Author: HookahPop
Anon asked: Can you write a one shot where the reader is Dean and Sam's little sister and they walk in on her a a "bad boy" making out and they aren't very thrilled about it?
Warnings: Minor language and implications of, uh, activities.
Word Count:1,102
You weren't really the youngest. You were two years younger than Dean, and two years older than Sam. They just treated you as the youngest since you were a girl.
But you were shorter than them, and for some reason always turned out to be the damsel in distress. But you were just as skilled as those two, no matter what they said. You saved their asses more times than you could count, and sure they returned the favor, but you always felt smug when you turned out to be the hero.
It wasn't fair that Dean could sleep around with as many girls as he wanted, and when Sam had a one night stand every now and then, none of you guys said a word. But when you decided to sleep with a guy, it was the end of the world. It didn't stop you, of course, but the wrath of the brothers always made you feel a bit guilty. You knew there was no problem with it.
You didn't go around playing with guys, and you definitely weren't a slut. Girls have needs. And when you're always out on the road hunting, it's kind of impossible to have a steady relationship.
You and the boys were celebrating; sure, Metatron was still about, Abadon was at large, and the world was going to Hell, but you guys had managed to save a town from one of Abadon's goons without a single death (with the exception of the demons, of course). You needed a victory, and you got one. So drinks were on some fake credit card, and hangovers were welcome.
Sam was playing pool with a pretty blonde, and Dean was making flirty eyes with a cute red head. You were sipping on a pink fruity drink that you could only enjoy on special occasions like this. Sam and Dean hated anything that wasn't straight up vodka or beer, and Dean teased you when you asked for something with flavor. You enjoyed your drinks when you could.
"Another one for the pretty lady," a voice said behind you, and a tan hand set a bill on the counter.
You turned in your seat to see a handsome guy with a leather coat, dark jeans, and a sexy scruff that made you bite your lip. His hair was almost black, and his eyes were greener than Deans.
The bar tender started mixing another drink, and the guy sat down next to you, his eyes traveling up and down your body. Your eyes did the same, admiring how his grey t shirt left little to the imagination.
"You come here often?" the guy asked, and you could almost scoff.
"That's a classic," you noted, taking another sip.
His eyes crinkled when he smirked, and he leaned forward. "I suppose it is. But I'm still going to expect an answer, Babe."
You let the name slide. "I'm just passing through," you told him, taking a rather big swig and downing the rest of your drink. "Family road trip." You muttered the last part, scowling a little.
Another drink was set in front of you, and you took it thankfully.
"Sounds like you want to forget about it," the guy said, leaning forward slightly.
"Are you offering?" you asked, a flirty smile gracing your features.
One thing you were good at was flirting. Despite Sam and Dean griping about it all the time, even they had to admit that you had a… special talent for getting what you wanted.
The guy raised an eyebrow seductively. "The names Jake," he introduced.
"Y/N," you replied. Your eyes flitted to the dance floor, and without a second thought, you stood up, taking Jake's hand and dragging him to the mass of bodies.
The both of you danced to club songs that you didn't know the words to, thanks to Dean's obsession with classic rock. You had lost sight of your brothers long ago, so when Jake's suggested a different activity, you didn't hesitate. Neither of you were drunk, which you were pretty thankful for – drunk sex was the worst, in your opinion. You liked to remember the fun.
Instead of leading you to the parking lot, like you expected, Jake took you to a back corner, away from the crowded bodies and less smoke. Your back hit the wall, and your lips were being attacked by his. While his hands wandered, yours played with the hair at the nape of his neck, teasing and pulling. You were getting drunk on kisses, and you were craving something more. Your hands tugged at his jacket collar, asking silently, but your partner was suddenly yanked away.
You gasped in shock, and your eyes flew open, seeing the two men you were attempting to avoid. Dean had Jake by the collar, and Sam was at your side, a protective arm over your shoulders.
"What hell, guys?" you groaned. "One night. All I want is one night away from you both."
"Whoa, guys, I didn't know she was spoken for," Jake defended.
"Ewe, no," you shuddered. "These are my idiotic brothers, and we're leaving." You stepped forward to drag your toy for the night away, but your brothers had other plans.
At the same time Sam pulled you back, Dean punched Jake straight in the jaw.
"Dean!" you cried. "Stop it!"
But the fight had begun, and to your surprise, Jake held his own – for the first five seconds. Dean quickly overpowered him, and you gave up on trying to stop him. Sam didn't even bother holding you back any more.
This was common for when you and the boys went out. Sam and Dean would disappear until you found a guy, and then they'd magically appear out of the shadows to beat him up.
It was really sweet when you were sixteen. But now, you just wanted to punch them in the gut.
When poor Jake was suffering from what looked like a broken nose, you stepped in, judo flipping Dean.
"That's enough, Dean," you growled.
The crowd that had gathered was silent. You couldn't blame them; how often do you see a guy beat up another guy for making out with a girl, only for said girl to knock the first guy down in one move?
"If you could have handled him, why didn't you?" Dean asked, standing up and wiping off his jeans.
"Because I didn't want you," you snapped. "I was trying to get laid."
Your brothers cringed, and you rolled your eyes. "Morons," you griped, and stomped out of the bar. You'd properly punish them in the morning.