Synopsis: It’s been a long time since Dean has heard your name out loud. God knows he didn’t want it to be like this
NOTE: Sorry this took so long, gosh! I’ve been very busy with working on an original novel, and I’ve also been working through a Diploma of Business. I hope you like it!
REQUESTED
MASTERLIST
The phone rang.
Dean stared at it for a moment, tempted to just let it ring and ring and ring until it rang out and then the silence could return. He stared, long and hard, and he waited. And waited. The ringing stopped. He relaxed. The ringing started anew. He tensed again.
Sam cleared his throat and frowned, watching his brother watch the phone. “You gonna answer it?” He asked very quietly, even though he knew Dean wouldn’t. Dean wouldn’t pick up, because it wouldn’t be Cas waiting on the other end.
“I don’t recognise the number.” Dean’s voice, so gruff after days of disuse and misuse and ragged panic attacks that tore his throat to shreds, made Sam wince away. Who knew that the one way to kill Dean Winchester was to kill the angel he’d loved.
The phone rang again. Sam reached across the table, didn’t spare the number a glance, and answered it.
“Sam Winchester,” he greeted politely. “Who is this?”
“Hi Sam,” an unfamiliar female voice answered. “This is Wichita Specialty Hospital calling. I’m looking for your brother, Dean?”
Sam’s frown deepened, and he spared his brother a lost look. Dean just stared back at him with a dead look. “Dean’s unavailable at the moment,” Sam said evenly, looking away again. God, he hated to see his brother like this. “Can I take a message?”
“Actually, if Dean isn’t there at the moment, I’d like to talk to you. You are the brother of Y/N Winchester, correct?”
Sam’s veins froze. His heartbeat got loud. The world faded away. He couldn’t breathe properly. Why did his ribs hurt? “Yes,” he breathed out shakily. “Yeah, she’s my older sister.”
Dean made a wounded noise and stood up.
“We’re currently caring for her here. She had a bad motorcycle crash, and it recovering in our Neuro/Trauma Recovery wing. You and Dean are of course, listed as next of kin.”
Sam’s tongue was numb and yet not-numb, and really he just wanted to wake up now. “How bad is it?”
The nurses voice went softer, sympathy bleeding into her tone. Sam gritted his teeth. He didn’t want sympathy. “She was in a coma for a week. She’s awake, but her progress is slow. We’re worried that we may lose her at this rate. That’s why we called. We would like you and your brother to stop by, so the correct paperwork and contingency plans may be completed.”
“We’ll be there tomorrow.” Sam hung up, cutting off whatever response the nurse had been giving him.
Fuck.
You were in hospital.
That fucking motorbike.
“Where are we going?” Dean already had the car keys in hand, wearing a fresh flannel and his boots. His forest eyes, though still dull, were determined and angry. Sam hurried after him.
“Wichita Specialty Hospital,” he said. He pretended not to notice the way Dean’s hands shook when they gripped the wheel.
It was all falling apart.
.
“Fuck Y/N,” Sam breathed shakily, reaching out and gripping onto your limp hand. Your foggy eyes didn’t shift and you continued to stare vacantly at the wall.
Dean stood off to the side, jaw clenched hard enough that Sam actually thought he might break some teeth. “I told her,” he said. “I warned against that fucking bike.”
“You also told her that she was the family outcast, so I really don’t think she was going to listen to you.”
Dean looked away. He had a lot of regrets about you, his baby sister. You were the middle child, always the one to fade into the background, seep through the cracks, get left behind in a motel because John didn’t give a fuck about the girl who had Mary’s eyes and Mary’s smile.
Dean had driven away too.
Dean had done a more damage than John though. He’d never forgiven himself for that.
And now you were here, nothing more than an empty body with head trauma so severe you had seizures every other hour and you had minimal cognitive functions, and-
What else had the nurse said-
You-
Fucking-
He couldn’t think-
He-
“Dean!” Sam’s voice was sharp but not angry, and Dean snapped back to himself harsh enough to prompt a headache to erupt in his head. He winced. Sam didn’t comment, merely motioned with his eyes to your face. “Hey, she’s looking at you.”
Oh. So you were. Vacant eyes stared through Dean, seeing all the way down to his withered and brittle soul. He curled his shoulders inward. “Y/N,” he said, voice splintering and breaking and crumbling to dust.
It was all he could say. Your name.
There was no response. Dean didn’t really know why he was surprised.
Paralysed.
The word came to him between one blink and the next, slamming through his veins like a fucking drug - making his legs weak, his arms throb, his chest hurt. The crash had done something to your spine, and you were paralysed and brain dead and-and-and-
John would have said, “Put her down.”
Dean didn’t know how not to say that to Sam. Maybe he was too much like his father. Maybe there really was no saving him.
“Dean,” Sam said quietly. “I know that look. We’re gonna help her.”
But Dean didn’t want to. It was selfish and horrible and wrong, but they didn’t have Cas anymore and you looked so pathetic and if you weren’t going to get better-
“That fucking bike,” he said again, because if there was one thing he blamed almost as much as he blamed himself, it was that fucking motorcyle. It was always gonna be that fucking motorcyle.
Sam sighed, like he’d expected it. “The doctors say she may recover with help from brain stimulant medication-”
“And then what?” Dean snapped. “She’s paralysed. We don’t have Cas to help her out. She won’t ever be a hunter again, Sam! It’ll kill her to know that when she gets better.”
She won’t ever get better.
Sam’s lips went dangerously thin. “You’re giving up on her?”
“Yes.” Dean suddenly felt very, very tired. “Yes I am.”
“You never gave up on me.”
“I’m finding that I’m giving up on everything lately. Y/N wouldn’t appreciate us confining her to doctors and medicine and hospitals for the rest of her life. Think about Bobby.”
“Dean-”
“Think about us, Sam. What would you do if you woke up in hospital, paralysed, with lasting brain injuries! You’d hate it! I’d probably kill myself!”
“Dean!”
Dean threw his hands up, because he was tired and he was losing everyone he loved, and he really just wanted to go find somewhere quiet and dark and go to sleep and yeah maybe he didn’t want to wake up.
Sam shook his head. “We can’t kill her.”
Dean stared at him hollowly, feeling the last ember of passion wither away and vanish under the dark blanket of depression and hopelessness. “We already have.”
Let the damn world save itself.
Dean was done.
.
Sam wasn’t in the room when the nurses put you to sleep for the final time. Fuck it, he wasn’t even in the state. Dean was.
Dean watched, and Dean signed the paperwork, and Dean burned your body.
.
And Dean was the one who slept with a gun under his fingers, so that when he woke up with your name on his lips, he could stare at it until the sun came up.
Sam didn’t talk about you again.
Sam let his phone ring.
Dean sat and let the silence eat away whatever sort of destiny he had left.
Pairing : Winchesters x Sister!reader. John (mentioned), Adam (Mentioned) Lucifer & Michael (Mentioned)
Word count : 2,151
Warnings : Angsty. Dean is less than thrilled. Maybe he redeems himself a little. Read to find out.
A/N : This was written for @miss-spnm0mma and her 200 follower challenge. My prompt was : “I did not make a pie for three reasons. One, because I do not have any pie ingredients. Two, because I don’t actually know how to make pie. And three, because I’m not your bitch.”
You remembered the first time you found out who you really were. You were in a bar and Dean was hitting on your friend, so that left you talking to Sam. Interest was there, until something you said peaked the interest of an older man seated close by.
After answering a few questions for him, you asked why he wanted to know these things. You got your answer.
You were a Winchester by blood.
So were the three of them.
Dean had stormed off pissed when he heard how old you were. Just a few months younger than Sam.
You remembered when you found out the whole truth of who you really were. A voice called out to you, asking you for permission. You thought you were crazy.
And then there were two, fighting for you.
You had a number for John that you hadn't used in years. He had barely been there after finding you, so when he seemed to vanish, you figured he'd lost interest. But you called, planning to just ask about family history of mental illness while you debated checking into a mental hospital. No one answered.
John had also left you a number for emergencies. It was Dean's.
You drove out of town and met him in a diner somewhere. He rudely and carelessly told you John had died years ago. When you questioned why you weren't called, he'd simply said “Why would you be? You're not one of us.”
You slapped him across the face with everything you had and stormed out. That was your first fight with Dean, and not your last.
Sam found you outside crying and you broke down completely, sobbing as he held you. He lead you to the motel they were staying in, and while he did so, he laughed about you slapping his brother. “Oh yeah, you're a Winchester.”
Once calmed down and sitting quietly in the motel room, he asked why you had suddenly needed to meet. You told him of the voices and his face paled. Quickly, he pulled out his phone. “Dean, we got another possible vessel. Michael and Lucifer, and it sounds like they're fighting over who gets her while they wait for us.” Your face paled.
Dean walked in and, reluctantly, filled you in on everything. All of it. At first you had laughed, shaking your head. “I guess insanity does run in the family… at least now I know..”
Your mind changed two nights later when the Angels showed up to try and get a yes for Michael. You ran back to the brother who hated you faster than you'd ever done anything in your life.
And then the apocalypse came and went. You mourned Sam, and Adam, who you had only met the one time, and then tried to move on.
But the hunting world kept pulling you back in. You were a Winchester by blood, and every baddy on the planet seemed to know it.
It took a long time to hunt him down, but years after saying goodbye, you got a hold of your big brother, told him you were in trouble, and he groaned. “Yeah, Yeah, head to Lebanon, call when you get here.” And he hung up.
When you finally walked into the bunker, you froze seeing Sam get up from where he sat reading. “Sam… you- you were..”
“Just in the cage, not dead.” he chuckled. “I've died a few times since.. but alive and well for now.”
You turned to Dean. “You couldn't tell me that!? You let me think he was dead!”
“Hey, I thought he was gone too!” he shouted back. “I had a life, a family, until he showed up at my door a year later, and he wasn't exactly-”
You slapped him across the face again, stunning him. “Years, Dean. You knew how hard I took it, and not once in all those years did you think to call and tell me?”
“You’re not a Winchester.” He growled and stormed off, leaving you and Sam where you were.
“In his defense,” Sam started. “I wasn’t exactly me when I came out.” He gave you a tight lipped smile. “I had no soul.”
“Doesn’t matter, Sam. He had years to tell me you were alive. I mourned you.” You looked up at him.
“So did he.” Sam answered quietly. “More than once.”
While you stayed in the bunker, you tried your hardest to keep from fighting with Dean. But that was easier said than done. He was barely letting you settle in. You felt like you had one foot out the door, which he’d throw in your face, and you scream at him that he was the one pushing you out.
A few days became a week. A week became a month. A month became three.
You were well into cooking when he walked into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” He asked roughly. “I told Sammy I was cooking tonight.”
“I’ve been cooking for an hour, Dean.” You turned, and he rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever. Don’t eat it if you don’t want to. I need to get started on desert. When I’m done in here, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”
“I like pie.” He grumbled before leaving the room.
“That’s good for you.”
They were sitting, and you served them first, letting them start eating while you waited the last two minutes for desert to be done in the oven. Sam happily commented on how good dinner was, but Dean didn’t say a word as he ate.
The timer went off, and you reached into the oven to pull out the chocolate cupcakes, placing them on top of the stove to cool. You pulled off the oven mitts and picked up your plate as Dean looked over and spoke.
“What happened to the pie? We eat pie, here. Not cake.”
Taking a deep breath, you shut your eyes and willed down the anger that had been building for months. You could hear Sam kick his brother under the table, but he just ignored it. And you’d had enough.
“I did not make a pie for three reasons. One, because I do not have any pie ingredients.” You slowly turned towards them, plate in hand. “Two, because I don’t actually know how to make pie. And three, because I’m not your bitch.” You slammed your plate down onto the table, food falling off it from the impact and you stormed out.
“Way to go, Dean.” Sam sighed, letting his elbows rest on the table. “If you were trying to force her to leave, I think you finally succeeded. Hope you’re happy.”
You were standing in your room, back to the door and eyes closed. You could hear his footsteps coming closer. You waited until he stepped in the room to speak, without turning to look at him. “Why does he hate me so much?” Sam didn’t think you had heard him come in, so he was taken aback for a moment. “You don’t.. Do you?” You turned to look at him now, eyes full of pain and anger.
Sam sighed. “No, I don’t hate you.” He shook his head. “Dean is…” He leaned against the door frame as he thought about what to say, and how to word it all. “I’m going to be honest with you. I wasn’t thrilled either, to find out you were our sister. At first.”
“But we’ve been fine for years, you and me. Or would have been had I known you were fucking alive. He’s fine with Adam.. so what’s wrong with me? Is it because I’m a girl?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Then what the fuck did I do!?” You screamed.
“Dean has something I never had.” Sam could see the tears brimming in your eyes, and he needed to try and find a way to make you understand.
“What, Sam? Other than the stick up his ass.”
“Memories.” He answered quietly, eyes on you.
“Memories? Of what?”
“Mom and dad. Happy, not so happy.” Sam shrugged. “Mom died when I was 6 months old, you would have been just about 2 months?” You knew he wasn’t looking for an actual answer to that, so you stayed quiet. “Dean was pissed when we found out about Adam.” Sam chuckled sadly. “We both were. Because Adam got something we didn’t get. A dad. Our dad would visit him, birthdays, take him to ball games.. With us, dad wasn’t even around on Christmas. Most of my memories are just me and Dean waiting for dad.”
“So, what, because I didn’t grow up with John, fuck me?”
“No. No.. Adam happened when our mom was already dead. He couldn’t fault dad for that.. But you..”
“Your mom was still alive..” You breathed out.
Sam nodded. “He has memories that were happy, but somewhere, in those happy memories, his dad was with another woman, making another family. He was pissed at dad for that.. He was really pissed at dad for that. Even with the memories of them being separated from time to time, mom was always up on this pedestal, untouchable. Perfect. And mom and dads love.. They were soulmates. Unbreakable, once in a lifetime kinda love. Like, fairy tales. Those were truths he held on to, even dad held on to those truths. But you’re living breathing proof that they aren’t as true as he thinks.” You stood there quietly, letting it all sink in. “No matter how Dean feels, you’re our sister. You’re family. Family doesn’t get left behind.”
“Except Adam.” You mumbled, and Sam froze at that. “And me. We’ll never really be family, will we? John’s kids or not. We’ll never be family.” He watched you wipe a tear of your cheek and turn your back to him again.
“Y/N..” You ignored him, the conversation had run its course and Sam felt horrible. Turning, he headed up the hall, giving you some space.
After Sam’s footsteps had long gone silent, you grabbed your suitcase and started packing. You folded things carefully and deliberately as you packed them away and sniffled.
“What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Dean? I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“Maybe go back home?” There was silence. “I don’t know, anywhere but here.”
“This is home.”
“No, Dean, this is your home. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
“It’s yours too, you’re family-”
“Am I?” Your anger was starting to show again. You’d always had a temper, and it was rearing its ugly head once again.
“You think I’d let you in here if you weren’t?”
You rolled your eyes. “Well, lucky for you, Dean, I’ve always been a firm believer in ‘Fuck blood, make your own family’. So fuck you. Blood obviously doesn’t mean shit to you past Sam, anyways.” You were angry folding clothes and shoving them in the suitcase, now.
Dean growled, getting frustrated. “That’s bullshit.”
“No, you know what’s bullshit? You’re bullshit.” You pointed at him. “You’re punishing me for something I didn’t do! Your father fucked my mom, GET OVER IT! You don’t want me around, just fucking say so. Grow some god damn balls, Dean. Because I don’t deserve this. You treat me like I stole him from you, I didn’t. I was just fucking born.” Your hands went up, then fell back to your sides. “And thank you, dear brother, for making me fucking regret being born at all.”
Your slammed the lid of your suitcase closed and zipped it. Grabbing the handle you went to storm past him, but he took hold of the handle, his hand closing over yours. “You’re not going. They’ll hunt you-”
“Like you care. One more of John’s kids out of your way.” You saw how those words hurt him, and part of you regretted saying them, but you were tired of how he’d been treating you.
He seemed to deflate. “You’re f-”
“I swear to fucking god, Dean.” You shook your head. “If you feed me some ‘you’re family’ bullshit like Sam did, I’m going to slap you upside your dumbass head.”
His eyes met yours for a moment, half his mouth curving up into a smile and he chuckled. He actually stood there and chuckled, his eyes closing, his face relaxing.
“What’s so fucking funny? I’ve slapped you before, I’ll do it again-”
“You sound just like dad.” He smiled. “Maybe you are a Winchester after all. Come on.” He took the suitcase from you and put it aside before walking out.
“What?” He had started down the hall out of view, so you walked just past the doorway and looked out at him. “Where? Why?”
“Kitchen.” He didn’t stop walking, didn’t wait to be sure you’d follow, he just spoke over his shoulder. “You didn't eat. While you eat, I’m going to teach you to make pie. We’re Winchesters, sweetheart. We eat pie.”
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Request: Could you write a songfic for the Song lions by skillet?
Word Count: ~4 000
Warnings: cursing, gore (blood, multiple stab wounds, gunshots), reference to previous gore (internal bleeding), angst/sadness all around
A/N: sorry i had exams and then writers block and yeah it’s a lame excuse but that’s all i got for you right now:/ also i didn’t really know what to write for this fic (but i managed!! I think) so i kinda just took how this made me feel and tried to write it out :)
Y/N shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the dirt sideroad Dean had parked on only 12 hours before. The impala hummed underneath her as she backed out onto the road. The smooth road was all she could focus on as she drove straight by their motel. They had all they needed, and there was only a few clothing items that were there. She couldn’t bring herself to stop for even a moment; any second she wasn’t focused on the road blurred her vision and pushed down the gas pedal a little bit farther. She drove right out past the Come back again soon! sign that marked the town exit without much of a second thought.
There wasn’t anything she really wanted to think about anyways.
Breathe.
Somewhere along the way, she’d realized that her brothers weren’t behind her. Maybe between the gash dripping into her eyes and the way her ankle popped in and out of place every couple seconds had distracted her. Maybe she only noticed when she broke the edge of the clearing and slowed for a second to look for the sleek black car she knew so well. Maybe she just thought them invincible; the Winchesters, notoriously infamous for scaring off even Death himself. She could trust them enough that they’d overcome anything that came at them.
But you can’t defy death and live to tell the tale.
Y/N stood at the edge of the clearing for another couple minutes before trudging right back in. Even wounded, her brothers often ran ahead of her. Not too far that they couldn’t reach her in a moment’s notice, of course, but it wasn’t likely that they were ahead of her. Now, as she scanned her surroundings, something began to build up in her chest. Flashes of every hunt gone wrong sped in front of her eyes, a collage of curses and blood and shallow breathing she couldn’t hear over her own. Suddenly it was dizzying, and she was lucky to catch herself on something- she couldn’t quite see what it was- before she crumbled. Dean’s voice, bright and clear as her vision, rang through her head.
Breathe.
She swallowed. Straightening herself up only proved that the clicking noise in her back wasn’t always harmless. Gritting her teeth, she shuffled her way pack, slowly picking up the pace until she was running back to the old house she’d just managed to escape. Her breath hitched in her throat.
Fighting angels and demons and everything in between had let Y/N’s memory slip; the werewolves had been stronger than she anticipated, and something of confusion washed over the three before they realized that they couldn’t rely on prophets and lone supernatural entities for tips and tricks for each of their hunts. They were still good at what they did (“Winchesters!” one of the older ones had shouted before they attempted to break down the doors that had already been boarded up) but being out of practice began to show when they’d reduced the pack to fight one-on-one.
Until Y/N noticed one slip out through the door they’d come in through.
Obviously, her first instinct was to rush out and deal with him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard her brothers call out to her, telling her to stay, but it was all white noise in the back of her mind; she could do this. She had to.
It was clear that this was their first fight. Y/N had dealt with them in less than ten minutes before leaning against a tree for some support. Her brothers, she had assumed, would be there soon. It wasn’t that long of a hunt, and none of them were eager to stay any longer than they had to. She had caught her breath for a minute more before turning around.
If only she hadn’t waited.
The cabin was quiet when she came back. Of course, her brothers naturally knew not to make noise, but this… this was different. It rang through the woods and pricked up the hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck. Her footsteps thundered and echoed down the hallway like a metronome, fading into the background as she stepped over pool after pool of wetness that drew up bile in her throat. It finally led to the main room where she’d last seen her brothers. A startled sound of something between a moan and a gasp escaped her mouth like a sob of relief when she saw one of the werewolves on the floor. Her eyes wandered over to the staircase across from her, the faintest trace of a bloodied footprint imprinted on every other step. It was too small for her brothers, quite clearly.
“Someone’s in a rush,” Y/N murmured, stepping over the body and making her way up the stairs, careful to not disturb to the prints.
Y/N’s feet made no sound as she entered the upper level and checked the first three rooms. All were empty of bodies or blood, but the fourth door was opened just a crack. Lights were on inside, halting Y/N. She held her breath, waiting for some sort of sign that might lead her to her brothers. There was nothing. She nudged open the door with her boot.
There was barely any time to register the clatter of her gun on the floor before she was shoving the door open, denting the wall where the knob slammed into it as Y/N rushed over and dropped down to where she saw her brother.
Sam was on the floor, limbs splayed at uncomfortable angles that made Y/N bite down her lunch that was working its way up her throat. Her hands hovered restlessly, afraid to touch him like he’d bite her if he did. Finally she rested two of her right fingers on his neck checking for a pulse. Feeling nothing, she pushed harder.
“Damn it, Sam,” she whispered. Her voice cracked on her brother’s name, swallowing thickly when she shuffled back hurriedly to flip him over.
His front was covered in blood, red and staunchy and dried at the edges. Where Y/N dared to look, she saw multiple stab wounds. Her hands were suddenly climbing his, like they could coax life back into them. She noticed bruises around his wrists, matching the ones on his neck. He had been bound. And stabbed. Six times.
Y/N threw up against the far wall. Her instinct threw her away from her brother’s body, as though Sam would magically get up and reprimand her for getting his jacket dirty.
But he wouldn’t wake up. He’d never wake up. Because Sam was dead and he was gone and there was no way she could bring him back because Dean wouldn’t let her-
Dean.
Her eyes flew around the room, throat burning from the upheaval that suddenly didn’t even matter anymore. She was vaguely aware that her eyes strayed as far as possible from Sam’s body, but paid it no mind. Dean could help her. Dean would solve this problem. He always did.
But Dean wasn’t there.
“Dean.” She stood up, shaking legs and shuddering breaths hiding themselves behind a strong voice that Y/N didn’t know she had. It echoed in the room, the only noise in an otherwise silent house. She began to make her way out of the room. “Dean, where are you?”
About halfway through the door, her body froze. Sam was still there. He was still in the room, cold and alone and bleeding out on the rug so intensely that Y/N couldn’t tell what colour it was. She fought another wave of bile.
She would come back. It killed her and she wanted to slump on the wall and let the tears and snot run down her face and have Sam wake her up from the nightmare this surely was and tell her that it’d be okay, that he was still alive.
But he wasn’t. So she couldn’t.
Y/N walked down the hall.
There were no other floors. Y/N vaguely remembered seeing a widows walk on the roof, but doubted either Winchester would venture up there. Dean would piss himself. She smirked at the thought before remembering her situation.
Dean hadn’t responded to her calls earlier. Obviously, there were multiple explanations for that, but Y/N didn’t really like any of them. Best case scenario, he was being held captive for some sort of ransom or whatever. Worst case….
Didn’t matter. She’d find him. She always did.
The second floor was made up of a hallway that circled around the walls, with rooms on the outside, with the first floor visible from anywhere Y/N had walked. It was a simple rectangle, meaning that she had a view of every space in the main room on the first floor. It was a mess, to say the least; fighting monsters wasn’t exactly a clean fight, in any sense of the word. By now, Y/N had circled the top landing, checking in rooms and calling out her brother’s name every few minutes. Dean would scold her. Sam would take her side, but give her that look that said you should know better, please be safe, don’t you ever do that again. She risked it, but it didn’t really feel like she was taking a chance with anything. She had nothing to lose.
Her brother was dead. Her other sibling was missing. She wanted to throw up- again.
She jutted her jaw out to the side, sucking her cheeks into her mouth in that way Dean always made fun of her for. If he could see her right now, he’d laugh, shoving her gently as he taunted her with things like nice duckface and if that’s how your first kiss is gonna be then I’m not sure you’ll get a second one and all those things that never failed to make her roll her eyes.
“Move y’r jaw any farther over an’ it’ll unhinge,” a voice called from behind Y/N. Her gun was trained on the source before her eyes focused on it. They laughed.
Oh no.
Oh no.
No.
“Dean?” her voice shook almost as hard as her hands, body tensing as she heard his rumbling laughter.
“You’re gonna drop th’ gun if y’don’t stop shakin,’” he chuckled. She was by his side in a second, gun haphazardly dropped somewhere along the way. The room was dark, but her eyes quickly adjusted when she saw the deep stain in his chest. Her hands hovered uncertainly, for the second time today, as she tried to slow her thoughts and breathing and just take a second to pull herself together.
“Gun, gauze, get outta there,” she whispered; her mantra after years of training coming forward compulsively after her father had drilled it there. “Gun gauze, get outta there. Gun, gauze, get outta there. Gun, gauze-”
“Hey.” Dean’s hands came up to hers where one had reached out for her gun while the other reached in one of her jacket pockets for one of the bandages Y/N had used to save her brothers’ lives more than she cared to count (they still made fun of her, saying she was overprotective; she still kept them in her pocket). “Y/N, s’alright. M’fine. Really.”
“Bitch, you’ve been stabbed.” She looked at him in exasperation, peeling away the layer of his outer jacket. “Let me get you out of here.”
“You know I’m not going anywhere.”
Y/N froze. Her body began to shake; not like before, vibrating like she was feeling the aftershocks of an earthquake. She was trembling like the moments before the ground would open up and swallow her whole. It was the shakey tremor of an untrained hand like the first time she stitched herself up- the minute quivers that seized up her body, her mind, her everything she relied on and she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but look at her brother and will herself to speak.
“Don’t you say that,” she finally whispered. “Not you. You don’t get to leave me.”
“Y/N,” he tried softly.
“No,” she tried again, harder. “You can’t. I- I can’t- Dean, not you too. I can’t lose you, too.”
Dean stilled his movements.
“Too?”
Her eyes moved to his hairline, counting every strand like they weren’t starting to blur together. She moved her hands towards the gauze, moving her hand to sit Dean up when he grabbed it.
“Y/N.” His voice was low, wary; Y/N hated it, hated that nothing good ever came when he used it. “Tell me-” It broke off before he could finish. He cleared his throat. “Tell me. Is- is Sammy…?”
Y/N didn’t even realize she was crying until her lips tasted salty. Dean’s face matched hers.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I wasn’t there and- and by the time I got there… Dean, he was- he already-” Y/N hurriedly moved her hand to wipe away at her face. “I’m sorry. I tried. I couldn’t do... I couldn’t do anything.”
Dean didn’t say anything. He just looked at her. She couldn’t handle it.
“You gotta sit up, Dean,” she said. Her voice wobbled as she spoke, but it was better than breaking and whispering and all those things. “I gotta bandage you, Dean. Then we can….”
In all honestly, she wasn’t really sure what they could do. Her brother was dead, and by the looks of it her other sibling would join him soon. Y/N pushed the thought out of her mind.
“Y/N-” Dean started, coughing into his shoulder.
She couldn’t tell if the blood had already been there before.
“Take it easy.” Her hands hovered over his body, unsure of what to do. He was only shot; she’d dealt with worse.
But she’d had both of her brothers then.
Y/N rocked back onto her knees, taking in a shuddering breath. She tried swallowing down the lump in her throat, but eventually she had to open up her eyes and look at Dean and realize that he wasn’t looking back.
Dean wasn’t looking back.
“Dean-” her hands shook his shoulders. “Dean, stay awake. I’m here. Stay- stay with me.”
Dean mmed at her, eyes fluttering at random intervals as his gaze slowly hooded over. A twitch passed his lips, barely enough for Y/N to catch- but still enough.
“What is it?” she pressed. Another time she would smack him around a bit, get him to move, but he looked as though anything resembling an attack would-
No. Y/N wasn’t going to go there.
“Y’re always so w’rried,” Dean mumbled, eyes sliding shut. “I nev’r knew why you’d bring s’much extra. Guess there wasn’t ‘nuff this time, huh?”
“Don’t joke about that,” Y/N whispered sharply.
“S’rry,” he slurred. “Jus’ tryna lighten th’mood.”
“We’ll joke once you’re outta here, okay?” Y/N smiled at him, knowing but refusing to acknowledge that he couldn’t see it. “Then you can make fun of me all you want. Promise I won’t retaliate.”
“Then what’s th’ point?” He tried to let out a laugh, but it sounded more like a choke that sent icy sparks up Y/N’s spine.
“Currently,” she tried for humour,” to get you out of here. Can you get up? Just need to carry you-”
“Both know m’not goin’ anywhere,” he muttered. Y/N froze.
“Dean-”
“Can you do something for me?” Dean cut her off. She pursed her lips.
“Anything,” she ventured, “but leave you here.”
“Then…” he trailed off, scaring up her heartbeat for a moment until he continued. “stay with me. Until-”
“Yeah.” She smiled, plastic and fake and everything that was wrong in this moment wrapped up in one brief moment. “Anything you need.”
“R’member th’ song….” His brow flickered into a frown for a moment. “Was ‘bout cats. You liked it.”
“The cat song?” Somehow, in the midst of all the shit going down, she managed to sound incredulous.
“Big cat or somth’n,” he grinned. “Lions?”
“Son of a-” she laughed, wet and false but somehow comforting. “You mean that Skillet song?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled- or, tried to- at her voice. “Always liked it.”
“I’m pretty sure I distinctly remember you yelling at me to shut the hell up, as you oh-so poetically put it,” she grinned.
“You should sing it t’me,” he smiled softly. Y/N blinked.
“I-”
“I’m dyin’ here,” he huffed. She winced. “Least you could do ‘s sing f’r me.”
Y/N pursed her lips, flattening them quickly as she remembered Dean was still there (not for long, a nagging voice in the back of her head told her) and worrying her bottom lip.
Well, it was the least she could do.
It was all she could do.
Her voice shook as she sang; wobbled with uncertainty and quietly as she tried to keep her voice low enough to still hear Dean’s shallow breaths. It took a few verse before she began to let her voice carry. It was soft and deep and a little creaky after a few months- or rather, years- of disuse, but fine all the same.
It reminded them both of another time; Dean had, again, been seriously hurt. Sam and Y/N tried to persuade him to go to the hospital (“Y/N is good, but she can’t do anything about internal bleeding, Dean,” Sam had half-shouted at him.) but he only said he needed to rest. Obviously, it was bull. Dean was hurt. Dean was bloody. Dean was almost fucking crying.
But Dean still wanted to hear her sing.
Y/N only ever sang when she was safe. Singing was Y/N’s way of soothing herself; focusing on the melody, the words, the beat and the tune. Sam and Dean, on the very rare occasion they could catch her off-guard, would stand motionlessly and simply listen. Y/N wasn’t phenomenal, they all knew that, but her singing was just one way that they could all remember they were okay. Maybe that was why Dean asked her to do it when he was scared (not that he would admit that, of course); because he needed to know that she was safe, they were safe, everything would be okay.
Slowly, she felt as Dean’s chest began to rise a bit less every time; she watched as his eyelids opened less frequently, his grip slacken a bit more every few seconds. Her face was a mixture of tears and snot and blood coating her grimy cheeks, but it didn’t even occur to her for a damn second to focus on anything other than Dean.
Her vision was blurred, so she wasn’t quite sure which rise and fall of Dean’s chest was his last. She wasn’t certain when his hand no longer gripped onto hers, only held to her chest because she gripped it so hard Dean would’ve complained that she’d break his fingers. She didn’t care about that. She didn’t care about anything.
Sam was dead. Dean was dead.
Y/N was dead.
The sun filtered in through the window she hadn’t noticed earlier by the time she could regain the basics of her surroundings. Her hand was numb from where her fingers had clutched at her brother’s arm, like letting go of Dean would mean letting go of Dean. She couldn’t do it. She could never. But Y/N had to.
It was day. The hunt was over. Sam probably still had matches in his pocket- Y/N’s next breath caught when she thought of him- and Dean definitely still had a lighter of some sort on him. The Winchesters were not supposed to still be here, not like this. They were supposed to be two towns over from the place that “mysterious fire” had cropped up from; new names using old alibis, fresh scars and worn out flannels the smelled of leather seats and cheap beer and diner fast-food and home. Y/N refused to linger on the word. It held nothing. It meant nothing.
She wasn’t quite sure what home was anymore.
The house was up in flames in less than an hour. It had to be burned down anyways, and Y/N couldn’t bring herself to move her brothers out of the cabin, anyways. All she could do was carry them into the front room, laying beside each other. Y/N had carried her brothers more than once after a hunt, and she was by no means weak, but somehow their bodies seemed to weigh more after the light left their eyes. She tried not to think about that. Her mind tried to take itself somewhere light, recollecting memories as she carried Sam down the stairs, sitting for a minute before climbing up to get Dean.
Even in death, they’d be together.
It was probably sometime around midday when Y/N watched the last few flames die down. The house wasn’t a fire hazard, as Sam would have made sure, so she felt safe enough knowing that anybody who came by would just see a recently burned house with nothing but ashes inside. The bodies would be cremated; Dean found some spell that ensured it, so it was quickly memorized and often utilized. Her way back to the impala was short and did not register in her mind, but she paid no notice. Nothing caught her attention.
Like clockwork, Y/N fell onto the back seat. She sat expectantly for half a moment before realizing that her brothers weren’t going to sit in the front seat. Sam wouldn’t ask how she was holding up while Dean teased him for asking her while he looked like that, before giving her that look that asked the same damn thing. She couldn’t tell them that she was fine, that she desperately needed whatever fast food she was craving to survive, that at least she wasn’t on her period (often followed by groans and a fake ‘blech!’ sound from Dean that cracked them all up). Y/N could never say those things to them.
She slid into the front seat. Part of her expected to hear Dean’s gruff voice ask her what the hell d’you think you’re doing, but none came. There were no sounds other than her shallow breaths and the occasional car from the road they had driven off of. Shakily, her hands pulled the clinking keys out of her pocket and started the ignition. The engine rumbled, soft and familiar and coaxing her to tears that refused to spill.
There was so much grief, so much anger, so much whatever the fuck this is that Y/N felt that it overwhelmed her and nulled every emotion that brought itself up in her. She wanted to cry; she wanted to cry and scream and pull out her hair and beat her hands against the steering wheel until they bled and scream out to whoever would listen and ask why them, why them when they only helped people and didn’t deserve this in a thousand years. Nothing came out.
Y/N shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the dirt side road Dean had parked on only 12 hours before.
“I’m back!” you shouted after the metal door shut closed behind you.
“About time,” you heard Sam’s voice coming from the library. “You said you'd be back yesterday.”
“There were some unexpected complications. And I texted you I would run late.” you explained while rolling your eyes. Your brother could be too overprotective at times.
There was no further answer, so you made your way into the library were Sam stood with his arms crossed.
You sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry I was late, but I can take care of myself and you know it. This is not the first hunt I took on on my own.”
“We still worried. I was worried,” he replied, relaxing his posture a bit. “You’re our little sister and we don’t want to lose you. Not after what happened with mom and Jack.”
“I know. But you can’t keep me here. Hunting is in my blood like it’s in yours.”
Sam sighed and nodded. “Damn Winchester genes.”
You chuckled. “Since you were so worried, how about a hug for your little sister?” you asked, taking a few steps in his direction.
“Nope. Shower first, then a hug. I can see and smell the blood on you, Y/N.”
“Sam come on. I really want a hug now.”
“No,” he declared, backing off as you came nearer.
Synopsis: Your heart’s beating too fast, and Michael is looking at you through your brother’s eyes as if he can see right through to your soul.
NOTE: this is really bad
MASTERLIST (PART TWO)
.
“So you’re the little sister,” Michael says, his voice smooth. He stares at you with Dean’s eyes, and he speaks to you with Dean’s voice, and when he reaches out and strokes your cheek, it’s Dean’s hand. But that’s not Dean in front of you. “Interesting.”
You keep your chin up, even though your heart is beating too fast and your head is screaming at you to run, you fool, run!
“Get out of my brother,” You says, and your voice doesn’t waver.
Michael chuckles lowly, his hand suddenly gripping your chin tightly. “Don’t pretend you have any power here, girl. I am the one in control, not Dean. Your brother’s gone, sweetheart. There’s only me now.”
You spit in his face. “Go to hell.”
Michael backhands you, and you startle because he doesn’t seem the type to get so irrationally aggressive. You’ve always thought Michael to be calculating, never acting without thinking. But this time, when you meet his furious eyes, you can see just how thin his control is.
“You will do well,” he murmurs, gripping your chin again. “To watch your tongue. I do not take your childish words kindly.”
You smirk, ignoring the fact that Michael’s grip hurts. “I thought you were above us mortals,” you taunt, and there’s fire on Michael’s face now, on Dean’s face. “I didn’t realise a girl could fluster you so much.”
Michael steps back, dropping his hand. You fight the urge to rub your chin, sure that there’ll be bruising there tomorrow. “Do you know that your brother is screaming right now?” He says cruelly and your bravado falters. “He’s begging me to leave you alone, to not touch his baby sister who he loves so dearly. And you know what that makes me want to do?” He grins at you wolfishly, and there’s nothin Dean about it. “It makes me want to break you apart and force him to watch.”
You think that Michael sees the shudder that rips through your body. But still, you keep your spine straight and your aching chin raised because you are a Winchester and you do not back down. “You won’t hurt me.”
Michael looks amused, but you know there’s frustration hidden underneath the mask. “Oh?”
“You like this game far too much to just end it.” Your smirk turns feral, matches Michael’s own cruel grin. “You like toying with us, showing us again and again that you control this situation. We catch you because you want to be caught. You keep Dean there, even if you weaken him, because you like seeing him break. You won’t tear me apart Michael because where would Dean be then?”
And for once, Michael looks unnerved. “There’s still darling brother Sammy,” he says, but he’s unsteady now. You’re playing his game far too well.
You tut disapprovingly. “Losing your nerve so soon, Mikey? I would’ve thought you were better than that?”
And suddenly his hand is around your throat and your feet aren’t on the ground. “I am a god, you worm,” Michael seethes, and that tether he had has gone now. This is pure, unchecked rage and you couldn’t be more satisfied. Because this is exactly what you wanted.
“No,” you wheezed smugly. “You’re an angel with daddy issues and a few magic tricks. You’re a copycat Lucifer who can’t even properly secure a vessel. You’re not special Michael, you’re nothing but a child whose daddy won’t love him.”
“Wench!” Michael roars, and he throws you. You hit the wall hard, the breath forced out of your body, but you’re grinning again because Michael is unhinged now, Michael isn’t controlled and careful and cunning. He’s angry, and anger causes mistakes.
“I am everything my brothers weren’t!” Michael hisses, advancing toward you. His eyes are glowing. There’s no trace of Dean on his face. “I am loyal, and smart, and strong. I can conquer worlds, and my father abandoned me anyway!”
“I am a human woman,” you say and you laugh as Michael kicks you. “And I have more power than you.”
Michael shouts and his wings flare, forcing you to look away from the light. “You are nothing!”
“So why are you losing control so quickly?”
A blade falls from Michael’s sleeve, and you laugh and laugh and laugh. You’re terrified beyond belief, and you’re heart is racing too fast still, and you can’t quite breathe properly but you laugh because if he stabs you, you win. “Are you gonna kill me, oh mighty one?” You jeer, and scramble to your feet. “Are you gonna be the big bad wolf and smite me?”
With a snarl, Michael lunges.
And as the knife spears into your chest, Dean’s eyes flicker and there’s nothing but horror as your brother drops you to the ground with a knife in your skin. “Y/N,” he whispers, staring down at you as you gurgle his name.
Fuck, you never thought dying could hurt this much.
“Fuck Y/N,” Dean says, and drops to his knees beside you. He doesn’t touch the knife, doesn’t look away from your face and you screw your eyes shut in pain. “What did you do?” He demands, and his anger isn’t anger, it’s just fear and pain. “Baby girl, you shouldn’t have faced Michael.”
“I got you back though, didn’t I?” You cough, and nearly choke on the blood that erupts out of your mouth. “You gotta find Sam, De. Call him, he doesn’t know I’m here. I left my phone at the bunker. You gotta get rid of Michael.”
“Y/N-“
“Get him angry. He’s easier to beat when he’s angry because he has less control. Riled him up De, you’re good at that.”
Dean shakes his head and gathers you up, jostling the knife. You whimper. “I’ll kill him,” he vows in a broken whisper.
You want to tell him that he can’t kill himself though, if he wants to kill Michael. Not after you’ve done this for him. Sammy, Cas and Jack need him. The Winchester boys.
Your Winchester boys.
So you use the last of your strength to murmur a message for Michael.
“You lose, you son of a bitch.”
And then Dean cries out, and you drop off the edge and embrace Death as you would embrace your brothers.
Your Reaper allows to stay long enough to watch as Michael tries to recapture Dean’s mind, only for Sam to burst in with Cas his tail and enchanted cuffs in his hands. When Dean glances at your unmoving body, the pure loathing there is Michael.
But then Sam starts crying, and you let your reaper lead you away because you’re done here.
Pairing : Winchesters x sister!reader.
Words : 987
It was after 3am. You were tiptoeing through the main room as quietly as possible. You knew your brothers would be pissed. Not only did you sneak off on a hunt alone, but you stole Dean’s car to do it. You were hoping they were still asleep and hadn’t noticed. So far, So good.
You passed through the kitchen to grab a water, and the lights went on. You jumped when you saw Sam sitting at the table, and Dean blocking the door way behind you.
“Where the hell were you?” Dean was livid. When you didn’t answer fast enough he grabbed the bag off your arm and opened it. He threw it on the table for Sam. “Guns, Salt…”
“Hunting? Alone? Are you crazy!?” Sam looked more worried then mad.
“It was just a salt and burn..” You shrugged. “In and out. I’ve only been gone 3 hours.”
“Where the hell is my car?” Dean growled.
“Outside… where you left it?”
“It wasn’t when I woke up.”
“Okay, outside where I left it, in the exact same spot that you left it.” You looked to Sam. “We done here?”
“No! Sit!” Dean growled. Obviously not going to let this go. You rolled your eyes and sat across from Sam. “You know you’re not allowed to drive my car.”
“I’m not allowed to drive any car apparently. I can’t use yours, I can’t use one in the garage, I can’t get my own.”
“Because you pull shit like this!” You sighed at Dean, and turned to Sam. He was giving Dean the ‘calm down’ look. Dean threw his hands up. “I can’t fucking believe this.”
“You can’t hunt on your own, y/n.” Sam stayed calm, but you could tell he hadn’t been when he woke up to you gone, and Dean flipping out.
“I’m 18 Sam, and you’re not my father.”
“No, we’re your brothers.” Dean growled. “And we said No.”
“Half brothers.” You mumbled.
“What’s that?” Dean was getting riled up again.
“HALF BROTHERS!” You yelled at him. “Your dad knocked up my mom. I won the family fucking lottery with that one didn’t I? Get over yourself.”
“Get over MYSELF?!”
“Dean..”
“No Sammy, I want to hear this.”
“Yes, get over yourself. Big bad fucking Dean Winchester. Everyone better listen to him, because he’s JOHN’S BOY. You are not John’s only fucking kids, alright guys?” You shoved Dean away and left the room.
Sam sighed and licked his lips.
“Son of a bitch!” Dean growled. “Y/n!” he called out as he followed you.
You went up the halls ignoring him. You turned into your room, and he was not far behind when you slammed the door in his face. “Y/N, please. Open the door.”
“Fuck off, Dean!” Dean wanted to just punch the door.
“She definitely has the Winchester temper.” Sam was behind Dean, leaning on the wall.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Deans voice was almost sad. He was waiting for the sound of you smashing things. But it was quiet.
When you finally opened the door you were surprised Dean was still there. His jaw was clenched as he watched you wipe a tear off your cheek. Then he noticed the backpack over your shoulder.
“Just leave me alone.” You pushed past him. Sam moved in front of you. You glared up at him. “Move.”
“No.” Dean barked behind you. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Anywhere but here.” You were in an epic stare down with Sam. Your eyes furious, his almost sad.
“Its almost 4am, you’re not going out there.” Sam folded his arms over his chest.
“It’s no more dangerous then it was an hour ago.” You tried to move past him but he blocked you. “Sam, I’m not kidding. Move.”
“Or what?” His voice was level.
You glared at him. You were so mad you started shaking. It was like a shiver that just wouldn’t go away. You could feel it in your arms and legs. You wanted to hit something, anything.
“You need to stop running off on your own in the middle of the night..” Sam’s voice was low again, almost sad so you cut him off.
“I was doing fine on my own when you found me, Sam. I can take care of myself, I’m not a child.”
“But you’re hunting now. It’s not just creeps you need to be worried about. Everything supernatural knows about you now, and hunting alone can get you killed.” Deans voice was still hard and angry.
“So what!?” You screamed at Dean, now facing him. “Like anyone would give a shit.”
Both boys stood in shock. How could you think that?
You took advantage of it and ducked by Sam before he could react. He saw the tears in your eyes as you turned a corner and started running. He didn’t believe you would leave. He figured you would find a quiet room somewhere and get it out. But when they heard the front door slam, Dean started to panic.
“We can’t lose her, Sammy… I can’t lose someone else.” He took off running. Sam wasn’t far behind when they ran out the door. Baby was still there so at least you hadn’t stolen it again. Shit what if you left with his keys. He had forgotten to take them back from you. He ran up the road, trying to find you, looking everywhere. You couldn’t have gotten far. You just couldn’t be gone.
“Dean… ” He turned to Sam. Then he heard it. Sobbing. Sam pointed up.
You were sitting over the door, knees pulled to your chest, your face in your arms crying. Dean sighed with relief. He looked around and figured out how you had climbed up. Next thing you knew, he was next to you, wrapping his arms around you.
“We’d give a shit.” His voice was a whisper against your hair. “You’re our baby sister. Of course we would give a shit.”
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Tagging : Dean - @evyiione @soythedemonqueen @deanandsamsbitch @akshi8278
Pairing : Winchesters x Sister!reader (Wincest), John
Word count : 4,897
Warnings : WINCEST!, Incest, Smut, cheating.
Final part of The Winchester Curse.
That’s how things went for over a year. Whichever brother got alone time with you, took advantage of it, never both of them together, which you didn’t mind since you knew Sam could get jealous.
And they would sneak as much time together as they could for themselves. They would buy you something if you managed to occupy John for a bit to give them some time. A few times, they would go ahead to check into the motel while you and John went to eat. Dean would buy you anything your heart desired if they managed to get a few hours out of it. Mostly you just got new clothes out of the deal. You didn’t really want for much, and you loved dragging him around from store to store, and the look on his face as you tried on clothes for him.
At one store, he couldn’t take it. “Let me help you with that.” His eyes were dark with lust as he went into the changing room with you. He fingered you hard while you jerked him off, his free hand covering your mouth so you’d be quiet. It only worked so well. Let’s just say, you were banned from that particular store. Both of you laughing as you hit the sidewalk after being escorted out.
Oh you got kicked out of places with Sam too. A library, actually. After he fucked you against a shelf in a corner. You had worn a short skirt Dean had bought you the week before, and were looking something up for him on a hunt he was helping some hunter with two towns over. Sam had walked up behind you, pushed up your skirt, moved your panties aside and slid right in once he had a condom on. “Don’t you dare stop reading that.” He told you as he started thrusting. You tried to focus on the words, biting your lip hard trying to keep quiet. You both would have gone unnoticed, until some perv spotted you, and jerked off while he watched. Only he wasn’t careful and got caught. Sam gave him a black eye for getting caught once everyone was outside.
A few times they heard you with someone else in your room, but again, never saw who it was. Though they did play a game of “Guess the Fuck” whenever they hit the bar. Pointing out likely suspects. You would just shake your head every time and laugh.
It never once hit you that you might be someone’s dirty little secret. Let alone both of theirs. You didn’t figure it out until one day you walked into their motel room.
“Feeling any better sweetheart?” Dean asked as you shut the door behind you. You had been sick on and off for about two weeks now. John was sure you had the flu and told the boys to follow with you when you got better.
“We uh… We need to talk.”
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked and closed his laptop.
You stepped up to the table they both sat at, and put something down between them. They both glanced down. “Shit..” Dean picked up the pregnancy test. “Dad’s gonna flip..”
“Yeah.” You said softly.
“Will you finally tell us who you’ve been fucking?” Dean looked up. “Oh god, is he even in this town, or do I need to hunt him down?”
You looked at him confused. “You don’t need to hunt anyone down, Dean..”
“Do you know who it is?”
“I have an idea..”
“Jesus christ.” Dean grumbled. “That’ll be a fun fucking call, won’t it. Hey dad, your little angel is pregnant, and she thinks she might know who’s it is.”
“Don’t be an asshole, Dean.” Sam shot at him.
“Considering it might be yours.” You glared at him..
“What?!” Sam and Dean both looked surprised. Dean looking at you, but Sam at him. “You’re still fucking her!?”
“It can’t be mine…” He mumbled.
“Are you kidding me right now Dean!?” Sam stood up from his chair. “We agreed!”
“It could also be yours.” You looked up at Sam.
“Son of a bitch!” Dean scoffed, looking up at Sam. “So ready to fucking jump down my throat. Anything else you’re keeping from me?”
“Are y- Are you two serious right now?!” You glanced between them. “Neither of you knew!?” You moved back until your legs hit the bed and you dropped down to sit on it.
“How could you do that to me, Dean, you knew how I felt.”
“Me!? What about you!”
You stared at the floor, breath getting heavy while their yelling faded into background noise. “How could you both do that to me…” Tears started to well up in your eyes, you didn’t even know if they heard you. “I can’t believe you would both do that to me, put me in the middle like that for over a year.”
“A year!? You cheated on me for a fucking year!?” Dean growled.
“Like you’re fucking innocent here Dean.” Sam spat back. “One and done. Those were the fucking rules. She got two, each of us once and we agreed that was fucking it!”
“Obviously you didn’t give a shit about the rules when you kept fucking her! Or do they only apply to me so you don’t get fucking jealous? Because that right there, is bullshit Sam, and you know it.”
You shook your head, and got up and walked out without another word. You went to your room, locked the door and curled up in your bed. You glanced over at the second bed that had been John’s when he had been in town. You wished he was there. He’d be pissed about you being pregnant, but he’d comfort you while you cried.
“Winchester curse.” You mumbled before a hand went to your stomach. “I’m sorry.”
You fell asleep crying to the sound of Sam and Dean fighting still. You could make out a good chunk of what they said. They were both swearing they used condoms, and arguing which one of them obviously fucked up. You jolted awake to the door slamming, and the Impala tearing out of the parking lot. You pulled the pillow closer and went back to sleep.
A few hours later, you woke up to banging against the wall. It took you a minute to realize they were fucking, and it sounded almost brutal. In the silence of the room, and them being against the wall between the two rooms, you could make out bits and pieces. “Remember, you’re fucking mine. Only mine.” Sam was reminding Dean. “You try and bring another fucking bar whore here, Dean. I’ll make you fucking regret it, do you hear me?”
“Yes! Fuck!” You heard Dean cry out. You sighed, and rolled over. At least they were working it out. Or so you thought.
They were fighting again the next morning. You didn’t know what about specifically now, and stayed in your room, keeping out of it. You waited for it to stop, but it never did. Not until Dean stormed out again. A few minutes after the Impala was gone, you heard Sam punch the wall and scream out a curse. Pulling on your shoes, you grabbed a sweater and left your room. Your stomach had been growling for at least an hour, and it was getting close to lunchtime. Normally, one of them would bring you food, but you weren’t about to wait for them. Not today.
Walking past the bar, you glanced in the window, and saw Dean. Your heart broke at the sight of him sitting there downing glass after glass of whiskey. You tore your eyes away and kept walking.
It was almost 2pm when there was a knock at your door. You got up and opened it to see Dean. “You need to eat.” He said softly, holding out a bag. He looked so broken. “Sorry I didn’t come sooner…”
“I ate, Dean.” You told him gently. “I went to the diner earlier today. Brought back my leftovers. I figured you two would be too occupied to worry about me.”
“You went out?”
You nodded. “I saw you drinking in the bar.” You took the bag from him and stepped in. “But thank you, it smells really good.” You turned and gave him a soft smile. “Are you two going to be okay?”
“I don’t know.” He admitted softly, stepping inside just enough to lean on the wall. “I really don’t know. We fucked up pretty bad this time. And it doesn’t just affect us.” His green eyes met yours. “I was so fucking careful with you.. I-”
“You both were, Dean. Neither of you ever forgot a condom.. Sometimes it just happens. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “I should apologize to you, you’re right, we had no right to put you in the middle like that. Especially not for so long. I just-” He swallowed. “I couldn’t get enough. It was like the first time I was with Sammy, I just needed more. No matter how wrong it was. It felt so good, so right. I’m so sorry. And I don’t think he can forgive me for this. I don’t know if I can forgive him. It’s just so fucked.”
“Give it time, Dean. And try not to yell at each other so much.”
He nodded. “I’ll see ya later, sweetheart. Thanks.” He turned and walked out, only to be met by Sam.
“Is that where you’ve been all day? I won’t let you touch me so you run back to her?”
“Give it a rest, Sam. I brought her fucking food, she’s pregnant and needs to eat.”
“If she was hungry, she could have came to me, I would have taken her to get something.” He shot back.
“Well she fucking didn’t okay, apparently she left the fucking motel and you didn’t even notice! You’re suppose to be watching her. Keeping her safe. Fuck Dad’s going to be pissed as it is.. If something else would have happened-”
“You’re the one who keeps fucking taking off to drink and fuck. Do you think I can’t smell it on you?! Give me a fucking break, Dean. You’re the fucking protector, you’re the one who -”
“Enough!” You yelled at them. “Fuck off, both of you! I don’t need this shit right now.” And with that you slammed the door.
“Way to go, Sammy.” You heard Dean scoff.
“Me!?”
“Yeah you.” You knew Dean was walking away from your door as his voice faded. “We were fucking talking shit out before…”
You dropped into a chair at your table and glanced at your phone. Part of you wanted to call John and beg him to come get you. Or maybe Bobby. You knew he’d take you in in a heartbeat and you could get away from this. Instead, you started looking up clinics in the area as you pulled out the food Dean brought you and started to pick at it.
Two days of bickering. Two days of you on your own because you didn’t feel like listening to them, or having to chose between them so you shut them both out. You had an appointment at the clinic today. You had made up your mind, you knew what you would do and you wanted your brothers there to help you through this. You went to knock on their door, but were met with more arguing. Sighing, you decided not to bother them and headed back to your room. “Guess it’s just you and me..” You mumbled to yourself.
“Hi, I uh- I have an appointment..”
The girl behind the desk looked up and smiled a genuinely sweet smile. “Your name? And how far along are you”
“Y/N, Y/L/N. And I think I’m about 7-8 weeks?”
She typed it into her computer, and a moment later looked up again with a smile. “Have a seat.” She motioned to the nearby chairs. “The doctor will see you shortly, you’re next.”
“Thanks..” You took a deep breath and headed for the chairs. Feeling eyes on you, you glanced up and she was watching you, taking you in for a moment with an expression on her face you couldn’t place.
She looked back at her computer for a moment, looking at who your appointment was with and looked back up at you. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah?” You looked worried.
“Do you not have someone to stay with you during this?” You shook your head. “Would you like me to call someone for you?”
You looked down. “There’s no one to call.”
She was quiet for a moment, making you look up. There was sadness in her eyes. “Uh.. I’m going on my lunch break in a bit. I-If you want, I can sit with you?” You furrowed your brow a bit at that. “I mean, I don’t want to overstep or anything, but you look terrified. And I know why you’re here just by the name of the doctors on your appointment.” She gave you a small smile. “No one should be alone during this. I’ll grab you a bottle of water from the back, and I’ll sit with you if you want. Just to have someone hold your hand.”
You gave her a small nod. “I’d like that, thank you.”
She smiled. “I go on break in about 10 minutes. If you get called in first, just let her know I’ll be joining you. My name’s Willow.” Your eyebrows went up at that, and she chuckled. “My mom liked to think of herself as a bit of a hippie.”
“It’s a nice name.”
You spoke with the doctor, and Willow was with you the whole time. She didn’t say much, she just sat with you. Anytime you felt scared, or overwhelmed, she’d take your hand in hers, and give it a light squeeze and a smile.
Then came the ultrasound. You were nervous, but Willow was still there with a smile. “Thank you, for sitting with me.” You told her as the tech squirted the cool jelly onto your stomach.
She shrugged. “It’s nothing, really. I know how scary it can be. I uh- I went through it myself once.” She gave you a smile. “I didn’t have anyone with me either. And the emotions hit hard after, sometimes they never really go away. But someone there to share in that moment, those emotions, it makes a difference. You don’t feel so alone. I try to do that for someone as much as I can.”
“Ready?” The tech asked, wand in hand.
You took a deep breath and nodded. As soon as you saw it on the screen, you froze. “Is that…”
She took a couple measurements. “You’re about 10 weeks, not 8.” She hit a button, and the heart beat had you tearing up.
You closed your eyes, trying not to cry. “You’re changing your mind, aren’t you?” Willow asked softly, her hand took yours. “I know that look. You can’t do it. It’s okay. If you need more time, we’ll sit and talk, whatever you decide, it’ll be okay.”
Dean banged on your door. “Come on sweetheart, you can’t give me the silent treatment forever.. You need to eat.” He banged again.
“Jesus, Dean. The whole motel can hear you.” Sam shoved Dean out of the way and glanced around before picking the lock.
Dean rolled his eyes, and pushed past Sam as soon as the door was open. “Princess?” He put the bag down on the table. The room was empty, so he went to check the bathroom. “Did she go out on her own again? I told her to stop fucking doing that..” He came back into the main room.
“Dean…..” Sam picked up a paper and key that had been under the bag Dean had put down. Dean grabbed the note out of Sam’s hand.
Dear Sam and Dean,
I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I can't be the wedge between you. I have a clinic appointment today, m y mind is set on what I'll do, but when I went to get you, hoping you would both be there for me, you were too busy arguing.
I left the motel room key, please check me out. I'm hoping by the time you realize you haven't seen me today and pick the lock, I'll be long gone. Just tell dad I took off with some guy or something. I'll reach out to him when I'm ready to.
I promise.
Just let me disappear, Dean. I know how hard that will be for you, but please. I plan on making it hard for you to follow me, so just let me go.
Just let me disappear.
I love you both.
Y/N
“SHIT!” Dean yelled. “SHIT!” He pulled out his phone. “Dad.. It’s Dean. She’s gone. No, I don’t know when, or where.. She’s just fucking gone!” Sam picked up the note, and his heart broke reading it, then he looked up at the panic in Dean’s face. “I’ll find her, Dad. If it’s the last fucking thing I do, I’ll find her.”
When Dean hung up the phone, Sam tossed him the key. “You check her out. I’ll look up every clinic in the area. We’ll split up and find her. She can’t of gone far.”
“Sam, we don’t even know when her appointment was. It’s almost dinner time.”
“Then stop wasting time.” Sam shoved Dean out the door before doing a check of the room, and grabbing the bag of food and heading to their room to grab his laptop.
Dean sighed as he walked into the last clinic he had to check. They had been at it for a while. “Hi, can I help you?” The lady at the desk smiled up at him.
“Yeah, uh, I’m hoping you can. I’m looking for my sister.” he pulled out his phone, and showed her a picture. “She had an appointment at a clinic, I was suppose to take her but she never showed up, and she hasn’t come back home. I’m really worried about her. I’ve been checking every clinic. This is my last stop.”
She looked up from the phone, and looked at Dean. “Your sister?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah. She was pretty scared. Our dad doesn’t know she’s pregnant, and she’s terrified to tell him. She probably would have been scared if she did this alone. I don’t even know if she made it to her appointment. Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. Please, can you just check?”
“I don’t need to…” She told him softly. “She was here.”
Relief flashed over his face. “When!? She hasn’t come back, we have no idea where she is, my brother and I are tearing the town apart. Please, anything you can tell me..”
“I’m sorry.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Policy and all. I can’t tell you much. She did make her appointment. I sat with her. It was around 11:45, and I had my lunch break at that time. She was scared, so I went in with her. She told me she had no one to call.”
“Fuck..” He groaned and looked at his watch. “Can you tell me how long she was here?”
“She left just before 1.”
“Five hours.. She’s been missing for over five fucking hours.” He groaned. “She could be anywhere…”
“I’m sorry I can’t help you more. She was pretty upset when she left. Maybe she just needed some space…”
He nodded, but knew that wasn’t true. “You did a lot. For me and her. Thank you.” She gave him a small smile. He pulled out a card. “If she happens to come back, I know it’s a long shot but.. Please, call me?”
“Of course.” She glanced down at the card as he started for the door. “Wait, you’re FBI?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.”
She licked her lips. “One sec.” She hurried into a back room and a few minutes later, came out with a two papers. “I shouldn’t do this, I could lose my job. But she was really sweet, and I’d hate for something bad to happen to her.” She slid him the papers. “It’s not much, just a quick assessment of the pregnancy, how far along she is, in case you need that for a missing persons. And the picture.”
“Thank you-”
“Willow.” she smiled.
“Thank you so much, Willow. Seriously, I owe you one.” She gave him a smile as he headed out, looking down at the ultrasound picture.
“Please tell me you had better luck than I did.” Sam was hurrying up the path.
“She was here…” He couldn’t take his eyes off the picture. “She was here, Sammy. Five hours ago. Shit. what do we tell Dad?” He asked as he handed Sam the ultrasound picture and the paper.
Sam looked over the notes, then the picture. “Nothing about this. Not yet. Says she was meeting about an abortion…. Doesn’t say if she went through with it..”
“Fuck, Sam.” Dean wanted to cry thinking of his little sister going through that alone.
“Please, Sammy. Please tell me you got something?”
“Dean, it’s been months.” Sam looked up from his laptop, glancing at Dean who was driving down an empty highway in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.
“She can’t have just fucking vanished, Sam. There has to be some fucking sign of her. We’re hunters, for fuck sake!”
“So was she, Dean. I mean sure, she never worked a case, but we trained her.”
“Yeah, too fucking well.” Dean grumbled with a sigh.
“Look, I’ve checked, births, and deaths.. Her phone still hasn’t come back on and there is nothing in her name, or any of the names of the fake id’s she use to have, which means she got herself a new one. Bobby is swearing he knows nothing, though we both know if she asked him not to tell, he wouldn’t. He loved that girl like his own daughter. And he’d do it just to spite Dad.” Sam licked his lips. “I can’t find a fucking trace of her.”
Dean punched his steering wheel. “Fuck!”
“I’ll keep looking, you know I will.” Sam ran his fingers through Dean’s hair. “For now, we’ll do what we always do. Work the case dad gave us, and keep looking.”
Dean nodded. “It’s been too long though, Sammy.”
“I know, Dean. I know.” His hand ran down Dean’s arm before he was back on his laptop.
Suddenly Dean’s phone rang. “Yeah?” He answered without looking, figuring it was John. He slammed on the brakes without warning, causing Sam to lurch forward and have to brace himself. “Where are you, sweetheart?” Sam looked over at him, just as an alert went off on his laptop, letting him know that your phone had been turned back on. “We’re on our way. Don’t fucking move. I’m coming.” He hung up and U turned, heading back the way he had come.
“Where is she?” Sam asked, the tracking results took a few minutes.
Dean didn’t answer, he licked his lips and dialed John. “We found her, Dad… I don’t give a shit about this fucking case, or your fucking lead. We finally found her… The case can eat my ass. I’m going to see my fucking sister in the hospital.” He growled before hanging up on his father. “Tell me how to get to her, before she turns her phone off again, Sammy.”
Sam nodded, and quickly got directions. A few minutes later, he saw your phone was off again.
You woke up to a commotion out in the hall. A moment later, your door burst open and Dean was there, somehow with panic and relief both etched all over his face. “What happened!? Are you-”
“Shhh.” You cut him off.
“Dean..” Sam hit Dean’s chest with the back of his hand, and motioned to the infant sleeping a foot away from your bed on the opposite side.
You watched Dean’s facial expression change completely. “You kept it…” He breathed out, slowly making his way over. “Can I?”
You nodded. “Just don’t wake her. She only fell asleep about an hour ago.”
“Her..” He smiled. “God, she’s beautiful.” He lifted her up gently. “When did you have her?” He looked up at you.
“I called you as soon as the room was clear and we were left alone.” You gave him a smile.
“Only a day old.” Sam moved closer to look down at her with a smile. “She’s so tiny.. What’s her name?”
“She doesn’t have one yet. I couldn’t find anything that felt right, so I figured, maybe once I saw her, maybe knew who her father was, something would click.” You bit your lip.
“Does that mean you know?” Dean was looking down at the infant that might be his, with so much pride and love on his face.
“Yeah.. I know.” Your voice cracked a little.
“She’s definitely a Winchester.” Sam chuckled. “I can’t tell who she looks more like though, me or Dean. How do you know?”
“They took DNA samples.”
“They don’t have ours, do they?” Dean looked up confused, and saw how you were looking down at your hands in your lap. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
You shook your head. “No, they don’t have yours, but they didn’t need it. They knew right away it was someone closely related to me. Asked if I had known. Of course, I lied.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down..” Dean pointed out.
“It does.. Too many of the same markers.”
“Yeah, and we’re siblings..” Dean pointed out, and glanced at Sam. He could see the gears working in Sam’s head.
“Half siblings.” You told him gently.
With that confession, Sam looked up. “You’re not serious!?”
“What?” Dean looked between you two. “What am I missing here.”
“When were you going to tell me, sweetheart.” You turned towards the deep voice, and were met with John.
You shrugged as your eyes started to water. “I don’t know. I was hoping to not have to. You don’t know how many times I walked into a clinic to abort and walked right back out. I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry Dad.”
Sam shook his head in disbelief. “What?!” Dean demanded.
John stepped in and kissed your forehead before looking at Dean. “Let me hold my daughter, Dean.”
“Dad?” John took the infant from his arms, and Dean looked at you. “Dad!? Are you fucking kidding me!?”
“Please, Dean. Don’t wake her up..”
He clenched his fist, and his jaw before walking out. Sam sighed. “I’ll talk to him. Then I think the three of us need to talk.” You nodded.
“How long?” Dean growled out as you breast fed. John stepped out to get you something to eat since hospital food sucked.
“Years.” You answered softly.
“Did he-”
“No!” You looked up at him. “No. I promise you that.” He didn’t need to finish the question. “It just, happened. I can’t even remember how it started. But it was never forced, Dean. They asked the same thing when they came back with those results. I told them I never knew my father, never met him. I didn’t want to lose her.”
Sam watched you from where he sat on the foot of your bed, opposite side of where Dean stood. “Shit… That’s why we’ve never seen who you were with?” Sam asked, and you nodded. “All the detours, you taking up his time so we..”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’d complain about needing to stretch, he’d ask if I was getting hungry. If I answered just right, he knew what I wanted.” You licked your lips.
Sam let out a scoff. “Cherry pie.” He nodded. “It was always cherry pie. I’m so stupid.”
“Why you never rode with us.. Always dad’s truck?” Dean scoffed ignoring Sam. “Here I thought you just liked spending time with him.”
“I did. I do. It nice seeing him finally relax, cracking jokes, and singing along to the radio, even if I put it on a random pop station.” You smiled. “He’d always find something to sing along to and over exaggerate it just to make me smile.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us..” Dean shot you a look.
“Like you didn’t tell me about you two?” He sighed, and sat on the bed near your feet. “Or how you didn’t tell each other about me?”
“He’s your dad..” Dean pointed out.
“And your my brothers, Dean. Winchester curse. We’ve all got it.” You glanced down as she unlatched. “I just pray she doesn’t. I’m sorry. I never wanted all this. I never set out with the goal to fuck my family, and give birth to my father’s child. This is hard on me, Dean. I tried t-” Tears welled up in your eyes again cutting you off.
“Just come home.” Sam pleaded. “Please, just come back to us. Let us help. Let us back in.” You didn’t answer him. You weren’t sure if you could. You just stared down at your daughter.
“Willow.” Dean said softly, making you look at him. His eyes were on your daughter. “Call her Willow.”
You smiled at the memory of the sweet girl behind the desk and nodded. “Willow Winchester.” You looked down at her. “Not half bad.” You sniffled.
*If you like, please consider supporting my work.*
Pairing : Winchesters x Sister!reader (Wincest), John (mentioned)
Word count : 2,923
Author : Mel
Warnings : WINCEST!, Smut, cheating.
Part 2 of The Winchester Curse.
Another day, another town, another motel. Things were weird now between you and the boys, and you all just hoped John hadn’t noticed before he dropped you off with them and left for his case. It didn’t get any better when you found out the only room available was a double, and you’d have to bunk with them. “Fucking great.” You grumbled as you grabbed the keys off the counter and walked out of the office.
“Do you hate us that much?” Dean asked as he slammed the door to the room behind him.
“I just don’t want to be here during it, Dean.” You told him as you tossed your bag against the wall and claimed the bed farthest from the front door, since they would insist on it anyways. “It’s enough hearing it through the walls, I don’t want it right next to me.”
“Then we’ll go somewhere else.” He tried to reason with you. “If you want we’ll check out the other motels, I’ll tell dad there was only a single available here. I-”
“It’s fine Dean.” You pulled out your laptop and plugged in headphones. “I’ll tune you out, and if you want the bed, I’ll go see a movie or something.”
Dean sighed and glanced over at Sam who was sitting on the edge of the other bed. He didn’t know what to do. “I’m going to shower.” He mumbled to himself and walked to the bathroom.
Dean took his time in there, and when he came out in just a towel, you couldn’t help but glance up at him. He hadn’t even bothered to dry off much, water droplets were running down his chest and back. You bit your lip and quickly shifted your eyes away. “Anyone getting hungry?” He asked “I’m starving. We should go grab food soon.” He looked over at you. He was basically just trying to get you to talk to him.
“I need a shower. I smell like dad’s truck.” You mumbled, taking off your headphones and heading for the bathroom and locking the door.
Dean sighed again. “Think she’ll ever talk to me again?”
Sam shrugged. “I’ll go get food. And pie. Maybe it’ll help.” He gave Dean a hopeful smile before pecking his lips and heading out.
“I fucking hope so..” He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.
You stood under the spray, fingers between your folds and rubbing your clit. You had washed your body fast, knowing you only had so much hot water since Dean had taken a while, but you hoped you had enough to last until you were done. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, your hips moving against your hand, and your head back against the tiles. “Come on.” You had no idea how long you had been chasing the release that seemed to never come, but suddenly, the water was ice cold. “SON OF A BITCH!” You yelled jumping out of the tub, and almost falling in the process. “FUCK! DEAN, YOU ASSHOLE!”
When you stepped out of the bathroom, you realized it had only been minutes. Dean was still sitting there in a towel, his hair still wet. “Did you really have to use all the hot water?” You grumbled at him.
He looked up, and just stared for a minute. You stood there, soaking wet, clutching a towel that was just too small around yourself. Your hip poked out on one side as you held it tight to your chest squishing your boobs. “S-Sorry..”
“And you took the only decent sized towel.” You glanced down at it, and realized he was getting hard. Your cheeks flushed, and you bit your lip.
“Come here.” His voice was low, and deep.
“De-”
“I said come here.” As soon as you got close enough, his hands went to your hips and he moved you to stand in front of him. “Let me see you.” When you didn’t move, he jerked the towel away from your body and let it fall to the floor. “Fuck.” He groaned. He palmed at his growing erection, as his eyes took in every bit of you. “Please…?” His eyes met yours, and he didn’t need a verbal answer, he could see it in your eyes. His mouth quickly latched around a nipple.
“Dean..” You breathed out. He moved his towel aside, and pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him.
“You were touching yourself in there, weren’t you.” He mumbled as he kissed his way to the other nipple. You nodded with a soft moan. Both his hands gripped your ass tight and he ground you against him. “So fucking wet. Were you thinking of me?”
“Yes..” You moaned.
“Dirty fucking girl.” He grinned and gave your nipple a nip making you yelp.
“Hey Dean, the diner had pecan pie, so I got pecan for you, and -” Sam froze seeing you squirming in Dean’s lap.
Dean’s face left your breast, but the finger on your clit kept working. “Welcome home, Sammy.” He smiled. “Look who’s finally opening up to us.” He looked at you again and kissed you. There was a flash of jealousy in Sam’s face, there always was when he saw Dean kissing someone else. But both you and Dean missed it.
“Should I..?” He glanced back towards the door.
“No. Stay Sammy.” Dean said breaking the kiss. “If you want. I know for a fact she won’t mind. And she’d like it if you joined. Isn’t that right, sweetheart.”
He gave your clit a flick, making you whimper as you answered with a “Mhmm.” and a nod.
“See.” He smiled and looked up at Sam. “You were right, she did want in.”
“Oh shit, Dean.” Your forehead went to his shoulder.
He chuckled before his attention left Sam and went back to you. “Come on, baby. You going to cum for me?” You nodded and whined. “Good girl. Cum for me, then I’ll fuck you good.”
Sam put the food down, and honestly just wanted to leave. Sharing was one thing, and sure sometimes watching was fun too, but you were their sister. And as hypocritical as it was for that to be an issue, it was. What he and Dean had, had always been special. A bond no one else could share with them. Except you. It was too much, but he had agreed it would be okay. He knew if he said something now, Dean would respect it, but things had been so strained with you and he didn’t want to make it worse. “I forgot something, I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry back Sammy.” Dean grinned, just seconds before you cried out and came. As soon as you came down, he had you in a deep passionate kiss. “How do you want me to fuck you, baby? Anything you want.”
“Just make it good, Dean. Really fucking good.”
“It always is with me.” He smiled his shit eating cocky grin.
“Sammy?” You were in your bed facing Sam, and him in his with his back to you. John had been gone for three days now, and Dean left two days ago after a hunter called for help. Sam hadn’t come back that day until long after you and Dean were done, and you could tell he was upset. You had gone outside, and let him and Dean talk it out. Dean leaving to hit the bar not long after, and Sam barely looking at you. And that’s how it had been since. “Sammy, please..”
Sam could hear the sadness in your voice, but he pretended to be asleep. He stared at the wall, not really seeing or thinking anything. Like every night, you’d just roll over and go to sleep. He heard you roll over, and he heard silence. For a bit.
“I’m sorry.” He heard your voice breaking. “I’m sorry I ruined everything. You guys, us… I’m sorry, Sam. It’s okay that you hate me.”
Sam sighed. “I don’t hate you.”
“You don’t talk to me. You barely look at me…” You were holding the pillow tight against you, clinging to it. “You barely talk to Dean. All you had to do was say something, Sam. This is why I didn’t want it. It changed everything. And I hate myself for it.”
Sam knew you were either crying, or trying not to. He rolled onto his back to look over at you. He watched your side rise and fall, heard your quiet sniffle. Getting up, he got into your bed behind you and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t hate yourself. Please.”
You rolled over in his arms, so you were facing his chest. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so sorry.”
He kissed the top of your head. “Don’t be. I said he could. I could have told him to stop at any time, but I didn’t. And I know you would have respected that too.. I just.. I don’t know.” He buried his face in your hair. “I get jealous sometimes. Its why we have those rules. Why I can veto at any time. It’s never been too big of an issue, Dean and I have a bond no one else has ever come close to having..”
“Because you’re brothers?” You looked up and Sam nodded. “And then there’s me… Not quite the same but.. close.”
“Yeah…” He looked down at you. “Very close. I could see it in his face, he was looking at you different than how he looks at other girls. I couldn’t be here for that.”
“How can I make it up to you Sammy?” He started to protest, but you cut him off before he could get a word out. “I owe you, something, somehow.. Anything, Sam. Please. I know nothing I can do will make up for fucking him. Nothing short of fucking you too, but you already said you didn’t want that. And there’s your rule, only one go. Mine was used on just him.” You cheeks went a bit pink, not that he’d see it in the darkness of the room. “I did hope you’d join, though.” You admitted shyly. “I kind of wanted you more than I wanted Dean. I mean he’s fun and all, but-”
Sam cut you off with a kiss. His large hand cupped your face, the tips of his fingers just going into your hair. Your lips parted slightly, and he dove right in, his tongue tasting every bit it could.
“Sam..” You whispered when the kiss broke. “Your rules..”
His lips pressed to yours for a second. “I’ll talk to Dean. He knows I’m upset, he’ll understand. Me and him will talk it out, and I promise you, things will be back to how they were after. I need this. I’m sorry I was mad at you. Maybe I should have stayed and joined so I wouldn’t feel so jealous.. Maybe this will help.”
“You need to even out the score a bit, huh?”
He looked worried at how you worded it. “Y- Is that okay? It sounds horrible like that…”
You gave him a smile. “It’s fine, Sam. Really. I get it.” You pressed your lips to his to reassure him.
He smiled a bit into it before your mouth opened for him again and he pulled you close. You both laid there kissing for awhile, and you could feel him growing hard against you. “I should let you know now..” He mumbled as he started kissing your jaw. “I don’t fuck like Dean. I’m a bit rougher. If you need me to stop, or slow down-”
“I’m not fragile, Sam.” You moaned softly as he moved down your neck. “You won’t break me. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll let you know. Colors good?”
“Mhmm.” He hummed against your neck. “Colors are good. Now get on your hands and knees.”
“Yes, Sir.” You smirked at him as you started to shift.
He growled, and as soon as you were on your knees and bent over, he was behind you, pushing your nightgown up to your armpits, and kissing your back. You wiggled it off as he lowered your panties. You lift your knees one at a time so he could take them off and toss them aside.
You moaned softly as his big rough hands moved gently over your skin. “So soft.” He moaned before giving your right ass cheek a bite. You jumped slightly, and giggled making him smile. Sam loved the feeling of smooth, soft, cool skin under his fingers. There was barely a mark on you since John wouldn’t let you hunt. Part of him wanted to change that. Leave you with a bite, or a small bruise, maybe even a hand print as a show that he was there. He pulled away and raised his hand before bringing it down hard on your ass making you yell out at the sting. He smiled at the large pink print left behind. “So beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed it.
You let out a whine, he was right, he was nothing like Dean. Dean got right to getting you off, making sure you got off at least two or three times before he got one. Sam, Sam liked to drag it out. He liked to handle you, mark you as his, even if it was just for a moment. In that moment you belonged to him and no one else. You had a feeling you would carry bruises for a few days after this. Dean had been careful not to leave you with much in the way of marks, but Sam didn’t seem to care. Neither did you.
You gasped when you felt his tongue lick from your clit up to your ass before dipping into it. “Oh fuck Sam!” Your hips arched back against him. He groaned and you felt a finger against your clit. “Oh shit..” You whimpered.
He ate your ass out to perfection, his fingers never letting up on your clit. Your toes were curling, and you were gripping the sheet under you as nonsensical sounds fell from your lips. And at the perfect moment, his thumb pushed into your soaking wet cunt, and you cried out, clenching around it and screaming his name.
You shook against him and he smiled as he kissed over to your left ass cheek and left another bite to match the one on the right. As you caught your breath, he put his thumb in his mouth and moaned. “You taste good, sweetheart.”
You glanced over your shoulder at him, still panting. “Jesus, Sammy. No one’s ever made me cum like that before.”
He grinned and kissed between your shoulder blades. “Ready for another?”
You let out a whimper. “Fuck yes.”
You felt him shift as he reached down for his bag between the bed and the wall. “You might want to hold on to the headboard.” He chuckled. “I don’t want you hitting your head.”
“Yes, Sir.” You bit your lip and grabbed the headboard with one hand. You heard a condom wrapper open, and then felt his tip at your entrance after he had it on.
“Ready?”
“Oh yeah. Fuck me, Sammy.” He slid in slowly about half way, listening to how you sounded as he did it, then he pulled back. You whined. “Come on, Sam-” He cut you off by slamming in to the hilt and you cried out.
“Be a good girl, and scream for me.” He groaned in your ear as he fucked you with a hard and relentless pace. His fingers on one hand digging into your hip, the other around your throat.
“Sam..” You croaked out, loving every second of this.
Dean came back the next day, and smiled walking in when he saw you and Sam. “Looks like things got better with me gone. Should I be insulted?” He teased. Your smile fell a bit. “What?” He asked confused.
You got up, and grabbed a sweater. “You two need to talk.” You told him gently as you pulled it on. The sweater didn’t do up so you just wrapped it around yourself a bit, more for comfort than warmth. You were worried about how this would go. “I’m sorry, Dean.” You told him softly before walking out. Dean was still in the doorway as you moved and sat on the hood of the Impala.
“Sam, what’s going on?”
“I fucked her, Dean.”
“You what!?” Dean stepped in and kicked the door shut cutting them off from you. You sighed and looked down at your hands. You hoped Sam was right, that Dean would understand. You couldn’t handle Dean being mad at you now.
Your mind raced while you waited. Trying to think up what they’d say, how they’d say it, how Sam would make him understand how he felt and why he went against the rule just this once. “I ruin everything I touch, don’t I?” You mumbled to yourself. It felt like it had been an eternity of waiting. Maybe they were fucking it out. You knew that was the Winchester way of dealing with things. Booze and sex.
Then the door opened, and Dean shot you a glare. “Get the fuck off my car.” He growled.
“Sorry.” You hopped down, and shied away from him. You played with the hem of your sleeve as you started to walk away.
“Get in.” He told you as he opened the driver side door. You turned and looked confused. “Get. In.”
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