#brother!sam

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, breakup, shit ex-bf, cheating.

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Having a supportive, loving boyfriend was a dream come true to you. Your boyfriend Harry was great at first. He was the best. Always asking if you were comfortable and happy, being sweet, taking you out and all that you could dream. However over the past few weeks, Harry had been getting distance. You two had been dating for three months now and you couldn't understand how quick he changed.

You had just arrived at Harry's place. He had said he was busy today, but his car out front gave you another impression. You used your key to enter his house and the first thing that hit your ears was a moan. A female moan. You tried really hard to think he was just watching something, but as you walked up to his bedroom and pushed the door open only to see your boyfriend and a random girl in the bed, naked, you broke.

"What the fuck!" You screamed, Harry and the girl jumped apart, scrambling to get their clothes.

"You fucking asshole! If you didn't want to date me you should have fucking broke up not be a lowlife and fucking cheat!" You shouted.

"We're done! I hate you!" You added, storming out the house before Harry could even get his pants on.

You rushed home, tears streaming down your face. You were angry, broken and hurt all at once. You couldn't believe him.

When you got home, you ran to your bedroom. Your brother Sam was sat on the sofa on his laptop, when he saw you rush in. He got up and followed you to your room, the broken cries making him worried.

"Y/n, can I come in?" He asked softly, pushing your door open a bit.

"S...Sure." You mumbled through cries.

Sam walked and came over, seeing you laid face down on your bed, cries racked through your body, making him upset too. He sat down and rubbed your back gently.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Harry....He's a fucking dick." You angrily answered.

"What did he do?" Sam questioned.

"Fucking cheated with some other girl!" You shouted, your fists balled up and punched your pillows.

Sam sighed and rubbed your back, helping you calm down for a bit. Once you had slowly stopped crying, the tears silently rolled down your face, he brought you into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry he's a dickhead. I know the right guy is out there for you and sadly, Harry wasn't the one." Sam softly said, rubbing circles on your back still.

"Just hurts." You mumbled, laying your head on his shoulder.

"I know it does. It's going to for a while. Colby and I are here for you okay?" He replied.

You nodded, looking at the photo of you and Harry after your second date. You sighed and slowly got up, placing the photo face down.

"You want a movie and some ice cream?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah, sounds good." You said quietly, going to lay on your bed again.

Sam nodded and headed to grab some ice cream from the freezer before coming back to you. He saw you curled up in your blankets looking for a movie to watch.

"Thank you." You said as he joined your side and passed you the ice cream.

"Your my sister, I'm always going to be here for you. If you want a movie and ice cream you got it. You want me and Colby to beat his ass, you got it. I'm here for you." He said, pulling you in for another tight hug.

Supernatural Masterlist // Full Masterlist

Sister!Reader x Sam and Dean

You were actually clueless as to how you’d gotten Dean here. It had been months of begging and attempted black-mail. Hell, you had even asked Sam. But neither brother would budge. Until today.

There was no chance you were going to say no when Dean dangled the car keys in front of your face this morning. You had been waiting months for one of your brothers to cave and it had finally happened.

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam

Age: 20

Warnings: Drowning mention

Word Count: 2,993

Summary: The investigation brings on new connections, revelations and deaths around every corner as you and your brothers get closer to finding the real monster of Lake Manitoc.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent messages while I was away. I appreciate every one of you so, so much. Thankfully (and miraculously) both of my grandparents have made full recoveries. (Still positive for COVID but symptom-free.) As usual, all dialogue taken directly from the episode will be in italics.

~ ~ ~ ~

“So, there’s the three drowning victims from this year,” Sam said, his eyes never leaving the computer screen in front of him. You were going through the clothes with Dean, silently planning a trip to the local laundromat as the “too used to wear again” pile grew larger and larger by the second.

“And before that?” Dean asked, lifting a shirt to his nose before setting it down on the bed beside him—the first of few wearable clothes.

“Uh, yeah. Six more, spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered, either. If there is something out there, it’s picking up its pace,” Sam replied.

DeanxSister!Reader, SamxSister!Reader

Synopsis: You couldn’t save the girl. It hits you pretty hard.

NOTE: Short and sweet

MASTERLIST

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Dean’s the one to grab your arm when you get inside the bunker. You stop cold at the top of the stairs, keeping your eyes fixed straight ahead. You don’t try to pull away, experience had taught you that Dean won’t let go until he’s got what he wants.

“C’mon kiddo, it wasn’t your fault,” he rumbles, as if the words are going to erase the loop in your head, playing the same scene. You, the werewolf, the young girl who still had a life to live. “Y/N.”

You don’t move. “Let me go, Dean.”

His grip, if anything, tightens. “Y/N, you can’t let it get to you. There was nothing you couldn’t done-“

“You aren’t John,” you spit, and you want it to hurt him because you’re angry and guilty and you’re so goddamn stupid. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I could’ve saved her, I should’ve been able to save her, Dean, and I let her die instead. That’s on me.”

“It’s not,” he tries to insist, but his grip slackens and he lets you walk down the stairs.

You refuse to acknowledge the reason he does so. It’s because he knows you’ll seek him out later, once it’s hit you fully just what happened. You’ll seek him out, because you’re weak and pathetic and you can’t even save one girl.

You walk all the way to your room without registering a single step.

You think at one point, Sam calls your name.

You ignore him, just like you ignored Dean’s shout of your name when you’d knocked his bag off the table when he’d tried to stop you from isolating yourself one more time.

Your room is hollow, like you, and you stand in the middle do the floor for a while, just breathing the silence and the stillness. You want to be as plain as your walls, as unfeeling as the greyscale paint job.

You’re so sick of not saving people.

You don’t want to dwell on it yet, and there’s blood on your skin, so you move to the bathroom in a daze, your feet barely making a sound. Your boots are covered in mud, so they leave stains on the floor. You can’t bring yourself to care.

It takes too much energy to strip down, but you do it anyway, just for the sake of being clean. You stand under the water and watch the red disappear down the drain. You wish blame could wash away that easily.

You spend a long time under the warm jets of water, finding solace in the pressure on your skin. You feel like it cleanses you, makes this all a little more bearable. You stand there until you can’t bear to be there anymore, then you turn the water off and simply stand for a moment longer.

For a second, just a second, you hear the girl’s dying screams in your ears.

Then it’s nothing but a heavy, pressing quiet again and you hurry into fresh undergarments, loose sweats and a plain shirt.

You walk back into our room and lie on the bed, your dripping hair causing damp spots on your back and the bed sheets. It makes your head cold, but it also soothes your headache, so it’s a sacrifice you can make.

There’s a knock on your door, and you know in a heartbeat that it’s Dean.

“I brought food,” he says quietly, opening the door. He has a tray in his hands. There’s a plate with plain fries and a cup of apple juice. It’s your comfort food. “I thought it might help.”

You nod and let him place the tray in front of you. “Thank,” You rasp, and say no more.

Dean tuts softly. “Your hair is still dripping wet. You’ll catch cold.” You shirt and start picking at your fries, so Dean huffs slightly and shuffles away, reappearing moments later with a dry towel and your hairbrush. “Move over, you big lug.”

Mindlessly, you shift forward and he clambers onto the bed behind you. He drapes the towel over your head childishly, cackling like it’s actually funny. You don’t say anything and he gives up, just starts towelling your darker locks to get rid of the excess moisture. “When I started hunting with Dad for the first time,” he says, starting to run your brush through your hair very gently. “I missed a shot. Because of that, a little boy got badly injured. He died because of his injuries a few days later. Dad ripped me a new one. Told me I’d never be a hunter if I couldn’t shoot straight.”

You hum noncommittally, and Dean tugs on your hair playfully.

“For weeks, the only thing he’d let me do was shoot cans on a fence,” he continues. “I hit every one. Dead center. He still didn’t let me stop. He said, ‘Dean, you’re going to live with that boys death for the rest of your life. You’re going to feel it in every shot. Make them all count.’ He was right.”

Dean starts braiding your hair, and you start properly eating your fries instead of just picking.

“What was his name?” You ask in a whisper. “The boy?”

Dean finishes the braid. “Kyle. His name was Kyle.”

You chew on your lip in thought before saying, “The girl I failed today. Her name was Alex.”

Dean stands up and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “I know,” he answers, and that’s that. “Now,” he says, gathering your tray. You’ve eaten most of the fries and drained the juice. “I’ll take this out, and bring back Sam, yeah? We can watch a movie.”

You nod. “Yeah okay.”

Dean gives a half smile, and bends forward and presses another kiss to your forehead. “Good girl,” he breathes.

“Dean,” you say as he walks out the door. He pops his head back in. “Thanks.”

Imagine being the youngest Winchester and Sam and Dean don’t know what to do when you’re on your period.

“Guys, I think I'm going to have to sit this hunt out.”

Sam gave you a strange look, “What're you talking about?”

You gritted your teeth, your ears flaring red, “I just can’t this time.”

“We’ve taken on vampires before, what's different this time?” Dean asked, frowning at you across the table.

“Really, it's not a big deal, I just can’t do vampires right now-" you insisted, more than reluctant to admit the truth of the matter.

“Is something wrong, [f/n]?” Sam’s expression was turning concerned.

“They'll smell me coming,” you finally gritted out between your teeth, cheeks flushed pink in humiliation.

Dean blinked and frowned, “What, are you hurt or- oh.” Realization dawned over his face and his eyes widened. “That.”

Sam seemed to have come to the same conclusion. “Yeah, sure, feel free to sit this one out then. Is there, uh, anything you want us to get while we're out?”

Your face felt like it might burst into flames with the power of your embarrassment, “Can you pick me up a pack of pads?”

A/N: This is my absolutely ridiculously late entry for @dreamin-of-somewhere-else ‘s celebration challenge. Does it even count as an entry anymore? I’m so sorry. Apparently my first semester of college kicked my writing ass, but I really really hope to get back on the train. Pls forgive me. Prompt is in bold

Warnings: angsty and just... sad. idk

Pairings: mostly Sam x sister!reader (some Dean & John)

Word Count: 848

Sam’s Age: 18

Reader Age: ~12

Gif cred

Echoing shouts from outside the motel room woke you. You lifted your head off the pillow and squinted at the window. Through the half-open curtains, you could see your Dad and brothers.

“It’s always about what you want! Have you ever thought about what I want? Have you ever even considered what might be best for your own son?!”

The first voice you could make out was Sam’s. You sat up and crawled closer to the window.

“Okay, alright. Let’s just calm down, tough guy.”

That voice belonged to Dean. You peeked through the curtains and listened closer.

“Go inside, Sam.”

Request/Summary:  just once, you’d like to go out and have fun - like everybody else

Pairings: sister!winchester x sam, sister!winchester x dean

Words: a lot like 2145 ish

Warnings: tiny bit of swearing, mentions of underage drinking, bit of sexual harassment & bit of violence

Specific time/Important info: reader is a teenager, my entry for @winchesters-favorite-girl ‘s 31 days of halloween challenge - october 27, ‘sneaking out’

i’ve never really wrote anything like this before so it isn’t the greatest thing in the world but hey ho i tried

You had a strange relationship with Halloween. On one hand, it was a time to have fun and eat candy. On the other, it didn’t feel quite right to see people dress up as the monsters you knew weren’t quite as harmless as the people wearing the costumes. But you tried to think less about the latter, and more about eating all the chocolate you could get your hands on.

This year was no exception. Like always, a group of kids in your year at school were holding another halloween party for the entire grade. Like always, you wanted to go, and be with your friends who went every year, and eat too much sugar that’ll make you vomit, and listen to music that’s too loud, and pretend to be normal so you can just fit in. Like always. Dean didn’t have a problem with it. But like always, Sam refused to even consider letting you go. 

“Sammy, please. C’mon- I’ve got straight As at school, I never go against you, I always help do the research for a hunt. Do I not deserve this one night? I promise I won’t do anyth-”

“No.”

“But Sam, you say this every year. And every year I do what you ask, I just want this one time to h-”

“I said no.”

“Please, Samm-”

“Y/n. You can either stop this and go about your day, or you can carry on arguing and stay in your room for the rest of the day. The choice is yours.” He left the library mumbling something about ‘teenagers’ as you turned to your left, dragging a hand to rub the back of your neck. Sam wasn’t usually like this - in fact, it was only really in October when he got this way. Every year near Halloween, his research into local cases got ten times harder because of all the pranks and fake stories spread around towns. You couldn’t blame him for being a little more stressed out than usual.

“Enjoy the show, De?”

“Honestly, I had a great time.” Your brother smirked as you dragged yourself to the chair next to him. “You know, he’s just worried about you, Y/n/n. Neither of us want anything bad to happen to you.”

You looked at your brother. “No- I know, I get it. It’s just.. I mean, you of all people should get where I’m coming from.” You paused slightly. “Wait. You are on my side, aren’t you?”

“You already know I am.” You looked at him hopefully. “But you know he’ll never let me convince him to let you go tonight.”

You frowned slightly. “It was worth a shot,” you started to get out of your chair.

“However, you may or may not feel so sick that you have to stay alone in your room all night,” you looked at your brother like he had two heads, “and I may or may not take Sam out to pick up some food at 7:30, so there may or may not be 15 minutes tonight when nobody but you is in the bunker, and there may or may not be somebody stopping you from doing whatever you so wish to do.”

You looked at your big brother with weary yet thankful eyes.

“I’d have wanted to do the same thing at your age. And we both know I’m not necessarily the best role model for shit like this. Just stay safe, alright? No funny business with anyone, you hear? And, for the love of God, don’t drink any alcohol while you’re there.”

You raised your eyebrows at that last one.

“I’m serious - I know how rich that sounds coming from me. But please, Y/n.”

“You have my word.”

As you hurried out of the library, you shot an extremely grateful “Thank you!” at Dean. You didn’t have the time to stay - you had an outfit to figure out. Besides, you didn’t want to infect Dean with your sickness.

19:27

…

19:28

…

19:29

…

19:30

Each minute was slower than the one before it. What felt like hours had barely been seconds; it didn’t matter now, though. You were in your outfit (you ripped up an old shirt that Sam had given you so you could be a gore-less zombie), Sam and Dean were currently in the Impala, and your friend was on her way to pick you up. You were about to spend a night surrounded by your friends and dancing to your favourite songs. What could go wrong?

A lot. 

A lot could go wrong. As you stood down the street from the party, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks, you gripped tightly onto your brother’s shirt. Sam was right. Deep down, you knew he would’ve been since you first mentioned your plans for tonight. But you just wanted this one time to prove him wrong, to prove that you could be responsible, to prove to your friends that you were just like them. 

The party had been fine when you first got there. Yes, there was alcohol. No, you didn’t drink any of it. Although you wanted to fit in, you wanted to keep you promise more. You filled a red solo cup with diet coke and entered the room of sweaty teenagers and overpowering music. You and your friends found a fairly empty corner and danced with each other. For once, you were actually having fun. Were. Everything was going fine at first, but you couldn’t help the fact that all the underage drinking around you was making you feel quite uncomfortable. You obviously knew it’d happen, and it wasn’t the drinking itself that made you feel uneasy - it was how it made some people feel like their actions were okay.

Teenage boys + a seemingly bottomless cup? Not always the greatest combination. Some of them weren’t so bad - in fact, the group dunk guys in the middle of the room screaming the lyrics to Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies’ only improved the night. What made it worse, however, was the boy (whose name you didn’t even know) who thought that it’d still be a good idea to grind on you after you politely, and then maybe not so politely, asked him to stop over and over and over again. You attempted to step around him to get to the bathroom. He didn’t like that.

He grabbed your chest. “Where do you think you’re going, babe?”

Your eyes grew wide and you shoved him off of you. Anger poured into your veins and you couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. He smirked. Without thinking twice, you brought your foot up to his shin and rushed past him. You should’ve listened to your brother.

Feeling like you were trapped in a labyrinth, you eagerly pushed past everyone. You needed to get out into the fresh air and away from whoever the boy was. When you got through the front door, you were met with a sparsely crowded front yard which left you slightly relieved. At least if he followed you, he couldn’t do anything. Although there were fewer people outside than in, anything he did would be a lot more obvious - he wouldn’t have the guts to do it.. right? 

Wrong. He stormed through the door almost straight after you and his face reflected something that was anything but happy. Fuck. He squared up to you, trying to make himself seem as intimidating as possible. It worked. You didn’t want them to, but your hands began to shake as soon as you looked the stranger in the eye. 

“Think you’re funny? Doing that in front of everyone?” His words slurred so badly that you struggled to piece together what he was saying. You opened your mouth to try and formulate a response, but the wind was knocked out of you before any noise could leave your lips. Pain simultaneously spread from your cheek and your gut and you doubled over. ‘All of this,’ you thought to yourself, ‘because I didn’t want to dance.’

He left almost instantly. Not because of guilt. Not because of shame. But because a friend had called him back inside because he was ‘missing out’.

You were disgusted. You wanted to cry, scream, shout at the people watching. You wanted to, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. They’d just say you were overreacting. So you left.

You walked as far as the street would take you, until you could no longer hear the music from the house. You reached in your pocket, pulled out your phone and dialed Dean’s number. When he picked up, you kept your voice as calm as possible whilst you told him the name of the road and the small store you were stood in front of. He asked what had happened - his big brother instincts instantly taking over - and he knew you were lying the second you opened you mouth. You were about to hang up. “J-just please, don’t tell Sam.” You pressed the red button.

The sight of Baby pulling up tipped you off the edge. The tears you’d tried so hard to keep back fell down your face. In seconds, Dean was out of the car and engulfing you in a hug. 

“I’m so sorry, De. I promise I-I didn’t drink, it wasn’t my fault.”

“Shh, sh, y/n/n. It’s okay.” He was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“He heard the call.”

You turned your head to the Impala, and sitting in the passenger seat was no other than Sam Winchester. Your heart dropped further into your chest and more tears spilled from your eyes.

You got into the car, pulled your knees to your chest and refused to make eye contact with anyone. The silence surrounding you lasted until the end of the street.

“Tell us what happened.” The voice was emotionless. 

“Sammy,” Dean could clearly see that you were distressed. As much as he wanted to know what had happened and why you were in such a state, he was aware that right now probably wasn’t the best time to ask.

“What? She’s big enough to go against the one thing I asked of her, so she’s big enough to tell us why she’s upset.”

“Sam-”

“Dean.”

You glanced at the older brother and saw that his knuckles were turning white. “Sam, I get that you’re pissed. I know that I shouldn’t have encouraged her to go and I know that you’re angry. But shut the hell up. Y/n should have listened to you, but she didn’t and there’s nothing you can do to change that. Our sister is obviou-”

“He came over to me. I-I don’t even know his name, but he was drunk,” you interrupted their argument, “a-and he started touching me. I didn’t like it so I told him to stop. B-but he wouldn’t listen.”

The car was deadly silent. 

“I-I kicked him, hard. In the shin. And I ran away from him but he followed me and he, h-he was angry. He shouted at me and slapped me and punched me and” you couldn’t hold it together anymore. Voice cracks turned into sobs, tear drops became floods. By the time you’d finished talking, Dean was parking the car at the bunker. You chanced a look up at Sam, fully expecting him to be staring straight ahead. His eyes were locked on you, his mouth parted slightly. Your brother’s eyes were full of pity and sorrow, and still a little bit of anger.

“I’m so, so sorry Sammy.”

Dean lifted you up, kissed your head, and took you inside. He tried to take you to your room; you refused. You didn’t want to sleep yet - your mind was still racing. You asked if it was okay for you to stay in the library for a couple of hours, and he said yes. Before he put you down, he held onto you for a few moments. Despite not making a sound, you heard every word he wanted to say. 

You didn’t sit alone for very long. The other Winchester knew where you’d be and decided to sit next to you. You weren’t mad. You didn’t know what you felt, but you knew you weren’t upset with your brother. He’d just been trying to help you and you just assumed that you knew better. Your hand rested on the table silently, and his reached up to join it. You couldn’t help the way it flinched away, in something that was almost like fear. You could almost feel your brother’s heart crack next to you. You hated this. You hated the way you were too scared to talk. You hated the way you felt some sort of fear towards your brother. You hated the way you had become so weak in such little time.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

For anon

Request: Could you do a one shot where the reader is tortured by lucifer in front of her older brothers Sam and Dean?

Warnings: a very dark imagine, so except a lot of warnings. Swearing, torture, blood, sadness, and some I probably forgot

A/N: This was so dark to write, I loved it so much! 

You had no idea on how you ended up here. It happened so fast, you couldn’t remember exactly how. All you knew was that you were trapped in a creepy room by the one and only Lucifer. You couldn’t move at all, your hands and feet were tied and the panic didn’t help, you were scared for your life and for what was next for you. You knew it wasn’t going to be good for you. And you were alone on this room. You have no clue on where your brothers could be, but you wished they were here, so you wouldn’t be as scared as you actually were. 

But when Dean and Sam entered the room, they had their hands tied, following them was Lucifer who had his kine of scary smirk, at this moment you knew something bad was going to happen to you. Your brothers looked as panicked as you, they didn’t know how to get the advantage of the situation, how to help you. Your heart was beating really fast, you tried to find reasurrance in your brothers eyes, but all you could see was fear. 

When Lucifer walked to you, you tried to find a way to get up and go to your brothers, but obviously, it didn’t work. You tried to fight back Lucifer but you knew it was useless, he was way stronger than you. Sam and Dean hated to have to see this, seeing their little sister so scared and the fact that they couldn’t help you was actually the worse feeling in the whole world. And yet, it was only the beginning of what Lucifer planned for you.

When you saw Lucifer taking a knife who looked very sharp, you closed your eyes in fear, you heard your brothers gasping. You were praying internally for this torture to stop. Lucifer put the sharp knife against your skin, and dragged the knife on your arm, making you bleed. You started to scream in pain while Lucifer was enjoying to torture you in front of your two older brothers. Lucifer continued to torture you, cutting you a little everywhere. You were bleeding and crying in pain. You just wanted it to stop, the pain needed to stop. Your brothers were angry at the monster, how he could dare hurting you? Dean tried as much as he could to undo the knot of the rope tied around his wrists. He needed to save you. While Sam was looking around, searching for something to cut the rope. They knew they had to save you. You were the most precious thing they had in their lives, and they couldn’t stay here without trying everything to save you. Your screams would hunt them until the end of their lives.

While Lucifer was too busy to enjoy to torture you, Sam found something sharp enough to cut the ropes, so that’s what he did before cutting his brother’s ropes. Dean didn’t wait for a second and jumped on Lucifer, making him stop to torture you. Sam cut the ropes on your wrists and ankles, he helped you to get up. Dean couldn’t stop punching Lucifer angrily, he never wanted to kill him that much before today.

” Dean stop, we need to go “ said your brother Sam, holding you so you wouldn’t fall on the floor