#winchester!sister

[jasmines-library]

‘Tis the Season

Summary: It’s Christmas time, and after a long time apart, you and your brothers are finally together to celebrate, even if it is inside a motel room.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff.

Note: Merry Christmas!

⛤ SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST ⛤

The Winchesters have never been big with celebrations. Especially since Mary passed away and hunting became the only thing on John’s agenda.This meant that you had never really experienced a proper Christmas before and neither had either of your brothers. Sure they remember snippets of Christmas from when they were younger and your mum was still around but it was never the same after that. John was never there and the three of you were often left to mill around in a shitty motel. The three of you would celebrate in your own little way. You would exchange gifts which, in Dean’s case, were often stolen or given to you by Bobby, and despite their efforts to make Christmas as normal as possible for you it was never quite how you had pictured it. Never how Sam and Dean remembered it. It didn’t help that John had told you when you were heartbreakingly young that there was no Santa Claus.

But this year, something was different. The Winchesters were celebrating.

You strolled down the road, your arm hooked around Sam’s as you admired the lights that had been strung up like bunting between the rows of buildings and hung from lampposts in the street. You wore your thickest jacket: an old blue hand-me-down from Dean, that you were pretty sure Sam might have even owned at one point before he grew taller than your older brother, and hand bundled yourself up with a scarf to shelter yourself from the frosty air.

The streets were quiet besides a few odd couples that greeted you and Sammy with a warm smile or a gentle nod. Most people were at home, celebrating the Christmas holiday.

The frost that blanketed the ground crunched under your feet and made your feet feel like small ice cubes despite the fact that you were wearing two pairs of socks. You and your brother walked quickly back to the motel where Dean was hovering over the stove tucked away in the corner of the motel. The moment you opened the door and were greeted with the warmth of the room and the smell of the food, you couldn’t help but smile up at Sam, as well as chuckle at the sight of your eldest brother. He had donned a red Santa hat and was singing along to the song he had turned up too loud on the radio between taking swigs from beer. He wrapped you up between his arms when the two of you returned with the last of the ingredients he needed before you made your way into the room.

On the nightstand between the two beds, replacing the lamp that had been shoved aside, sat a tree. It was measly and far from extravagant, sure, but you thought it was a nice touch. Dean had spotted it on the way back from a hunt and had insisted on buying it for the motel room. You spent the rest of the day hanging old car air fresheners from the branches as if they were baubles. It was makeshift; but somehow that made it seem even more special and you beamed brightly. You placed the brown paper bag you had been clutching beneath it, making sure to roll over the top to make sure that the contents were hidden.

“Alrighty.” Dean announced “Grubs up.”

The three of you squeezed around the table and began to tuck into the food that Dean placed in front of you on the table. Dean was far from the best chef that much was true but at a time like this you were grateful that he had made such an effort to cook. As the three of you ate between bouts of conversation and fits of laughter, it made you realise how much you missed spending time with your brothers. This was the first time you had truly sat down together in…well forever. Times had been kind of hectic with Sam returning from Stanford and everything with Dad and Dean, you were glad that for a few sweet moments, the three of you could just be a family. For once there was no worrying about monsters. No worrying about who was going to vanish next. It was just the three of you enjoying the little things in life.

Dinner, by far the best one you have had in a while, was followed up with gift giving and the three of you bundled on to the beds, sipping glasses of cold eggnog.

“Okay Sammy,” Dean said as he produced his first gift from his duffel. It seemed the three of you all had the same idea because it too was wrapped in a brown paper bag. “This one is for you.”

Sam unwrapped it eagerly, producing a dark glass bottle of his favourite beer.

“Thank you.” He laughed, producing a bag of his own. “It seems great minds think alike.”

Dean chuckled and he tore open the paper to reveal his favourite drink secured inside a porno magazine by an elastic band.

“Ok. This is for De.” You pulled out a small bag and handed it to him. Inside lay a small keychain in the shape of a pie that you had spotted on a rotating rack inside the gas station which you couldn’t resist buying, alongside a couple of packets of beef jerky that Dean always seemed to keep stashed away in his glovebox.

“Thanks kiddo” He laughed as he hooked the keychain onto his keys.

“And this is for you, Sammy.” You produced another bag and handed it to him, watching keenly as he unwrapped it, pulling out the clear plastic and producing a pair of wired headphones.

“It’s to stop you complaining about Dean’s music in the car.” You prompted.

“Hey!” Dean said with mock hurt. “I think you’ll find I have great taste in music.”

You raised your hands nonchalantly “tell that to him not me.”

“I’m just saying Dean, there are things out there besides mullet rock. You should try updating your cassettes some time. Seriously, dude.”

“You know the rules, Sammy.” Dean shook his head. “Driver picks the music-“

“Shotgun shuts his cakehole. Yeah. I know.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Anyway, enough. This is for you, Y/N.”

Sam rummaged around in his bag for a small white box before handing it to you. You took it gently. It was light in your hand.

“It's from both of us.” Dean added.

You peeled open the box slowly to reveal the insides which almost made you tear up. Inside the box sat a dainty necklace in the shape of a heart. It seemed familiar somehow, but you couldn’t place where you had seen it before. When you picked it up and turned it over in your palm to admire the delicacy of it, you noticed the small hinges on the side so decided to open it.

Inside was a small cut out of an image. The three of you were much younger here. Sammy was still smaller than Dean and you barely reached his hip. The three of you were grinning from ear to ear as you gripped onto each of your brothers hands as they swung you through the air at the moment the image was captured.

“It’s beautiful.” You sighed, looking up at your two brothers. “Where did you-“

“It was moms.” Dean said. It then hit you that you had seen her wearing it in pictures.

“Bobby found it while sorting through some of Dads old stuff that was left around his. We thought you should have it.”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” You smiled. “Help me put it on?”

“Of course.”

Dean moved closer to you, moving your hair aside so he could clasp the end of the good chain together.

“It looks like it’s always belonged there.” Sam told you when Dean let go of it so it could hang around your neck, settling on the centre of your chest.

“It’s perfect.” Dean told you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry, Christmas, Boys.”

Although being hauled up in a motel may not have seemed like the ideal way to celebrate Christmas for the average person, just being able to spend time with your brothers was enough for you. You cared not for an extravagant meal and bucket loads of expensive gifts. You were happy to settle with what you had and the fact that the three of you had celebrated like this meant so much to you as it did to them. The three of you may not have much, but you have each other, and that’s worth far more than anything else.

#supernatural x reader #supernatural x little sister reader #supernatural x sister reader #supernatural #supernatural fluff #fluffy fic #supernatural fanfic #Dean Winchester #dean winchester x little sister reader #Dean Winchester x sister reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x little sister reader #sam winchester x sister reader #winchester!sister #win!sis

[castiwls]

Love your blog btw:)

I saw you do platonic and was wondering if you could do one with the boys sister (if possible could she be older then sam but younger then dean) where there all dealing with the fallout of johns death

tysm!

by your side - d.w & s.w

Pairing; Sam & Dean x sister!reader (platonic)

Synposis; Johns death hit all of his children hard

Warnings; angst

Notes; I feel i kinda made John sound like a good dad in this lmao but how you wanna take it is up to you

Masterlist

The thought of your dad dying had always lingered over your head. Every time he missed a check in a voice in the back of your head screamed that it had finally happened. That John Winchester had made a fatal mistake and been killed by whatever he’d been hunting.

Dean had always assured you that it could never happen. But no matter what your older brother said the thought always lingered. Though in all the scenarios you’d imagined, you’d never imagined it happening like this. You’d never thought he would make a deal with a demon.

It had been a few days since Dean had been discharged and the three of you had decided to go up to Bobbys. None of you had really spoken about what had happened in the hospital. Dean had spent his time working on the Impala and you had locked yourself away in one of the guest's rooms.

You felt as if you were in a state of shock. You and your dad hadn’t always seen eye to eye but as you lay staring at the ceiling you couldn’t help but replay every memory of him you had. As you lay there you could feel tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

Your dad was dead and you never even got to say goodbye. John Winchester was by no means a perfect man, but he was your father and you loved him all the same.

A knock on your door had you quickly wiping your eyes before sitting up. “Co-come in.” 

The door squeeked as it opened and Sam’s head appeared. His eyes looked red as if he’d also been crying and you frowned. “Sam? What’s wrong?” You asked your younger brother. 

He didn't say anything as he shuffled into your room before lying down beside you. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “The last thing we did was argue y/n. He probably died thinking that I hated him or something” He sniffled slightly looking at you with teary eyes. Guilt had been eating Sam alive for the past few days. He’d never gotten to properly apologise and now he would never have the chance. 

You sighed before beginning to run a hand through his hair. “Sam. He knows you didn’t hate him. Trust me.” You smiled softly at him. “I know he never said it but deep down he was so proud of you.”

Sam hummed softly and leaned further into your chest.

“She’s telling the truth, Sammy.” Another voice chimed in. You felt the bed dip as Dean sat behind you. Sam kept quiet but you felt him relax slightly at Deans's words. 

Your brothers were all you had now. You felt Dean lie down beside you and you shifted slightly so you could see him. He rubbed a hand up your arm as he looked at your younger brother. 

After a while, Sam’s breathing evened out and you felt his hold loosen slightly as sleep took over.

“Are you ok? Seriously.” You whispered turning your head to look at Dean. The green-eyed man didn’t say anything for a moment and he just continued to rub your arm. “I…I don’t know.” He finally admitted. “Y/n what he said to me about-” He gestured to Sam. “what did he mean.” Dean’s tone was serious as he spoke. What John had told him was clearly causing more bother than you first realised. 

“And he only made that deal for me. I don’t understand why he would throw it all away when he was so close.” He frowned looking down at you.

“Maybe because your his son and he cared more about you than that damn thing that killed Mom.” Dean raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Maybe you were right.

He let out a sigh before shaking his head. “I don’t wanna have this conversation right now okay.” He wrapped his arm around you before settling down. 

“It’s late. We can talk in the morning.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go to sleep.” 

Dean closing off was what you expected but at least you’d planted the seed. He shouldn't feel guilty for what your dad did. You nodded and spared Sam a glance.

The youngest Winchester was still sleeping calmly against your chest and you smiled softly brushing a hand through his hair. You felt Dean’s arm tighten around your shoulder slightly. You knew the movement was his way of telling you to sleep and stop worrying over Sam. 

You let out a quiet sigh as you lay back on the pillows, placing your head on Deans's shoulder. “Night.”

“Night sweetheart.”

None of you were okay but you had each other and as you lay there for the first time in days you felt some semblance of peace.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x you #john winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #john winchester x daughter!reader #winchester!sister #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester angst #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester angst #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x you #spn angst #spn fanfic #sam winchester imagine

[sciencewithottsnpotts]

The Family Business

Criminal Minds x Winchester!Sister

BAU Team x Supernatural Reader

Saving People Part Three and Final Ending to the Saving People Trilogy :)

———————

What an accomplishment it was, to be 19 and living a good life. You were interning at a law firm when your Boss got called in on a priority case, and you were the lucky duck who got to go with him to carry around all his paperwork. But you didn't mind- cause you knew pencil pushing would eventually lead to taking leads on cases. Normally, your Boss worked on the side of the DA's office, prosecuting criminals to the full extent of the law. But this case was an exception. Y'all had been hired to be counsel to a suspect in a major murder investigation. And low and behold, the group of individuals running the case just so happened to be the FBI's BAU.

You watched Hotch's reaction as your Boss pushed past him into the interrogation room to interrupt Derek Morgan in his stare down with your new client. All of the agents that currently occupied the room looked affronted but unsurprised at your Boss's appearance. Though none noticed you standing in the doorway until a certain computer tech had to get into the room.

"Excuse me. So sorry," she sang as she glided into the room. It was then that a certain individual with eidetic memory turned around and saw your face.

"Y/n Winchester?"

That name had everyone whipping around. Your smile was genuine as you gazed back on them.

"Hello guys. Long time no see."

"Winchester? Why does that sound so familiar?" Came Garcia's cheery voice.

"Because we got to work together 4 years ago. On what the news dubbed the "Sacrificial Spree Murders" that consumed upwards of 80 deaths once you got those perpetrators to confess."

"Holy shit. That's right!" Emily Prentiss's face was kind even in its shock. Though everyone's perceptions changed when Hotch spoke.

"I also recall you conveniently disappearing when said confessions happened before you went MIA for 6 months."

You couldn't help but blush at that. "Heh- yeah. Fight or flight- ya know? You no longer needed me with those confessions, and I was getting antsy from having been in the same place for too long. So- I bolted. Besides. I didn't need you guys tracking me to figure out where I parked my car or putting a gps device in the wheel well. I know you're with the government- and that's exactly why I didn't trust you."

"Fair enough I guess," commented JJ. "Especially since those guys got effectively sentenced without your testimony. My question would be- why are you here now?"

All attention was on Jennifer Jareu as she asked that question. But before you could answer, distinct yelling came from the interrogation room where your Boss was making his way to the door with your new client.

"Interrogating my client without offer to counsel is against this man's given rights. It is because of this we will be taking our leave unless you can provide a valid warrant for his arrest?"

Before Hotch could get a word in edge-wise your Boss paced forward.

"Exactly what I thought. Here is my card," with a snap of his fingers you had handed him a business card to give to Hotch, "And you can contact me or my intern with any future desires to reach out to my client. Good day, Agent Hotchner." And just like that he was marching out with the potential Unsub in tow.

"Aaaaaaaand that's my cue. Gotta follow the boss cause I have the keys to the Mercedes. It was nice seeing you guys- though I don't know if I'd call this "better circumstances". I guess I'll be seeing you around. Bye!"

And just as suddenly as you'd appeared to them, you were gone.

"Who the hell was that?" Came Morgan's voice as he stared around at his team as they watched the practical (familiar) teenager leave the room.

"That," explained Rossi, "Was one Ms. Y/N Winchester."

"Wait- Winchester as in that psycho-genius from that Sacrificial Murder Spree?"

"The very one- so it would seem." Prentiss said, a quizzical look on her face.

"What the hell is she doing working in a law firm? More importantly how? She's like 18!"

"If memory serves she would actually be 19 going on 20 as she had turned 16 by the time the case was wrapping up." Spencer buttoned his suit jacket, as he collected his bag and made his way from the observation room, now made obsolete with no one to observe.

The rest of the team merely looked at each other, before following him out to re-strategize in the conference room.

—————————

"Winchester," you're boss said, as you drove him and your client to the hotel. You looked up into the rear view, as he was sat in the back conspiring with the potential Unsub.

"Yes, sir," you acknowledged.

"Do me a favor when we get back to the hotel and call up your brother. We're going to need all the assistance we can on this one, if we're going against the FBI instead of working with them."

A trickling sense of unease slithered down your spine and coiled in your stomach. Call my brother?

"My – uh – brother sir?"

"Yes, Samuel."

Sammy, you want to say. "And why would we need him, sir?"

The look on your boss's face is incredulous. "Why would- you think you got hired because of your grades kid? Shit no, this industry is all about connections. Winchester is a powerful name in these courts. You're here so I have a solid line directly to the big man. So call him. We'll need all the wisdom we can get."

"Yes, sir. Will do." Is all you can say. Samuel Winchester the Lawyer? What kind of weird alternate reality was this? Did you fuck with the wrong dragon that stole a magical charm and get thrust into another world that mimics this one?

No, you think, you remember too much, and far too little at the same time. Because that's the truth. You remember your mother and her funeral. Your father and your brothers. Dean's mother hen attitude, Sam's healthy fitness lifestyle. Hunting. You remember all of it. You even remember Dean taking the Mark. The demon possessing him. Hell- literally. You even remember the case with the BAU. Every last detail of it. Getting captured, getting the girls out, going to the police, and...

You don't remember actually catching the bad guys.

But the BAU did! They said you bolted. And that sounds like something you'd do, but you can't actually remember it.

Why can't you remember it?!

"Winchester- watch out!"

"What?"

The sound of a truck horn has you zoning back in, though too late. You swerve, in an attempt to avoid the head on collision, and instead loose control of the vehicle, speeding uncontrollably off the edge into a deep forested drop below. There's screaming, and yelling, and a whole lot of fear.

This is not how I thought I'd go out! You think, closing your eyes and bracing for impact.

You feel yourself fall, and hit the ground. But it's far more mild than you expected. There's no screaming any more, no smoke. In fact, you're lying on linoleum tiles.

"Oh gosh, I am so sorry, are you ok miss?" You know that voice.

You pick your head and yourself from the ground, to see Spencer Reid of the BAU, reaching around a door, shock and remorse clear in his eyes.

"Uh, yeah. I'm ok, I think."

There it was again, the coiling unease, it was growing.

"Ah, Ms. Winchester, what brings you back to the precinct?"

You look around, surprised to see that, yes, you are back in the precinct. The one you had just left yesterday. When you got in a car crash.... Only you didn't.

Why were you back?

"We've brought back our client," your boss says behind you, exasperated.

Suspicion crosses Spencer's features, "Pray tell, for what reason. For you both left quite confident and angered yesterday."

"He wishes to make a deal." came another voice further down the hall your boss was standing in.

Your blood runs cold. You know that voice. Leaning around your boss, you see, of all people, Sam Winchester. And he's in a suit. And his hair- oh Chuck his hair!! It's cut short, and slicked back. He- he- he looks- jeez, he looks like a prick.

It doesn't take long for everyone to gather in the conference room, a camera set up in the corner, to record the whole room and this odd interaction. You sat against the same wall the cameras on, claiming to stay in the back ground to observe. Which, technically isn't wrong.

You were mostly trying to figure out, what in all of HELLS HALF ACRE WAS GOING ON!!

You were silently freaking out, and don't know how you managed to keep your face so neutral. Cause there was Sammy. Your brother Sam, dressed up in an expensive pin-stripe suit, hair all wrong, face too cold, working with your boss and client (do you even know their names?? Who are these people?) sitting across from the FB-fucking-I!

How do you not remember anything before this. Why don't you remember the arrests from the Murder Spree case like the team does?? Why didn't you die last night when the car went off the highway? Was that even last night?

For the love of all that is holy- what the HELL WAS GOING ON!

Your distress must have been obvious to everyone in the room, for it was Agent Prentiss who addressed you. "Are you alright Y/N?"

You look up in shock, ripped from your internal break down, and realize that everyone in the room is looking at you. You had to get out of there.

"Um, actually... no, I'm not." Your hand comes up to your head, pushing on one of your temples, while the other lays against the wall for balance. "I have a killer head ache that came out of nowhere. I think I may have a concussion from my collision in the hallway." You wince, hoping the lie is believable.

"What collision?" Asked Hotchner.

"That would be my fault," came Reid, "I opened the bathroom door to quickly, and preceded to hit Ms. Winchester with it." Remorse was evident in his voice. But you didn't care. This was all wrong.

You wanted to leave. You needed to leave.

Your panic must've shown through some, for it's your brother who speaks next. "Why don't you go to the break room and get some water, then find an observation room to lie down in the dark. We'll come get you when we're done here."

"That sounds like a good idea. Thanks, Sammy."

You don't see the confusion that crosses your brothers face at the nickname. He was Samuel to most, Sam to few and well, hadn't been Sammy since you were 12. At least here.

But you didn't know that. And you didn't care to. You speed walk to the break room, lowering your hand from your head, only when your in the seclusion of the room. The windows in the room are fortunately covered by their blinds for now. You grab a drink of water as you were told. But your growing panic doesn't let you sit.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. 

Run. 

Wrong. 

Run. 

Wrong. 

Run. Run. Run. Run. 

WRONG!

Over and over it screams in your head. You begin pacing the floor. Mug squeezed so tightly in your hands, your knuckles are white and your fingers are red.

This is wrong! You slam your mug and hands onto the counter, frustrated. The surface clinks underneath the impact. And that's when you see the drawer in the cabinetry.

You rip it open with a bang! At first glance it's all tongs and serving spoons. But buried under the layers of grimy and unorganized plastic wear you see it- a knife.

The tarnished reflection it shows in the horrid florescent lighting tells you the only truth you need- it's silver.

You hop to the fridge next, squished between the counter and the sink you had drank from earlier. The chances were low.

But there, inside that fridge was a fuck ton of brown butcher-paper-wrapped slabs of meat that said "Loui's Lambs. Best Chops in the State!" As well as a sticky note saying thank you to the cops or some shit for a stupid fundraiser.

You skip that useless information and instead look for the messiest wrapping on all the products. The one that was the juiciest, leaking the most, promising to be the bloodiest. Instead, you found a plastic Tupperware container, like the one you get potato salad in at the deli, full of "spare bits". Hey- don't hate- that's what it was labeled as, that was not your doing.

But it was full, and it was bloody. And it was as you starred at the two contents filling either hand, knife and bits, you realize why this doesn't feel right.

Your vision flashes. Dark warehouse halls, the dripping echo of an old abandoned and leaking building. Two men, one with dark and one with light hair. Tattoos, hidden under layers of grimy clothes. Glowing eyes.

"Djinn."

You whisper it, but the sinking in your stomach makes it feel like your yelled it. Djinn. It explained everything. Sam, the lack of memories, the glitch when the car almost crashed. The migraine! You were losing blood. You were loosing it fast. Cause these men didn't take long to act. You remember. Leaving the precinct, the day you brought back the girls, sneaking off to your car and searching out the two men.

Only back then you hadn't known about ask the tattoos that lingered beneath the dirty sleeves of your captors. You thought they were just human psychos. You remember it now. You remember it all. You also remember the only way to escape this dream world.

Your death.

You glance at the knife again. Putting the blood back into the fridge. You wouldn't need it. Because there was no djinn here. Not in this world. No, this world was controlled by djinn.

You slip the knife very carefully up your blouse sleeve and make your way from the break room to the bathroom. You double the act of the headache. One hand gripping your forehead, the other pressed against your stomach to keep the knife hidden in your blazer.

You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, headache and nausea becoming quite real as you physically lost more blood to the djinn. 

Chuck you hoped this worked. You were a Winchester for fuck's sake. Dying at the hands of a djinn, was not in your "Top 10 Ways to Die as a Winchester" list. 

You rushed into the bathroom and then the biggest stall, falling down as a harsh pang shot across your head. 

Why did your mouth feel so dry suddenly?

You pulled the knife out from your sleeve with shaking hands. Carefully, you lined the blade up with your heart. Just as you were ready to act, the creaking of the door broke through your pounding head.

"Y/N? Are you in here? Are you alright?" called out one Emily Prentiss. A vision of her flashes before you at the sound of her voice. Of FBI Agents swarming an abandoned warehouse. Flashlights swinging across the darkness. Voices calling "CLEAR" as they pass through rooms. An echo of Emily's voice as she lifts your head, the rest of the team following behind her. And a shadow and a flash of blue.

"No!" you shout, bringing the blade down, stabbing yourself in this dream world. 

"Y/N!" Emily's voice is urgent now. You blearily look down and see blood quickly pooling on the floor, hands going numb. The door bursts open, Emily standing above you with horror on her face. A shadow forms behind her, magic blue eyes and arms of tattoos visible in your fading vision. 

The last thing you can process in this false world is the word "duck" before the world goes white.

—————————

The beeping of the heart monitor is almost lulling to the team as they sit in your hospital room. All six of them crammed into the small emergency room, waiting for you to wake up. If Strauss or anyone higher up were to ask why all of them were waiting there, Hotch was prepared with the "protocol" argument. They needed to interview you, be assured of your safety, be prepared to get CPS involved if needed, and all that other red-tape type shit.

The real reason, though, was you had saved them. Barely conscious from the head trauma visible on your forehead you had stabbed the unsub, while laying in Prentiss's arms, as he attempted to kill her himself. Then you somehow managed to pull yourself up, half alive and still bleeding to death, to follow the sounds of gun shots and end the life of the other Unsub who wasn't falling, despite having over five bullets in his chest. They don’t even know where you got the knife from.

The team had been in shock as they watched their respective suspects die. Blue flashing from their eyes, the light of their tattoos dying with them as they collapsed to the ground. Morgan and JJ, both of whom had fallen victim to the magic of the djinn, awoke with a gasp as the last one fell. You falling alongside the second one had the team acting fast. Ambulance already on standby they got you rushed to the hospital. You had to have three blood transfusions. One in the ambulance on the way, and two more once you got to the hospital and your neck wound was stitched up. Doctors state you had lost about 30% of your blood before you had finally passed out. It was that fact that left the team truly speechless. By all rights you should have been unconscious and on the brink of death by the time the found you. 

And yet, in their attempt to save you from the unsubs, you saved them. They had all seen the man with blue eyes and blue tattoos survive the gun shots, as he got his hands on their team mates, knocking them unconscious with a glowing hand. It was impossible, what they saw. Morgan refused to speak about what he dreamed about for the short period of time he was under. JJ looked haunted, but was writing it all down in the notepad she had found in the back of the SUV. Prentiss had tossed her jacket to the side, as it was covered in the blood from the first unsub, who had almost succeeded in doing the same to her, or worse. Reid sat in the corner, replaying the days events in his mind on a loop, trying to justify things and fill them in with fact when there was mostly only the impossible. Hotch and Rossi stood in the corners, worrying over their team and their wellbeing, processing everything as well. 

This job had become more of a headache than it was probably worth, and was going to be a boat-load of paperwork. But one thing they could focus on were simple facts and truth.

The unsubs were no longer a worry, but other impossible worries lingered in everyone's minds.  

Yet, as sherlock once said, "When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." And so the truth stood. The unsubs who had died were no ordinary men. They weren't natural. Nor was it some kind of extreme technology that allowed them to be what they were. No matter how much Reid and the team didn't want to accept it there was only one option that truly remained. The supernatural just might be real. 

And you had a lot of questions to answer when you finally woke back up. 

__________________

You hated hospitals. You hated cops (Jody Mills and Donna Hanscum excluded). You hated people who refused to understand your world. You hated monsters, specifically the ones who enjoyed hurting people. You hated your dad for bringing your family into this world. You had a lot of unresolved anger and trauma to work through. Not to mention the echo of your djinn induced dream haunting your sleepless nights.

But you were grateful to now have the BAU partially on your side. You didn't have to worry so much about having them tracking you. And while they weren't quite ready to absolve your brothers of their "Most Wanted" status, most of them did not see you as a potential threat. Instead you had made a deal. You'd keep a reliable form of contact with them, and they'd be sure to reach out for a consultation should a case start looking a little... unnatural. 

And as you drove away in one of the bunker's many vintage cars you had stowed away outside of town, you couldn't help but smile at how things had somehow, for once in your short Winchester life, ended relatively well.

Your peace of mind is interrupted by a chirp on one of your many cellular devices. A note from Sam.

Black eyes have been turned back to green. Next task: find a solid stain remover for this Mark. You able to come home to lend a hand with the laundry and pest control? 

The relief that flooded through you at knowing Dean was finally demon-less was strong. Foot pushing heavy on the pedal you blast some music, and text back a simple response.

Wayward's coming home. Tell mother hen I say "Hey". See y'all soon.

Being a Winchester wasn't easy and it was never boring. But hey, you know how it goes.

Saving People. Hunting Things.

The Family Business. 

_________________________________________________

Aaaaaaaaand we're finally done!!! Ah that's crazy! This has taken so long (literally over a year I am soooooo sorry) and has been through so many rewrites. But I'm so happy to have finally created an ending I'm happy with, and I hope you are too. Do timelines match up between the two shows? absolutely not, but that's not important lol.  Thank you all who have followed along on this little trilogy! You're engagement is so encouraging, and your patience is appreciated. 

One note I would like to add:  Suicide is no joke, and is never an ACTUAL answer to our problems and struggles. I plead to everyone here, that if you are having thoughts of self-harm or suicide, depressions, or even possible hallucinations to please seek help and treatment. There is nothing wrong with you, and you're allowed to ask for help. Remember, someone does actually care, even if you feel alone, and there is always a future, even if it seems bleak now. 

Thank you all again!

Tags: (I hope I did this right)

@sylum @ampal98 @singhfae @supernerdycookietrashblr

@super-sexy-agent-hotchner (I don’t think this one works)

#criminal minds x winchester!sister #bau x reader #supernatural sister #saving people hunting things #the family business #aaron hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #criminal minds #supernatural #winchester!sister #dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #supernatural x reader #criminal minds x reader #solving crimes #djinn are assholes

[platonicfanfiction]

Supernatural

Your Mistake [Winchester!Reader] (F)

Hustler [Winchester!Reader] (F)

Breakfast Time

Shirts Worn [Trans Male!Reader]

Lucifer's First Son (M)

Of Cats and Angels [Winchester!Reader]

Long Lost Sister Masterlist

#platonic fanfiction #winchester!reader #winchester!sister #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #destiel x reader #platonic x reader #male reader #trans male reader #non binary reader #x reader #supernatural x reader #spn fanfiction #spn x reader

[bellamybellamyblake]

When the Sun Sets: Prologue

Characters:

morgan winchester (OC), sam winchester, dean winchester

Warnings (for entire story):

SPN typical violence, so so much suppressing of emotions, vague mention of SA, depiction of torture, a very pro-torture main character, vague mention of not eating for a while, slight suicidal ideation, SPN typical alcohol abuse, spoiler warning up to the end of season 10, following canon stops after the end of season 2, but things are definitely going to be mentioned

Word Count:

350 (roughly)

A/N:

hiiiiiii, i started something new instead of finishing what i’ve had in the works for FOREVER. but what else is new? the chapters will be wayyyyy longer than this fyi. this will probably be around 5 parts long (not including this)

Rural, country roads used to bother Mo at night. There was something about the pitch black atmosphere that was suffocating to the young girl. Where flat lands swallow the sky, leaving nothing but an empty unease, and limited streetlights flickered like candles.

If left in solitude for too long, the darkness would send her adrift. Currents taking her further and further from those that kept her grounded, not letting her come back. She'd stay stuck thinking of what is, what should and will never be. Maybe, if she'd allow it, tears would begin to stick to her lashes and stain her cheeks. Maybe, she'd let them fall into her lips to feel the comfort that was the taste of salt, a piece of her childhood.

Maybe, everyday when the sun began to set, she'd lose herself in an endless ocean of grass-covered cow shit.

Just as often, however, the guttural rumble of an immaculately cared for engine would snap her back to shore like an act of God. The hard rock she used to hate playing through the speakers as if its goal was to make it impossible to think.

No one gave a crap about that Chevrolet Impala when it rolled off the line in the plant in Janesville on April 24th. They should have, though. That 1967, pre-owned, under appreciated vehicle would turn out to be the most important hunk of metal in the entire universe.

Or, at least, that’s what it was to Morgan and her family.

Their story began on November 2nd, 1983. The day Mary Winchester burned to death. Or, to be more specific, was murdered. John, her husband, had vowed to hunt down whoever did it and take them down, no matter the cost.

But when the cost became the lives of all three of his children, where’s the point of return?

But this is Morgan's story. And when the pitch-black atmosphere she used to be so scared of becomes the color of her eyes, she has to ask herself a question.

“Why were you so afraid of the dark?”

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #winchester!sister #winchester!daughter #the winchester brothers #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x ofc #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x oc #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader

[lavenderti]

Sneak peek at the first chapter of a series I'm writing <3

You stared out at the apartment complex before you. "Dean, are you sure this is a good idea? I'm sure we can find Dad with just the two of us…" you trailed off, not sounding entirely sure of yourself. You look at your older brother, Dean, in the driver's seat. This was the last place you wanted to be. Sam finally got out of the hunting life, and the last thing you wanted to do was drag him back into it, But Dean had insisted, and even you couldn't deny that it was weird how long Dad had been on this hunt with no contact.

Dean sighed. "y/n, we've been over this. Having the three of us will make finding Dad quicker." you huffed softly but nodded your head. Dean smiled widely at you. "Okay, so, I'll go in first; wait out here until I say so," He said, quickly making his way out of the car, shutting the door before you could say anything else. You shake your head with a sigh before reaching into the glovebox and pulling out a book you kept with you, silently reading it.

It took about ten minutes before you got a text from Dean telling you that they were coming outside; you stepped out of Baby just as they rounded the corner; it was obvious that they were arguing, but despite that, a smile grew at the sight of your little brother. "Sam, hey," you say as you step forward to pull him into a hug. "Sorry 'bout this," you say quietly to him. Before he can respond, Dean interrupts, seemingly continuing the previous conversation, "So what are you gonna do, Sam? Live some normal, apple pie life?" Sam is growing more irritable. "No, not normal, safe." Dean scoffs at him, "And so that's why you ran away." he snaps back, and you take that as a sign to step in. "Okay, okay, Fighting isn't going to help find Dad. Sam, i get it if you don't want to come" you ignore Deans protests and continue "but, we could use your help. This is not a run-of-the-mill hunt that Dad's on, and he could be in some real danger. You say softly.

"We can't do this alone," Dean says, and Sam responds, "Yes, you can." You stay quiet, gauging your brother's reactions; after a few moments, Sam sighs, "... What was he hunting?". Deans's face relaxes slightly, and he leads both of you to the trunk, opening it. He mumbled as he searched through the trunk. "So when dad left, why didn't you guys go with him?" Sam asks from where he's leaning on baby. "We were working our own gig," Dean responds. "There was some voodoo shit going on down in New Orleans," You add on, and Sam looks surprised. "Dad let you guys go on a hunting trip by yourselves?" he asks incredulously, and Dean looks at him. "I'm 26, dude, and Y/n's 24; yeah, he let us go by ourselves," he responds. After a few silent moments, Dean lets out a small 'ah ha!' as he finds what he's looking for. "Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California," you say with your arms crossed. "'bout a month ago, this guy," Dean says, passing over a paper to Sam. "They found his car, but he had vanished. Completely M.I.A.," He finishes, and Sam looks the paper over before responding, "Maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah, well, here's another one in April, another in December '04, '03, '98, '92. Ten of them over the past 20 years. All men, all same 5-mile stretch of road." Dean says. You pause for a moment before adding, "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around… That was about three weeks ago. We haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough; then I got this voicemail from him yesterday." you say pulling out your phone and playing the voicemail. After it finishes, Dean says, "I got the voicemail and slowed it down and got this." he plays the audio, and there is a clear voice of a woman saying, "I can never go home." 

A silence lingers over the three of you before Dean closes the trunk and leans on it, turning to Sam. "You know, in almost two years, I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." You sigh softly, shaking your head, but you stay quiet. Sam waits a couple of moments before saying, "All right, I'll go; I'll help you guys find him." Dean obviously relaxes a bit at that. "But I have to get back first thing Monday, just wait here," Sam says. "What first thing Monday?" you ask, and Sam responds, "An interview." Dean scoffs lightly "What, a job interview? Skip it." causing you to send a glare his way "It's a law school interview, and its my whole future on a plate" Sam responds and you feel a smile grow on your face, pride welling up in your chest. "We got a deal or not?" Sam asks, ignoring Deans's snarky remark. Dean reluctantly nods, giving Sam the go-ahead to get inside and grab his stuff; you give him a small guilty smile as he leaves. Once he's out of sight, you smack Deans's arm. "Ow, what?!" Dean replies, and you give him an annoyed look. "Cut the bullshit; you need to go easy on him." You say with a frown, Dean doesn’t reply.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stay tuned, I'm super excited for this!!!

#dean winchester #fandom #fanfic #sam winchester #supernatural #Winchester!sister #Dean Winchester sister #Sam Winchester sister #Dean Winchester x reader (Platonic) #Sam Winchester x reader (Platonic) #spn #spnfandom #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural series #reader is the sister of Sam and Dean #samuel winchester #john winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader

[mlovesstories]

Chandelier

Words: None

Summary: Little Sister Winchester likes moving into the bunker.  

“This place is great!” Sam and Dean’s little sister entered the bucker.  “We have a house now!” She exclaimed.  

“Not exactly, but kind of.” Sam brought his bag in behind her and followed her down the stairs.  The brothers took her on a tour of the place before letting her choose a bedroom.  YN walked into the one she wanted.  

“I can’t wait to decorate! I can have posters and paint it, and maybe- A CHANDELIER!”

“Uh. What?” Dean gasped.  “What? No.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.  “That’s stupid.  No one has a chandelier in their room.” 

YN suddenly became silent.  Her eyes growing big, Dean realized how what he had just said came across to his young sister.  

“No, wait.  We can find one.  I’m sorry,” he sputtered out.  

“HAHAHA! GOTCHA! I’d rather tear my hair out than have that girly thing in here!” She gave up her charade.  

“You’re just SO FUNNY, aren’t you?” Dean rolled his eyes and shoved his sister lightly.

@katymacsupernatural  @unicornblood4ever  

@fangirl-moment-x  @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl

@super100012  @percywinchester27  @waywardsuns  @supernatural-jackles  

@mcallmestiles @sdavid09  @kingandrear  @bellero @skylarraker

@seality​​​​​ @jaycc7983​​​ @luci-in-trenchcoats​​​

@cherryblossomflowers​​ @because-you-never-know-when​

@sleepylunarwolf​ @choosemyname​

@internationalmusicteacher​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​

@encounterthepast​  @torn-and-frayed​

@giggles1026​ @xiumin-girl99​

@mangueweaschester​

@idksupernatural​  @silverstripe101a​

@thevelvetseries​ @samsgirl93​   @supernatural3002​ *

* @breereadsthings​ *

@vicmc624​ @hookedinto-fictionalworlds​   @beatifuldisaster018​

@miraclesoflove​ @myopiamystical​

@waywardnewcomer​  

@akshi8278​  

#supernatural #supernaturalcanon #mlovesstories #mlovesstorieschandelier #dean winchester #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x sister #dean x sister!reader #winchester!sister

[thefemalestorywriter]

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Imagines

Oneshots

Mini-Series

Series

#sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam x yn #winchester!sister #jared paladecki

[rosegoldquintis]

Any supernatural fans still lurking on my blog??

Might have something coming for you in the coming days if you’re up for it🫶🏻

#supernatural imagine #winchester!sister #supernatural

[hb-writes]

A Welcome Reprieve

Summary: Just a moment of reprieve between Sam and Nora Winchester while Dean is being put through the Demon curing ritual.

Characters: Sam Winchester & Nora Winchester (OC)

Request: From anon - 236. "I just really need a hug right now." With Nora and Sam. I can't think of the situation right now but I'll let you decide~

Content Warnings: Angst

Here’s the AO3 link if you prefer to read over there.

Supernatural (Nora Winchester) Masterlist

Angst Celebration Masterlist

Please take a moment to tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Dean had made them a promise. And Dean’s promises were something Nora had come to believe in more than anything else in this life because she trusted him. Dean always came through. Dean didn't let her down. If he said he'd do something, her brother always did it. Those guarantees usually provided her with some sort of comfort, but Dean’s most recent promise had left Nora feeling sick to her stomach.

From the back seat of the Impala, Dean had said that what he had to offer to them...his siblings, his family...none of it would be mercy.

His words had sent a chill running up Nora’s spine as she sat shotgun, just in front of Dean while Sammy drove them to the bunker. She almost wished he had been the type who didn't follow through. She wished he had been the type who dished out empty promises, but that wasn't the type of person her brother was. Dean's words held weight. And they sat heavy in Nora's heart and her head.

She fixated on those words now, twisting them over and over in her mind as she waited for some sort of update, imaging the worst of scenarios, all of the ways Dean could fulfill his promise to them. As if this all hadn't been bad enough...Sam had tried to keep his sister from the worst of it. He'd relegated Nora to a few rooms of the bunker he figured would be out of earshot of the demon-curing ritual—the kitchen and the library and her bedroom.

Smart as he was, Sam had somehow miscalculated and Nora could hear everything from the kitchen. Each and every word of Dean’s shouts and taunts rang out clear as if she was right there with them. All of it brought her back to the time when it was Sam in some sort of precarious position in regards to his humanity, branded by hell in one way or another. It was an experience Nora had wished she would never have had to repeat, a brother without a soul. Once had been more than enough.

“I thought you went to sleep," Sam said from the doorway.

Nora started, quickly shifting the movement into a shrug. She hadn’t slept properly in days. Sam knew that, but Nora’s bedroom door had been shut and the lights had been off when he had walked by an hour earlier. And had Sam opened the door to check on her, he probably would have thought his sister was asleep. Her tears had been silent, her sobs undetectable. She’d been curled up under the blankets, closed in on herself.

They both had closed up a bit, choosing to process it all on their own.

“If you fix him, he’ll be hungry,” Nora offered, turning back to the stove to mix the filling. “You hungry?” She turned from the stove, avoiding Sam’s eyes as she walked to the fridge and tugged the door open to look inside. “We have…” Nora pushed aside the half-empty milk carton and found little more than a few eggs, old takeout, assorted condiments, and a package of wilted spinach leaves.

It had been her turn to do the shopping, but with everything going on it just hadn't seemed a priority.

“Well, there’s not much." She shrugged, "but I can make us eggs?”

Nora shut the fridge and turned back to her brother, the forced smile breaking a bit as she realized Sam hadn’t stopped watching her since he came into the room. He looked so tired, so weary. Concerned. Nora swallowed that observation down and glanced at the stove, the comforting scent of cinnamon and nutmeg and apples filling the room as the mixture bubbled.

“Or...”

She opened the cupboard beside the stove, sifting through the selection of canned soups and beans and vegetables they usually avoided. Nora had once mentally labeled the stash as zombie apocalypse lunches.

Sam pushed off the table and walked toward his sister while she was still digging in the cabinet. He knew Nora was just trying to keep herself busy while Castiel and Sam were dealing with Dean, keeping her hands occupied in the hopes that her mind would follow, but Sam could see it wasn’t working. Nora needed a reprieve from it all just as much as he did. Closing off and shoving everything down had helped them both to get through so far, but holding it in was doing more harm than good. For both of them.

“We could—”

Sam set his hand on Nora’s shoulder, cutting her off as he turned her from the cupboard. “I just really need a hug right now.”

Something—everything—swelled inside of Nora as Sam made the request, a quick breath carrying with it all of the emotions she’d beaten down again and again in recent weeks. Nora turned and quickly fit herself against her brother’s chest, careful of his sprained shoulder, content even though Sam could only hold her with a single arm.

Nora felt her brother’s stomach rumble as he held her there and she didn’t fight the spontaneous giggle that came to her lips.

“Maybe I need something to eat, too,” Sam said.

“Apple pie filling?” Nora suggested, a bit surprised when Sam nodded.

“Do we have whipped cream?” he asked, letting Nora out of the hug to search the fridge for the can of what he usually referred to exclusively as 'indulgent, processed crap.' Sam shook the can when he found it, pointing the nozzle straight onto his tongue and swallowing down a mouthful before he offered the same to Nora, shooting a too-large portion of the white fluff into her giggling mouth.

Nora was tempted to comment on the fact that this wasn’t like her brother. The silly behavior was so out of character for her Sammy and it felt almost wrong given all that was happening, but Nora didn’t want to draw attention to it. She knew that this was what they both needed—something light and easy. Something silly. They needed a hug, and some sweetness—a moment of reprieve—a moment to forget about where they were and what they were doing, a moment to hope that Dean would be back to himself soon enough, giving hugs and inhaling pie, teasing and laughing and loving.

If only hope was enough.

—

Supernatural (Nora Winchester) Masterlist

Angst Celebration Masterlist

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #Sam Winchester #winchester!sister #demon!dean #nora winchester #wincester sister #hb.writes angst #500 follower celebration

[jasmines-library]

Black Smoke Rising

WHUMPTOBER DAY 30: Prompt ‘possession’

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: Seeking revenge on the Winchesters, a demon decides to go undercover by using your body as a vessel to sneak into the bunker. Whilst trapped within your own mind, you can only hope that Sam and Dean notice that something is amis before it is too late.

Warnings: Possession, alcohol consumption, minor injury.

Word count: 1.6k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

You knocked back another drink, savouring the warm burn it left in the back of your throat. The bar was busy, full of a swarm of loud and more often than not obnoxious people, most of which were nursing a glass of something cool or slinging a pool cue across a table against the rattling balls. It was odd that you had chosen to come here to find some space. A place so busy that you could hardly stand without being jostled around like a rag doll. You figured that perhaps watching people getting on with their lives allowed you to take a breather. To revel in a normal life just for a moment and to get away from all of the mess for just a moment.  

It had been a very stressful week to say the least. You and the rest of team Free Will were so wrapped up in a case that it was beginning to go to everyone’s head when you kept hitting dead ends. It was that build up of anger and frustration that led to the argument with Dean. The two of you were similar in the way that you both tried to suppress your emotions, but it never ended well because it only fueled you more until you snapped, spitting words at each other that you knew you would come to regret later but you couldn’t stop from flying out of your mouth. They were hurtful words, each cutting deeper than the first, but Dean spat venom laced words back at you too until you finally broke down, fleeing the bunker to  find solace in the bottom of a bottle. You could practically see Dean doing the same thing back at the bunker, wallowing in guilt and self pity. 

You were about to leave, splashing the last of the amber liquid into the back of your throat when you suddenly got the feeling that someone was studying you closely, but when you glanced around the room, your hunter training kicking in, you saw no one. So, you let out a deep sigh and pushed your stool away from the bar to return to the bunker. It was getting late and you knew that you would have to face Dean sooner or later. Although you would have much rather picked the ‘later’ option, if you had had somewhere else to go and we’re going to be kicked out of the bar soon.  

The odd feeling still lingered as you stepped out of the bar and out onto the cold streets still illuminated by the last of the streetlights and the luminescence of the moon through intermittent clouds. You couldn't help but tug your jacket closer to your body as you walked through the town. A shiver trailed down your spine. Unsure if it was from the crisp autumn air or from the feeling that still followed you, you made a mental note to bring a warmer jacket next time. 

Then, you felt your feet leave the ground and your back collide with a wall as someone pressed you up harshly against the wall. The woman was tall with dark hair and in a split second she flashed you her inky black eyes. Demon, 

“Get off me.” You gave her a sharp shove. 

She hummed. “How ‘bout… no?”

She slid a blade from her jacket sleeve. An angel blade. You dread to think where she had gotten it from. You tried to back away. But she pressed the tip of the blade into your shoulder where your anti possession tattoo sat. She dragged it along your skin creating a split in your tattoo.

She grinned. “That’s better.”

You were helpless as the black smoke rose from her vessel's mouth, rising to the sky in a plume before funnelling into your mouth. You could feel the demon rummaging around in your head, forcing you to retreat into the back of your mind. It was like watching the world though a movie screen as she moved, forcing your body forward. You screamed at her to get out, but she only ignored you and made the trek to the bunker. 

It was unbelievably easy for the Demon to slip into the bunker unnoticed whilst inside your body. With access to your memories, she walked like you, talked like you. She didn’t think like you though. Amongst other things you could hear the nightmarish thoughts that ran through her mind. The things she planned to do to Sam and Dean were things that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone. She was desperate for revenge, and she was going to get it good. 

Dean stood up abrupt when he saw you shuffle into the bunker, hanging up your thin jacket on the hooks by the doors. 

“Y/N… listen I-”

The Demon cut him off with a wave of your finger. “It’s okay, Dean.”

“Dean!” You screamed at him, but no sound came out of your mouth. You prayed that he would notice it wasn’t you. That he would realise that there was something using your body as a puppet. The demon only barked at you to be quiet, a conniving smile appearing on her lips.

Dean and the demon exchanged a few words, before he turned and made for the kitchen, something tickling at the back of his mind. It was unusual for you to forgive him in a blink of an eye. Usually you would have taken some more time to think over it rationally before trying to talk your struggles out with him. But not this time. You had hardly batted an eye, 

Sam was tapping away at his keyboard as Dean chopped away at the counter, sliding in ingredients into a sizzling pan. He eyed you from the doorway, watching as you ran your fingers along the dusty shelves, inspecting the rows of sharp knives. 

“She actin’ strange to you?” Dean asked through a mouthful of food that hadn’t quite made it to the pan. 

Sam tilted his head out of the doorway, leaning over on his chair so that it was balanced precariously on two legs. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, she forgave me, Sam. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers together to emphasise the point. 

Sam frowned. “Hm.”

“Something’s up.” Dean had known it since the minute you had hung up your coat instead of throwing it absentmindedly on the floor or over a chair. 

“Demon?”

Dean furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure. But I'm going to find out.”

~

Dean had found you in your room, laid out across your stomach and scrolling through your phone. The demon pressed a smirk onto your lips as he leaned up against the doorway. 

“Hey, De. You okay?” She said, It was odd hearing your voice without saying the words. 

“Yeah… Y/N, I gotta show you something.” He gestured to you to follow him out of the room. 

You tried to call out to him as the Demon followed with your light footsteps, but there was nothing but silence. He led you to the dungeon, which was dimly lit and. 

“Why are we here, Dean?” She asked as she noted the Devils trap on the floor dancing cautiously around it as she followed the eldest Winchester who had begun to rummage around in a box on one of the shelves. 

“We are looking for a Demon.” He spun around, splashing the holy water against your skin. The demon howled and stumbled back. It was then that Sam leapt out of the shadows and gave a harsh shove, causing your body to clatter to the ground inside the devil’s trap. 

The Demon smiled. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to crack it. I knew it wouldn’t be long but for a hunter, you’re unusually smart.” She quipped. 

“Get out of her, you Bitch.” He ordered. 

She just laughed which earnt her another round of holy water against her skin. 

“Y/N. I know you’re still in there.” Dean said. “You have to fight her!”

You were. You wanted to scream at him. You were but she just wouldn’t budge. The Demon yelled at you to shut up, silencing you. 

“Y/N’s not home right now. But you can leave a message. She was calling out to you. Pleading for me not to hurt you but…”

“Was?”

She hummed. “Well…”

Sam began to mutter the latin incantation. The demon groaned as she felt herself being forced from her vessel, fighting against the sensation, she pulled out her knife again and angled it over your abdomen. 

“Ah ah. Not another word, Sammy.”

He froze. 

“Y/n.” Dean tried again. “I know you’re there. Come on, you're stronger than this.”

Weakened by the trap, you managed to get a grip on the demons hold over you, prying away her fingers one by one. It was hard laborious work, but watching Sam and Dean plead for you gave you the extra push you needed to force her away for just a second. 

When you gained blissful control over your body, you dropped the knife, kicking it out of the circle. 

“Y/N?!” Sam asked.

“Sam! Now.” You gritted out. “Hurry.”

Sam uttered the rest of the exorcism and your head flew back as the black smoke rose from your mouth and out through one of the vents.

You slumped to the floor.

“Kid?” The brothers were both at your sides, checking you over for scrapes. Sam’s gaze landed on the gash that ran down your tattoo. They would have to fix that sooner or later. 

“I’m okay.” You tugged them closer. “It’s me.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 29 ⛤ DAY 31 ->

taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

#whumptober #whumptober2023 #whumptober23 #no.30 #supernatural x reader #supernatural #spn #possession #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Sam Winchester x reader #Winchester!sister #supernatural x sister reader

[hrast-ika]

gaslighting all of you (and myself) into thinking this was the real spn finale, where the fam and wayward sisters go to the beach and have a good ol time (i am never gonna finish these so i might as well post them on this special day)

#spn #supernatural #the real spn finale #nov 5th #my art #my stuff #destiel #fanart #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #wayward sisters #eileen leahy #deancas #digital art

[book-place-incorrect-quotes]

Y/N: Can I have more some candy, De?

Dean: What did Sam say?

Y/N: He said no

Dean: Then why would I say yes?

Y/N: Cause he’s not the boss of you

Dean: *internally* It’s a trap, it’s a trap, it’s a-

#supernatural incorrect quotes #spn incorrect quotes #supernatural #spn #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader platonic #dean winchester x sister reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x sister reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader platonic

[inlovewhithafairytale]

POV: Dating Dean Winchester....

#supernatural #castiel x dean #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #castiel novak #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural memes #supernatural family #supernatural fandom #spn #dean winchester x you #sam winchester fanfiction #sam and dean #sam winchester imagines

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Protector

Requested by @captaincvans

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

Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector

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

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

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

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

“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

So you stayed behind.

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The screaming stopped again.

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

“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“

“I think we’re done here.”

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

…

“We got a location.”

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

“Finally, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

“The plan is get her back.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean?”

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

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

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

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

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

Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.

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

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

Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.

“Alright, I’ll drive.”

…

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

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

“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”

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

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

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

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

You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.

“Dean, it’s not your fault.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Then say it.”

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

“It wasn’t my fault.”

…

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

“I’m ok,” you insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry,” he choked.

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

“I’m ok.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was your protector, always.

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

#dean winchester x you #the winchester brothers #dean winchester x reader #spn sam winchester #dean winchester #dean and sam #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x you #dean x reader #sam and dean #sam x sister!reader #supernatural sam #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural dean #supernatural

[older-sister-death-match]

QUARTERFINALS - MATCH 2

Propaganda Under The Cut:

GERARD WAY:

prettiest girl in the whole wide world

DEAN WINCHESTER:

i dont even have to explain this one do i

LILITH CLAWTHORNE:

ok she and eda are literally the most precious ever and yeah they are enemies for most of season one but they make up and lilith stops trying to capture her baby sister and instead takes on part of her curse and becomes the most aroace cool aunt historian bad girl of all time

#older sister death match #tumblr polls #fandom polls #polls #tournament polls #gerard way #my chemical romance #dean winchester #supernatural #lilith clawthorne #the owl house #you guys don't know how excited i am for the bloodbath that will ensue