in his eyes,brushing her hair out of her face, looking at her.

"I hope I'll hear you and Sammy laugh"

She whispered, smiling back and closing her eyes for the last time.

[chubbyreaderchan]

I'm rewatching Supernatural and I hope to finish it this watch through but I was thinking about Sam or Dean with a reader who is a child of a hunter and lived a similar life to the boys but was chronically ill their whole life and doesn't really do the labor parts of hunting but is like a human encyclopedia of weird because they have been reading about it since they could read.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

The Safest Place

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

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

Warnings: none, it’s short and sweet

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

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

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

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

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

“Get some sleep, kiddo.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Demons are scary, Sammy,” you whimpered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were asleep in minutes.

Taglist:

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

[saintfaux]

[colmiillo]

When y/n does something so cringe that i have to look at the invisible camera for a sec.

[connorsui]

He stood outside the courthouse, using the building’s reflective glass as a makeshift mirror. He adjusted the tie she’d picked out for him that morning, tugging it loose and then tightening it again until it sat just right. His free hand ran through his hair, smoothing the strands she’d ruffled when she kissed him goodbye with a sly smirk. The faint scent of her perfume clung to his shirt, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Man, your wife is insane,” an officer muttered as he walked past, throwing him a glance.

Without missing a beat, he chuckled, straightening his collar. “Yeah, no shit. Why do you think I married her?” He shot the officer a grin through the reflection, adjusting his cufflinks like this was just another day in his life. “I’m literally on my way to her trial right now, carrying her favorite cookies and wearing the shirt she insisted on. Hell, I’ve even got her eyeliner in this bag because, and I quote, she wants to look stunning for the pictures.”

He gave himself one last look in the glass, smoothing the fabric of his shirt, before turning to the officer. “And when this is all over, I’ll be paying her bail. Not because I have to—because I want to. She’ll come out, probably ask for a shopping spree or some fancy dinner, and you know what? I’ll give it to her. Every last bit.”

His voice softened as he glanced down at the cookies in his hand, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “Because she’s my wife. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

that reality check hitting after reading smut

[flow33didontsmoke]

when y/n does something so bad/embarrassing you have to facepalm and close your eyes for a minute