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#winchester reader
marvelfanfn2187a113 · 5 months
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Abandon
Sam Winchester x little sister!reader, slight Dean Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by anonymous
Synopsis: you and Sam haven’t been the same since he left the for Ruby, but he has to fix it before it’s too late
Warnings: injury, death
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“Just talk to her.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Your brothers’ voices were the first thing you heard as you were pulled out of your deep sleep by the jostling of the dirt road beneath the Impala. You kept your eyes closed and your breathing steady, not wanting to alert them that you were awake.
“Just try,” Dean sighed.
“There’s nothing I can do if she won’t talk to me.”
“Maybe she just needs some time, Sam. I mean you did run off with a demon.”
“Dean, I’ve apologized for that a thousand times.”
Deciding you’d heard enough, you made a show of slowly “waking up”, stretching and yawning.
“Hey kid,” Sam turned in his seat to look at you, but you turned your attention to Dean.
“Are we almost there?”
“Probably another hour,” Dean replied, glancing at you through the rear view mirror.
“I think we should talk.” Sam kept his unflinching gaze on you.
“It’s quiet in here,” you said, ignoring Sam as you reached over the partition and turned on the radio.
“Y/N-“ Sam began, but you just turned the volume up before leaning back and looking out the window, tuning your brother out completely.
For the rest of the ride to the motel, no one even looked at each other.
“I’m gonna get us some food, both of you stay here.”
You tried to protest as Dean left the motel, but he completely ignored you, and you gave up as the door slammed behind him.
“So…” Sam began. In response, you yanked your headphones out of your backpack and put them in, cranking the music on your phone and closing your eyes as you leaned back against your bed.
Your plan lasted all of six seconds before Sam marched over and yanked your headphones away.
“Hey!” You protested, but Sam just held the headphones out of your reach and shook his head.
“We need to talk.”
“Fine.” Your jaw clenched. “Talk.”
“I know you’re angry with me,” Sam sighed. “And I get it, I really do, but—“
“You get it?” You scoffed. “No, no you don’t. Because when was the last time someone abandoned you? Never! Because it’s always you, Sam! You’re always the one that leaves, and I always get left behind.” You shook your head. “I understood when it was Stanford, ok? I knew how much you wanted out, and I was happy for you. But…” you felt your anger slipping into despair, and you fought to stop the change. “B-but Ruby? Dean was in hell, and-and you left me for a demon.”
“It wasn’t about Ruby—“ Sam began, but you shook your head again, harder this time as you struggled to keep your tears at bay.
“I don’t care why. Dean was gone, and I-I needed you, Sammy.” Sam’s heart ached as your voice cracked. “I needed you, and you just left.”
“And I’m so, so sor—“
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you choked out. “Can I please have my headphones back?”
Sam opened his mouth to speak before closing it again. He wordlessly handed you your headphones, before turning and walking out of the room.
“I thought you were watching her!”
“I was!” Sam insisted. “She was right next to me, that guy came out of—“
“Sam,” you groaned, and he stopped and twisted in the passenger’s seat of the Impala to look at you.
“Hey, hey just hang in there, ok?”
“I can’t get to a hospital,” Dean said, gritting his teeth. “There’s no time. Bobby’s is closer, we should be there soon.”
“Dean…” Sam was watching you squirm around in the back seat, which by now was covered in your blood.
“She’s gonna be fine,” Dean growled.
When you started to groan in pain, Sam climbed over the back of his seat so that he could be with you.
“Hey, I’m here,” he said with a forced smile as he reached down to press against your wound.
“Sammy,” you whimpered.
“Yeah, I know it hurts, I’m sorry kid.”
“No…Sammy…” Sam watched as you struggled to speak, to breathe.
“Hey, hey, deep breaths. Don’t try to talk, it’s ok. Just breathe.”
“Sam…” your hand gripped his with surprising strength. “I’m-I’m sorry Sammy.”
“What are you sorry for?” Sam felt tears spring up behind his eyes as he watched your breathing slow, and your hand started to weaken its grip.
“I love you,” you breathed. “I always have, I’m-I’m sorry—“ you broke off in a fit of coughs, but you started again quickly, as though you were afraid you’d run out of time. “I’m sorry for being so mad.”
“No, no,” Sam swallowed, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he tried to keep pressing down on your wound, which was still bleeding too much. “Don’t you apologize. I-I left you.” Sam’s voice cracked. “I left you, and you get to be as mad about that as you want, ok?”
“You came back.” You gave Sam a watery smile, and his heart constricted, like it couldn’t tell whether to be comforted or even more damaged. “That’s what—that’s what matt—“ you broke off into another fit of coughs, and Sam noticed Dean glancing back nervously.
“Ok, ok I get it,” Sam insisted. “I do. Thank you, sweetheart. I—“ Sam choked. “I love you too.”
Another one of those beautiful smiles, and this time Sam smiled back.
But then the smile seemed to freeze on your face, for just a second, before it dropped. You began to blink slowly, and Sam suddenly noticed that your stomach was no longer moving in those shallow breaths that you’d been taking.
“Sweetheart?” Sam breathed. “Y/N c’mon, stay with me, ok?”
You blinked one last time, and this time your eyes didn’t open again.
“Dean?” Sam croaked. “Dean, he-help…”
Sam’s voice trailed off. There was nothing Dean or he could do.
“Y/N?” Dean looked back from the front seat, his eyes wide. “Baby c’mon, open your eyes. Sam?” The last word came out in a desperate plea, but Sam could only stare at his big brother.
There was nothing they could do.
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yourmomxx · 9 months
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Father of Mine
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father of mine masterlist
summary: All Dean Winchester ever wanted was to protect the people he loved. Sometimes, in order to do that, he had to make hard decisions, Lisa and Ben were the prime example. Years after making another one of those hard decisions, he has to come back to the place where he had left a piece of his heart - only to be constantly reminded of what he had to sacrifice in order to keep his family safe.
warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural
word count: 8,2k
a/n: I’ve been writing this story for … a year now? I think? And I’ve gotta admit, I am so happy that it is finally out. Everything that I write means incredibly much to me, but this story just holds such a special place in my heart and I am very happy to share it now with you guys. I do hope you like it, and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated because that way the story gets spread to more people! Now, enjoy!
flashbacks are written in italics
pt1 pt2 pt3
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Cleveland, Ohio 2002
The bar was crowded with people.
Gruffed men wearing leather jackets and intoxicated women in crop-tops were all sprawled out around an alcohol booth in the middle.
In another corner, currently bathed in purple and orange spotlight, a guy with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and a bucket-hat was giving a lousy cover of ‘God save the Queen’ by Sex Pistols.
♫ ♪ “Don't be told what you want. Don't be told what you need. There's no future, no future, no future for you!” ♫ ♪
On one of the way too small bar chairs, sipping a burning mix of whiskey and ginger ale, was sitting Dean Winchester, and he was pissed.
Pissed at his stupid father, who was acting like Dean was a 15-year-old with no common sense whatsoever, pissed at the goddamn ghost that had found an incredible pleasure in almost ripping his fingers off his hands, and pissed at stupid Sam for just getting up one day and leaving him - didn’t matter if that had been months ago.
And with every drink that Dean downed, he started feeling more like “Dad can kiss my ass” instead of “Dad has been doing this much longer than you and just knows better”. Meaning, he should probably slow down.
But whatever.
His Dad could kiss his ass.
♫ ♪ “Oh when there's no future, how can there be sin? We're the flowers in the dustbin!” ♫ ♪
“Why, hello,” he suddenly heard a sweet voice next to him say.
Dean turned his head and was met face to face with friendly, glimmering eyes.
Those, just as the voice that had spoken to him, belonged to a young woman who seemed to have just appeared next to him.
He moved his gaze up and down her body.
Apart from her eyes, she had smooth skin, that was covered with glowing sweatpearls, most likely because of the stuffy air around them.
Or maybe, just like Dean, she had had a couple drinks too many.
A few, fine strands of her shoulder-length hair were tousled, likely from combing her hands through it.
He licked his lips. “Well, hello you. With whom do I have the pleasure?”
He was laying on thick and he knew that, but it’s not like he could care about it.
“Gloria. Richards.” She was speaking in a soft, honey voice, and Dean urged himself to focus on her face, and not the way her neck and chest were lightly gleaming from the thin layer of sweat covering them.
“What’s yours?”
Dean Winchester.
But no, that wasn’t his name. Not today at least. If he could just remember what was. And the drinks didn’t exactly make thinking easier.
“Dean Hansley.”
Gloria smiled again.
What a nice smile she had.
"Dean Hansley." She tasted the words, let them burn on her tongue. "That's a nice name."
And then she sat down at the stool next to him, without waiting for him to invite her, and she started talking.
And he talked back with her.
And time went by, and she kept finishing and ordering drinks, that Dean all offered to pay, and she never refused.
By now, the guy in the Hawaiian shirt had been thrown off the karaoke stage, after heavily throwing up into one of the other guest's handbags, halfway through a tedious ballad about life, and love, and its misery.
The only source of music was coming from the colorful jukebox next to the pool board.
A couple drunk-off-their-asses idiots, trying to play billiards, were loudly roaring along to AC/DC’s ‘You shook me all night long’.
♫ ♪ “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I ever seen!” ♫ ♪
Gloria was still sitting next to him, although a bit closer, and she was sipping at her third drink he had bought her tonight.
And damn, that girl had high tolerance.
Dean thought she was amazing.
“That thing with your family sucks, really.” She scrunched up her nose in slight discomfort.
Dean let out a humorless laugh and took a sip of the whiskey he was still stuck with. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
Yes, he had told her about his - family issues. But so what?
It felt nice having someone listening to him for a change. Someone who wasn’t his family, didn’t even know them, and wouldn’t try to disregard his frustration by telling him to ‘put himself in his father’s shoes for once’.
Gloria finished her drink and used the palm of her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.
Dean tried his best to not think too much about her knee touching his, her being so close him.
“The air in here is terrible,” she said, heavily emphasizing the last word.
Dean’s attention was turned to her again. He knew she had said something before that, but he hadn’t been able to catch it, too lost in his own mind.
He kind of felt bad for not listening to her.
Dean threw a look around.
“Yeah, it’s getting pretty hot in here,” he agreed, feeling pearls of sweat rolling off the little hairs on his neck.
Gloria looked directly into his eyes, then up his body, down his body, before settling on his eyes again.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Then her lip.
“I mean,” she slowly spoke, “we could continue this conversation somewhere else if you want. Where there’s not so many people and the air doesn’t taste like salt.”
♫ ♪ “You really took me and you shook me all night long! Ooh, you shook me all night long!” ♫ ♪
Hell yeah.
A boyish grin started forming on his face.
“An offer like that - how could I say no?”
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Now
“Read it again for me.”
Dean was staring straight ahead onto the road, his gaze hard and jaw clenched.
Sam sighed and opened the newspaper again, for what had to be the seventh time now since they had first found it.
They were both sitting in the Impala, Castiel in the backseat. The angel could have just flipped his wings and flown to the destination they were headed, but he had insisted to take the drive with them, claiming he had “nothing better to do anyway”.
“St. George, Louisiana,” Sam started to read.
“In the night of Wednesday to Thursday, a young man was found dead in his room in Saint George’s Children’s Home. The 17-year-old Roy Kendall hadn’t come out of his room the first half of the day, and when a woman of the working personnel - whose name has been withheld - came to check on him, she discovered his mutilated body draped out on the bed. According to the police, the young man’s rib cage had been compressed with such force that his ribs were broken and had managed to pierce through the young man’s internal organs, which resulted in him slowly bleeding out internally. Authorities are still in the dark about the exact details of the tragedy and the questions of “Why” and, particularly, “How” something like this could even be possible. The head of the Children’s Care Institution …, blah blah blah.”
Sam purposefully drifted off and ended his reading session therefore. He folded the newspaper back together and stuffed it into the Impala’s globe compartment.
“And that’s it, I am not reading this again. Next thing you know, I’m going to dream about squished organs and ribcages.”
He shuddered.
“I just don’t get it, man,” Dean said, ignoring his brother’s complaints, but he didn’t seem to address anyone in particular.
“I mean, I checked everything, Sammy. No demonic omens, no strategic killings, no recent disappearances. That place was all white picket fences and summer barbecues when we- ”
He was quick to cut himself off.
Sam threw his brother a side glance, but decided to not address his slip-up.
“Well, Dean, sometimes monsters just … turn up, you know.” This time Sam turned his head to get a proper look at his older brother.
“Maybe it’s just passing through, or simply moved there from somewhere else. They aren’t exactly tied to a specific place.”
Dean ran his hand over his face and through his hair in distress. “Out of all places, why there?” He muttered in a low tone.
And again, he was more talking to himself than anyone else.
“I don’t understand.” Cas was suddenly talking from the back seat. “What is in this Children’s Home that is of so much importance to you both?”
Dean was quick to answer a “Nothing,” but Castiel didn’t quite believe him.
Sam turned in his seat to face the angel.
“We were working a case near there a while back,” he simply explained.
Cas frowned, still not quite convinced, but he decided to let the topic rest. For now, at least.
“I understand,” he said. “Then it would probably be of benefit for you to stick with your past aliases. Just in case anyone there should recognize you.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” Dean vaguely answered, but he seemed trapped deep in his own thoughts.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Black Hawk, Colorado 2002
“To listen to this voicemail, call-”
A dial tone sounded. The message was a few months old.
“Hey, Dean, it’s uh … it’s Gloria. You know, Gloria Richards, from a few nights ago?” A humorless chuckle was heard on the other end of the line.
“Though, guys like you don’t usually remember their casual one-night hookups. So I’ll cut straight to the chase.” One heavy inhale.
“I’m pregnant. And I know the chances of you wanting anything to do with me are zero to negative six, but I just wanted to-”
“To delete this voicemail, press 2.”
A tone.
“Voicemail deleted.”
“To listen to this voicema-”
The woman on the other end sounded more outraged this time, even though occasional cracks or hiccups in her voice gave away that she had been heavily crying moments before. Maybe still was.
“Hello Dean, it’s me again. You know, I didn’t expect you to jump up high at the news, but ignoring me?” She scoffed. “That’s a different type of low.”
She sniffled. “I’m just calling to tell you I’ve decided to keep the baby. So you can still change your mind, if you-”
“To delete this voicemail, press-” “Voicemail deleted.”
“To listen to th-”
“Hello, Dean. It’s Gloria. Again.”
This time, she seemed calmer, which could be reasoned with the tiredness her voice was radiating.
“I suppose I’m still kind of hoping that you will call me back. Or even pick up.” She sighed.
“I wanted to tell you that she’s perfectly healthy and growing. That’s right. She. Our baby is going to be a-”
“To delete this-” ”Voicemail deleted.”
John Winchester stared at the small phone in his hand and pressed a button.
“You have no more voicemails.”
That moment, Dean came bursting into the motel room, looking around the empty shelves and patting up and down his jacket- and jeans-pockets.
“Hey Dad, do you know where my phone is? I heard it ringing,” Dean asked.
“Yes, just some spam-callers,” John neatly lied. “I took care of it, but I’m gonna put it out of service, just in case.”
Dean looked at him and for a moment, John thought his son would grow suspicious, but he just nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Dad.”
John nodded and Dean left the room with his bag in hand. When he was certain Dean wouldn’t come back, John took the phone apart and crashed the SIM Card on the nightstand with the lamp.
Then he put the pieces in the bin, took his duffel bag and followed his son to the car.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Now
The St. George’s Children’s Home was somewhat of a small castle, kept in a renaissance style.
Around a large courtyard, archways connected four round-towers, which were slightly higher than the rest of the castle. The walls were painted a pale yellow.
Trees grew in the gardens around the castle, flowers in planted beds, and as far as Dean could remember, there was a hedge maze behind the walls, not visible from the gateway.
They had parked the Impala in one of the parking spaces next to the tall, elegant terrain fence.
Sam and Dean were wearing black suits and their fake badges, Castiel - as always - stuck with the trench coat.
Dean was eyeing the building suspiciously.
In fact, he had been doing so for the last three minutes, in which they had all sat in the Impala in complete silence.
Sam threw a quick, concerned glance at his brother before clearing his throat.
“You really wanna do this?”, he asked quietly.
“No,” Dean answered and opened the car door, “But it’s not like we have a choice, right?”
Sam sighed and did the same, not before exchanging a quick, apprehensive look with Castiel, who still didn’t quite know what was going on.
The castle’s inside was considerably more modern than its outside.
With brightly-colored walls and furniture, and minimalistic decorations all over.
It seemed cozy.
They were headed for the office of the youth center’s director, Maria Whitlock. Dean remembered exactly where that was. Down the hall, left. Past a few closed bedroom doors. Last door at the end of the corridor.
Dean cleared his throat and knocked on the door, Sam right behind him. Castiel had left before they had entered the castle, claiming to look for a suitable Motel nearby, and telling them to contact him if they needed his help.
There was a beat of silence before they heard a woman’s voice reply “Yes?” and entered the office.
Maria Whitlock was an elderly woman, with dark red hair that she kept in a low bun. She was around a head smaller than Dean, and wearing a grey blouse combined with a wine red jacket and a black pencil skirt.
When she heard them enter the room, she looked up from a few papers she was filing, and her face immediately fell.
“Hello, Maria.” Sam greeted her.
“Dean and Sam Winchester,” she breathed out, startled.
“I never thought I would see you two again.”
Dean felt a sting in his chest.
“Yeah, well,” Sam said and tried a clumsy smile. A heavy silence followed, and Dean shifted uncomfortably.
Maria frowned. “Not to seem impolite, but what are the two of you doing here?” She asked.
Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.
“We, uhm, we heard about Roy and we thought that, maybe, we should just check if everything was alright and, of course, speak our condolences. You know, for old time’s sake.”
She nodded and closed the pen. “Yes, right. Roy. I completely forgot that they put that in the paper.”
A look of dark grief fell over her face and her gaze drifted into nothingness. She suddenly looked much older than she was.
Dean cleared his throat. “I gave you my number, Maria,” he spoke. “If you would’ve called, we could’ve been here sooner.”
She blinked rapidly, pulling herself out of her thoughts and looked at him for a second before she replied.
“I know, I know, but to be honest - it slipped my mind, in between all of this … chaos and tragedy.”
While she was talking, she got up from her chair and walked around the table, getting a clearer view at Sam and Dean.
“Of course,” Sam hastily said. “No worries. We are very sorry for your loss.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Dean was glad that it had been Sam who had spoken up. He wasn’t very good at that sort of things. Nor did he aspire to be.
“You said you were here because of Roy’s …. passing,” Maria continued, and the brothers nodded.
“But that would mean that this was some sort of - unnatural incident.”
Sam swallowed hard.
“Well,” he started, trying to find the right words that would not trigger a breakdown for the woman, “we saw the article in the newspaper and thought that we would just have a look at it. The circumstances of Roy’s passing aren’t exactly common for a person his age, after all.”
Or for any person, really.
She nodded lazily. “Yes. I suppose you are right.”
Dean could swear that another minute of awkward silence between them would probably kill him, so he took it upon himself to prevent it before it started.
“I get that this is hard, Maria,” he said, “But if we could maybe ask you some questions? Maybe speak to the person that found him?”
She sniffled.
Oh dear God.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Her voice was a bit higher than before, and her hands grabbed for a handkerchief lying on the table.
“Uhm, the woman who found him was one of my responsible supervisors, Betty Langston. She should be present in the building today, but the last time I spoke to her, she was still pretty shaken up. I mean, who can blame her? I can’t even imagine what it must have been like, seeing that poor boy lying on his bed, just- ”
She broke off and a sob escaped her lips, before she buried her face in the kerchief.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m sorry, it’s just - he was such a kind boy. He had his whole life ahead of him. And the way that he had to go…”
She raised her head and shook it, eyes reddened and filled with tears.
“I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”
“We understand, Maria,” Sam spoke in a comforting, low voice.
And Dean added, “And I promise we will find whatever did this and make sure this happens to no one ever again.”
She forced herself to a smile.
“Thank you, boys. May the angels be with you.”
Dean forbid himself a snort.
“Thank you for your time, Maria. We will let you know when we know more,” Sam said and left the office.
He wouldn’t risk making her cry again by bothering her with questions about her dead fosterling.
Dean smiled at Maria and turned to follow his brother, but she stopped him.
“Dean.”
He turned to face her.
“You do know that it won’t be possible for you to investigate here, without … encountering a certain someone.”
Dean straightened his shoulders.
“Yes, I know.”
“Have you thought about it? What you will say to her?”
“Gotta admit, I haven’t.”
She hummed and nodded. Dean noticed that she had resumed her usual upright position, and if he hadn’t just witnessed it, he probably would not know that she had been crying.
“I should warn you,” she said gently, “It probably won’t be easy.”
“I honestly didn’t expect it to be.”
She smiled a gentle smile at him and he returned it, before finally leaving the room and joining his brother in the hallway.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Lewiston, Michigan 2004
The first time he had read it, John Winchester had been drunk. He had spared a quick glance at it after coming home from a bar, before throwing himself onto the motel bed and passing out.
The second time he had read it, he had been sober, but suffering from a skull-splitting headache.
The third time he read it, it was simply to make sure his hungover mind wasn’t making any of this up. But no, the words on the newspaper stayed the same, grinning up at him with a sickening smirk that made his stomach turn.
In the small corner of the left page, where the lesser important news were usually placed, throned the bold-printed, black words:
24-year-old woman dies in tragic car accident, leaves 1-year-old daughter behind
No. God, no.
He read it again. Read the headline, read the article, the name that had been shortened but to him unmistakable: Gloria R.
R. Just like Richards. Gloria Richards.
There was a picture placed right next to the text, held in color, of a young woman that was clearly putting on a smile for the camera.
John slammed the newspaper on the round table.
“Damn it!” He yelled.
And in that moment, John was grateful that Dean had offered to go on a coffee run.
He was ‘going on a quick hunt’. That’s what he told Dean.
He was ‘going on a quick hunt and if anyone needed anything, they should contact Dean’. That’s what he told Bobby. And everyone that reached his voicemail.
Cleveland, Ohio. That’s where he was going. He had some business to attend to.
Central Nebraska
To say that Ellen Harvelle wasn’t delighted about John Winchester showing up inside the Roadhouse would be quite an understatement.
She was furious.
John paid attention to enter the wooden cabin carefully. He didn’t expect Ellen to be pleased by his sudden presence, especially considering their last encounter with each other.
It was a random Wednesday afternoon, and there wasn’t anyone seated in the Roadhouse, except for Ellen herself, who was busy cleaning the bar with a half-wet kitchen towel.
The brunette woman looked up for a quick second, as a form of formality, before she dedicated her attention back onto the dirty surface.
“I’ll be with you in a secon-” Then she realized. Stopped. Did a double take.
“Winchester.” The word was dripping from her lips with loathing.
“Hello, Ellen,” he started, but she cut him off.
“What do you want?” Her question was blunt and her tone cold and unwelcoming.
John cleared his throat and stepped from one foot to the other. He had to sell his story good, if Ellen wouldn’t get on board with his proposition, he had nobody else to go to.
“Look, Ellen. I get that you’re mad- ”
“Mad?” She let out a short, sour laugh.
“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling towards you, Winchester. Try hatred. Pure disgust.” She scoffed again.
“You must have a death wish, because I couldn’t think of any other possible reason why you would drag your dumbass out here again. ”
John swallowed hard. She was right. Who was he to just show up here again? After what happened?
But there was no turning back now, he had to go through with this.
“You’re right.” He spoke in a low tone to try and seem less intimidating and also attempt to soothe her temper towards him.
“I am sorry about what happened, Ellen. If I could go back and do it any different, then I would.”
A lie. She knew that. He knew that she knew that. Still - she didn’t interrupt, just kept glaring at him, so he decided to continue.
“But unfortunately, I can’t. And I know you have every right and reason to hate me now.”
Agreeing and empathizing with her.
“But there is something extremely important that I need to ask of you.”
Again, he didn’t have much time to talk, before Ellen raised her voice.
“You damned son of a bitch!”, she yelled, tossing the kitchen towel onto the counter with such force, the leftover water splashed around.
“You ain’t got no right walking in here, after what you pulled, and ask a goddamned favor of me!”
Her voice was loud in the silence of the Roadhouse and John lifted his hands up in defense.
“Ellen, please! Listen to me!”, he pleaded. Ellen wasn’t yelling at him anymore, but her jaw was still clenched and her entire body tense.
“I wouldn’t be here if I had any other options. Like you said, I must have a Deathwish to show up here. And I understand that. But you are the only person that I can trust with this. You can toss me out all you want after. You can yell, and scream, and punch me, and shoot at me. Just please, hear me out first. ”
There was silence, where John just stood there, his hands still raised in the air in front of him, and Ellen grinding her teeth as she thought about what to do now.
Because by God, did she hate him. And a part of her wanted to take a rifle and first shoot a bullet into his feet and then his di-
But on the other hand, she could not recall a time that John Winchester had ever gotten himself into a position to beg.
No, he was too proud for that. So whatever he wanted must be goddamn important for him, really.
“Tell me what you need, Winchester,” Ellen said eventually, “And let me decide afterwards.”
Her body language didn’t show one sign of hospitality still, but John interpreted her words as somewhat of a good sign.
Hopefully.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Now
After their talk with Maria, Sam and Dean settled on questioning Betty Langston.
In the middle of the wall in the entrance hall, a big frame with the pictures, names and duties of the working staff was hung up.
Above the name ‘Betty Langston’ was a picture of a friendly looking woman in her mid-twenties, with a pointed nose and blonde strands of hair framing her face.
Underneath, the duties “Social Worker” and “Deputy Manager” were listed.
When they knocked on the door which was labeled “staff”, a young man opened and told them that Betty Langston was currently positioned on the second floor.
Dean wanted to take the elevator, but Sam dragged him up the stairs.
“It will be faster,” he guaranteed, and Dean just rolled his eyes with a groan.
The hallways on the second floor were surprisingly wide, with doors placed across each other in a zig zag pattern.
Here and there were a few paintings on the walls, old and new, and green neon signs pointing toward the emergency exit.
They met Betty after they turned around the first corner. She stood in front of a pinboard and was currently hanging up new posters.
Her hair was different from the picture, slightly longer now ending halfway down her back, and copper colored with only a few blonde highlights.
The brothers made their way over to her and flashed their fake FBI-badges when she let off her work and shifted her attention to them.
“Hello, my name is David Shields, my partner’s name is Jarvis Stark,” introduced Dean. “Are you Betty Langston?”
The young woman gaped at them, slightly caught off guard. “Uhm yes, that’s me,” she eventually got out and lowered her arms. “What can I do for you?”
Dean caught a glimpse of the writing on the poster. It was a few phone numbers, and in dark blue, a text above read: ‘DON’T HESITATE TO ASK FOR HELP!’
“We’re here to ask you about Roy Kendall,” Sam carefully approached, “We understand that you are the one who found him.”
Dean couldn’t help but notice how Betty Langston’s eyes shifted to the floor and she nervously trailed her fingers up and down the paper in her hand.
“Um yes, I … I found him.” Her voice got small and she swallowed hard.
“But what does the FBI want with that? I thought it was a wild animal.”
“Given the unusual occurrence of Roy’s death, we thought it necessary to at least have a look at this case and find out what we can,” Sam said.
“That doesn’t have to mean anything, though,” Dean quickly tried to soothe her when he noticed the tears springing in the woman’s eyes. “Exactly,” Sam hastily agreed. “Only a few questions, just in case.”
Betty nodded and blinked away her tears. “Okay,” she quietly said. Sam reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his notebook and a pen.
“Did Roy mention something … I don’t know, unusual before he died?” Sam asked, clicking the pen and bringing his notepad in position. The young woman hesitated.
“Well, not that I know of,” she eventually said, “But, you see, kids at that age … they don’t talk to us adults much anymore. If you want to know something about Roy, you better ask his friends.”
Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “His friends?” He repeated. She nodded. “Mhm.”
“And, uh - who are his friends, if I may ask?” Sam tuned in again. Betty thought for a second and then clicked her tongue. “Well, there’s Cassandra, Cassandra Claire,” she said and started counting the listed names on her fingers. “And, uhm, Finnegan Beckett.” Sam repeated the children’s names under his breath as he quickly wrote them down.
“And Y/N Winchester,” Betty finished.
Sam abruptly stopped writing at the ‘n’ and looked up. He felt Dean visibly tense and shift next to him.
The younger brother just put on a smile and folded the small notepad back into the inner pocket of his jacket. But not before completely writing out the last name on the list.
“Thank you so much, Miss Langston, you helped us a lot. We will let you know if there are any more questions. And, our condolences,” he added.
She shyly smiled back at him and slowly continued gathering thumbtacks to hang up her posters, and the brothers left.
Sam waited until they were out of hearing range, then turned to Dean. “So…that was something,” he carefully started.
“What do you mean?”
Sam threw him a look. “You know what I mean. The witness list. Roy’s friends. That last name…”
Dean sighed heavily. Sam waited for him to say something. And when he didn’t, Sam just shook his head but decided to not stress it any further.
“So, where to now?” He asked instead.
Dean took a look at his watch. “The morgue, I’d say. As far as I know they’re closing soon, and a dead body is not exactly the first thing I need to see in the morning, so-”
Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”
They made their way out of the castle.
“You want to take Castiel?” Sam questioned when he rounded the car.
“No,” Dean decided firmly and opened the driver’s door. “Remember what happened last time? Exactly. I don’t need Cas smelling some dead guy again.”
Sam grinned at the memory. With a creak, the Impala gave in to their weight as they sat down, and the gravel gnashed under her tires when they drove off.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Central Nebraska 2006
Roughly, the dark minivan tuckered over the bumpy earth of the pathetic excuse of a road, and Dean’s insides flinched with every squeak the old car made.
When they finally came to a stop, he tossed the keys somewhere and maybe slammed the door with a bit more force than necessary. A lot more.
“This is humiliating,” he grumbled, as he took in the atrocious excuse of a vehicle they just stepped out of. He missed his Baby.
Sam ignored him, and stepped forward, towards the old wooden – house? Shack? – the mysterious phone number on their dad’s cell had led them to.
The huge letters ROADHOUSE flaunted above them, and Dean thought that these were probably made to light up when the sun disappeared.
The rest of the house looked abandoned, frankly, from the outside, and that, in combination with the four-month-old voicemail, made Dean not like his odds very much. The chances that this Ellen chick was still alive, knowing what his father had needed her for, were slim in his mind.
Or hell, maybe she just called from here, got the phone from some rando, and got on her merry way when she realized John wasn’t calling back. It’s probably what he would’ve done.
Safe to say, Dean didn’t like their odds. Even less so when they entered the eerie quiet of the bar, and spotted a man lying unconscious, probably dead, on the pool table.
Dean felt his shoulders stiffen. He didn’t like this one bit, and every second he spent here made the alarm in his head shrill even louder than before.
Dean only just turned to take a closer look at one of the shelves, when he felt something hard dig into his lower back, and heard an all too familiar clicking sound.
Dean closed his eyes. “Please tell me that is a gun.”
“No, I’m just very happy to see you,” came the fast answer from a very snarking - and female? - voice.
In one swift motion, Dean whirled around, grabbed the barrel, ripped it out of his attacker’s hand, and uncocked it. The bullet fell to the ground with an echoing clatter.
Dean almost smirked triumphantly at the blonde girl in front of him, when he felt a sudden, blinding pain in his face.
And if Dean had thought pulling up in a 30-year-old, barely functional van, of all things was humiliating, he didn’t calculate how it would feel to be absolutely sucker punched by a girl, not even as old as him.
Aside from the obvious nosebleed, his ego took a severe bruise.
“Sam! Little help here!” He called, hand still holding his hurting face.
The door swung open, and Sam walked out, hands raised to his head, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry Dean,” he said, “I’m a little tied up right now.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, as he watched another woman with dark brown hair follow his brother close behind, a revolver held to his head in fair warning.
He would be impressed, if his vision wasn’t swimming right now.
The older woman behind Sam furrowed her brows. “Wait, Sam? Dean?” She asked, exchanging looks with kick-ass Blondie in front of him. “Winchester?”
There was a beat, before the brothers pressed out a unison “Yeah?”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Mom, you know these guys?” Dean’s head hurt with how much he was swinging it around to keep up.
“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” And that made Dean perk up.
The woman let out a laugh as she lowered her weapon.
A few minutes later, Dean was served with an iced cloth for his nose, and he and Sam seated themselves on a few of the bystanding bar chairs.
The brunette woman, who had threatened Sam, turned out to be the mysterious Ellen, whose voicemail on their dad’s phone they followed here. Jo, her daughter, and also the kick-ass blonde that had held the rifle to Dean’s back, looked about as unknowing about the whole situation as the brothers did.
Turns out Ellen had contacted John about the demon he was hunting. Said she could help him with it. Why John had never mentioned her, or her daughter, she didn’t say. Told them to ask him themselves. Dean didn’t say anything to that.
“So why exactly do we need your help?”, Dean asked, repositioning the cloth on his face.
Ellen scoffed. “Hey, don’t do me any favors. If you don’t want my help, fine.” There was a snarking edge to her voice, and Dean started to realize why his father would associate with her.
“Don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out,” she continued. “But John wouldn’t have sent you, if–“
There it was.
Ellen stood straighter. A haunted look crossed her eyes. “He didn’t send you.” It wasn’t a question.
Dean looked away.
“He’s alright, isn’t he?” Dean hadn’t known Ellen Harvelle for very long, but even he could sense the way her voice wavered. And know that she was a smart enough woman to not truly believe what she was asking.
“No.” Sam cleared his throat, and the simple word echoed through the deafening silence. “No, he’s not. We think the demon did it. Got to him before he got to it.” The thankful feeling of not being the one to have to tell her what happened felt like a sin in Dean’s gut. Then again, what’s one more on his plate.
“I’m sorry,” Ellen said. It’s what everyone said.
“It’s alright. We’re good.”
Ellen didn’t believe him, he saw it in her eyes. But she didn’t bother him more about it, either.
“So, look, if you can help us,” Sam said, and Dean threw him a look that showed just how much he wanted to smack his little brother across the face, “we’d be real happy about all the help we can get.”
Ellen’s lips twisted. “We can’t help you.”
Is this lady for real-
“But he can.”
And then the dead man stood up from the pool table.
Ash was a tech freak, with a haircut like Billy Ray Cyrus and the mouth of a southern cowboy. Jo called him a genius. Dean didn’t know what to think of that.
Still, he had passed him their dad’s journal, told him to go nuts, and Ash had drooled over John Winchester’s handiwork like a child over a lollipop.
Ash had left with the journal and the promise of new information in the time of fifty-one hours.
Dean thought that was long enough time to take a drink.
Jo Harvelle was a pretty woman. When she wasn’t threatening him with a rifle or punching him in the face, that was. Her soft, blonde curls fell long over her shoulders, and those jeans did wonders to her curves.
Dean started conversing with her. While he had moved to one of the tables, Sam had stayed with Ellen at the bar. He found out that her father died, a long time ago. In the back of his mind, a mean voice cackled at the irony. He paid his sympathies.
Then, suddenly, one of the doors to the backrooms flew open, and a small whirlwind of colorful fabric and y/h/c hair came dashing into the room.
“Aunty Ellen, Aunty Ellen! Look what I made!”
Dean’s head whipped around at the sound of the high-pitched voice and he spotted a small girl, not older than five years probably, squeezing herself behind the bar table. When he noticed Ellen bowing her head, he figured that the little girl had probably reached her destined spot next to her.
Dean, though he would never admit it, was an easily curious person, so he followed Jo on her way to the bar and leaned slightly over the tablewood to catch a glimpse at the small intruder.
Little Lady was tugging at Ellen’s pantleg, and expectantly holding up a colored paper for her to look at.
“Look at what I drew, Auntie Ellen!” she repeated, in that same excited tone as before, when she had stormed into the room.
Dean watched as Ellen abandoned her washcloth somewhere behind her and crouched down to meet with the little girl eye-to-eye, as she inspected her drawing.
“That’s so amazing, baby, is that us?” The girl nodded, her pigtails wiggling up and down as she bopped her head enthusiastically.
“Yes, that is you, and that is Jo, and that is me. And look, I made my own fingerprint!” She dashed her finger into a spot on the paper, and then proudly held up the red-colored tip to shove it in Ellen’s face.
The woman had a wide, genuine smile on her face. “I can see that, baby, well done, it looks so nice!” She praised. “How about we hang it up there next to the menu?”
The girl nodded her head again, and let Ellen scoop her up gently. Only then, when Little Lady was at height with them, she seemed to notice the strangers standing in the room.
In the matter of a second, Dean saw her whole demeanor shift from bubbly and open, to a more closed off version, sinking further into Ellen’s embrace and clutching the fabrics of her shirt. Something about it made Dean’s heart sting.
“Auntie Ellen?” The girl tried to whisper, but Dean had learned soon that children were terrible whisperers, “Who is that?”
Ellen looked first to Sam, then Dean, and back at the little girl in her arms. “Those are friends of Jo and me, sweetheart. Their names are Sam-“ Dean’s little brother gave a wave and a smile when Ellen introduced him. “-and Dean.”
Dean grinned and carefully stretched his hand out. “Very nice to meet you, Little Lady. Who am I speaking to, may I ask?” He laid a formal accent on his voice, one that he knew had always made Sam laugh when he was a child. It was an olive branch, but something in him hoped she would grab it.
The small giggle that Little Lady let out made Dean’s heart bloom with a warmth he didn’t know he was able to feel.
“My name’s Y/N,” she said. With a pointed look at Dean’s still outstretched hand, Ellen murmured in her ear, “And what do we do when someone gives us their hand to shake?”
Y/N nuzzled her face into the crook of Ellen’s neck, and Dean almost drew his hand back again, when a small warmth settled into his palm and closed around it.
He smiled at the girl and shook her hand. As they both pulled back, Dean twisted his hand around and huffed. “Ouff, someone has got a firm grip! Your Auntie Ellen teach you that?” Y/N grinned proudly at him and nodded her head. Then she held up her hand and showed him four fingers. “I’m already this old!”
Dean gasped. “Really? Well, that is a great age, no wonder you are so strong!”
Y/N was beaming now.
She didn’t hide in Ellen’s neck again.
“So, what about that picture now?” Ellen bounced the girl on her hip once, and it seemed like she was snapped out of a trance. Determinedly, she pointed at a space next to a hung-up blackboard. Dean figured Ellen usually wrote her daily specials on that.
The woman made a few steps over where Y/N had led her and gestured toward an already hung drawing of blue water and grey – fish? – above it, that was already taped to the wall.
“But we already put a picture there. We would have to remove that one if you want your new drawing to hang here.” The girl shrugged, and already reached for a roll of clean tape on the shelf.
“That’s okay, I don’t like dolphins all that much anymore anyway,” she explained nonchalantly. “I will just put it in my drawing box.”
Dean watched as Ellen carefully picked the old drawing from the wall to make space for the new one. He was so caught up in the scenery, he almost didn’t notice how Sam was scooting closer to him.
“You know who she is?” Sam asked. Dean turned his attention to his brother.
“Well, her name’s Y/N,” Dean answered simply. Sam didn’t roll his eyes at him, but it was a close call.
Dean just shrugged. “Guess she isn’t Ellen’s. Otherwise, she wouldn’t call her Auntie.” He pitched the last word high, to mimic the child’s voice.
Sam furrowed his brows as they watched Ellen and the small girl.
“Makes you wonder,” he said, “What she’s doing here.”
Dean just hummed. He made brief eye contact with Y/N, as she stole a look in his direction, but she averted her eyes quickly, as if she had been caught.
Dean found himself slightly smiling.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sam looking at him. His brother was grinning.
“You love that kid.” It was a statement.
Dean scoffed. “Oh, shut up, I don’t even know her. Also, I love kids, plural.” He added.
Sam nodded, that smile still on his lips. Dean ignored him.
“Come on, ask him. Don’t be shy.” Ellen and Y/N had finished putting up her drawing and were now standing closer to them again. Ellen was still carrying the girl on her hip and had bent down to whisper to her.
Y/N had buried her face in Ellen’s shirt again, clearly shy to say something.
“He ain’t gonna bite you,” Ellen said, nudging her. “Go on.”
Y/N lifted her head, and shyly looked at Dean. Her eyes were flickering all over him, but never exactly to his face.
“Doyouwantodrawwithme?” She spluttered. Dean’s eyebrows shot up.
“Don’t think he understood that. Try a bit slower. You can do this, come on,” Ellen encouraged her.
Y/N clutched her shirt.
“Do you want to draw with me?” She asked, head lowered and looking at her fingers. Her voice was quiet, but to Dean it felt as if she had shouted that sentence.
He felt warm inside. “Of course I want to.”
Y/N’s head shot up, and Dean Winchester had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime, but the gleaming eyes of that small child before him had to be at the top of the list. He never wanted to look at anything else.
Ellen set her down and pointed at a table in the corner of the room.
“Her colors and paper are already set up. Every day, before we officially open,” she explained with a look at Dean, and he nodded. While Sam got comfortable on one of the bar chairs, he made his way over to where Y/N had already set up her coloring tools and begun drawing on a piece of yellow paper.
Her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Dean pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.
“What are you drawing?” He asked, stretching his neck to take a closer look. Y/N leaned back and showed him her creation. Lines of red and yellow. Maybe a tomato? An apple? He turned his head. From that perspective maybe?
“It’s Lighting McQueen!” Y/N told him triumphantly. “I saw cars with Jo.”
Dean nodded. So no apple. He also wasn’t going to point out the girl’s grammar. She was only four after all. And who was he to talk.
“How did you get that?” Y/N suddenly asked, and pointed her small finger at Dean’s forehead, right where a big scar stretched over his skin, consequences of the fatal car accident.
Dean tried his best not to wince. He didn’t need to expose his lingering trauma to this pure soul.
“I was … in an accident,” he said instead. “But I’m okay and it’s almost healed now.”
The girl nodded. Dean was almost astounded at how easy it was with her.
“Whenever I hurt myself, my Auntie Ellen takes me to the Doctor. Or Jo. Or Ash.” Her face scrunches up as she thinks hard. Dean thinks it’s adorable. He finds himself smiling again.
“They always give me colorful plasters! I always get the dinos.” She leans in closer to him when she says the last bit, almost like it’s a secret she only wants him to hear. Dean’s heart warms at the thought, and he doesn’t even know why.
“Really? I’m jealous. I think dinosaurs are amazing.” He used the same hushed tone she had before. Y/N’s eyes widened. “You don’t get dino plasters?” She asked. If Dean hadn’t known better, he would’ve said she was outraged at his confession.
He shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “only boring beige ones.”
Y/N’s eyes widened even more, and her mouth fell open. Then, her lips curved into a beaming smile. “I can give you some of mine! Jo bought me so many the last time she went shopping!”
Before he could even give it a thought, Dean felt her small hand take his, and he was yanked from his seat. Geez, how did a four-year-old kid have so much strength?
His enthusiasm was short-lived, as Sam shouted from the other side of the room.
“Dean, Ellen got us a case!” His little brother was waving around a beige folder, a few newspaper pages hanging out at the sides.
He looked at his brother, then at the girl still clinging her small hand around his fingers.
“Does that mean you have to leave?” Dean’s heart clenched at the quiet, disappointed voice. He crouched down and looked Y/N in the eye.
“Yes,” he said, honestly. “ I have to go to work.”
She tilted her head. “To save people?” She asked. Dean nodded. He didn’t know how she knew, but maybe Ellen told her.
“Yes, exactly. But I will be back soon, and then you can show me your plasters, alright?”
Y/N seemed to think about it, and then nodded her head. Her pigtails were still wiggling up and down. “You promise?” She asked.
Dean nodded. “In fact,” he said, shifted his weight, and held out his pinky finger in front of her. “I pinky promise.”
Y/N grinned up at him. Dean grinned back. She linked her small finger with his.
“Can’t break a pinky promise,” Dean said as he stood up.
She shook her head violently. “Never!”
Dean laughed and waved her Goodbye.
“Let’s go,” he said to Sam as he passed him, and grabbed his jacket.
“Bye, Ellen, Jo.” Sam lowered his voice seriously. “Y/N.”
“Bye, Sam! Bye, Dean!” Y/N waved her hand after them.
“Good luck,” Ellen said. Then they closed the door behind them. The light of the sun was a heavy contrast to the dusky air inside the Roadhouse, and Dean’s eyes needed a while to adjust to the change.
He made his way over to the abomination car, Sam close next to him. His brother bumped his shoulder.
“Plural, huh?” Sam asked, smirking.
And if Dean sped the van up a bit faster, just to give his little brother a good scare now and then, well, that was between him and the Lord above.
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superlunar-eclipse · 2 months
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Girl! I need more FBI Winchester!Sister reader stories! I hope that becomes a series 😩😩
🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ COMFORT IN SOLITUDE
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SUMMARY: After a tough case, Y/N and Dean retreat to separate motel rooms. Sensing Dean's distress, Y/N finds him at her door, visibly upset. She comforts him, calming him down. Despite their tough lifestyle, Dean finds peace in his big sister, Y/N.
WARNINGS: angst? blood and mentions of alcohol. (lmk if i missed any)
RELATIONSHIPS: dean winchester x Y/N winchester and mentions of sam winchester x Y/N winchester.
WORD COUNT: 878 words
AUTHORS NOTE: thank you for being my first request, i am will now be considering of making this into a series! Y/N is mentioned to had studied human behavior and emotions in college.
MASTERLIST 💫
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The case they had worked on tonight had been mentally and physically taxing. A devastating amount of innocent lives had been prematurely extinguished due to the reckless choices of theirs. The weight of responsibility hung heavy upon their shoulders, and the somber mood permeated the car ride back to the motel.
A silent consensus was reached between them; they were simply too drained to embark on the journey back to the bunker. Their bodies were smeared in a morbid mix of their own blood and that of those they had been unable to save. They could hardly muster the energy to clean themselves up before collapsing into the worn leather seats of the Impala.
Upon arrival at the motel, they opted for separate rooms. Normally, if only two beds were available, Y/N would willingly relinquish hers to sleep on the couch while Sam and Dean took the beds. However, this time, Sam had stayed behind to delve into research, and both Dean and Y/N felt a strong desire for solitude.
Y/N dropped her heavy bag onto the threadbare motel carpet and rummaged through it for her night clothes. She trudged to the bathroom, her head hanging low, burdened by the night's events.
She shed her blood-soaked clothes and stepped into the shower. She stood motionless, watching as the scarlet stains swirled away down the drain. After changing into fresh clothes, she sank onto the couch, her body heavy with exhaustion. She heaved a sigh and closed her eyes, endeavoring to banish the haunting memories of the case from her mind.
In the silence of her room, Y/N became acutely aware that she should go and check on Dean. She knew the case had struck a particularly painful chord with him.
Both Dean and Y/N were alike in their habitual reluctance to open up about their feelings, but their coping mechanisms differed greatly. Dean often sought solace in alcohol, sometimes to the point of passing out, despite Y/N's repeated warnings that it was an unhealthy way to deal with his emotions.
Y/N, on the other hand, preferred to avoid sleep, choosing instead to distract herself with research. She poured over texts about demons, vampires, ghouls, ghosts, shapeshifters and other creatures they might need to hunt in the future.
Having studied human behavior and emotions extensively in college, Y/N was adept at masking her feelings. However, tonight, she decided to reach out to Dean. She opened her motel room door, only to be taken aback by the sight of Dean standing there.
He looked vulnerable, his hands fidgeting nervously and his head hung low. Y/N could tell that he had been crying. She silently ushered him into her room.
They sat on the couch in silence for a few heartbeats before Y/N began to speak. But before she could get a word out, Dean cut her off. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder, his body wracked with sobs.
Y/N offered Dean the comfort he needed, setting aside her own feelings for now, holding him close and murmuring soothing words until his breathing slowly returned to normal. She tenderly kissed his forehead and wiped away his tears.
"Goodnight, Dean," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. No matter what horrors they had to face, he could always find solace in his big sister.
As the quiet of the night deepened, Y/N found herself unable to leave the couch. Dean's head rested heavily on her lap, his steady breathing a testament to the exhaustion that had finally claimed him. His slumber was a stark contrast to the turmoil they had endured earlier, and Y/N took solace in the peace that sleep had granted him.
Her hand remained on his back, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingers a reassurance that he was still with her, still alive. The comforting warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of her clothes, anchoring her to the present moment. She found an inexplicable comfort in their shared silence, a reprieve from the chaos of their lives.
Her thoughts inevitably drifted towards the case they had just closed. The faces of the innocent lives lost emerged in her mind, their haunting eyes reflecting the horrors they had been subjected to.
The guilt of not being able to save them all gnawed at her insides. But she knew, as did Dean, that they couldn't save everyone. It was a harsh truth they had learned early in their line of work, yet it hit them anew with each case.
Y/N shook her head, dispelling the morbid thoughts. She needed to focus on the present, on Dean. She allowed herself a soft smile, appreciating the rare moment of tranquility they were granted. Despite the horrors they faced, these quiet moments, where it was just them, were the ones she treasured the most.
As sleep began to creep up on her, Y/N adjusted her position carefully, ensuring not to disturb Dean. She let her eyes close, the comforting rhythm of Dean's breathing lulling her into sleep. With the weight of the day finally catching up to them, they found solace in each other's company, their bond a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.
thank you for reading !
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supercap2319 · 2 years
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Dean: *Barges into the bathroom* “Hey, Y/N. Have you seen my toothbrush anywhere? I think I left it in here.”
Y/N: *Pokes head from behind the shower curtain. Soap suds in his hair* “You know it’s customary to take turns in the bathroom, Dean.”
Dean: *Rolls eyes* “Don’t you start with me, Short-Stuff. You and Jack are the ones taking the marathon long shower. Make sure you clean up after yourselves.”
Y/N: *Freezes and blushes* “What makes you think Jack is in the shower with me?”
Dean: *Smirks and calls out* “Hi, Jack!”
Jack: *Pokes his head from behind Y/N and smiles* “Hello, Dean.”
Dean: “Busted.”
Y/N: “Guess I learned this from you when I saw you and Cas together.”
Dean: *Blushes* “You didn’t see anything.”
Y/N: *Smirks* “Really? Maybe I should ask Cas myself?”
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ofc-fics · 1 year
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Just For Me (Rowena) NSFW
A/N: In honor of my 21st on Tuesday. I would’ve written it then, but I couldn’t think of what I wanted. Rowena would know. 
Ignore Sam in the gif.
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The whole week was filled with internal excitement. I hadn’t said a thing about it besides my annual reminders to my brothers not to make a fuss lest I remove their favorite appendage and shove it down their throat. Not another soul knew. 
That was a small consolation. Until I awoke. The space beside me was empty, I could feel, prompting a concerned frown. The sheets were cold, but not the peasant wet sort to feel in the morning. I sat up and looked around. “Ro!” I called out one time before pulling the corner of my comforter. My feet had just touched the cold, hard wood when the bedroom door swung open. And there was my ancient Enchantress. She has a tray of food, likely room service, balanced on her arm. I frowned. There was no way Rowena made the food, but the thought warmed my chest the slightest bit. 
Rowena threw out her free arm. “Ye cannae leave ya bed!’ she insisted The tray in her hand wobbled precariously. 
I heard her words, but the delicate balance of the liquids and food threatening to tip over made me want to help because that was just who I am. I leaned further out of bed, supporting my own weight on my tiptoes. 
A sharp Scottish word was barked from my lady’s mouth and I looked up at her. The woman had a glare that could freeze Death, and I knew exactly what it took to kill him. I gulped at her displeasure. She re-stabilized her tray and pointed to the bed. I rocked back and landed in the spot I slept in. All anger faded from Rowena’s face, a nifty little trick I was sure she used in full knowledge of its affects, and I practically ‘puppy-dogged’, as Rowena called my shy side. I didn’t dare move again; Rowena had another trick to guarantee I couldn’t if I wouldn’t. All too cheery, Rowena pranced over to sit by my feet. I moved them closer to myself so she could. Her gazillion-watt smile somehow brightened another million watts and I was helpless to any plans she seemed to have. She set the tray between us and I took in the massive selection. Tea in Rowena’s cup took up the corner of the tray, massive, fluffy pancakes and waffled reigning over the main plate. Sweets and fruit to top them surrounded the tray, eggs potatoes, sausage, bacon, crepes, beignets, and other exotic and local food filled the plates on the tray. A large pitcher off-set the weight and that was obviously Rowena’s highest hope and several other, smaller cups were filled with juices, mils, and other drinks. Ro busied herself with prepping the food. 
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, a big one to me flashing in my mind. 
Rowena put a napkin on my lap and stabbed a cut up piece of waffle. She dipped it into a cup, earning a strange look from me until it came away sticky. She held out the fork. “You,” she answered simply. 
I wondered if she somehow found out, but quickly dismissed the thought. The boys were too scared of me to to tell Rowena of all people. I reached to take the fork to, you know, feed myself. The redhead pulled her arm away and pouted. I stared at it for a moment before it worked me down and I deflated. My girl brightened again, though, and help up her arm to feed me. Blushing faintly, I opened my mouth. 
“Good girl,” Rowena mumbled firmly. 
A whimper crept from the far back of my throat and I slapped my hands over my mouth. 
But Rowena was elated. Her smile had too much pull over me. She held up a strawberry. “Eat up, wee lamb.” 
My hands remained over my mouth. I shook my head, hating her all-powerful control over me with a few words. Well, hating it outside the bedroom. 
The witch’s face fell stern again. “Wee girl,” she started to scold. 
I couldn’t stand even the start and dropped my hands, diverting my eyes. 
Soft hands reached across the chin. The Scot drew my eyes back to her by moving only my face. “Good lass. Let’s not earn a punishment on our birthday, eh?” she mused. 
I went soft around Rowena and, according to anyone who saw us together, she did the same. My... softness, no matter the source, was always hardened at the mention of my birth and the annual reminder. Put on my hard face to look at her next. “How did you-?” 
“Know?” Rowena finished smugly. She propped the seeded tip against my bottom lip. I didn’t move beside my eyes following her movements. The redhead scooted closer, right beside me, and pouted pleadingly. I looked down at the irresistible lips and Ro had to fight off a smirk as she waited for it to work. I leaned forward, eating half in one bite. One hand rose to wipe off a drop of juice, but Rowena caught it and leaned forward to catch it with her tongue. She hummed which sent my stomach through a volcano. “Little angel,” she finally answered. 
Now, my blood may as well have been magma. 
Rowena licked up your cheek. “Don’t be mad, darlin’. I want to celebrate you.” Emerald orbs looked me up and down. I felt it. The backs of her fingers ran over my cheekbones. A piercing gaze locked on my neck before lips cut from the same cloth as Aphrodite descended. I barely held back my squeak. She moved along my throat with lips and teeth. Her other hand held my head safely where she could navigate with her mouth. “Come now, lass. How does my girl want to celebr-” Her free hand drifted away from me, unbeknownst to me. 
“I turned to her, cutting her off. “I don’t--”
A fried pastry was shoved in my mouth. I struggled to bite it, so as not to offend my girlfriend, but she was already speaking of course. “Well, I do and I want you to enjoy it.” She dug her gingers into my ribs, just skirting on tickling. I actually had to hold back from wiggling. The wouldn’t only encourage her. She suddenly wrapped her arms around my middle, her face pressed along mind. “So... darlin’.. what’s been weighing,” how did she make her voice do that?, “on you?”” 
It hit me like a bolt of lightning. I turned my face to her slightly. Gajazillion watt-grin. “What’s 5th base?” 
Rowena bit her bottom lip. My insides melted into goo. My legs threatened to go. I held her arms around me for a half-second to regain my stability. Her eyes were black, only a ring of green. One of her arms encircled my waist fully while the other moved down my hip to grope my ass. “This tight, wee bum is 5th base.” She nipped at my jaw. “Shall we play?” 
My heart stopped. 
*
I had been fed til I was stuffed and I discovered that pitcher was filled with wine. We both imbibed and laughed and it was the best morning I’d ever had on my birthday. Then, Rowena went about cleaning up. I went to help, but was intimidated out of it. Her pleasantness came back with a “good girl” then she sent the cutler out, effectively ‘cleaned up’. Next, she set about you. The entire process was a seduction, the bruises across your throat would attest to that. Being maneuvered, a quick stop in the shower, and I was pushed face-down on the bed, hips seized and raised, it all left you dripping. Which you felt once exposed to the air. It came more into my awareness when she began exploring, which had you moaning into the bedspread. 
Rowena chuckled lowly, sexily, behind me. That did... not help my wet thighs. “I think ,my wee girl’s taken care of,” her fingers slid between my folds, gathering the warm wetness, “all lubricant needs.” I whined, wanting her to sink her fingers into my aching core. It throbbed urgently. Ro laughed again. She pulled her fingers back, all five coated with me. She was gentle, probing my backside. She murmured a soft, “Relax, love.” 
I did and was heavily praised, helping me melt into the mattress. My breath came in fast and when her little finger slid inside me, I choked on it. It sped up more as she moved in and out. I flexed my toes. Row pushed her ring finger and I groaned low and long. She moved despite my whines due to the burn. She went slow before it began to blossom. I stuffed my face into the bed to muffle my high keen. 
“No, no,” she suddenly fisted my hair, pulling my face from the bed. “I earned those. You will not hide them from me.” She released my hair, but I held my head up still. My arms braced under me and I was glad. I needed the bolstering when Rowena pulled out, bringing her gingers back through my soaking sex. She used her first fingers this time and it was another burn to adjust to, but I managed. And soon, I was a wiggling, moaning mess; she was half-tempted to roll me over to lubricate her further, but she was enjoying the view. I had flopped down again, but my face was turned to the side so she could hear. I had throaty, loud moans torn from my mouth and I twitched everywhere. I held onto the bedding by my head for dear life. Ro bent over me, one hand on my lower back. “Bend this a bit more, sweets.” 
My back bowed more without hesitation. A low moan croaked out of my cracked lips at the change. 
“My sweet, nice girl,” she crooned, mind eye on power. She removed her fingers, then plunged her thumb in, palm groping my ass cheeks. I groaned again and I couldn’t stop, pushing my face back into the bed. My hips still moved with her every wiggle. “Still a bit pathetic,” she toyed with my clit, “but I’ll take it,” she hissed out, thrusting hone hard time. She watched be be overcome with ecstasy, desperately chasing it while still hiding. She grinned, letting me ride my orgasm and shame out. 
Another day, another mission. 
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animekpopsimp · 2 years
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Dumbass pt 2
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(Y/N) gripped the car's steering wheel so hard that her knuckles were beginning to turn white.
The vehicle pulled into the parking lot, the engine coming to a stop. Without a sound, the youngest Winchester exited the driver's seat and opened her duffel bag. The young woman grabbed her demon-killing blade along with some holy water. She then slammed the door shut, looking up at the building in front of her. It looked like a large hotel that had long since been abandoned for years. A few feet away (Y/N) spotted a demon standing guard outside of the building. She kept to the shadows, gripping her blade. The young woman made her way closer to the demon, sneaking up behind him while his back was turned to her. Before he could realize what was happening, she stabbed the monster in the back, killing him. His body dropped to the ground and (Y/N) began to search through his pocket, finding a key. She used it to unlock the doors and slowly pushed them open.
The building was dimly lit as the youngest Winchester made her way through the hallway. Further down she saw another demon, his back facing her as well. Making sure to stay quiet she snuck up behind him and pierced the blade into his back. Just as she let his body crumble to the floor a female demon appeared behind her. (Y/N) reacted quickly, turning around and stabbing the demon blade into her midsection. She died as well, dropping to the floor next to the other demon. Suddenly, the young woman heard footsteps, she quickly hid behind the front counter as two more demons appeared in the room, and quickly spotted the dead bodies that had been left there. Before they could react, (Y/N) lept up from behind the counter and stabbed the first demon, she then turned her attention to the second and pulled out her holy water, splashing it on his face. He screamed in pain as she held the blade up to his chest, the tip of it threatening to pierce his skin.
"Where are they?" She asked in a threatening tone. The demon smirked at her.
"I wouldn't tell you," he said as he tried to fight back. (Y/N) growled under her breath.
"Where are my brothers?" She asked, bringing the blade closer to stabbing the monster. At this, he began to look nervous.
"They're on the third floor, in room twelve," he said.
"Thanks" with that, (Y/N) stabbed the demon, killing him. She then stood up and ran up the stairs until she made her way to the third floor. She took out each demon she found on the way until she found room twelve. The door was cracked, and when she peaked inside she saw a demon standing in front of her brothers who were both tied to chairs. They had blood on their heads, she slowly pushed the door open and the demon turned around to face her. She rushed towards him but he flung her back, causing her to hit the wall. Without the monster noticing, she reached for her holy water and splashed it on his face. He screamed in pain and (Y/N) rushed forward once again, stabbing him. His body began to glow before it fell to the floor. (Y/N) put the blade and holy water away before running over to her brothers, she cut them free before looking them over.
"And you said you wouldn't need my help" she muttered under her breath as the three of them made their way to the Impala and drove back to the bunker.
Later, (Y/N) finished stitching up her brother's injuries. Once she was done, she handed them both a beer.
"You know," she told them, taking a drink of her own beer.
"You both are dumbasses" she commented.
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notanettelmao · 1 year
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Pack Mentality pt. 2
Also on AO3
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(Teen Wolf rewrite)
Fandoms: Teen Wolf, Supernatural Warnings: usual TW stuff, usual SPN stuff... Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x reader Words: 1,2k
<<;back // next>>
Scott and Stiles were getting their lunch while Y/N had already gone to find a table to eat their food at. The guys were whispering as they slowly made their way over to her. Scott set his tray on the table and took off his backpack before sitting down, Stiles doing the same sitting across from him right next to Y/N. 
“Something happened last night and I can’t remember what,” Scott said as he stared at his food. Y/N looked up from her phone and blinked a few times.
“Yeah, you said that already.”
“What makes you sure that Derek even has all the answers?” Stiles asked, ignoring Y/N’s comment.
“Because during the full moon he was in full control while I was running around attacking some totally innocent guy,” Scott poked his food with a fork. Y/N looked back down at her phone not really paying attention to the conversation between her two friends. She was sure Stiles would repeat everything to her later anyway. 
“I can’t go out with Allison. I have to cancel.”
“You’re not canceling, okay? You can’t just cancel your entire life! We will figure it out.” Stiles gestured to himself, Y/N and Scott with his hand as he was talking. Suddenly someone slammed their tray on the table, making all three of them jump.
“Figure out what?” Lydia asked. Y/N frowned. What was she doing, sitting with them? She quickly turned her head to look at Stiles, rolling her eyes when she noticed how he was staring at Lydia. 
“Homework,” she answered quickly, smiling at Lydia - it looked more like a face someone would make after licking a lemon. More people started sitting down at their table, making Y/N shift in her seat. She wasn’t comfortable around all these wannabe cool kids. Y/N watched Jackson kick one of the people out of their chair so he could sit down. 
“I’m giving this ten minutes. Then I’m leaving,” she mumbled to Stiles. He didn’t respond though, making her sigh. 
“So, I hear they’re saying it’s some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar,” Danny broke the silence at the table.
“I heard a mountain lion,” Jackson said.
“A cougar is a mountain lion,” Y/N said at the same time as Lydia, both sounding annoyed. Both of them then looked at each other making eye contact. Danny and Jackson stared at Lydia, visibly confused.
“Isn’t it?” Lydia then asked, making Y/N raise an eyebrow at her and then frown. Why was she playing dumb? Y/N shook her head and looked back down to her phone, ignoring anything else being said by the people around her. She was going through articles about the mysterious black goo appearing all around America. She was sure all of those cases were leviathans. She hoped her brothers had everything under control. 
⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
“You’re a terrible bowler!” Stiles said loudly after the three friends left the cafeteria. Y/N was laughing next to him as Scott groaned.
“I know! I’m such an idiot!” 
“It was like watching a trainwreck! First, it turned into the whole group-date thing, and then out of nowhere comes that phrase-” Stiles continued.
“Hang out,” Y/N said, nodding. Scott rolled his eyes.
“Yes. Thank you.” Stiles said and then looked back at Scott. 
“You don’t hang out with hot girls, okay? It’s like death. Once it’s hanging out, you might as well be her gay best friend,” Y/N frowned a little when she heard Stiles say that. Scott looked at her and then at his best friend.
“You and Y/N hang out.”
“That’s-” Stiles turned to look at Y/N for a few seconds and then back at Scott. 
“That’s not the same. Y/N’s not-” Stiles stopped talking when he noticed the look Scott was giving him. He was staring at Stiles with a slight frown, one eyebrow raised. Stiles blinked a few times, realizing what he was saying. He turned around to face Y/N, who was staring at her shoes pretending she wasn’t listening. 
“I-” he started but she looked up at him shaking her head. 
“No, it’s okay. I know what you meant,” she mumbled, putting on a fake smile. 
“No, you don’t-”
“I do Stiles. I know I’m not hot. And to be honest I’m glad. It means no one can be attracted to me. Which means fewer people to worry about, so you know..” She shrugged.
“I’m a Winchester. We don’t do relationships anyway.” She made a face and then motioned with her hand toward the door.
“I’m gonna go, I need to call my uncle.” That was a lie. Scott knew that, Stiles seemed to believe it tho. Y/N didn’t wait for them to say anything and just left. Scott waited till she was far enough, then he hit Stiles’ shoulder.
“Ouch! What was that for?” He asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, scared that Scott might hit him again.
“You are so dumb,” was all Scott said.
⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
Y/N walked all the way from the school to the Argents’ house. She looked around the streets of Beacon Hills trying to remember all the bookstores so she could go and search for some old lore books in case she needed them. She also decided to actually call Bobby when she got inside her room where she was sure no one could hear her.
As soon as she unlocked the door Y/N ran up the stairs ignoring Chris staring at her from the doorway to the kitchen. She slammed the door behind her, threw her backpack at her chair, and plopped face-first on the bed with her phone in her hand. 
“Mhkay,” she mumbled after a while and rolled over so she laid on her back. She then finally pressed the call button on her screen. The phone beeped a few times. Right as the timer of the call popped up on her screen she started talking.
“Hey Bobby! I-” She was interrupted by a voice that didn’t belong to her uncle.
“Y/N, hi.” 
“Dean? Why do you have Bobby’s phone? What happened?” She sat up on the bed, ready to pack her things and run to help her family if needed. 
“Please don’t freak out. Everything is under control.” Dean was trying to calm her down, but not very successfully. 
“What happened?” She asked again. 
“Bobby was shot. By a leviathan. But he is okay. They saved him Y/N. We thought he wouldn’t make it, but he is okay and sleeping now.” Y/N got up from the bed and started pacing around her room. 
“He could have died? Why didn’t you call me?” She yelled.
“We wanted to, I swear! He told us not to.” Dean sighed. 
“I-...” Y/N teared up. 
“Okay, I’m gonna go. Tell him I said hi please,” she whispered, forgetting why she even called in the first place. 
“Yeah, will do. Bye Y/N/N,” Dean said. She could hear Sam saying bye in the background before she hung up. She took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. Research by herself it is then.
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kywaslost · 2 years
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Supernatural imagine the reader is Dean and Sam's half sister and has a sketch book of the whole Winchester family and the reader states that she isn't a real Winchester.
Sam and Dean x Half-Sister Reader
A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for the request! I hope I did alright. It's curently 10:30 pm and I'm extremely tired, and I wasn't wearing my glasses while writing most of this so I apologize for any spelling errors!
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    Sam and Dean weren’t really shocked when they found out they had a half-sister. They knew their dad had slept around a few times, especially after he hid Adam from them until the boy himself found his older brothers. The Winchester brothers loved you nonetheless. They treated you like family, taking you in when they met you on a hunt in Kentucky. 
    You had been living with the boys for a little over a year now, and you couldn’t ask for a better family. You couldn’t help but feel like you were intruding, though. Sam and Dean loved you and treated you well, not getting angry when the secret was revealed that you were their half-sister. Once you had moved in with them and saw the very few family photos they had, you couldn’t help but tear up. You didn’t have a very good home life growing up. Your mother left you when you were 4 because she couldn’t take raising you on her own. John came around every once in a while, but he mainly left you drifting between hunters. 
    You’d always had a love for the fine arts, drawing especially. Sam and Dean were amazed when they caught a glimpse of one of your drawings over your shoulder one day while doing research. You had gotten board, deciding to do a few rough sketches of your oldest brother, who was sitting across from you, a book in one hand and a beer in the other.
    “Wow, sis, I never knew you could draw,” Dean commented, taking your sketchbook into his own hands. “This is awesome! I mean, you could make my jawline a bit sharper…” This caused you and Sam to laugh.
    “Don’t think too much about it. I don’t really like showing other people my drawings. They can get a bit personal.” You took the sketchbook back. “You know how my life was growing up. The only thing that I ever had that never left was the ability to draw. It was my way of coping growing up.” You set your sketchbook back down on the table, sliding your chair back and standing up. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back.” 
    Sam and Dean went back to doing their research on a potential case when they heard the slight movement of paper. The two boys looked to see that the wind from their ceiling fan was blowing the pages in your sketchbook around. The page flipped to show a drawing of Sam, Dean, John, and Mary. You had drawn the picture so that Sam and Dean were older, the way they looked now. At the top of the page you wrote ‘Winchester Family’. Dean reached for the sketchbook again.
    “Dean, you hear (y/n/n),” Sam warned. “She said she doesn’t like people seeing her drawings. Put it back.”
    “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Dean said as he flipped back a page. The next page was of Sam and Dean, leaning against the hood of the impala. There was a small note on the page next to it. ‘They’re so happy’ it read. ‘I wish I could have been a part of that relationship.’ Dean flipped back another page, and then another until he got to the first page of the sketchbook. His brows furrowed slightly.
    “What?” Sam asked, craning his neck to see what his brother was looking at.
    “The title of her sketchbook is ‘The Winchester Family’,” Dean answered.
    “Ok, and?” Sam commented. “What’s wrong with that?”
    “You didn’t let me finish,” replied Dean. “Under it she wrote ‘the family I’ll never be a part of’.” He did a quick fan through all of the pages. They were filled with sketches of him, Sam, and his parents. There were several of all of them together. One image he found was a sketch of the whole family, and then you drawn off to the side. You were drawn to look at how happy the family looked. Dean had Sam in a headlock, and both of them dawned huge smiles. John and Mary were drawn holding each other, admiring their sons. 
    “Dean?” a soft voice came from behind him. “What are you doing with that?” He turned around to see you standing behind him, looking at him wearily. “I told you not to look through that.”
    “What do you mean, ‘a family I’ll never be a part of?’” Dean asked. “You’re just as part of this twisted family as we are.”
    “Give that back,” you said quietly, tears brimming in your eyes. “Please, give it back.”
    “Y/N, come here,” Sam said softly. “How come you never told us this?”
    “Why do you think?” she said quickly, fully crying now. “You guys have had each other since you were born, pretty much. You may have lost your mom at a young age but at least you had John. Sure, he wasn’t around much but he was around more you guys than he was me. Look at the two of you. You’re pretty much inseparable. I’m just a tag along. The one-night-stand kid. As much as I’ve tried, I’ll never be a part of the Winchester family.”
    “Family doesn’t end in blood, Y/N,” Dean said. “Even if it did, we share at least half our DNA together, and that makes you family. Sam and I love you kiddo. You’re our sister, and nothing can change that.” He stood and pulled you into a tight hug, watching as Sam stood and joined the two of you. When he pulled away, he wiped away your tears as you sniffed.
    “You really mean it?” you asked.
    “Of course we do,” Sam answered. “You’re a Winchester whether you like it or not.”
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witchy-writing · 2 years
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Join the Hunt
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Summary: Ever want to be included in the show, as a Winchester? Wait no more. Follow y/a, Sam and Dean through 15 seasons of saving people, hunting things the family business.
Season 1
1.1 Pilot
1.2 Wendigo 
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dinosaurrah · 8 months
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Supernatural Rewrite is also on my Wattpad.
You have no idea how long this took me. I hope you enjoy it. I will try and post new ones but with how long it takes me to write one chapter, it might be a few days to weeks for a new part to actually come out. But enough of that. Enjoy it. Also, two more things. Number uno, I don't own any of these characters, the show's creator does. There are some lines that are mine but all others are the show's writers. And number dos, I won't accept hate. If you don't like my story then don't read it. It's simple. Anyway, I'll let you guys get to reading. Hope you enjoy because I don't want my effort to go to waste.
Part 1: The Pilot.
Lawrence, Kansas.
22 years ago.
In Lawrence, Kansas, there was a neighbourhood, but there was one house in particular that was special. A house with white boarding for the outside walls and a tree not far from the house.
"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother." Mary said, holding Dean on her hip. As she turns the light on, she stares to the other side of the room lovingly.
On the other side of the room, Sam has a blue blanket wrapped around him and is settled in a dark wood crib. There is a space mobile hanging from the crib, entertaining the baby.
Mary puts Dean down and lets him run towards Sam's crib. "'Night Sam." Dean says, kissing Sam's forehead. "Goodnight, love." Mary says, leaning over Sam. She caresses his head and places a kiss on his temple.
"Hey! Dean." John says, holding (Name) in his hands. "Daddy!" Dean exclaims, running towards John. "Hey, buddy!" John replies, picking Dean up with his other arm, being careful not to drop 2-year-old (Name).
"What do you think? Sam ready to toss around a football?" John asked 4-year-old Dean. "No, daddy." Dean replied. "No?" John questioned. "No!" (Name) replied, chuckling.
"You got them?" Mary asked, patting John's shoulder softly. "I got them." John replied as Mary walked out the room. Both (Name) and Dean wrap their arms around each other as John says, "Sweet dreams, Sam," and switched off the light as he left to put the two older kids to bed.
Suddenly, the mobile started spinning by itself, the clock goes off by itself, and the light starts flickering.
In John and Mary's room, the baby monitor starts going of, but it is only static. Mary woke up from her deep slumber, and groaned as she walked past Dean and (Name)'s room, towards Sam's. As she enters, she sees John standing above Sam. "John, is he hungry?" Mary asks, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
"Shh." John says, presumely caressing him. "Okay." Mary said, turning to walk down the stairs. Before she could, she saw a light flicker. She walked over and tapped the light multiple times and then it stopped abruptedly. She hummed in thought before she heard the TV downstairs.
As she decends the stairs, Mary is met with John watching the football game. Realisation hits Mary, "Oh god!", and she rushes upstairs to Sam's room. "Sammy! Sammy!" She shouts, rushing into Sam's room.
Downstairs, John is awakened to Mary screaming. "Mary?" John asked, scrambling to get off his chair. "Mary!" He called, concerned about his wife's scream. "Mary!" He called, going up the stairs, "Mary!" He called, barging into Sam's room.
He soon became confused as Mary was nowhere in sight. John looked towards Sam. "Hey, Sammy." He said, placing his hands on the edge of the crib. "Okay?" He asked, when he noticed a spot of something next to his head.
As he reaches towards the spot, more dripped on him from above. As John looks, he sees a horrific sight. Mary pinned to the roof, with a gash along her stomach. "Ah! Mary!" John yelled, falling over.
With that, Mary is engulfed in flames. John watches in horror as he watches his wife burn. Sam was crying in his crib, turning away from the fire. John grabs Sam and rushes out of thw room as quickly as he could.
"Daddy?" (Name) asked, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. "Take Sam outside as fast as you can!" John yelled at Dean, handing him Sam. "Don't look back! Now, kids! Go!" He yells as the two kids run down the stairs, making sure Sam was okay.
"Mary!" John yelled, shielding his eyes from the fire, "No!". At that moment, fire is exploded all around the room.
Outside, Dean and (Name) are holding Sam and running out of the house. "It's okay, Sammy." Dean said, looking back where (Name) was looking, which was Sam's window. Suddenly, John scooped the two up, running out towards the road. "I got you." John reassured (Name), when they started crying.
As they reached the road, Sam's bedroom window is shattered as fire is forced out of it. The explosions came in waves, explosion after explosion.
After a few minutes, the fire department showed up, sirens blaring. Firefighters race to put out the fire in the Winchester household.
An officer was restraining two of John's neighbours as they tried to get closer. Behind them is John, Dean, (Name) and baby Sam, sitting on their 67' Chevy Impala John looks up at the house once more, devestated that his loved one had passed.
Standford University
Present Day
"Sam, get a move on, would you?" Jessica asked, walking out of the hallway in her nurse costume. "We were supposed to be there like 15 minutes ago." She added, putting her earrings in. "Sam, you coming or what?" She said, walking to the front door.
"Do I have to?" A grown up Sam asks, poking his head around the corner. "Yes! It'll be fun!" Jessica said, pouting her lip slightly, "And where's your costume?" She asked, looking him up and down.
"You know how I feel about Halloween." Sam replied, shaking his head.
At the party, Jessica holds out a shot of whiskey. "So here's to Sam and his awesome LSAT victory." Jessica announced, clinking her glass against her friends. "Alright, alright. It's not that big of a deal." Sam said, shaking his head once again.
"He acts all humble but he scored a 174." Jessica's friend says, dowing the shot, along with Jessica and Sam. "Is that good?" Jessica asks. "Scary good." Sam replied, looking to the roof.
"See, there you go. You are a first-round draft pick," Their friend said, walking to the other side of Sam, "You can go to any law school you want." Sam lookes at his nails, deciding to tell them. "Actually, I got an interview here, Monday. If it goes okay, I got a shot at a full ride next year."
"Hey, it's gonna go great." Jessica assured. "It better." Sam said, cocking his head to the side. "Feel good to be the golden boy of the family?" Their friend asked. "Ah, they don't know." Sam replied.
"No? I would be gloating! Why not?" Their friend asked. "Because we're not exactly the Brady's." Sam replied, smiling. "And I'm not exactly the Huxtables. More shots?" Their friend replied.
"No." Sam and Jessica replied at the same time. Sam turned back to Jessica. "Seriously, I'm proud of you," Jessica said from across the table, "And you're gonna knock 'em dead on Monday. You're gonna get that full ride. I know it."
"What would I do without you?" Sam asked. "Crash and burn." Jessica said, shrugging one shoulder, before pulling him in for a kiss.
Later in the apartment, Sam and Jessica are asleep in bed, when Sam heard a door opening and shutting. He crept around the halls until he saw a figure move in the other room.
Sam attacks the intruder from behind, grabbing his neck, which makes the intruder call a name which Sam can't understand. Sam is dragged backwards into another room and the first invader grabs Sam and slams him on the ground.
"Woah! Easy, tiger." Dean says, smiling a toothy grin. "Dean?" Sam asked, out of breath. "Scared the crap outta me." He added. "That's because you're out of practice." (Name) said, stepping into the room. "(Name)?" Sam asked, turning his head to the direction of the voice. "Hey, Sammy." (Name) said, smiling a similar toothy grin as Dean's.
With that, Sam flips Dean over and was now on top. "Or not." (Name) said, clapping. "Get off of me." Dean said, patting Sam's arm. "Guys, what the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked glancing between the two. "I was looking for a beer." Dean said, patting the dust off Sam's shirt. "I was forced to come." (Name) said, walking over to Sam.
"Sam?" Jessica asked, switching on the light. The three Winchesters looked over to Jessica, who was in her pyjamas. "Jess, hey." Sam said. "Dean, (Name), this is my girlfriend Jessica." Sam added, looking back at them to get their reactions.
(Name) looked confused but Dean was looking Jessica up and down subductivly. "Wait. Your siblings (Name) and Dean?" Jessica asked, a slight smile creeping on her face. "I love the Smurfs." Dean said, pointing to her Smurf pyjama top. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league." Dean added, walking up to Jessica with a smile across his face. "Just let me put something on." Jessica replied, looking from Dean, to (Name), and finally to Sam.
"No, no. No, I wouldn't dream of it... seriously." Dean stopped Jessica. "Anyway, we've got to borrow Sam here. Talk about some private family business, but..." Dean started. "It's nice meeting you?" (Name) finished, shrugging.
"No." Sam stated, walking over to Jessica and wrapping an arm around her. "Whatever you wanna say, you can say it in front of her." He said, looking at (Name) and Dean. "Okay, um.." (Name) said, looking to Dean for guidance. "Dad's hasn't been home in a few days." Dean said, lifting his chin slightly.
"So? He's working overtime on a Miller time shift." Sam asked, careful not to reveal the family business to Jessica. "He'll stumble back in sooner or later." Sam added. "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days." (Name) said, looking up from the ground.
Realisation hit Sam as to what really happened. "Jess, excuse us." He said, not looking away from (Name).
"I mean, you can't just break in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road." Sam explained, while running down the stairs that lead to the road. "You're not hearing me Sammy. Dad's missing." Dean tried to explain. "We need you to help us find him." (Name) added. "You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then too." Sam asked them, as they went down another flight of stairs. "He's always missing, and he's always fine." Sam added.
"Not for this long." (Name) said, turning back to face their two siblings. "You coming or not?' Dean asked. "I'm not." Sam said. "Why not?" (Name) asked, confusion showing on their face. "I swore I was done hunting. For good." Sam explained.
"Wasn't easy but it's not that bad." Dean muttered while walking off. "Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing, he gave me a .45!" Sam exclaimed, stopping Dean. "What was he supposed to do?" Dean asked. "He was 9 years old!" (Name) backed Sam up. "He's supposed to say don't be afraid of the dark." Sam said spitefully.
"Are you kidding me? Of course, you should be afraid. You know what's out there." Dean yelled. "Yeah I know." Sam replied.
"Still, the way we grew up after Mom's death and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. But we still haven't found a damn thing. So we kill everything we find-" Sam argued. "Save a lot of people too." (Name) argued back. Sam pushed Dean out of the way, and walked up to (Name). He stared down into his siblings eyes.
"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" He asked. Dean shoved past Sam and (Name), and opened the gate. (Name) stormed off, leaving Sam to follow Dean through the gate. "The weapon training and melting silver into bullets? Man, (Name), we were raised like warriors." Sam tried to say, but (Name) just walked faster. "So, what are you gonna do?" Dean asked, walking towards the Impala. "Are you gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?" Dean added. "No, not normal. Safe." Sam replied.
"And that's why you ran away." (Name) said, turning to Sam once more. "I was going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing." Sam explained. "Dad's in real trouble now. If he's not dead already, I can feel it. We can't do this alone." Dean argued. "Yes, you can. You have (Name)." Sam argued back. "Yeah. Well, we need all the help we can get." Dean said, looking down.
Sam let out a sigh. "What was he hunting?" Sam asked, refusing to look into his sibling's eyes. Dean walks to the boot of the car and opened it, revealing the weapon staff. "Alright. Let's see. Where the hell did you put that thing, (Name)?" Dean shouted over his shoulder. "It's in there!" (Name) shouted back." So when Dad left, why didn't you two go with him?" Sam questioned.
"We were working our own gig." Dean replied, still searching the boot. "This voodoo thing down in New Orleans." (Name) extended Dean's answer. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself, (Name)?" Sam asked. "I'm 26, they're 24, dude." Dean said, looking towards Sam.
"Alright, here we go." Dean said, flipping through John's journal. "So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy..." Dean paused as he handed Sam a picture which his two younger siblings looked at, "They found his car, but he'd vanished. 'Completely MIA.'." Dean explained.
"So maybe he was kidnapped." (Name) explained. "Yeah." Sam agreed. "Well, here's another one in April. Another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92. Ten of them over the past 20 years. All men. All same 5-mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more so Dad went to dig around." Dean explained.
"That was about three weeks ago. We haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough. Then I get this voicemail yesterday" (Name) added. They played the voice which said,
'Dean, (Name), somethings starting to happen. I think it's serious. I need to try and figure out what's going on. Hhshsgdiga- Be very careful, kids. We're all in danger.'
"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam asked. "Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it?" Dean asked sarcastically. "Alright, I slowed the message down and I ran it through GoldWave, took out the hiss and this is what I got." (Name) explained
Dean played the voice mail, 'I can never go home.'. A woman's voice said. "Never go home." Sam said, pondering something. As Dean closed the boot of the car. "You know, in almost two years, I've never bothered you two. Neever asked for a thing." Sam added.
Sam sighed, and looked around. He looked at (Name) then at Dean. "Alright, I'll go." He finally agreed. "I'll help you find him, but I've to get back first thing Monday." He said, adding to tge first part. "Just wait here." He said, turning away.
"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asked (Name), turning back. "I think he has an interview or something." (Name) replied. "What? A job interview? Why doesn't he skip it?" Dean asked.
"It's a law school interview, it's basically his whole future on a plate."
"Law school?"
"So are we gonna drop him back on Monday or not?"
-------------------
Sam was packing a bag for the trip, when Jessica walked in. "Wait, you're taking off?" She asked, confused. "This about your dad? Is he alright?" She asked, concern flooding her face.
"Yeah. You know, just a little family drama. " Sam reassured. "But your brother said he was on some kind of hunting trip?" She asked, sitting on the bed. "Yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin and he's probably got Jim, Jack and José along with him. We're just gonna go bring him back." Sam explained.
"What about the interview?" Jessica asked. "I'll make the interview." Sam reassured, "This is only for a couple days." Sam, I mean, please. Just stop for a second. You sure yoy're okay?" She asked, a slight smile on her face.
"Hey, everything's gonna be okay. I promise." Sam said, kissing Jessica on the cheek before leaving. "At least tell me where you're going!" Jessica called out to Sam.
----------
Jericho, California
"Amy, I can't come over tonight." A man driving down the highway said. "Because I got work in the morning, that's why."
"Okay, I miss it, my dad's gonna have my ass." Just then, the line went static. The man driving sees a woman standing on the side of the road who's wearing white.
"Hey, uh, Amy, let me call you back." He said, pulling over. As he pulled up to the side of the road, he put his head out the window. "Car trouble or something?" He asked, but the woman didn't answer.
"Take me home." She said, shifting her weight from each foot. "Sure, get in." He said, opening the door. She walked over and got in the frontseat, without saying another word.
"So, you're coming from a Halloween party or something?" He asked. She didn't answer once again, but the man couldn't stop looking at her, checking her out. "You know, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here." He added, looking out the window.
She slowly turned towards him, pulling her dress down from her thighs. "I'm with you." She whispered, grabbing his chin. He chuckled, turning back towards her. "Uh.." He said, looking her up and down.
"Will you come home with me?" She asked, tilting her head slightly. "Um.. Hell, yeah." He said, starting the car. They drove down the highway, towards the girl's house.
As they arrived at the house, the man stopped. "Come on. You don't live here." He said, looking at the woman. She had a sad, pained look pasted on her face. "I can never go home." She said.
"What? What are you talking about?" The man asked, "Nobody even lives here. Huh, where do you liv-" He asked, turning to the woman. Fear struck his heart as he turned to find the woman had disappeared.
He got out of the car, looking around for the woman. "That's good!" He called, chuckling. "Joke's over, okay?" He called again, but there was no answer. "You want me to leave?" He asked, looking towards the houses verandah/patio. He took a deep breath and made his way towards the house slowly.
"Hello?" He asked, taking a flashlight into the house. The door with flyscreen on it had been destroyed and a massive hole was now put through it.
A bat flies out the door, pushing the man onto the ground. He screamed at the top of his lungs, falling through the flyscreen door. He sprinted back to his car and started the engine. He backed up and speeded away from this house.
He looks back to see if anyone was there following him. He shrugged his shoulders multiple times to try to calm himself down. Little did he know, the woman was once again in his backseat. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the lady, he screamed once more, sending the car onto the broken bridge.
The screeched as they stopped. He screamed again as blood is spread all through the car. That's when the screaming stopped.
---------------
Dean emerges the cowboy gas station, food in his hand. "Hey. Do youwant breakfast?" He asked his two younger siblings. "No, thanks." Sam said. "Yes, please." (Name) said, getting out of the car to go over to Dean.
"So, how'd you pay for that stuff? You guys and Dad still running credit card scams?" Sam asked, returning to Dean's cassette-tape collection. "Yeah, well, hunting isn't exactly a pro-ball career." Dean explained. "All we do is apply, it's not our fault they send us the cards." (Name) added, finishing their food.
"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asked, getting out of the car. "Uh, Bert Aframian and his kids, Hector and Martha. Scored three cards out of the deal." Dean answered.
"Sounds about right. I swear, man, you got to update your cassette-tape collection." Sam said. "Why?" Dean snapped. "For one they're cassette tapes, Dean." (Name) said from the backseat. "Yes, and two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock." Sam said. Dean snatched the Metallica tape.
"House rules, Sammy." (Name) warned. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole." Dean said, throwing the Metallica tape back into the box with the other tapes.
"You know, Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old. It's Sam, okay?" Sam asked. "Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud." Dean said, driving out the gas station. "It's okay, Sammy." (Name) said, patting Sam's shoulder. Sam gave them his best bitch-face to show his annoyance to his two older siblings.
As the trio raced down the highway, a sign read, 'Jericho 7'. Sam pulls his phone away from his ear, and (Name) is laying down in the back, but not asleep. "Alright, so there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or the morgue. So that's something, I guess." Sam explained.
As they drove to the bridge, Dean turned to the back to talk to (Name). "Check it out." He said , moving as (Name) sat up. The town's cops were around the bridge, interviewing people and looking around.
Dean grabbed a box filled with ID cards and grabbed some, handing one to (Name). "Let's go." Dean said, getting out of the car.
"Did you guys find anything?" Asked the sheriff. "No! Nothing!" Two officers replied from in the water. The sheriff walked over to the car the man was in. "No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless, almost too clean.
"So this kid Troy, he's dating your daughter, isn't he?" The sheriff asked as the three walked onto the crime scene. "Yeah." The other officer replied. "How's Amy doing?" The sheriff replied.
"She's putting up missing posters downtown." The other officer said. "You fellows had another one like this last month, didn't you?" Dean asked, walking up to the officers. "And who are you?" The sheriff asked.
"Federal marshals." (Name) replied, pulling out their badge. "You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?" The sheriff asked. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." Dean replied, lookiing at the sheriff.
"You did have another one just like this, correct?" (Name) asked, putting their badge away. "That's right, about a mile up the road." The sheriff replied, "There have been others before that.".
"So this victim.. You knew him?" Sam finally spoke up, turning to the sheriff. "A town like this, everybody knows everybody."
"Any connection between the victims besides that they're all men?" Dean asked, circling the car.
"No. Not so far as we can tell." The sheriff replied.
"So, what's the theory?" (Name) asked, joining Dean.
"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murderer, kidnapping ring."
"That is exactly the kind of crap police work I'd expect out of you guy-" Dean said, a smile on his face. Before he could finish, (Name) stepped on Dean's foot, a fake smile to cover their annoyance. "Thank you for your time." Sam said.
The three 'federal marshals' walked away from the sheriff. "Gentlemen." The sheriff said.
(If you're a chick.)
V V V V V
"Gentlemen." The sheriff said. (Name) turned and raised their eyebrows. "A-And lady!" The sheriff quickly added.
As they were making their way back to the car, Sam was shaking his head and Dean smacked the back of it. (Name) was trying their hardest not to laugh. "Ow! What was that for?" Sam asked, offended. "Why'd you step on my foot?" Dean asked spitefully back.
"Why'd you have to talk to the police like that?" Sam asked. "Come on! They don't really know what's going on! We're all alone on this. If we're gonna find Dad, we've gotta get to the bottom of this ourselves." (Name) said, stopping the two boys.
Sam cleared his throat when he spotted people behind (Name). "Can I help you folks?" He asked. "No, sir. We were just leaving." (Name) said respectfully. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." Dean said as the two FBI agents passed.
"I bet you that's her." (Name) said, walking down the street with their two brothers. "Yeah." Sam replied. "You must be Amy." Dean said, getting Amy's attention. "Yeah." Amy replied. "Troy told us about you. We're his uncles and cousin. I'm Dean, this is Sammy. And this here is his cousin, (Name)." Dean introduced.
"He never mentioned you to me." Amy said, walking away. "Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much. We're up in Modesto." (Name) said, shrugging a little. "So, uh, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around." Sam explained calmly.
"Hey, are you okay?" Another girl who came up to Amy asked. "Yeah." She replied. "Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" (Name) asked.
"I was on the phone with Troy. He was deiving home. He said he would call me right back, and he never did." Amy explained. "He didn't say anything strange? Or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked. "No, nothing I can remember." Amy replied.
"Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything.." Dean trailed off as he saw the girls expressions change. "What is it?" (Name) asked, leaning into the table from being in the middle of their brothers.
"Well, it's just.. I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Amy explained. "What do they talk about?" All three Winchesters say at the same time. "It's kind of a local legend. This one girl.. She got murdered out on Centennial.. like decades ago." Amy explained as Dean and (Name) shared a look.
"Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up.. Well, they disappear forever." Amy finished.
At the library, Sam, Dean and (Name) are huddled around a computer. Dean searches up, 'Female Murder Hitchhicking.' and hits search.
No results.
'Female Murder Centennial Highway.'
No results.
"Let me try." Sam said reaching over. Dean smacks Sam's hand before trying again. "I got it." He whined. Sam shoves Dean away from the computer, smashing into (Name). "Ow!" (Name) whisper-yells. "Dude." Dean says. "You're such a control freak.".
"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean. "Yeah." (Name) replied. "Then maybe it's not murder." He suggested.
'Female Suicide Centennial Highway.'
One result.
"That was 1981." (Name) said. "Yeah, well, Constance Welch, 24 years old. Jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in river." Sam explained. "Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked. "Yeah." Sam said. "Why?" (Name) asked.
"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute and when she comes back, they aren't breathing," Sam explained, "Both died.". "'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband, Joseph Welch." (Name) read from over Sam's shoulder. "That bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asked.
"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean said, walking up to the edge of the bridge. "So, you think Dad would have been here?" (Name) asked their two brothers. "Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him." Dean replied, still looking at the river below.
"Okay, so now what?" Sam asked as the oldest of the trio pushed away from the rail and walked further down the bridge. "Now we keep digging 'till we find him." Dean replied. "It might take a while." (Name) added. "Guys.." Sam sighed, walking behind the two. "I told you, I've got to get back by-" Sam started.
"Monday." Dean said, turning around. "Right. The interview." (Name) said. "Yeah." Sam said, looking down. "Yeah, we forgot." Dean said. "You forgot." (Name) told Dean. "What?" Dean said turning back. "You forgot." (Name) repeated. "Whatever, you're really serious about this, aren't you, Sammy?" Dean said, dismissing the earlier converstion.
"You think you're gonna become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asked, listing the aspects of a white-picket-fence life. "Maybe. Why not?" Sam said, walking to stand beside (Name). "Does Jessica know the truth abou. Ct you?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" He added.
"No, and she's not ever going to know." Sam stated. "Well, that's healthy.." (Name) muttered. "Shut up, (Name)." Sam spat, making a face. (Name) stuck their tongue out back and crossed their arms. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're gonna have to face up to who you really are." Dean said, walking away with (Name) following.
"And who is that?" Sam asked. "One of us." (Name) replied. "No! I'm not like you guys! This is not going to be my life!" Sam yelled. He walked in front of the two and stopped them. "You have a responsibility." Dean explained. "To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like." Sam explained.
"What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone, and she isn't coming back." Sam finished. It was too fast for (Name)'s mind to comprehend. Dean had slammed Sam into the side of the bridge.
After about 5 seconds of (Name) trying to pull Dean off Sam, Dean spoke up. "Don't talk about her like that." Dean said softly but harshly. He let go off Sam and gently pushed (Name) off of him.
That's when (Name) saw Constance on the bridge. "Sam? Dean?" They called to their brothers. Constance turned to look at the three and fell face first towards the river below. The Winchesters ran towards the place where Constance had fell from and looked down.
"Where'd she go?" Dean asked in a panic. "I don't know." Sam replied, puffed. The sound of a car engine filled the air and Baby's lights turned on. Dean whipped his head towards his car, followed by (Name) then finally Sam. "What the.." (Name) asked. "Who's driving your car?" Sam asked, looking into the headlights.
Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out Baby's keys. He rattled them and got the other two's attentions. "Shit! Run!" (Name) shouted as the car raced towards them. The engine revved as it slowly caught up to them. The three jumped off the side of the bridge, narrowly avoiding the car.
All Sam could hear was the river below him and his grunts, trying to get a good grip on the bridge. "Dean! (Name)!" Sam called from the bridge. He saw Dean and (Name) laying face down on the river bed. Dean slowly looked up, panting. "Hey! Are they alright?" Sam asked Dean, concerned his sibling hadn't moved yet.
Dean shook his sibling, trying to get a response. "(Name)? You alright?" Dean asked. No answer. "(Name). Come on, this isn't funny. (Name)!" Dean shouted. Sam was scared at this point. It was true, he didn't want to hunt anymore but he didn't want his sibling to die because of his decision that they went along with.
Dean walked up holding (Name) in his arms. Sam ran up to them and tapped (Name)'s cheeks lightly. "(Name). Wake up." He said. As if he was a miracle worker, (Name) groaned and fluttered their eyes open. "What?" They asked, their voice low.
Dean put them down and shook his head. "Is it okay?" (Name) asked, gesturing to the car. "Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems alright now. That Constance chick.. What a bitch!" Dean said, shouting the last part. "Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure." Sam said.
"So where does the trail go from here, geniuses?" (Name) asked as Dean spread his arms apart. "You guys smell like toilets." Sam said, turning to his two older siblings.
"One room, please." Dean asked, slamming his credit card down on the counter. "You guys having a reunion or something?" The motel worker asked. "What do you mean?" (Name) asked. "That other guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for a whole month." The motel worker replied. Dean turned to his siblings, a look of annoyance on his face.
The three found themselves in front of John's old room, (Name) picking the lock. They walked in and looked around. Sam switche don the light. (Name) turned to see Dean still outside. They grabbed his collar, and yanked him inside. Once the three got a proper look at the room, they noticed it was covered in papers about missing people and maps pinned on the wall.
Dean saw an old burger on the table and Sam stepped over a fresh salt line. (Name) walked over to look at the back wall of papers. Dean sniffed the burger and groaned at the horrible smell.
"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." Dean stated, turning back to the other two. Sam felt the salt. "Salt, cat's-eye shells. He was worried. He was trying to keep something from coming in." Sam said. "What do you got here?" Sam said, walking over to (Name), wrapping an arm around their shoulder.
"Centennial Highway victims. I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, age, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right?" (Name) explained. Dean rushed to the other side of the room. "What do these guys have im common?" (Name) continued. Dean spotted a note on the wall that read, 'Woman In White.'.
Turning on a light, Dean looked closer. Sam noticed and walked over. He huffed and smiled slightly. "Dad figured it out." Sam said. "What do you mean?" (Name) asked, walking over. "He found the same article we did. Constance Welsh. She's a woman in white." Dean explained.
"You sly dogs. Alright, so if we're dealing with this woman in white, Dad would've found the corpse, destroyed it." Dean suggested. "She might have another weakness." (Name) suggested, looking at the news article. "No, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up." Dean argued. "Does it say where she's buried?" Dean asked. "No, not that I can tell." Sam replied.
"If I were Dad though, I'd go ask her husband." (Name) replied, stepping back. "If he's still alive." Sam added. "Alright, well, uh, why don't you see if you can find an address?" Dean asked. "You should get cleaned up." (Name) said, looking Dean up and down.
Dean rolled his eyes and started to walk away. "Hey Dean? What I said earlier about Mom and Dad? I'm sorry." Sam started, when he was cut off by Dean. "No chick-flick moments." Dean said, raising his hand.
"Alright, jerks." Sam said, calming down. "Bitches." Dean said, turning to (Name). "Dumbasses." (Name) chuckled.
As Dean walked away, Sam found an old photo of the three of them sitting in front of John. "Hey." Sam said, calling (Name) over. He showed them the picture and they smiled. "I remember that.." They simply said, handing the photo back.
A tape recorder was playing. It was Amy. "Hey, it's me. It's about 10:20.." Sam sat down listening to it. "Hey guys, I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat at that doner down the street. You guys want anything?" Dean asked, grabbing his jacket. "No." Sam simply said. "I'm good." (Name) said from layong down in the bed.
"Aframian's buying." Dean joked. "Uh-huh." Sam said, going back to the recorded message. Dean walked out and saw cops down the road. The motel worker pointe din his direction and Dean turned away. He grabbed his phone and dialled in (Name)'s number.
"...So come home soon, okay? I love you" finished the tape. (Name)'s phone started ringing. "What." They answered. "Dude, 5-0. Take off." Dean said. "What about you?" (Name) asked, standing up. "They kinda spotted me. Go find Dad." Dean said, hanging up. "Sam." They said. Sam looked at them. "5-0." They said, and Sam tensed up.
Outside, Dean turned to the two officers. "Problem, officers?" He asked. "Where's your partners?" One of them asked. "Partners? What? What partners?" Dean asked, acting confused. The officer pointed to the motel room and the other officer made his way over. Sam and (Name) were watching out the window and spronted to the bathroom.
"So. Fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" The officer asked. "My boobs." Dean said with a straight face that broke into a smile afterward.
Dean was slammed into the police car's bonnet. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law." The officer said, arresting Dean.
"So. You want to give us you're real name?" An officer asked walking into the office. "I told you. It's Nugent, Ted Nugent." Dean insisted. "I don't think you realize just how much trouble you're in here." The officer warned. "We're talking, like, misdemeanor kind of trouble, or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?" Dean asked.
"You got the faces of 10 missing persons taped to your wall, along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect." The officer explained. "That makes sense because when the first one went missing in '82, I was 3." Dean sassed. "I know you've got partners. One of 'em is an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me... Dean. Is this his?" The officer threw a journal onto the table. It belonged to John.
Dean stared at it. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out of it, I mean it's nine kinds of crazy. But I found this too." The officer said as Dean leaned fowards. It read, 'Dean. 35-111.'. "Now... you're staying right here until you tell me exactly what the hell this means." The officer said, tapping the message.
At Joseph Welch's house, Sam and (Name) were knocking on the door. A man opened the door, looking at the two young people. "Hi, uh, are you Joseph Welch?" Sam asked. "Yeah." Joseph replied.
The three were walking in the junkyard, looking at the old picture. "Yeah, he's older, but that's him." Joseph confirmed. "He came back three-four days ago. He said he was a reporter." Joseph explained. "That's right." (Name) said, nodding. "We're working on a story together." They finished. "Well, I don't know what the hell kind of story you're working on. The questions he asked me." Joseph started. "About your wife, Constance?" Sam asked.
"He asked me where she was buried." Joseph stated. "And where is that again?" (Name) asked. "What, I gotta go through this twice?" Joseph asked, turning to (Name). "It's fact checking, if you don't mind." Sam reassured. "In a plot.. By my old place over in Breckenridge." Joseph answered. "Why did you move?" (Name) asked.
"I'm not gonna live in the house my children died." Joseph answered. "Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" Sam asked. "No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I'd ever known." Joseph answered.
"So, you had a happy marriage?" (Name) asked. "Definitely." Joseph answered, a little confused. "Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time." Sam said, nodding. Sam and (Name) started to walk away. Sam grabbed the keys and unlocked the car. (Name) stopped and got out. "(Nickname), what are you do-" Sam asked.
"Mr. Welch? You ever hear of a woman in white?" (Name) called. "A what?" Joseph asked, turning around. "A woman in white.." (Name) said slower. "Or sometimes, a weeping woman?" They added. "It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon really." (Name) continued.
"Um, they're spirits.. they've been sighted for hundreds if years.. dozens of places. In Hawaii, in Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different woman, you understand?" (Name) asked, walking up to Joseph. At this point, Sam was coming up behind them. "They all share the same story." (Name) added. "What? I don't care much for nonsence." Joseph said, turning to walk away.
"See, when they were alive.. their husbands were unfaithful to them. And thess woman basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children. Then once they realize what they had done, they took their own lives." (Name) explained. Joseph turned to looked at them.
"So, now their spirits are cursed.. walking backroads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again." (Name) finished. Sam was quiet, watcging Joseph's reaction.
"You think.. You think that has something to do with.. Constance? You smartass!" Joseph said, getting in (Name)'s face. "You tell us." They simply said. Joseph shook his head slightly. "I mean, maybe.. maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did.. Constance would never have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here.. And yoh don't come back." Joseph said, sobbing. He turned and went inside his house. The two watched Joseph leave and Sam sighed. They then turned to leave.
"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you? It's my high school locker combo." Dean said. "We gonna do this all night?" The officer said. "We just got a 911." A male officer said as she poked his head in. "Shots fired over at Whitefird Road." The officer continued. "You have to go to the bathroom?" The original officer asked Dean.
"No." Dean said, confused. "Good!" The officer said, handcuffing Dean to the table. Dean was left alone in the room anf he grabbed John's journal. There was a paperclip in it and Dean did what (Name) did best. He picklocked the handcuffs.
Dean got out of the handcuffs and hid behind the door. The police officers went out to the call, leaving Dean alone in the building.
As the Impala raced down the highway, a phone started ringing. "That yours?" Sam asked, looking at (Name). "Nope. It's yours." (Name) replied. Sam reached for his phone and answered it.
"Fake 911 phone call, Sammy! I don't know, that's pretty illegal." Dean said sarcastically from the other side of the phone. "You're welcome." (Name) said, speaking into the phone that was on speaker. "Listen, we got to talk." Dean said.
"Tell me about it, so the husband was unfaithful.." Sam started. "We're dealing with a woman in white." (Name) finished. "She's burief behind her old house, that's would to have been-" Sam said when he was cut off by Dean.
"Sammy? Would you shut up for a second?" Dean said. "I can't figure, why hasn't he destroyed the corpse yet?" Sam said, ignoring Dean. "Well that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho." Dean explained. "What?" (Name) exclaimed. "How do you know?" They asked. "I've got his journal." Dean said.
"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing." Sam stated. "Yeah, well he did this time." Dean argued. "What does it say?" (Name) asked. "It's some old ex-marine crap, when he wants to let us to know where he's going." Dean explained.
"Coordinates. Where to?" Sam asked. "I'm not sure yet." Dean said. "Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam exclaimed. (Name) looked out the windscreen and screamed. Constance was standing in the middle of the road. "SAM!" They yelled. Sam breaked suddenly when he saw Constance.
He ran through her and she disappeared. As the car came to a stop, (Name) was breathing heavily. "Sam! (Name)!" Dean panicked. Sam and (Name) were in shock about the situation. "Take me home." Constance said from the backseat. "Jesus Christ!"  (Name) yelled. Sam looked at Constance through the rearview mirror.
"Take me home." Constance said, a little harsher. "No." Sam said sternly. Then the car's doors locked. (Name) reached for it to unlock it, but the lock wouldn't budge. The car revved and started driving on it's own. "Great job, Sam! You pissed off the ghost!" (Name) yelled from the passenger side.
"It's not my fault, (Name)!" Sam yelled back. Sam was in a state of panic and was trying to find a way to get out. The car kept driving, and eventually came to the old house. "Don't do this." Sam pleaded. "I can never go home." Constance said, looking at the old house.
"You're scared to go home." (Name) realized, both Sam and them turning to looking at Constance, but she was gone. As thet turned  back, they saw Constance in the middle of them. She put herself on top of Sam and leaned in to kiss him.
"Hold me." Constance said, stopping (Name) from getting to Sam. "I'm so cold." She said, going on top of (Name) now. "You can't kill us. He's not unfaithful and I'm not with anyone. We've never been unfaithful." (Name) explained, struggling to breath.
Constance leaned in and was inches away from (Name)'s face. "You will be." She whispered. She closed the distance between the two and put her lips on theirs. "(Name)! No!" Sam shouted from the other side of the car. He reached for the car keys but failed.
(Name) was struggling for breath, and their eyes drooped. Suddenly, Constance pulled away and stared at them. She disappeared with a horrifying look on her face. "Hey, you okay?" He asked, looking at (Name). They lifted their hand and made an 'ok' shape. "Super." They replied, panting.
Suddenly, they started screaming and arched their back slightly. They reached for their chest and grabbed their clothes in pain. "(Name)! Hey! Hey!" Sam yelled, concerned, and rushing by (Name)'s side.
When he moved their hands, he saw 5 blood marks and Constance glitched back into view. She was digging her hands into (Name)'s chest. (Name) was still screaming in agony. Constance's appearence was even more freakish then before.
(Name) hit the seat repeatedly with their fists, while still screaming. Just then, gunshots were heard from Sam's side of the car. The window shattered and Dean was shooting at Constance. She disappeared and Dean stood down.
But she reappeared and  pulled her hand out of (Name)'s chest. (Name) was left grunting and breathing heavily. Sam started the car and stared out the front window. "I'm taking you home." He said menacingly and drove into the house.
"Sam! (Name)!" Dean yelled as the car entered the wall. The damage was done and wood plabks fell from the walls and furniture went everywhere. "Guys!" Dean yelled, concerned as he went to the car to check on them. "You guys okay?" Dean asked, coming up to the window.
"I think." Sam said, panting. "Can you move?" Dean asked (Name) as Sam got out. "Yeah. Help me." (Name) said as Dean opened the door. They got out and saw Constance picking up a photo. She looked upset.
"There you go." Dean said, wrapping (Name)'s arm around his neck. Constance then looked up and stared at Sam angrily. She threw the photo and stepped aside. The dresser got pushed foward and pinned the three to the car. They all groaned in pain as Constance walked backwards. No matter how hard they tried, the dresser didn't move.
Constance started moving towards them when the lights started flickering. She looked around in confusion before laying her gaze on the top of the stairs. Her son and daughter were standing there side by side. Constance walked to the bottom of the stairs and tears formed in her eyes.
The three ghosts looked at each other in silence."You've come home to us, mommy." The kids said synch, holding hands. Constance looks afraid, and slowly backs away. The kids appeared behind her and she starts crying. The kids ran into her and Constance started screaming. A white light surrounds them and Constance started glitching again.
The three ghosts merged and became a puddle of water on the ground. The three siblings were able to breath again and they looked at each other. Dean pushed the dresser and they made their way over to the puddle. "So this is where she drowned her kids." Dean said. (Name) just nodded, speechless. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face 'em." Sam laughed. "You found her weak spot. Nice work, guys." Dean congratulated, slapping (Name) in the chest. "You asshole, I wish I could say the same for you." (Name) said, laughing through the pain.
"What were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak." Sam asked. "Hey! Saved (Name)'s ass. I'll tell you another thing. If you guys screwed up my car.." Dean said, observing Baby. "I'll kill you." Dean finished.
As they drove down Centennial Highway with one broken light, rock music was blasting from the speakers. Sam was looking at John's journal, Dean was, you know, driving, and (Name) was asleep in the back.
"Okay, here's where Dad went. It's Blackwater Ridge, Colorado." Sam said, pointing at a map. "Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked, looking at Sam.  "About 600 miles." (965.606 km.) Sam answered, looking back at the map.
"With enough gas, we can make it by mornin'." Dean said. Sam scoffed and looked at Dean. "Dean, um.." Sam started. Dean's face fell as Sam quieted down. "You're not going." Dean answered for himself. "The interview's in 10 hours. I gotta be there." Sam excused. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home." Dean said, licking his lips.
The two went quuet for the rest of the trip and they could hear (Name)'s soft snoring in the backseat.
When they arrived back on the university's campus, Sam got out. (Name) had woken up by then. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" Sam suggested. "Yeah." (Name) said, with a smile. Dean, on the other hand, his expression was unreadable. "Alright." He said.
"Bye." (Name) said as Sam walked away and they got in the front seat.  "Sam!" Dean yelled over (Name). Sam turned to look at them. "You know, we made hell of a team back there." Dean said. "Yeah!" Sam agreed. (Name) waved as they drove off. Sam waved back and watch as the car left into the night.
Sam got back into his dorm and looked around. "Jess!" He called. "You home?" He asked again. Sam heard the shower running and went to investigate. He sat down and ate something. He sighed and layed down with his eyes closed.
He felt relieved to be back home. That was until he opened his eyes. He had felt drops on his forehead, and flinched each time. He opened his eyes and they widened as soon as he saw Jessica on the ceiling, just like Mary. A slash on her stomach and stuck to the ceiling
"No!" He screamed, sitting up on the bed. Just as he did, Jessica burst into flames and Dean kicked open the door. "Sam!" He yelled, looking around. "Jess!" Sam yelled from the other room. "Sam!" (Name) yelled looking into the bedroom, and they saw Sam. "Dean! Sam!" They yelled, getting their older brothers attention. "No! No!" Sam yelled, in tears.
"We gotta get out!" (Name) said, pushing Sam out the door. "Jess! Jess! No!" Sam yelled, struggling with (Name). Then fire was exploded around the room. As they were pushing Sam, (Name)'s lungs were burning from inhaling smoke. "S-Sam.. Com-... come on.." They said, slowimg down and eventually passing out. "(Name)!" Sam yelled, picking them up and rushing out the door with his unconsious sibling in his arms.
There were 2 firetrucks and police cars everywhere outside. The fire had been put out, (Name) was taken care of, but still a little weak. Sam was on the boot with (Name when Dean walked over. They got off and opened it when Dean walked closer.
Sam was quiet and wasn't talking to either of his siblings. (Name) rubbed his back and gave him a side hug. Sam sniffled and loaded a gun.  He threw the gun in and put a hand around (Name).
"We got work to do." Sam said in a strong voice. Dean then closed the boot with a slam.
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 months
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Universal Love
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by anonymous
Synopsis: You ask your big brothers some deep questions.
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The past few days had been very quiet in the Winchester’s lives. Lately there had been a lot of waiting around in the bunker, and the siblings had been able to spend a lot of time together.
You seemed particularly quiet out of the three, and Sam had a sneaking suspicion he knew why.
In talking with Chuck, he’d let slip that the Winchester brothers were a particularly favorite storyline of his. Not the Winchester siblings; just the brothers.
To find out that the all powerful being that created you didn’t really care about your existence had to feel pretty bad. Sam hoped you weren’t taking it too hard.
“Do you think we’re siblings in every universe?”
“What?” Sam looked up in surprise when you broke the silence.
“Well, we know there’s a multiverse. Do you think we’re all siblings in every universe?”
“Who cares?” Dean shrugged through a mouthful of pie.
“Oh.” You seemed suddenly shy about your question. “I don’t know, just wondering I guess.”
Dean seemed to pick up on your hurt.
“Hey, I’m sure there’s at least a few more yous out there.”
You smiled. “You think so?”
“Oh yeah,” Dean chuckled. “Every one of them just as annoying as you.”
“Hey!” You whined when Dean rubbed your head.
Sam smiled as he watched you two. Dean grabbed onto you when you tried to move away from him, and he pinned you down on the couch and started tickling you.
“Sto-hop!” You squealed, and Sam stepped over to help Dean pin you down.
“Hey,” Sam said after a few minutes when the three of you settled down. “We’re siblings in this universe, and that’s all that matters.”
“Yeah.” You smiled. “I guess you’re right.”
“And every other universe is just missing out,” Dean said. “Because we come as a trio, and that’s the only way I’ll ever want it.”
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl
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l0velysmut · 9 days
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family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”
me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:
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supercap2319 · 2 years
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Mary: “Who the hell are you two?”
Y/N: “Trust me. You don’t want to know.”
John: “Try us.”
Y/N: *Looks at Jack and sighed* “Well, to put it simply. My name is is Y/N Winchester. Younger brother of Dean and Sam Winchester. You’re sons.”
Mary: “Sons? What are you talking about?”
John: “Are you saying that Mary and I?”
Y/N: “Yup. The white picket fence and three kids. This is your future son in law, Jack Kline. He’s angel. Well, half actually.”
Jack: “Hello, John. Nice to see you again Mary.”
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shelbybyr · 6 months
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When you run out of fics to read
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itshelia · 3 months
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Is it just me or everyone imagine their fav characters that they are obsessing over in real life???
Like I'll be at work and then I imagine that bitch sitting next to me, talking to me and admiring me while I FUCKING KNOW THAT I HAVENT KISSED A MALE SPECIES IN MY ENTIRE LIFE
I don't know if that's sign of a fucking mental problem or what but I swear if I'm even Slightly upset or tired of my life i WILL open tumblr and start imagining them or talking to them (aka my wall. It be sitting there like the fuck gurl im not your man)
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notanettelmao · 2 years
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Second Chance at First Line pt.3
Also on AO3 and Wattpad
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(A Teen Wolf rewrite)
Fandoms: Teen Wolf, Supernatural Warnings: usual Teen Wolf stuff Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x reader Words: 1,8k
Second Chance at First Line pt.2 // next>
Just as the sun set, Derek walked out of the Hale house ruins and got into his car. He started the engine and drove away, not knowing that the three teenagers watched him from a distance hidden in Stiles' jeep. When Derek's car got far enough from the house, Stiles drove the jeep closer to the house and parked in front of it. The trio jumped out of the car, taking shovels from the back and meeting at the front of the jeep. Stiles handed both of his friends a flashlight. Then they all walked a short distance to the place where Scott smelled the blood.
"Wait, something is different," Scott stopped and sniffed the air. Stiles swallowed next to him.
"Different how?" Y/N asked, getting ready to dig.
"I don't know," Scott frowned, looking at Stiles who just shrugged. Scott looked like he was about to say something else, but he got interrupted.
"Are you two gonna help me, or am I supposed to do this all by myself?" Y/N asked. The boys looked at her, noticing how she already had a pile of dirt next to her.
"When did you even-"
"Let's just get this over with," Scott interrupted Stiles. They both walked the few steps towards Y/N and jammed their shovels into the ground. They all dug for several minutes in complete silence.
"This is taking way too long," Scott complained. Stiles only rolled his eyes and continued digging.
"You have never dug up a grave in your life and it's showing," Y/N mumbled under her breath. Both boys stopped digging and just stared at her. She looked up from the ground and laughed at their shocked faces.
"Why are you guys always so shocked when I say stuff like that? I swear it is normal if you are a hunter. Well, at least the kind my family are."
"You dug up a grave before?" Scott asked, sounding more than shocked.
"Well, yeah. How else would I burn the remains of the person to get rid of the vengeful spirit?" Y/N made a face and continued digging.
"Of course, a vengeful spirit, hm," Stiles mumbled under his breath. He then looked at Scott.
"Just keep digging," he said, continuing to dig himself.
"What if he comes back?" Scott asked, still just standing there looking at his two friends. Y/N sighed, leaning against her shovel.
"Then we get the hell out of here."
"What if he catches us?" Scott asked again.
"I have a plan for that," Stiles said, never stopping the digging.
"Which is?" Both Y/N and Stiles looked at each other when Scott asked once more.
"You ran one way. I ran the other. Y/N... climbs a tree or something," Stiles waved his hand around while explaining.
"I hate that plan," Scott said. Y/N groaned.
"Can you two shut up and keep digging or we might actually find out what happens when he comes back?" She poked both of them with the shovel handle and continued digging. Just as she jammed her shovel into the ground, it came into contact with something under the dirt.
"Oh, stop, stop, stop!" Stiles said and kneeled down.
"I know I'm supposed to stop digging when I hit something, Stiles. This is not my first time digging up a dead body-"
"Hurry!" Scott said as he knelt down next to Stiles and they both used their hands to get rid of the dirt, uncovering a bundle of rough fabric tied together with ropes. They started untying the knots, making Y/N roll her eyes once again. She bent down and pulled a small knife from her shoe.
"Move," she pushed Stiles out of the way, making him fall on his butt.
"Hey!" He whined but quickly stopped noticing her cutting the ropes.
"Thadaaah!" Y/N put the knife back into her shoe and jumped out of the hole. Stiles followed her out, leaving Scott to unwrap the bundled fabric. As he did so, all three of them screamed and backed away, falling on their butts.
"Son of a-"
"What the hell is that?!" Y/N and Stiles yelled at the same time.
"It's a wolf," Scott said.
"We can see that dumbass, what he meant is, didn't you say you smelled human blood?" Y/N asked as she got up from the ground looking at the wolf once again. Scott threw his hands into the air, not knowing what to say.
"I told you something was different," he mumbled.
"This doesn't make sense," Y/N looked around.
"We gotta get out of here. C'mon, help me cover it up," Stiles said and started pushing the dirt back into the hole, Scott following his actions. Stiles looked up, ready to tell Y/N to also help them when he noticed something.
"Do you see that flower?" He asked, stopping everything he was doing. That got Y/N's attention. She looked down and gasped.
"What about it?" Scott asked.
"I think it's wolfsbane," Stiles explained, looking at Y/N for confirmation.
"It is," she said, kneeling next to the plant. She looked at her hands making sure she pulled her sleeve over her hand before she touched the flower.
"What's wolfsbane?" Scott asked again.
"Scott, do you even know anything, or is Stiles' brain working for the both of you?" Y/N shot him a look. She then pulled the plant, noticing the rope tied to it.
"Hm."
"Uh... haven't you ever seen The Wolf Man?" Stiles asked Scott, who just shook his head.
"Lon Chaney, Junior? Claude Rains? The original, classic Werewolf movie?" Stiles continued listing stuff.
"No," Scott made a face. Stiles shook his head.
"You are so unprepared for this," he mumbled, pushing himself up to his feet. He then noticed Y/N walking in circles around them.
"Uhm, what are you doing?" He asked her. She looked him in the eyes.
"Making my head spin. What do you think I'm doing?" She waved the plant in her hand and pointed at the rope spiral.
"Whoa," he quickly walked over to her and helped her to get the rest of the rope from the ground.
"Uhm guys," Scott called them over to the hole. When they all looked down, Stiles flinched.
"What the-"
"Now that looks more like the sight I'm used to," Y/N mumbled as she looked at the upper half of the female body staring back up at them from the grave.
⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
Scott and Y/N were leaning against the jeep, watching Derek get marched out of the ruins of the house in handcuffs by one of the deputies. Derek looked over at them, well mostly over at Scott, with a scowl that caused Scott to look down at the ground. Y/N was looking around as she lost Stiles from her sight a few minutes ago. She watched Derek getting pushed into the police car when she saw Stiles sneaking out from the woods towards the car with Derek in it.
"What is he-" She mumbled and gave Scott a look before she ran towards Stiles. She pushed herself into the car just as he was climbing in.
"What are you doing?" Stiles whisper yelled at her.
"What am I doing? What are you doing?" She whisper yelled back at him. They both frowned at each other for a few seconds and then turned around to frown at Derek. Derek's head was tilted down, but it was obvious he was listening to their conversation.
"Okay, just so you know, I am not afraid of you," Stiles said. Derek's head stayed tilted down, but he moved his eyes so he was now scowling at Stiles.
"Okay, maybe I am. Doesn't matter. I just wanna know something." Stiles continued. Y/N put a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing when Stiles nervously shifted in his seat.
"The girl you killed, she was a werewolf." When Stiles saw Derek didn't react he continued talking.
"She was a different kind, wasn't she? I mean, she could turn herself into an actual wolf, and I know Scott can't do that. Is that why you killed her?"
"Stiles I literally explained to you how many kinds of werewolves are there and you ask him that-" Y/N frowned at her friend.
"Shush, you said nothing about them being able to fully shift."
"Yeah, well if you asked I could have found the answer-" Both of them were too into their little fight, that they didn't notice Derek lifting his head up and looking at them.
"Why are you so worried about me, when it's your friend who's the problem?" Derek said, making the two teenagers flinch.
"When he shifts on the field, what do you think they're gonna do, huh? Just keep cheering him on?" Derek continued. Stiles gulped. He knew Derek wasn't wrong.
"I will take care of him if that happens," Y/N said. Stiles shot her a look, Derek just looked from Stiles to her, his expression never changing. He stared at her for a few seconds and then just looked back at Stiles.
"I can't stop him from playing, but you can." Derek leaned forward so his and Stiles' faces were only inches apart.
"Are you two gonna kiss now or-" Y/N mumbled. Derek ignored her.
"And trust me, you want to," he said quietly. Before Stiles or Y/N had the chance to process what he said, the door of the car opened. Y/N was pulled out by her arm. Stiles wasn't so lucky and Y/N tried not to laugh when she saw him getting pulled out by his ear.
"Ow. Ow. Ow." Stiles repeated until his father let him go and stood in front of both of the teenagers.
"What the hell do you two think you're doing?!" the sheriff asked. Y/N looked down at her shoes.
"We are just trying to help!" Stiles said.
"Okay, well, how 'bout you help me understand exactly how you came upon this?" The older Stilinski looked at Y/N and then back at his son.
"We were looking for Scott's inhaler," Y/N stared, looking at Stiles for help.
"Which he dropped when?" The sheriff was impatient. Stiles hesitated.
"The other night?"
"The other night... when you were out here, looking for the first half of the body?" Stiles nodded at his father's question.
"Yes." He agreed.
"The night that you told me you were alone and Scott was at home?" Stilinski raised his eyebrow. Y/N bit her lip shooting a look at Scott who was still standing next to the jeep.
"Yes," said Stiles. He then realized what he said.
"Oh, crap," he mumbled. The sheriff looked annoyed.
"So you lied to me."
"That depends on how you define lying..." Stiles looked at Y/N.
"Well, I define it as not telling the truth. How do you define it?" Stiles looked back at his father.
"Um... reclining your body in a horizontal position?" Stiles said, but it sounded more like a question. Y/N face palmed next to him, quietly cursing as she didn't expect to punch herself with such force as she did.
"Get the hell out of here," Stilisnki shook his head.
"Absolutely," Stiles said quickly and pulled Y/N away by her arm.
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