Winchester x Sister!Reader
Imagine playing against the witch who takes and gives years depending if you win or lose in a game of poker against him. You’re playing for Dean’s years.
Warnings: Light language, some pranking at the end brother fluff
A/N: This was really fun to write. I know I’ve been writing a lot of Sister fics, I’ll be posting some different ones soon as I get some ideas!
Forever tag list: @Freaksforthewin , @thewinhunter, @cambriacaneatnoodles, @brokennoone ,@youtubehelpsmesurvive , @chrisevansthedoritobastard , @winchesters-favorite-girl , @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot @godh8salyssa
Curses. Witches. Spells. The whole ordeal, it just gave you chills. Especially after that one time that you were stuck in a bad position and ended up being on the wrong side of a deal. Dean, had gone and been a dumbass who tried to get the Mark of Cain off. You didn’t know why the hell playing cards with a witch and purposely losing to loose some years of life was the answer, but he did it. Only, he lost more years her bargained for. When an old, grey haired man walked into the motel room that was rented for you and your two brothers, the first thing you did was grab your gun and aim it at him.
“Whoa! Calm down! I’ve been through enough tonight, I don’t need to add being shot to the damn list,” there was something about how they talked. But one look into his candy apple green eyes and you knew who it was.
“Dean? You look- different…” switching your gun back to safety, you couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit.
“Yeah, I went and got a haircut. Of course I look different! I’m as old as Bobby!” the yelling took the breath out of Dean, making him sit down and catch his breath.
“Watch it boy,” the old(er?) man behind Dean wheeled in the front door which was wide open. “Lookin’ good son,” the three of you, Sam, Bobby, and yourself, couldn’t help but laugh.
“Bad date?” Sam couldn’t help but pitch in. Not everyday your older brother ages like there’s no tomorrow. At the rate he was aging, there may not be a tomorrow for him.
“Ha ha ha, shut up,” in each ‘ha’ Dean gave off, a short wheeze followed it. Making you laugh once again.
“How many years did you loose, old timer?” even as you spoke, you giggled. He wasn’t amused.
“I initially gambled to lose twenty years, but somehow a few drinks later, twenty turned to forty,” wait, was he serious? “Added with twenty…” okay he was screwed with a capital ‘S’.
“You lost sixty years? You’re already thirty you moron! And the way you down greasy foods like it's air, you won’t live much longer,” the tone in your voice was like he always did to you when scolding you back in the day- wait, last time he scolded you was yesterday…this age thing was messing you up.
“Oh good, you can count and calculate,” the old man sitting on the bed tried to raise his voice but couldn’t, wheezes came out.
“Make sure he doesn’t move, he might give himself a damn aneurism,” grabbing your coat, you headed towards the door. Nobody bothered asking what you were doing because it was obvious, you were getting your brother back to being your brother instead of your grandpa.
“I want to make a deal,” the witch before you listened intently. “I’m 26- you take a certain amount of my years and when I win, you give them back to Dean and all the ones he lost,” he laughed at you.
“That hardly seems like a fair trade, sweeten the pot,” rolling your eyes and scoffing, you realized this wasn’t going to end well for you. Dean sooooo owed you.
“Every year I gain, you get. I’ll stay that age forever. So…we got a deal, or what?” by the pleased look on his face at your offer, you could tell he was all in. Of course you won.
You deserved a beer. Too bad a two and a half year old couldn’t drink beer…The boys and Bobby opened the door to be greeted by the witch who held you in his arms. Nobody questioned anything. Dean was himself, and well- you weren’t. He set you down and you did ran barefoot over to your oldest brother.
“Bean!” you had no idea what had just happened, it was like any other day in your life, and this all seemed normal. “Shiny,” the tiny hands connected to your body reached for his Samulet. But he pulled away.
“No, we don’t touch that,” it was like he had to teach you everything all over again. “So uh, any ideas on how to get her to the right age again? I’m not going through the toddler stage a second time…” every word he said was just like nonsense to you. Big sentences that confused you.
“Why not?” Sam walked I’ve and took you from Dean. “I forgot how cute she was as a little kid,” as if on cue, both of your hands reached up on both sides of his face, grabbed a handful of hair directly from the root, and pulled.
“Still think she’s cute? I don’t know about you, but I’d much prefer the annoying adult brat child instead of this one,” Dean cracked open a beer, sitting down at the table.
“Well until we figure something out, looks like we’re stuck with her like this,” wheeling over to you, Bobby reached upward and took you from Sam, setting you in his lap. “We can take turns babysitting and whoever isn’t scheduled, looks for a cure for this,” he continued taking while you were busy playing with the wheels on his wheel chair, trying to copy what his hands did.
24 Hours In
Well your first night as a kid again was interesting. Sleeping situation was a problem at first, but Dean insisted Sam shared a bed with you. He must’ve remembered your potty problems at bedtime at this age because you wet the bed, and on Sam, in your sleep. Nobody was amused. Well Dean was, until the smell hit him. As punishment for his little prank, Dean got to bathe you. He’d forgotten how sensitive your stomach was to water either a little too hot or too cold for you, which ended with you throwing up on him.
“Forget the water has to be the same temperature as her body?” Sam poked his head in the door at the sound of Dean making a gross sound and you crying.
“Shut up, can you take her so I can shower and get this crap off of me?” It was like an endless cycle of them using you for pranking each other.
Bobby was busy doing research so he wasn’t around to see it. He’s probably treat them like the children they were acting like…and watching.
48 Hours In
Sam was off helping Bobby and Cas with research so it was just you and Dean at the bunker. The worst time of the day was coming up: Nap time. Dean had tried everything to get you to go down just for an hour at minimum, but had no luck. He set you in the room, you cried until he came back. He left the door open, you cried until he came back. Put the TV on for you, guess what? You cried until he came back. Finally he realized there was no way in hell you were sleeping unless he was laying besides you, just like every normal nap time you had back when you were supposed to be this age.
Reluctantly, Dean crawled under the covers with you in his bed, seeing as your pillows were wet from tears. Instantly your tiny body snuggled directly into his. He was laying on his left side and had you facing him, holding you into his chest.
The pointer finger on your right hand began twirling what hair it could from his head around your finger. “Fre-tels.” you half yawned the words.
“What?” pulling you back a little, he looked into your sleepy eyes that were barely even open.
“Fre-tels.” your hand pulled away from his strand of now messy curled hair and placed an open palm on his right cheek. “Fre-tels.” he couldn’t help but smile.
“You want to play the freckle game?” a sleep nod was all he got in return. Crying took a lot out of you. “Start counting then, Princess,” bright green and hazel mixed eyes opened in front of him as your pointer finger from the same hand that was once on his cheek, extended in a crooked way.
“One.” the finger landed directly on one of his freckles. He repeated what you did, only his finger landed on your face counting out loud as you did.
“Two.” you found a freckle placed on his chin. It was the only one there, all alone in that one section on his perfect face. Only able to be seen up close. He returned with his own second freckle right on the tip of your nose. You giggled a little as he tapped it.
“Tree.” he made his own giggle as you mispronounced the next number. By the time it was your turn, you were our cold. This game always worked before, looks like nothing changed.
1 Week In
Both your brothers continued switching back and forth on babysitting duty. Cas wasn’t trusted enough to be in charge of a young child so he didn’t get to watch you on his own. Bobby constantly worked at finding you a way out of this mess so he never watched you.
Today was Sam’s turn. Dean had left a few hours ago and the Rapunzel Disney movie you guys had just finished was over.
“Punzel braids.” sitting on the bed with your feet dangling down onto Sam’s shoulders who sat on the ground, you reached for his hair. He must’ve sensed you were going to grab hold because he moved. His head was pretty tender since you’d been de-aged and had an obsession with yanking on it.
“No, Y/n. We don’t touch brother’s hair,” he turned around to look at you but was greeted by the biggest set of puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen. “I forgot you learned that from me…”
An Hour Later
“Well it took a week, but we finally found a-” Dean stopped talking at the site of the tangled and knotted rats nest resting on Sam’s head. With a very happy kid sitting behind him making it worse with all sorts of tools: a fork, hair brush, tiny pink clips, a few hair-ties, hair spray, and a straightener you thought was working but wasn’t even plugged in.
“Glad we found a way to reverse this because…I don’t know how much more of this I could take,” the sound of your humming was in the background as he spoke. “By the way, I might need help brushing this out…”
Later The Next Day
You were back to your proper age, everything was normal again. Well….
“I’m so sorry again, Sam…kids huh?” a sheepish smile played on your lips as you set down his salad you’d made.
“Well now when we want him to get a haircut, we know how to make it happen,” Dean walked by, brushing the short hair on his younger brothers full head of hair.
“I swear, I’m getting back at you for this, Y/n,” oh he would hold his promises. And he did a pretty good job too. He had short hair, and you had bright blonde hair instead of your beautiful black natural color. Family problems caused by witches…