#Sam Fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imagineteamfreewill · 8 months ago

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Powerful Magic

Title: Powerful Magic

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 13.7k

Warnings: Brief language, witches, magic/curses, frequent mentions of death and dying, crying, very light blood, angst, fluff

Summary: While on a witch hunt in Boston, Sam puts his life on the line to save Y/N. When he begins to suffer from the effects of the magic the next morning, they’re forced into an impossible situation with no way out.

A/N: This is a commission for the lovely @park-simphwa. Thank you to them for giving me such a fun prompt to write, and thank you to everyone who supports me in a million other ways. As always, I hope you enjoy this story!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

You aren’t expecting to run into anyone on the grocery run, least of all your old hunting partner, but life’s been throwing fireball after fireball at you lately, so you really shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been years since you’ve seen Jason, and somehow he still looks exactly the same, maybe with a few more wrinkles and scars. His hair is still greasy and cropped close to his skull, and you can smell the cigarettes on him even from where you stand a few feet away. His boots are caked with dried mud that sprinkles across the tile of the grocery store every time he shifts his weight or takes a step to get out of someone’s way, which is often because he’s always been the type of guy that thinks of himself first and others second.

Smiling tightly, you yank your cart closer to the shelves of jarred salsa and bottles of colorful sodas to make room for people trying to get by, and you use that movement to look over your shoulder. There’s no sign of Sam or Dean.

Damnit.

“So, how’ve you been?” Jason asks. “You look good, Y/N.”

You nod. “Good, fine. How about you? Are you still…?” You don’t dare utter the words aloud, but Jason gets the hint. He nods.

“Still in pest control. It keeps me busy.” He grins, and you try not to grimace at the yellow tinge of his teeth. How had you ignored all of his red flags for so long? With the exception of your last hunt together, it’s not like Jason was necessarily a bad guy, he was just gross and inconsiderate. On top of the constant smoking, he always took too long to shower after coming back from hunts. You know for a fact that he only brushed his teeth once a week. Plus, you don’t remember ever seeing him do laundry, though logically, he’d done it at some point… Right? Or maybe you’d just gotten used to the stench.

“There you are,” Sam’s voice in your ear makes you shiver, but his hand on your lower back warms you right back up. “I was looking for you.” He pauses. “Who’s this?”

You glance up at him, smiling in relief. Sam doesn’t smile back. His face is a hard mask of protectiveness, one that you’re always grateful for, even if it’s being wasted. You know that he’s amping it up a little just because you were approached while he was out of sight. He’s always a little more protective when he thinks you’re getting hit on by some creep. You can’t count the number of times he’s pretended to be your boyfriend to help you avoid men hitting on you at the skeevy dive bars that you always seem to find after hunts. Part of you should be offended that he’s stepping in instead of letting you handle it yourself, but you know he doesn’t do it because he doesn’t think you’re capable. Sam does it because you shouldn’t have to fend them off on your own. You shouldn’t have to be in that position, but because you are, he’s not going to let you be there alone.

“This is Jason. He’s an old coworker, from before I joined up with you and Dean. Jason, this is my…”

You hesitate, instantly knowing that you shouldn’t. You and Sam are just friends. It doesn’t matter how badly you want to be more than that, or how easily the two of you fall into the rhythm of a fake relationship, both for a moment in the grocery store or for a week-long hunt. It doesn’t matter that Dean insists his younger brother likes you. It doesn’t matter what Sam said the one time you’ve seen him really, truly drunk. You’re just friends.

“—friend,” Sam finishes. He holds out his right hand, and his fierce expression has been replaced with a polite smile, though you can tell it’s fake. You know him well, but for a second, he almost looks a bit jealous. “Sam.”

Jason shakes his hand with both eyebrows raised. His smile had faded the second Sam approached, but now he seems uneasy. “Sam. And… Dean?” He glances between you and Sam. “As in…?”

You cut him off with a quick, “I’m so sorry, Jason, but we’re really cutting it close on time.” His mouth snaps shut and he has the decency to look chagrined. Anyone with any common sense in the hunting world knows not to name names, especially last ones. You never know who might be listening.

“She’s right. Dean’s waiting on us, and we’ve got to get back on the road. It was great meeting you,” Sam adds. “Any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine.” His hand drops from the small of your back. You try not to let your disappointment show.

With one last smile and a promise to keep in touch, even though all three of you know that you won’t, you make a u-turn with the cart and walk with Sam toward the checkout lanes. He doesn’t say anything as the two of you unload the items onto the belt, nor does he say anything as the items are scanned and bagged. Your stomach churns as the tension crackles between you. Why had you hesitated? Why had you acted so weird? Had Sam really been jealous, or did you just imagine it?

Chill out, you think as you load the bags of groceries into the cart. Sam pulls out his wallet and swipes his latest fraudulent card, then takes the receipt. You watch out of the corner of his eye as he tucks the card into the left hand pocket, the one he reserves for cards he’ll need to ditch soon.

You’re going to make this worse if you don’t relax.

You follow him out to the Impala, pushing the cart slow enough that you won’t run into him if he stops. Dean is already leaning against the side of the car. He has an energy drink in one hand and his phone in the other. Whatever else he decided to buy has already been loaded into the trunk. He glances between you and Sam as you get closer, clearly sensing something is off, and you watch as he straightens and deposits his phone into the pocket of his jacket.

“Everything okay?” Dean asks.

Before you can answer, Sam nods. “Yeah, all good. They were out of the soup you wanted.”

Dean grumbles to himself and opens the trunk, then helps you unload the groceries. His three bags of purchases are already tucked into the back, and you’re careful not to load anything on top of them in case he bought something that could get squished. As you work, Sam goes around to the passenger side and takes his seat, shutting the door behind him.

“What happened?” Dean asks you. He rearranges some of the bags you’ve put onto the trunk’s false bottom. Though there’s plenty of noise to talk over in the busy parking lot, he keeps his voice quiet enough that Sam won’t be able to hear it through the backseat.

You don’t meet his eyes. “Nothing. Just ran into an old partner of mine, that’s all.”

“Partner?” You can feel his gaze on you, and your cheeks grow warm.

“Not like that,” you huff. “We were just… partners. For a while, it could have been something else, but it never happened.”

“Why not?”

Unloading the last bag, you glance up at the storefront, where Jason is exiting. He’s only got two bags in hand, but there’s a six-pack of beer tucked under his arm. He already has a cigarette tucked between his lips. Dean looks past you and grunts a little.

“If that’s him, I can see why.”

“Be nice,” you tell him.

“Was he at least a good guy?”

You shrug. “He wasn’t bad. Just kinda gross, that’s all.”

Dean grabs your arm before you can walk away with the cart. You look back at him, and he’s watching you with the same protective glint in his eye that Sam had inside the store.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks, and you shake your head. “Did he say something to you in there?”

“No. That’s not why it was weird.”

“I gotta know if something happened, Y/N. If I’m gonna ride in the car with the two of you—”

“I hesitated, okay?” you answer, yanking yourself free from his grip. Your cheeks are definitely hot now, and it’s not the sun. It’s still cloudy from last night’s storm. “I went to introduce Sam and I hesitated.”

Dean is staring at you like you’ve just broken into song. “You hesitated?”

Sighing, you look up at the clouds, willing yourself not to be so embarrassed by this. It shouldn’t be this big of a deal.

“Yes, I hesitated. Instead of just saying that his name was Sam, I said, ‘This is Sam, my….’” You gesture with the hand not holding the cart, letting the unfinished sentence hang in the air.

His face twists. “Oh. Rookie move, Y/N.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“So what did you end up saying?” Dean asks.

“I didn’t. Sam finished and said he was my friend.”

“And you want to be more than friends.”

“I didn’t say that,” you quickly reply, but you look away, and your cover is ruined.

“Why don’t you believe me when I tell you that he likes you? You two are driving me insane. I’m going to lose my mind before we ever get to Boston if this keeps up.”

You roll your eyes and head towards the cart corral, then push the cart in with the others. Dean’s already in the driver’s seat by the time you start walking back, and he starts pulling out of the spot as soon as you have the back door shut. Sam doesn’t say anything. You cast him a quick glance, but that’s all you risk as you settle into your usual spot with the book he’s loaned you. It isn’t one you’re particularly interested in, but you’ve traded books for the trip. You’re fairly certain that you got the short end of the stick. Despite the years of friendship under your belt, he never takes your book suggestions. Then again, you don’t take his.

The universe finally takes mercy on you, and the rest of the drive to Boston goes by faster than expected. You have one overnight stay in a motel, but the boys decide to get two rooms instead of one, so you get a queen size bed and the bathroom all to yourself.

Once in Boston, you check in to a second motel, then head out to get your bearings. The person who sent the information to Dean had only given you the address for the hotel where the witch is supposedly hiding out, plus the names of two of the victims. Sam decides to look at some old, non-digitized records of the hotel, so you go with him, knowing that if you go with Dean, you’ll most likely end up at the morgue. You’re not really in the mood for a dead body. You’ll take an afternoon with your best friend over that any day, even if your best friend is currently giving you the cold shoulder.

You’re in one of the reservable rooms at the library, looking over the papers and logbooks spread out over the table, when Sam finally brings up the grocery store incident.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you look up from the patron log you’ve been carefully sorting through.

“Yeah, why?” You try not to seem surprised that he’s asking, considering he hasn’t said much of anything to you since you left the grocery store over 24 hours ago.

“You’ve been quiet since we ran into Jason.”

You shrug a little and look back down at the page, then flip it over to look at the names listed on the back. “I’ve been reading the book you loaned me.”

“It’s not that,” he says. “This is your ‘I made a mistake’ quiet.”

Not knowing how to answer, you keep your eyes on the book in front of you. Sam stares at you, and you can feel him watching you as you gingerly turn the page again.

“I don’t want to press—”

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” you finally say, still not looking up. It’s the truth, even if it’s not the whole truth. “It just… caught me off guard, that’s all. It’s not every day you run into someone that almost got you killed, you know? And then I was flustered when I introduced you, and I panicked. I was worried that maybe you were offended because I got all tongue-tied.”

He’s quiet for a second. You risk a glance in his direction, only to find that Sam is already watching you.

“What?” you ask. You fidget with the corner of the paper for a second, and then you have to force yourself to release it before you damage the time-worn parchment. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean—”

“No, that’s not it,” Sam interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not offended, Y/N. I don’t think you could ever offend me.”

The tension between you breaks, and you grin at him. “Oh yeah? Not ever?”

He laughs and pulls his laptop over to where he’s sitting. “Well, maybe if you—”

“No, you can’t take it back now!” you laugh. You scoot your chair closer to his, closing the palpable gap that had been left between you. Sam shifts his stuff to make room for you, and you smile wide, happy to have your friend back. You try to ignore the way your heart leaps into your throat for a brief moment after his hand brushes yours.

You continue researching, but only a couple minutes have passed before Sam clears his throat and speaks up again.

“So, you and Jason,” he starts, and you close the logbook. There’s nothing useful in it and you add it to the growing pile of books you’ve finished.

“What about me and Jason?”

“Were you ever… together?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Like, dating?” Sam nods and you grab another book, not wanting to look at him when you answer, “Yeah, for a little while, right before we split.”

“Ah.”

“Mm-hmm.” You open the book, silently hoping he doesn’t ask any more questions about Jason. The two of you have never really talked about any of your past partners. It’s a sore subject for Sam, so you’ve respected the territory, even though you’ve come dangerously close on a few occasions. You usually don’t mind, considering you’d have to lie if he asked if you were interested in dating, and he can always tell if you’re lying.

“You said he almost got you killed,” Sam says, his voice a little softer. His fingers stall over his laptop keyboard, and the screen goes black.

You look up from the book and he’s watching you carefully, gauging your reaction. He knows how hard it can be to discuss the past, and you’re in public. It’s not exactly the safest place for a hunter heart-to-heart. These kinds of conversations are best held in the bunker, or late at night in a motel room.

After a second, you nod. “Yeah. He… He used me as bait, and I didn’t know that was the plan. And then, while he was waiting for them to approach me, he got drunk. He showed up much, much later than he should have.”

You have to look away and swallow the lump in your throat. Under the table, Sam finds your hand and squeezes.

“I promise to never do that to you,” he tells you, with such conviction that tears spring up in your eyes.

You squeeze his hand in return, blinking quickly to clear your vision. “I know.”

“I will always keep you safe, Y/N. You know that, right?”

Nodding, you look up and take a steadying breath, then smile a little. Sam’s expression doesn’t change. He’s not smiling back at you. Instead, he’s staring at you with an unmatched ferocity, and your smile fades.

“I know,” you gently reply. “I’ve never doubted that.”

You and Sam stare at each other for a long few moments. The other patrons in the library continue to go about their business, and he holds your hand under the table until his phone chimes loudly and several people look over. Sam pulls away first, reaching for the phone. You turn back to the book, feeling like a rug’s been pulled out from underneath your feet.

What was that all about?

You and Sam have spent countless hours alone together, even going so far as to pose as a couple on a hunt, but it’s never felt like this before. He’s never been so adamant that you know he cares about you and your safety, and he’s never asked about your past love life. Sam’s a passionate guy, too, but you rarely see this side of him. His passion is normally directed toward hunts, or toward the academic subjects and topics he studies in his free time.

“Dean’s got a lead,” Sam relays, staring at the message on his phone. He texts back a response as you nod and begin to pack up. He puts his phone away and starts to help, and you finish cleaning up together, bumping elbows and hands as you stack the materials the way they’d come. Sam carries them back to the circulation desk before you can offer to help, leaving you to follow behind. You don’t mind.

As soon as the three of you are together again, Dean drives to the abandoned hotel and parks in an alley, far enough back from the street that you won’t be easily seen. You unload the guns and witch-killing bullets while they compare notes. You listen in silence as you load all three weapons. The whole thing sounds very straightforward.

“Ready?” Sam asks, and you nod, holding out his gun. He takes it and gives it a quick once-over before nodding his approval. Dean does the same.

You decide to head into the hotel through the old maintenance entrance. The two victims had been found just outside the door, and you quickly discover that it was the right choice. Dean taps on your shoulder only a minute after you enter the building, then points at a bookshelf half-full of spell ingredients. Jars of all shapes and sizes hold everything from small animal bones to a shimmering blue liquid that reminds you of the “potions” you would make using various soaps and shampoos as a kid. It’s one of the few memories you and Sam have in common from your childhoods, though you made yours at your house and his toiletries came from a long string of motels.

There’s another tap on your shoulder and you glance behind you at Sam, who gestures to your left with his gun. You turn down the hallway, following the sound of shuffling that you hadn’t heard before. It gets louder as you get closer, and then the person begins to chant. Her voice is deep and rich, and without realizing it, you’re lowering your gun. All you want to do is listen. The Latin is almost melodic.

“What are you doing?” Dean hisses. He pulls you away from an open doorway by the collar of your jacket. You stumble and blink at him.

“She okay?” Sam whispers.

“I have to…” You struggle to voice the burning desire inside of you, the little voice in your head telling you to find the witch. Deep down, you know that it’s dangerous and that you’re being affected by whatever spell she’s performing, but your hands move of their own accord, pushing the boys out of your way.

Stop! You have to fight this, you think, but it’s as if your conscience is behind a thick glass pane. Your own thoughts feel muffled and far away. They’re useless against the effects of the witch’s magic.

Sam reaches for you, and you dodge him as you duck into the next room of the hotel. It’s an old ballroom with high, vaulted ceilings. A dusty chandelier with cracked crystal pendants hangs precariously over the center of the patterned dance floor, and cobwebs are strung up in every corner. Broken tables and chairs are pushed against one wall, and boarded up windows separate you from the garbage-littered street outside. A balcony winds around two of the walls, with the staircase behind the witch. The banister is made of marble columns and a dark wooden handrail coated with a thin layer of dust. Lit candles litter the floor, and beneath the chandelier, the witch stands surrounded by metal bowls of ingredients and a sigil painted in white.

She reaches out a hand for you when you enter. You’re in a daze, and as your feet carry you closer to her, your gut churns. Something inside you is screaming—every hunter’s instinct you have is telling you to lift your gun and shoot, but you reach down and place your weapon on the dusty tile instead.

Chanting louder, the witch’s eyes begin to glow a vibrant red. An aura around her does the same, and your breath hitches at the sight.

This is wrong!

She smiles then, beckoning you with her fingers, and the sudden onset of nerves dissipates. You smile back, taking another step.

“Y/N!”

Dean’s voice makes you blink, and you flinch when a gunshot goes off behind you. It hits the banister behind the witch. Her volume increases again, reeling you back in as she pulls a thin, jagged knife from a sheath at her hip. Letters etched onto the blade glow red as well, and your eyes are drawn to it. Your mouth feels dry as you shuffle forward, entirely focused on the weapon in her hand.

“That’s it,” the witch coos, now finished with the incantation. “It’s alright, dear one.”

“Y/N, don’t!” Another shot rings out, but it sounds far away as you step closer. You’re almost to the edge of the sigil. Two more steps and you’ll be within her reach.

Someone grabs your arm, yanking you backwards. She screams a horrible scream, one that makes you shudder and cringe as an arm winds around your stomach, pulling you even further away. Your feet drag across the floor and you cling to the arm of whoever’s holding you. You’re torn between fighting them and letting yourself be rescued, but then the glow from the witch’s eyes fade. You gasp for air, feeling her hold on you relax.

“Dean,” you croak. You can’t see his face, but the feel of his jacket against your palms is familiar and comforting. Your throat feels raw, as if you’ve been screaming for hours. You go to say something, to warn him that her spell is almost finished, when the red light concentrates at her fingertips. “Dean!”

There’s a flash of red. You close your eyes, turning your head away as Dean pulls you harder against him and whirls around so his back is toward the witch. Over the witch’s shout, you hear Sam yell something, and then there’s a heavy thud.

“Sammy!” Dean releases you, cursing, and you fall to your hands and knees.

You yelp when you hit the floor. Your bones immediately ache from the impact, and you stay there for a minute. You know that you’ve messed up. Guilt blooms in the center of your chest and tears well up in your eyes. You feel weak and, for a second, violated. You should’ve been able to resist the witch’s magic.

Get it together, you silently order. You have to focus. You can feel bad after you kill her.

“Y/N!”

Looking over, you see Dean crouching beside his brother, who’s laid out on his side. Sam’s eyes are closed and your chest tightens.

“Sam!” you cry, and you scramble over to where he lays just outside the witch’s sigil.

Dean rolls him onto his back, and you kneel beside him, cradling his face in both hands as you search for any sign of life.

“Sam? Sam, wake up,” you plead.

“He’s still breathing,” Dean tells you. “She knocked him out with whatever that was.”

“Please, Sam. Please, open your eyes.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding, and you’re crying by the time he inhales sharply through his nose and blinks his eyes open. They immediately focus on you.

“Thank God,” you sob, and you throw yourself on top of him, hugging him tightly. Sam’s hand comes up to pat at your back.

“You okay?” Dean asks.

Sam grunts and winces as you pull back to look at him. “I think so,” he says after a second. “Did you get her?”

You shake your head and take a shaky breath, wiping at your cheeks and eyes. You sniffle for good measure, then say, “She got away, but she hit you with something. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

He shakes his head back at you, then closes his eyes. “It’s not your fault. She was more powerful than we thought,” he tells you. With his eyes still closed, he feels for your hand. He squeezes it when he finds it, and you squeeze back, just like you had in the library.

“You sure you’re okay?” Dean asks. “You hit the floor pretty hard.”

“Just give me a minute.”

After several minutes, Sam slowly sits up. You and Dean help him to his feet, and then the three of you make your way back through the hotel to the car. Sam seems mostly himself on the drive back to the motel, but you’re on edge. You watch him carefully, cataloging anything that’s even slightly out of character.

“We’ll have to keep you awake tonight, make sure you don’t have a concussion,” Dean says as he sheds his jacket. He throws it over the back of one of the dining chairs.

“I definitely have a headache,” Sam replies. He moves slowly and stiffly, and you don’t blame him. You’ve been thrown to the floor dozens of times. It never hurts any less.

“I’ll take first shift,” you tell Dean. “Clean up and get some rest.”

He nods and heads into the bathroom while you help Sam get settled on the bed. You take his jacket from him, carefully noting how he winces when he moves his right shoulder, and drape it over the second chair.

“It’s a good thing we’re friends,” Sam says. He takes off his socks and shoes, then positions the pillows behind him so he can sit up against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“Huh?” Your heart skips a beat. What’s he talking about?

“It would really suck staying up with me,” he clarifies. “If we weren’t friends, that is.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You smile a little before plugging in your phone. “You want some water?”

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

You freeze, fiddling with the lid of the ice bucket. You’ve got your back to him, so he can’t see the way you close your eyes, but he’s caught on to your lingering guilt much sooner than you hoped he would. You were hoping that Dean would at least be asleep before you had to have this conversation.

“I’m fine,” you answer. You grab the bucket and turn, giving him a forced smile. “Just tired. I’m gonna go get some ice.”

Sam swings his legs back over the side of the bed. He tries to hide his wince, but you catch it. You always do.

“I’ll come with you,” he says.

“You already took your shoes off.”

“What’s a little tetanus between friends?” He smiles at you and stands. You step closer, ready to steady him if needed. He’s fine, however, and he takes the ice bucket from you before gesturing toward the door.

Unable to argue, you lead him outside. The two of you walk in silence until you hear the door click shut. You’re already several rooms down, but the motel is larger than most, and the only working ice machine is in the tiny vending machine room at the far end of the building.

“What happened back at the hotel?” Sam asks.

You know he won’t judge you, but you keep your gaze forward. You don’t want to see his expression.

When you haven’t replied after passing several rooms, he gently asks, “Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” you finally admit, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets. You’re glad you kept it on. There’s a receipt in one of the pockets and you crush it into a ball as you continue, “Whatever spell she was doing… It’s like it was directed at me. I didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late, but by then I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t control myself. I was just—”

You inhale sharply and stop walking, looking up at the dilapidated roof covering the motel walkway. You’re blinking away tears again, and you hate how weak you feel.

“It’s not your fault,” he says. He moves to stand in front of you, blocking the sun as it sets over the motel parking lot. “She was more powerful than we anticipated.”

Sniffling, you cross your arms over your chest and stare at one of the support columns off to the side. “I know.”

“You’re still you,” Sam says.

“What?”

“You’re still you,” he repeats. “No matter how her magic affected you, you’re still you. You’re not any less strong or smart or tough than you were before we went into that building.”

Tears truly well up at his words and you look up again, letting out a weak chuckle. “How is it that you know exactly what to say?” You wipe at your eyes and take a shaky breath to try and steady yourself.

When you finally meet his gaze, Sam answers, “Because I know you better than anyone else, and because I’ve been where you are. And you know what you told me the last time I was doubting myself because of all the crap I’ve been through?”

You sniffle and force a wobbly smile, remembering the late-night conversation you’d had months ago after he’d had a particularly awful nightmare. “That you’re still you,” you repeat. “And that we’ll always be friends, no matter what.”

Sam smiles back. After a second, he tilts his head to the side, toward the door to the vending machine room. You nod and start walking again, and he falls into step beside you. The silence that settles between you is comfortable again, and the knots in your stomach have loosened with his reassurance.

You get back to the room to find Dean already asleep, face-down on the bed. Sam climbs back into bed as well, and you fill up both your and his water bottles with ice water. He takes it with a silent, grateful smile. You slide under the covers beside him, intent on researching the witch on your laptop while he reads on his phone. You probably should yell at him for staring at a screen with a possible concussion, but you both know that he’s had so many that a few hours in front of a screen won’t kill him at this point.

Dean wakes up a few hours later and switches places with you. Though you know you should probably shower before you sleep, resting up is more important if you’re going to find the witch sooner rather than later.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Dean. Just tired.”

“Maybe you should hang tight for today, try and get some sleep while Y/N and I do a little more research.”

You blink your eyes open and immediately squint. Dean must have every light in the motel room on. You swear he does it to spite you, and you groan in protest.

“Good morning to you too,” he teases, stepping into your line of vision.

You throw a pillow at him, and Dean catches it with one hand, laughing. You grunt and push yourself up with one hand, using the other to rub at your eyes.

“How’d you sleep?” Sam asks.

Yawning, you start to answer, but you stop as soon as you see him. Sam looks awful. His skin is pale and drawn, and the bags under his eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen. He gives you a weak smile.

“We’re heading to the diner down the street for breakfast,” he says. “You wanna come with?”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Dean replies. He pulls on his jacket and digs the keys out of his pocket. “Except back to bed.”

You sit up a little more, frowning. “You sure you’re not sick?” you ask Sam. “I mean, I’ve seen you when you’re tired, but you look…”

“Like he’s been hit with a spell,” finishes Dean. “I’ve already told him that, but he says that the witch didn’t say anything when she hit him with that freaky red light.”

“I’m fine, Dean,” Sam says. He stands from the side of the bed, but he instantly starts to sway. You’re on your feet in a split-second, steadying him with a hand on his arm.

“Maybe you should stay here,” you quietly suggest. You glance over at Dean, who holds up his hands.

“I’ll be in the car,” Dean tells you, and you nod.

You and Sam stand in silence until Dean’s gone and the door shuts behind him. Then, you look at him with as stern a look as you can muster having just woken up.

“Be honest.”

“I’m tired.”

“Sam.”

He sighs.

“Sam.”

“I’m… exhausted. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this tired in my life, and I want to sleep, but I’m scared,” he admits.

Your eyebrows push together as you frown even harder, and you guide him to sit beside you on the edge of his bed. “Why are you scared?”

“The witch didn’t say anything when she hit me with whatever it was, but we also know that her magic was strong enough to affect you from several rooms away,” Sam says. “If she did something to me, we have no clues as to what it is.”

You hum a little, mulling over his words for a second before looking over at him. “What if I gave Rowena a call? Had her come check you over, see if there’s any kind of lingering effect we haven’t seen yet?”

Sam takes a deep breath, then exhales and shakes his head. “We already owe her.”

“It’s a price I’m willing to pay. You’re my best friend, Sam. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Because I wouldn’t know what to do without you. Those words go unspoken, but you hope he hears them regardless.

Nodding, Sam replies, “Okay. Okay. I’ll… I’ll give her a call.”

“No, I’ll do it. You should rest. I’ll keep an eye on you,” you assure him. “I’ll make sure you’re safe, Sam.”

He smiles just a little bit, though you can tell it’s only for your sake. “You always do.”

You get up to grab your phone from where you’d left it charging, and Sam slowly lays back on the bed. As you type out a text to Rowena, you try to remember if the witch really hadn’t said something, or if you’ve just forgotten it.

“I’m gonna text Dean and let him know to go ahead without me. Do you want him to get you anything?” you ask. He doesn’t reply. “Sam? Did you hear—”

Turning, you stop when you see Sam has his eyes closed. For a second, you worry that he’s dead, and you hold your breath as you wait to see his chest move. When it does, you exhale heavily.

He’s okay, you reassure yourself. He’s going to be just fine.

You shoot a quick text to Dean with your order, plus a few things that Sam might want, and Rowena replies as soon as you’re done. She’s nearby.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully. Sam sleeps for an hour or so at a time. Every time he wakes, he looks more tired than before, and the smaller-than-usual meals he eats don’t seem to help him at all. It’s hard to tell since he’s been in bed most of the day, but when he gets up around dinnertime, he looks thinner.

Dean’s pacing the length of the room by the time Rowena shows up at the door, and you’re in even worse condition. You’re pretty sure that if she’d shown up any later, he might actually have relented and taken Sam to a hospital. You caught a glimpse of his phone when he passed by and he had the directions already open on his maps app.

Rowena stands beside the bed and moves her hands over Sam’s chest. He’s awake now, and he stares straight up at the ceiling as she works. A soft glow emanates from her palms, but as you watch from a few feet away, it strengthens, turning from golden to crimson to a vibrant purple.

“Well?” Dean asks. He shifts in place by the small dining table. His fingers twitch and he makes a fist with one hand. “Is he alright?”

She drops her hands and turns to face the two of you. Sam sits back up against the headboard, and you glance over at him. His eyes are bloodshot, as if he hasn’t slept in days. You’ve seen him look like this before, but it’s never been this concerning. He’s never managed to look this ragged so quickly.

“It’s a siphoning curse,” she explains, adjusting the jacket she’s wearing over her black jumpsuit.

“Siphoning?” Dean questions. “Siphoning what?”

“Life.”

You suck in a breath. It’s cold against your teeth, and Sam meets your eyes. There’s recognition in them, and not in a good way. A lump forms in your throat as you turn back to Rowena.

“Life?” you ask her. “But… Then…”

“I’ll die,” Sam finishes.

You blink. Your eyes burn and you frantically shake your head, taking a deep breath. Inside your chest, your lungs stutter as you try to compose yourself.

“No,” Dean says, shaking his head. “No. There’s got to be a way.”

Rowena purses her lips a little. She clearly knows more, and you take a step forward, clenching both hands into fists.

“Tell us,” you demand. “Tell us!”

You don’t mean to scream—you really don’t—but it just comes out. Dean reaches for you, grabbing your arm and looking toward the door with wide eyes as he listens for a response from anyone nearby who might have heard. Rowena doesn’t react. Swallowing thickly, you look from her to Sam, who has his eyes downcast and his hands folded in his lap. If you didn’t know any better, you might think he was sleeping, but the way he grimaces as you yank your arm from Dean’s tells you that he’s awake and listening.

Your throat feels raw and you swallow again. “How long?” you croak.

“A week, at most,” Rowena adds. “It’s likely he will be unconscious for the last few days. It takes a lot of energy to stay awake, and his body will try to conserve as much as it can before it fully shuts down.”

Dean mutters a curse and shakes his head again. “No. There has to be a way. A counter-curse?”

Rowena shakes her head, and this time, her expression is almost apologetic. “I’m afraid not. Whoever cast this spell is very powerful, and it would take extremely powerful magic to reverse the curse.”

You look from her, to Sam, to Dean, and then finally back at her. Rowena is the most powerful witch you know.

“Can you reverse it?”

“I’m sorry, dear,” she replies, meeting your gaze. Her lips press together in a sad smile. It’s the first show of genuine emotion you’ve seen from her, and it’s not enough. “But this is beyond even me.”

“And if we killed her?” Dean asks.

“It won’t have an effect. You still need the magic to reverse it. Not even the caster herself can reverse this particular curse once it’s taken hold.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

“Go home,” Sam finally says. It’s so quiet that you almost miss it in your hurry to ask about recruiting another witch to help you, but you stop with your mouth open. Sam opens his eyes and sighs softly. “We go home.”

“Bullshit. I’m not taking you home just so you can die!”

“Dean. Enough. You heard what she said.”

Rowena looks between Sam and Dean. After a moment, she says, “I need a moment alone with Samuel here.”

Immediately, Dean is on guard. He straightens up, standing tall as he stares her down with enough ire that you want to shirk back, and you’re not even on the receiving end of his glare.

“I might be able to give him some more time,” she gently adds. With more confidence than you think you could muster if you were in her shoes, she places a hand on Dean’s arm and takes one step forward, guiding him toward the door.

“One of us stays,” Dean answers, nodding his chin in your direction.

Rowena nods, agreeing, “Y/N is welcome to stay, but you have a habit of riling him up. Big brothers always have a way of doing that, in my experience.”

“I need to know what you’re doing before you do it. No funny business,” he adds.

She nods again and gestures with one hand to the door. “Let’s talk outside.”

You stand by the dresser, watching as she leads Dean out of the room. He exits with one last look over his shoulder at Sam, but Rowena pacifies his worries with words too quiet for you to hear. She gives you a strange look before she follows him out and closes the door behind them.

You stare at the door for a second, then at the window adjacent. The white horizontal blinds have gaps in them after years of use, and you’re able to see Dean, then Rowena, as they move to the side to talk. Eventually, they walk away, most likely to the Impala for spell ingredients. Sam’s been keeping a small travel case in the trunk for the past year or so, especially since you’ve been away from the bunker more and more often.

As you wait for them to return, your gaze drifts back to Sam. He’s watching you.

“What?” you ask after a second.

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” You wipe your cheeks with both hands, unsurprised that there are tears you hadn’t initially registered. “I probably look a mess right now.”

“Not any more than me, I’m sure,” he replies with a wry smile. You both fall silent for a minute before he continues, “You’re gonna be okay, you know.”

“What?” Your voice cracks. You hate it.

“Without me.”

You inhale through your nose and push your hair back, doing anything to keep your hands busy. “Don’t— Don’t talk like that. Rowena said she might be able to give you more time. We’ll find something, Sam. You’re not going to die.”

“I was going to die eventually. Everyone does.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?” he asks.

You look up at the ceiling, staring for a few seconds at the circular brown water stain that stretches several feet into the room. You’re lucky it hasn’t rained in Boston since you arrived, judging by the darkness of the stain. The dark brown is unchanging, but it’s not enough to steady yourself.

“I don’t want to live without you,” you finally say, your voice trembling.

Sam doesn’t answer, and when you look down at him, he’s wiping tears from his own face. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look truly upset since Rowena broke the news.

Maybe it’s just finally settling in, you think.

His chest shudders as he takes a breath and it’s enough to propel you forward, to move you to his side. You stand beside the bed, staring down at him until he reaches for your hand. He grabs it with more strength than he’s shown all day and you suck in a sharp breath, tears welling up in your eyes all over again.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sam,” you whimper, and you use your free hand to wipe them away, but he shakes his head. He pulls you down until you’re sitting on the opposite side of him. Your legs are draped over his and your feet dangle over the edge of the bed. You lean against his shoulder and start to cry in earnest, and Sam holds you. He doesn’t ask you to stop, and for that, you’re grateful.

Your cries have petered out by the time Rowena and Dean come back into the room. You can’t bear to make eye contact with them as they return, so you stare at where Sam is holding your hand atop your knees. Besides letting out the occasional sniffle, you simply listen as Rowena explains her plan to help extend Sam’s life. It’s a complex spell, one you’ve never heard of. She claims it will only add a few days, essentially putting off the point where he’ll become comatose, but it’s more hope than you had before. Sam asks questions about the ingredients and the text and the magic, which Rowena answers somewhat impatiently. Dean is strangely quiet.

“You’ll have to move for the spell, dear,” Rowena gently instructs.

Nodding, you clumsily pull your legs from Sam’s lap and move to roll off the other side of the mattress, but Sam grabs your hand before you get too far. You look back at him, confused.

“Stay,” he says. “Please.”

After a second, you nod again, then settle against the headboard beside him. Sam carefully lays down on his back. He rests one arm in the space between his body and the edge of the bed, but he takes your hand with the other. You rub your thumb over his as Rowena takes her place on the other side of him and begins to mix the spell in the small copper bowl they’ve retrieved from the Impala.

She chants, her eyes glowing purple, and Sam squeezes your hand with a grunt. His grip is almost bone-crushing and it takes everything in you not to yelp.

Stay strong, you urge yourself. He can’t help it.

The glow of Rowena’s eyes grows so bright it’s blinding. You look away, closing your eyes and gritting your teeth as Sam squeezes your hand even tighter, but then suddenly, he releases you.

You open your eyes and look over to see him passed out beside you. The purple light is fading and your heart leaps into your chest.

“Sam?”

“Sam!” Dean cries. He pushes Rowena backwards onto the other bed and pulls his gun on her. “What the hell did you do to him?”

She holds up her hands in defense as you shake Sam by the shoulder, then pat his cheek. “Your precious brother will be fine,” she soothes, a small smile on her face. “The spell takes some time to activate, like I told you. He’ll look better when he’s awake again.”

“And we’re supposed to believe you? Just like that?” Dean gestures a little with the gun, but it stays pointed in her direction.

Rowena scoffs. “Don’t forget that you came to me, Dean Winchester. You already owe me for the spell.”

You’re gentle as you check to make sure Sam’s still breathing. He is and you sit back on your feet.

“She’s right,” you say. “He’s still breathing.”

Raising an eyebrow, Rowena stares Dean down until he lowers the gun. She gives him a satisfied smile when he reluctantly tucks it back into his waistband, then stands and dusts off her hands.

“Now,” she sighs, smoothing the wrinkles in her jumpsuit from where Dean had shoved her. “I believe some payment is in order.”

Dean turns around to look at you. For a second, you stare at each other, and you have the brief thought that he might do something stupid, or crazy, or both, but then he grits his teeth and his jaw clenches. That’s when you know that he’s fighting the urge to pull his gun back out. The only reason he hasn’t is because Sam’s life is already on the line. One bad choice could lead to Rowena casting another curse on him.

“Go,” you quietly urge. “I’ve got him.” You nod in encouragement, and Dean returns it with one terse nod of his own.

You carefully move Sam’s hands to rest on his stomach, then sit beside him as Dean leads Rowena back out to the Impala. Whatever he’s giving her as recompense for the spell, it must be valuable, because he comes back in with clenched fists and muttering curses under his breath. He begins to pace the length of the room again. You don’t interrupt. Your chest aches and an empty feeling grows as you think of what life will be like if you can’t save Sam. Dean’s jaw is still clenched, and you know he’s doing the same.

“We—” He stops by the door to the bathroom, lifting a hand, but he drops it back down by his side. “Y/N, we have to find something.” His voice breaks and a lump forms in your throat, just as tears form in Dean’s eyes.

You nod. “I know.”

“We’ll— I’ll give Jody a call, and Garth. Maybe they’ll know of another witch that can help us.”

You look down at Sam and inhale shakily. With one hand, you adjust the sleeve of Sam’s t-shirt.

“I’m gonna take him home,” you tell Dean, not looking up.

“What?”

“He said he wanted to go home. I’m gonna take him home.”

“Like hell you are!”

Finally, you look up and meet Dean’s eyes. You have to take a second to breathe when you see him. You’ve been with Dean Winchester for plenty of hunts, but he’s never looked this afraid. He’s a man that laughs in the face of danger, not one whose hands tremble when he thinks about his brother dying.

“We have to try, Y/N,” Dean says, and he’s staring at you with eyes so wild that you find yourself gripping the motel sheets crumpled beside you. “I can’t just let him die. Not like this.”

You have no response. Dean will just argue if you try to reason with him, but you know that Sam isn’t one to prolong the inevitable. It doesn’t matter how terrified of a future without him you are. If he’s made his peace with it, then you need to consider doing the same.

Even if it kills me too, you think.

“Okay,” you murmur. “Okay.”

Dean swallows thickly, then nods once. “I’ll start calling. See what I can find.” He’s just looking for a reason to leave the room so you can’t see past his hardened exterior, and you both know it, but you don’t argue.

You stare at the edge of the bed, just behind where he’d been standing, as he starts to leave. He’s made it to the door when you lift your head and look over at him.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Someone needs to be in the bunker. It’s better if he goes with me than with you.” Before he can argue, you continue, “What if you need to check something against one of the books? Or if you need an ingredient we don’t keep in the car? What’s your plan then? Sam knows both the library and the storage rooms better than both of us combined, and he’ll be able to rest when he needs it. Plus, if I need to, I can try and recreate the spell Rowena cast to give him extra time.”

Dean is quiet for a minute, but you see him nod through the gaps in the metal floral divider that separates the door from the rest of the room.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Then you two should get going. The sooner you’re there, the better.”

You’d driven together in the Impala, but it doesn’t take long for Dean to hotwire a car from the farthest row of the motel parking lot. The backseat is, mercifully, big enough for Sam to lay down without being at too strange an angle. You and Dean drag him from the room to the car together. You’re lucky that it’s getting dark and no one is out to watch the ordeal.

Dean loads your backpack and Sam’s duffel into the trunk. Then, he sends you off with a simple, “Drive safe,” and a hug. He holds you a little longer than normal, but you’re not opposed. It’s nice to know that you’re not alone in this.

The drive is uneventful. Sam sleeps for most of the night. He only wakes up a few times during the day for food and bathroom stops, and though he looks better since Rowena’s spell, he’s lost muscle mass and he still looks exhausted. You have to support him on the walk across the street to the motel the following night, but he falls asleep again almost as soon as he’s in bed. His sleep seems to be dreamless, and for that, you’re thankful.

You, on the other hand, don’t sleep much. You probably should, considering you haven’t slept in 24 hours, but your brain won’t turn off. You spend most of that night awake, listening to Sam breathe, texting Dean about his progress, and doing what research you can online. At some point you actually do fall asleep, and you wake to the sound of Sam stumbling across the room to the bathroom.

He’s getting weaker, you think, and you lay on your back, listening to the sound of the toilet flushing and the sink running as you stare up at the ceiling. You’ve cried so much over the past few days that the thought of crying now is exhausting. You just don’t have the energy.

It’s not a strange occurrence for you to lay in bed and listen to the boys move around a motel room. There have been plenty of mornings that Dean has gone out for food while Sam showers after his run, leaving you to soak up a few more minutes of sleep under the covers. Now, you can’t help but feel a little nostalgic for all those mornings. You don’t have many more with Sam, and Dean can be unpredictable when he’s grieving. You’re not sure if he’ll go off on his own or if you’ll be able to stick together.

When the door creaks open, you turn on your side and meet Sam’s eyes. His face, which you’ve come to associate with bright mornings just as much as the sun itself, is gaunt. It’s a harsh reminder that you’re losing him bit by bit. His cheeks and eyes have begun to sink in as well, as if his body is collapsing inwards, like a black hole. The effects of Rowena’s spell seem to have been short-lived.

“Good morning.” He’s leaning against the open door frame of the bathroom, and he’s managed to pull on a pair of clean pajama pants and a t-shirt.

You try not to let your bad mood show. “Morning. How’re you feeling?” you ask.

Sam shrugs a little and his gaze wanders to the digital clock on the nightstand. You have no idea what time it is or how much you’ve slept. You’re lucky that your phone was plugged in when you finally fell asleep.

“Same as yesterday. Maybe a little bit more tired. Where are we?” asks Sam.

Sitting up, you yawn and stretch your arms above your head, then roll your shoulders and neck to try and release some tension.

“Ohio,” you tell him. You roll over to grab your phone and check the time—it’s after eight, and you’ve missed half a dozen texts from Dean. None of them are useful. “We’ve only got one more day of driving if I can go straight through. It’s about twelve hours.”

“We can take shifts.”

You look over your shoulder and fix him with a look, raising your eyebrows. He doesn’t react and you stand, then toss your phone onto the bed as you pull your socks back on your feet.

“I’m not letting you drive, Sam.”

“I can do it. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not risking it,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t risk it.”

“You can’t? Or you won’t?”

You falter as you rummage through your backpack for your last set of clean clothes. Sam is staring at you from the bathroom doorway, you can feel it, but you don’t look up at him. After a second, you slowly go back to searching.

“Does it matter?” you finally ask.

He shuffles toward you and grabs your wrist, stopping you. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t move. Reluctantly, you look up and meet his eyes. They’re just as resigned as yesterday, and though it makes your chest ache, you can’t look away.

“If I only have a week—”

“You don’t know that, Rowena cast that spell—”

“—then I want to spend it with you,” Sam finishes, and you peter out, not even bothering to finish your claim that Dean will be able to find something to save him. You know it’s not worth it, not if Sam’s made up his mind.

He continues, “I want to spend it doing all the things I love doing with you. You’re my best friend, Y/N.”

You close your eyes and turn away, hoping he doesn’t see the tear that slips out and runs down your cheek. You hate this. You’ve never felt this helpless before, not even when you’d been held captive for a week. In that situation, you’d known that the boys would find you and save you. You have no way of helping Sam out of this.

“I want…” Sam trails off, and he tugs on your wrist to pull you into a hug. You wrap your arms tightly around him and press the side of your face against him, keeping your eyes closed.

I wish it was me, you think. I wish it was me instead of him.

“What are you thinking?” Sam whispers. His breath ruffles the hair on the top of your head.

“This is all my fault,” you reply. You can’t tell him what you’re really thinking without him lecturing you, so you pick the next best option. It’s really not that much better, if you’re being honest.

“Don’t say that,” he says. He squeezes you once. “This isn’t your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault.”

“Sam—”

“No, I love you, and I’m not going to let you beat yourself up over this. It’s not your fault, Y/N. Okay?”

You nod. “Okay,” you quietly answer. It hurts to hear that Sam loves you. You know that he does—he’s your best friend, of course he loves you—but it hurts to know that he’ll never love you the way that you love him. He doesn’t have time to love you that way.

“I love you too,” you say after a moment. “I don’t…”

I have to tell him, you think. You start to pull away. Sam drops his arms, and he sits down as soon as he’s not touching you. The way he lowers himself to the edge of the mattress reminds you of some of the people you’ve seen in nursing homes while interviewing family members.

I can’t do this. He’ll just feel guilty.

“You don’t what?” Sam asks, and you look away.

“Never mind. I should get dressed,” you tell him. You turn back to the backpack and grab the clothes, then start heading to the bathroom with your clothes crumpled against your stomach.

Sam reaches out with one hand and grabs your arm. “Talk to me.”

“Sam…”

“Please. I don’t want you to hide things from me because you think it’ll make me feel even worse. Trust me”—he lets out a wry laugh—“dying is the least of my worries right now.”

You freeze halfway to the bathroom, dropping your arms down to your side with your clothes clutched in one hand. After a second, you turn to face Sam, and you toss your clean clothes onto the bed behind him.

“That really doesn’t make this situation better,” you scoff. “I mean, come on, Sam! I’m about to lose the love of my life and he says that he’s not even worried about it? How’s that supposed to make me feel? Am I just supposed to be all, ‘Oh, okay! Let me tell you all about how I’ve had a massive crush on you—”

You stop talking the second you realize what you’re saying, which is much too late, and you snap your mouth shut. Sam stares at you with wide eyes and you stare back. Your heart is in your throat and when you finally feel embarrassed tears burning along your waterline, you turn around, clenching your hands into fists.

Of all times for me to say that, you think, and you wish you could hide in the bathroom for the rest of the day.

“I’m gonna shower,” you manage to say. You take a step, then another, until finally, you’re locking the bathroom door behind yourself.

Bracing your hands on the counter, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. Your heart is pounding inside your chest as your brain helpfully provides you with every possible outcome of the situation. None of them seem good. It should feel good to reveal the secret you’ve been holding so closely for years, but instead it’s only made you feel worse. On top of everything that Sam’s feeling and going through, he now has to deal with the news that you’re the biggest idiot on the planet. What kind of sappy Hallmark movie do you think you’re in? A hunter’s life doesn’t allow for love, let alone for a relationship with your hunting partner-slash-best friend.

A knock at the door startles you, and you quickly straighten up from the sink.

“Yeah?” Your voice is shakier than you’d like. You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Can I come in?” Sam asks. He jiggles the doorknob.

“Um..” Your voice trembles again and you inhale deeply through your nose as you open your eyes and look around. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror; your eyes are bloodshot and your hair is a rat’s nest. The neckline of the old t-shirt you’ve been wearing since yesterday morning is stretched out and gaping, revealing a fading scar from a werewolf three weeks ago.

“You can say no,” Sam adds. “I can wait out here for you.”

Reaching out with one hand, you twist the doorknob and open the door. Sam has one hand against the door frame to help keep himself upright. Somehow he looks even worse than when you’d been by the bed just a minute before.

It’s probably just the lighting. He can’t be dying that quickly, right?

He doesn’t speak right away, so you step back into the bathroom and pull back the shower curtain, getting ready to start your shower.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I reacted to that poorly.”

“I didn’t mean to say all that,” you quietly admit, stopping just past the end of the counter. You don’t dare look up at him right now. Instead, you look down at a yellowed stain on the edge, feeling heat rise in your cheeks. “It’s not fair of me to tell you and then run away, especially since it’s too late.”

He leans forward, slowly entering the bathroom so you have time to back away. You don’t.

“Who says it’s too late? I know it’s not ideal, but I did say that I wanted to spend my time with you.”

You shake your head, pressing your lips together as the new wave tears that have been forming finally escape. With one hand, you wipe them away and press your lips together. Sam pulls you into another hug.

“This is my worst nightmare,” you tell him. “I didn’t even know it was, but it is.”

“What? Spending time with me?”

A half-hearted laugh escapes you, and you blink your eyes a few times to try and clear the blurriness. “Don’t make me laugh.”

Sam kisses the top of your head and squeezes you once before dropping his arms so you can step away. Before you get too far, however, he reaches out to stop you.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he says, and you look back at him.

The bathroom is tiny. It’s barely big enough for a sink, toilet, and bathtub-shower combo, but it feels miniscule once Sam steps inside. He’s taking up the space between the wall and the sink, leaving you to stand with your back to the shower and both the toilet and the wall within fingertip distance.

“Finish what?” you ask. Your heart skips a beat and your mind begins to jump to conclusions. What could Sam possibly have to finish that involves you? He’s not about to confess his undying love for you, right? That would be too cheesy, and too predictable for a hunter’s life. You don’t deserve that kind of happy ending.

Then again, it’s not so happy if he dies right after. You push that thought away immediately and try to focus solely on Sam.

He takes both of your hands in his, and though he sways a little, he stays upright. You try not to think about how his grip seems less firm than it has in the past.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I know,” you reply. “I love you too. And it’s okay if you don’t love me the same way. You don’t have to pretend to try and make me feel better. I’m not offended.”

Sam shakes his head and lifts your hands a little. “I love you, Y/N. I—” He stops to cough, a deep, bone-shaking, chest-rattling cough that forces him to lean against the wall on his left. He has to drop your hands to steady himself and cover his mouth, but you step closer and place one on his shoulder, hoping it’s enough to let him know that you’re there. When he drops his hand from his mouth, there’s blood on the side of his fist. Without a word, you tear off a piece of toilet paper so he can wipe it away.

“I’ve always loved you,” Sam manages after a few moments. He wheezes a little, and clears his throat to try and get rid of the raspiness left by his coughing fit.

“What?”

“I’ve—”

You quickly shake your head. “No, I heard you. I just don’t understand.”

He frowns at you, and you glance away, hating that you’re making this difficult for him. He’s balled up the bloody scrap of toilet paper in one hand, but he pushes himself off the wall and drops it into the trash can next to the sink. Without the support, Sam wobbles, and you reach out to catch him before he can fall forwards.

“You should sit,” you urge, and he shakes his head again.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Sam. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I’m not going to fall over. There’s no place to fall in here.”

“You could hit your head on the edge of the counter, or you could knock me over and we could both fall into the bathtub,” you argue. “You could land face-first on the toilet which sounds like a horrible way to be knocked unconscious. You could fall backwards and I wouldn’t have the chance to catch—”

You’re cut off when Sam slides one hand up to cup your jaw back with one hand, then tilt your head back to kiss you. He moves quicker than you’ve seen him move in since the curse, and you’re so shocked that it takes you a second to process what’s happening.

Sam Winchester is kissing me, you think, and you let your eyes fall closed when his fingers shift, weaving into your hair as he crowds infinitesimally closer to you.

When he finally parts, pulling away just enough to catch his breath, you stay close, too. You can feel his chest heave a little as he breathes, and though it pains you to think that every time you kiss him from now on will be more and more difficult for him, you push those thoughts away. You want to savor this. You need to savor this.

“Sam,” you whisper, and he hums, then kisses you again. It’s shorter this time, and your hands migrate to fist in the loose fabric of the t-shirt at his sides.

“You kissed me,” you say the next time he pauses to breathe. He hums again and gives you another kiss.

“Sam,” you insist, and he gives an impatient sigh. His hand moves to rest on your upper arm. The side of your face feels suddenly cooler in his absence.

Sam opens his eyes to look at you, and you pause for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. You’ve always loved the way Sam looks—you’d be crazy not to—but it’s the first time you’ve felt it’s okay to unabashedly take in the brilliance of his eyes. Sam is beautiful, but he’s also intelligent, funny, caring, strong, and brave. You can see all of that just by looking at him. Maybe it’s a testament to how well you know him, or maybe he’s just that beautiful.

Both, you think. The thought makes you grin, and you duck your head to try and hide it. It’s definitely both.

“What?” Sam asks, impatience clear, though he’s not angry. “What’s so important that I had to stop kissing you?”

“You kissed me!”

“I know,” he answers. He leans into your space a little more. “I’d like to do it again.”

There’s heat in your cheeks now. It’s hard to tell if it’s from how he’s making you feel or if it’s from his proximity, but you’re not complaining about either of those things.

“Why?”

He gives you a look, one that asks if you’re serious, but you don’t rescind the question. Finally, Sam drops his hand from your arm to your hand, and he fiddles with your fingers as he answers,

“Because I love you, Y/N. I’m not sure how much clearer I can be.”

You gape at him. “So when you said that you’ve always loved me…”

“I meant it.”

Your brain is whirling as you process the new information, and Sam moves to sit on the edge of the counter. He still has your hand, so he pulls you with him. You let him lead you the few steps without a fight.

“So you…” You lick your lips, and you swear that he zeroes in on the movement because his eyes seem to grow darker despite the bright white light from the fixture in the ceiling. “You like-like me?”

Sam’s eyes lift from your lips to meet your gaze. He stares at you a second, then grins wide and lets out a loud laugh. It’s almost a guffaw, and it makes the heat flare up in your cheeks all over again. You feel silly, like you’re a teenager all over again, just waiting for the cute boy in class to make you swoon.

“Like-like you?” he asks. “Definitely.”

He pulls you close again, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. His legs bracket you on either side. You close your eyes and revel in his warmth and the scent of laundry detergent and the motel shampoo that somehow always smells better on him than it does you. It’s something you’ve come to associate with him, oddly enough, but you’re grateful. Motel shampoo is a constant in your life and it will always be there, even if he’s not.

Sam sways a little bit, leaning a bit more on you, and you open your eyes, moving your head back slightly so you can look at him. His head has lolled to the side and his mouth is parted slightly. His eyes are closed, but his eyelashes flutter as if he’s just asleep.

“Sam?” you ask. He doesn’t respond, and panic replaces the giddiness you’d felt only moments before. “Sam? Hey, wake up for me. Open your eyes.”

You unwind one arm from around him, pulling it towards your stomach and out from under his arm that’s still around you. You pat his cheek a little and look for any reaction, but there isn’t any.

Cursing, you try to maneuver him off the counter to the floor. It takes all your strength to keep him from collapsing or hitting anything on the way down. By the time you get him stretched out on the grimy tile and the towel that you pull from the bar on the wall to cushion his head, you’re sweating.

“Please wake up,” you plead, kneeling on his left, near shoulder. His breathing is steady, but he’s just as comatose as he was before.

After a few moments, you launch yourself up and out of the bathroom. Your phone is still plugged in on the nightstand, so you grab it and frantically dial Dean’s number as you hurry back to the bathroom. Sam’s still out when you get back, and you crouch between him and the wall as you listen to the line ring over and over again. Finally, Dean answers.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Something happened, we were just—” You stop for a second, wondering if you should admit what you’d been doing, but Dean beats you to it.

“You were what, Y/N? What happened?” He’s shouting into the phone as he drives and you swallow thickly as tears burn in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did,” you choke out. “This is all my fault.”

“What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing! I mean, I kissed him! He kissed me first, and it seemed like he was alright, but then we were just talking and he gave me a hug and then he just passed out!”

Dean curses and you flinch at the volume, pulling the phone a few inches away from your ear. You’re on the verge of actually sobbing now, and you suck in a deep breath to try and stabilize yourself. Any sense of calm you’d felt less than a few minutes ago has completely vanished.

“He’s still breathing normally and I made sure he didn’t bump his head or anything—”

“You’re supposed to be taking care of him!” Dean shouts. “Where are you?”

“Ohio. At the Starlight Motel, off of I-71. We passed it on the way out to Boston.”

“I remember. I’m on my way.”

You can hear a turn signal on his end of the call and you set your phone on the floor, putting it on speaker. Judging by the noise in the background, he’s pulling off the road to turn around and head in your direction. After swallowing a few times, the lump in your throat begins to subside and you feel yourself starting to calm.

“How far away are you?” you ask, trying to focus on the steady sound of Sam’s breathing while at the same time listening for his response.

Dean answers, but you don’t hear it because Sam suddenly gasps for air. His eyes fly open as his chest heaves, and he coughs like he’s been suffocated. You shift onto your knees, lean forward, and quickly help him roll onto his side. He pushes you away with one hand as he props himself up with an elbow and continues to cough. You’re flustered and panicked, and your hands hover over his arm as you try to figure out how to help him further.

“Easy,” you soothe, and he takes another deep breath, followed by a few lighter coughs. There’s no blood this time, which is a welcome relief.

“I’m okay,” he wheezes.

Still propped up on his left side, Sam closes his eyes. He breathes in and out slowly, steadying himself. After several seconds, the hand not bracing himself against the floor searches until it finds yours. He squeezes it once and you squeeze back, watching him intently.

“How are you feeling? Are you in pain?” you question.

He rolls backwards until he’s flat on his back again, but he keeps hold of your hand, resting it on his stomach. He breathes for another few moments before opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

“Sam?”

“Y/N! Damnit, what’s going on over there?” Dean is shouting from the phone, and you realize that you’ve forgotten all about it. With your free hand, you scramble to grab it and pull it to your ear, taking the call off speaker with a singular jab of your thumb.

“He’s awake,” you tell him, feeling pretty breathless yourself. Your heart is still racing from the scare of Sam lurching into consciousness. “He’s okay. He’s alright.”

“He’s— He’s okay okay, or just okay?” Dean asks.

You look back at Sam, who lets go of your hand and pushes himself up into a sitting position. When he sees you watching him, he reaches for the phone.

“Hey, Dean,” he says, and he listens for a second before answering, “I’m fine. I think it’s gone.” He glances over at you while Dean replies, probably with more questions. “No, I’m not sure what it was, but I feel fine. Y/N and I will try to figure out what it was, and I’ll give Rowena a call, see if she can meet us here. How far away are you?”

“Tell him I’ll text him the address,” you interject, and Sam nods, relaying the message. He listens for a few moments longer, glances at you again, and then tilts his head away to try and hide his smile.

“Jerk,” he says. He smiles wider at Dean’s response. You don’t have to hear it to know what he says.

Sam hangs up a second later and hands the phone back to you. Without saying anything, you text the address to Dean, then slip the phone back into your pocket.

“Are you really feeling okay?” you ask.

He nods. “I think the curse, whatever it was, is gone. I don’t feel tired, and I’m not even stiff from laying down all day yesterday. Do I look any better?”

You search his face, looking for any sign of fatigue. The color has returned to his face, and the strange thinness that had made your stomach turn this morning is gone. He looks like he did just a few days ago when you’d made up in the library. Even his muscle mass has miraculously returned.

“You look a lot better,” you tell him, beginning to smile. “Like nothing even happened.”

Sam smiles back at you, as radiant as the sun, and you find yourself falling into his arms. He wraps them around you, but after a second he pulls away to look you in the eyes.

“I love you,” he says. “I know I said it before, but I mean it.”

Still smiling, you push his hair out of his eyes, cupping his face with one hand. “I know. I love you too.”

He kisses you then, like he did before, and your heart swells. You sit back on your feet as Sam leans into you. He smiles into the kiss when your free hand skims the length of his arm.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” you murmur once you’ve caught your breath. “Okay?”

He nods, his forehead resting against yours. “Okay.”

You close your eyes, reveling in the feeling of him being so close. The two of you sit in silence on the bathroom floor. All the events of the past few days have worn you out, even with the few hours of sleep you got, and you eventually shift to rest your head against Sam’s shoulder. He reaches over with his right hand, rubbing your back in long, soothing strokes. You hold his other hand, the one he’d been using to prop himself up.

The silence is broken by your phone ringing after a few minutes. Sighing, you pull away and answer the call on speakerphone, setting it on the floor.

“I hear that Samuel’s on the mend,” Rowena says in lieu of greeting.

“I’m cured,” Sam answers. “Or at least we think I am.”

She hums in acknowledgement. “I’ll need more detail than that if you want me to tell you for sure. I may be powerful, but I’m not a mind reader.”

You roll your eyes at the haughtiness in her voice and reply, “He was unconscious for at least two minutes, but there was nothing leading up to it. He just passed out.”

“Did you eat or drink anything? Say any spells? Pray any prayers?”

Sam stares at the phone, his eyebrows furrowed together. “No. We were just talking and then—” He stops.

“And then you what?” Rowena prompts.

Sam’s eyes flicker from the screen to your face, and then he lets out a quiet chuckle. He’s smiling again, and you smile back. It’s contagious, despite the fact that you have no idea why he’s smiling.

“We kissed,” Sam tells her, not looking away.

“I see.” Her arrogance has all but disappeared, and you know her just well enough to picture the sly smile forming on her face. “When it’s reciprocated by both, true love’s kiss is a very powerful form of magic. It’s one of the most powerful forms of magic. Wield it wisely, you two.”

You grin. “We will.”

She ends the call and you leave the phone on the floor, opting instead to lean in and kiss Sam again.

“We definitely will,” he says.

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justwhisperingfantasies · 7 months ago

Text

I Can't Let You Go Prt 2

Characters: Sam Winchester x Female Reader, Dean Winchester, Castiel. Bobby Singer. Crowley. Death. Lucifer. Adam. Michael. Mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Angst, Hurt Dean, Sam, Reader, Bobby, and Cas. Guns, Cannon violence. Cannon with a twist. Let me know if I forgot any.

Summary: You have known Sam Winchester most of your life. He was your best friend and you were completely in love with him. The day after he decides to take on Lucifer and put him back in the cage is the day he finally makes himself tell you how he truly feels about you.

Word count: 6,364 words

A/N: I know it's been a while, I had a hard time writing this because I knew where it was headed. Sorry for the wait. Hope ya'll enjoy it. 💗

Part 1 ><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><

You woke in the familiar room alone. You looked around and saw your duffle in the corner. Sam must have brought it up for you. You walked over and opened it. You found a clean pair of jeans and a gray V-neck shirt. Eh, that will work you thought.

“Rise and shine,” Sam said as he walked in the door holding a cup of coffee.

“Mmmm Thank you,” you said then sipped. “Oh, Dean coffee.”

He chuckled as he sat down on the bed. “Actually I made Dean show me how to make the “world’s best coffee”. He playfully mocked you.

You squinted your eyes at him” Watch it, Winchester.”

You closed the door and started changing. Sam let out a whistle and you rolled your eyes. He waited until you got dressed then grabbed you pulling you down to straddle him. You twisted your fingers in his hair as you kissed his lips. His arms wrapped tightly around you as he laid his head on your shoulder. Your arms hugged around his neck.

“So what's on the agenda for today?”

“Well, Dean and Crowley are going to confront death and the rest of us will stop this pharm company.” He explained the virus outbreak and the vaccines.

“And we trust Crowley now?!”

“I don’t think we have a choice. Plus he seems to want Lucifer back in the cage as much as we do.”

. “I guess. So when are we leaving?”

“Tonight.”

“Alright. We should get everything ready.”

“Yeah probably.” he agreed but neither of you let go.

“Sam.”

“Yeah, Yeah,” he sighed as he squeezed you and then loosened his arms. You stood up and bent back down giving him a quick kiss making him smile.

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As you tossed the last bag in your truck Dean shut the Impala trunk. “Alright, well good luck stopping the zombie apocalypse,” he said

“Yeah, Good luck killing death,” Sam replied. You could see the worry in their eyes. Sam chuckled. “Do you remember when we used to just hunt Wendigos? Back when everything was simple?”

“Ha. Not really.” Dean smiled.

“Yeah, well you might need this,” Sam said holding out the demon blade to Dean.

“Actually, Dean is covered,” Crowley said popping out of thin air. Holding out a scythe to Dean. “Deaths own, known to kill demons, angels, reapers, and rumored to kill the very thing itself.

“Where did you get that?” Cas asked

“I'm the king of the crossroads. Remember?” Crowley smiled. “Bobby you just going to sit there?”

“No, I’m gonna river dance?!” Bobby sneered.

“Oh, Bobby. You really wasted that deal. ” everyone looked at Crowley confused. “You get more if you phrase it properly,” he explained how he added a tiny sub-a clause for Bobby. “So, just gonna sit there?”

Bobby moved his feet. Everyone looked at him in disbelief. Then he stands up. “ Son of a bitch!” he remarks. Everyone smiled at him.

“Yes, completely worth your soul. I know I’m a hell of a guy.” Crowley smiled.

“Thanks,” Bobby said truly meaning it.

“Yes, can we go?” Crowley asked walking to the passenger side of the Impala.

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As Bobby drove, Sam sat next to you explaining his plan to Cas.

“That's an interesting plan,” Castiel said after thinking about it for a second.

“That's a word for it.” Bobby scoffed.

“Not the one I would use.” You said. Sam put his hand on your thigh for comfort.

“Go ahead Cas. Tell me it's the worst plan you've ever heard,” he said playfully squeezing your leg.

“Well I could, but that’s not what I think,” Cas said.

“Really?!” you and Sam said at the same time.

“ You and Dean have exceeded my expectations time and time again, he resisted Michael maybe you could beat Lucifer,” Cas explained. “However since Adam said yes, if you say yes, then fail. The fight will happen, and the collateral will be immense.”

You felt Sam’s body stiffen beside you. You grabbed Sam’s hand and placed it in your lap lacing your fingers together.

“And then there’s the demon blood,” Cas said.

“Wait what are you talking about?!” You asked

“ To take on Lucifer, Sam would have to consume more than he ever has. It strengthens the vessel. Keeps it from exploding.” Cas explained.

“But the guy he's in now…” Sam started.

“Is drinking gallons.” Castiel cut him off.

“No fucking way!” you said.

“Yeah. How is this not the worst plan you've ever heard?” Bobby looked at Castiel.

Sam’s jaw tightened and you could see in his face how difficult this was for him. Taking his hand out of yours he placed his face in his palms. “Sam..”

“Let's just get this done and we can all argue when we get back to Bobby’s. Okay?” Sam cut you off in a harsh tone, you turned and looked out your window blinking back tears.

The rest of the ride was complete silence.

You guys finally reached Niveus Pharmaceuticals and staked out the place for a bit. 4 yellow semi trucks were being loaded on a truck dock. While observing Bobby went over the plan. “ they are loading the hot shots now. The first truck doesn't leave for an hour. We get in plant the c-4 then pull the fire alarm.”

“Um, that truck is leaving.” Castiel points.

“Balls! Ok, new plan.”

Cas runs to the escaping truck. As the driver tries to slide his key card to unlock the gate Castiel knocks him out causing his head to land on the horn. The demons on the dock all look up.

“It’s the Winchesters.” one of them said as he started pulling down and locking the doors.

“Well then let’s cook up something for them,” the other demon said ripping into a box of vaccines. You, Sam, and Bobby run to the dock doors, but you are too late.

“Side door!” Bobby yells. As you approach the side door you can hear people inside banging on the door and yelling for help.

“Get Back” you yell and you shoot the lock on the door. The people ran out frightened. The 3 of you walk in guns drawn. You hear grunting and some thumping. You and Sam look to Bobby. He slides the backpack of explosives off his shoulders and Sam does the same. Bobby signals you guys to follow him. You round a corner of shelves to find 6 humans infected with the Croatoan virus ripping a guy to shreds. 6 pairs of red eyes turn to you. You cock your cocks at the same time. You guys manage to take them all out before they reach you.

“HELP ME!!” a woman nearby screams.

“There's still people in here,” Sam says as he starts to walk in the direction of the screams.

“Sam wait,” you said

“Take this and stay here.” He says handing you the demon blade.

“Damnit,” you said as you took the blade. Sam continues into the warehouse aiming his shotgun.

Bobby turns to face you. “(y/n) behind you.”

You turn around and there’s a demon. You stab him in his side with the blade killing him.

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“Hey, do you think we can stop for pizza?” Crowley asked Dean as they walked up to an abandoned building.

“Are you kidding?!”

“Just heard it was good.” He pointed at the barn ahead. “He’s in there.”

“How do you know?”

“Have you met me? I know. Plus the block is squirming with reapers.” Crowley said as he looked around. “I’ll be right back.” and Crowley disappeared.

Two seconds later he reappeared. “Boy, is my face red. He's not in there.”

“You wana cut the bullshit and tell me where he is?” Dean snapped

“Sorry, I'm not sure. We can catch him in the next doomed city.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Bobby sold his soul for this?”

“Don't worry there’s a return policy.” Crowley ensured him.

“Millions crowley! Millions of people are going to die any minute now.” Dean yelled.

“Yeah, so I suggest we get out of here!” Crowley said as he walked away.

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Back at the pharm warehouse, you started to get anxious. You began to walk in the direction Sam went.

“(y/n) He will be fine. “

“Bobby,” you were cut off by the sounds of gunshots. You took off in his direction, but stopped when you saw Sam bringing victims around the corner,

“Help them,” Sam said to you. You drew your gun and escorted them to the door.

“All clear” Sam concluded.

You looked to the left and saw an infected worker charging for Sam. “Sam watch out!” but you were too late. You started running toward them. The worker jumped on Sam causing him to fall on his back. The worker was on top of Sam choking him full force. Bobby raised his gun, but it was empty. You slid and put the end of your sawed-off shotgun barrel on the worker's forehead and pulled the trigger. Blood went everywhere. Sam started gasping for air. You laid your arms and head down with a sigh.

“You good?” you asked Sam.

“Yeah, “ He got out once he caught his breath.

“Good, Can we commit our act of domestic terrorism now?” Bobby asked starting to walk toward the backpacks you laid down earlier.

Sam got up and put his hand out offering to help you up. You took it, and you were on your feet so fast it made your head spin a little. “Let's go,” he said.

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Dean made his way back to the Impala. Crowley was already sitting in the passenger seat. Dean got in the driver's seat. “So what?” he said with a groan. “ Bomb threats? How the hell do I get 3 million people out of Chicago in the next 10 minutes?” He looked over to Crowley for advice, but he was gone. Dean looked around. “Fuck!” Dean snapped then looked across the street. Crowley was pointing in a pizzeria mouthing “I found him”

“What? I can't hear you.” Dean said aloud and threw up his hands.

“I said I found him,” Crowley said as he popped back into the passenger seat making Dean jump. “ He is in there.” Crowley pointed again.

Dean got out. “You coming..” he said as he turned around, Crowley was gone again, “ I guess not.” He made his way over to the pizzeria. Cautiously and Quietly Dean walked through the front door. There was a waitress behind the bar sitting on the floor, dead. Two men sitting at a table both of their faces in a half-eaten pizza, dead. A younger waitress lying on the floor in the middle of the room, dead. Dean shook his head but kept going. He entered the next room. More Dead bodies sprawled out on the floor. He looked up to a man sitting at a table looking out the window. Sythe in hand Dean crept toward the man. The sythe got hotter the closer he got. As he dropped it on the floor he could feel the blister from the burn forming. There was a loud clanking sound as it hit the ground.

“Thanks for returning that,” the man said. Dean looked up at him. The man just stared out the window, Dean looked back down to find the Sythe had disappeared, “Join me, Dean.” Dean looked back up at the man. It was now sitting on the table beside the man’s plate. “The pizza is delicious!” Dean still cautious walked over.

The man was cutting up a piece of pizza. Not looking up from his plate “ Sit down. I think we need to have a chat.”

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Somehow you got Bobby to let you drive back to his house. It was nice having to focus on the road rather than all the apocalypse shit that was going on. It was still too quiet though. You turned the radio on and popped in a mixed CD. Johnny Cash started playing. You turned the volume up a little. You peeked in the backseat to see if you woke Bobby or Cas.

“I fell into a burning ring of fire. I went down. Down. Down. And the flames went higher.

You looked over at Sam. He was looking at you with wide eyes. “ Oh my god. I’m sorry, I didn't even think about it when it started playing. “ your cheeks got hot.

“ I was wondering how long it was gonna take.” he chuckled.

As you hit the next button on the CD player you hit a bump causing your finger to hit the button a couple of times. Highway to hell by AC/DC started playing. “Shit!” you quickly turned the radio off. “We don't need music.”

Sam chuckled and it made you smile. “But you hate driving without music.” He turned the radio back on and skipped the song. Changes By Tupac started playing and your head started bobbing. He hit the skip button again.

“Hey,” you said

Misunderstanding by Genesis started to play. “ You know your music taste is baffling,” he said smiling.

“Not baffling. It’s diverse.”

He chuckled. “ Whatever you say, princess.” you smiled.

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“He just gave it to you?!” you yelled from under your truck as you put the oil drain plug back in its hole. You slid out from under the truck and stood up, wiping the oil off your hands with a rag. You walked over to the table Dean was sitting at. All 4 rings were lying in front of him.

Dean held a beer out for you. “ With one condition,” he said. You took the beer and opened it. He took a drink of his.

“ Well spit it out.” you took a drink.

“ Sam says yes and puts Lucifer back in the cage.”

“Oh. Of course.”

You guys turned as you heard something slide across the floor by the garage door.

“Bobby,” Dean said. “How’d it go at the Rockette’s audition?”

Bobby laughed. “Kicks were too low. Maybe next year.” You and Dean smiled. “I've been just walking up and down the stairs for no damn reason. I’m kinda sore.” he laughed and sat across the table from Dean.

“Watch this,” Dean said as he put the rings in a particular order. 1 in the middle the other 3 circled it. He slid the one closest to him up toward the 1 in the middle and the other 2 rings moved automatically toward the center.

“So, Death told you how to operate them? The whole deal?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah. It’s freaking crazy.” Dean took a drink “ I have a bigger problem now though.”

“Like?” Bobby asked. You walked back over to your truck and started pouring oil into it.

“What do you think would happen if someone lied To Death's face?”

“Probably nothing good. What did you tell him?”

“That I wouldn't stand in the way of Sam jumping in the pit.”

“So Death thinks Sam should say yes?”

“He said Sam was the only human that stood a chance against Lucifer.”

“Well you didn't tell me that part,” you said as you threw the empty oil jug in the trash can and walked back over to the table.

“Of course, he would say that. He works for Lucifer.”

“Against his Will.” You shot back

“Well, we should probably take his word with a big fat grain of fucking salt. I mean he is Death.”

“Exactly he is death.” You said

“Think of the bird's eye view” Bobby chimed in and you nodded.

“Seriously?” Dean was getting irritated,

“I'm just sayin,” Bobby said holding up his hand.

“Well don’t!”

“Look. I know Sam has some flaws, but…” Bobby paused,

“But?” Dean asked.

“Back at Niveus. I watched that kid pull one civilian out after another, He must have saved over 10 people. With the help of (y/n),” Bobby nodded at you. “ He never stopped, never slowed down. We’re hard on him, Dean. We always have been. Meanwhile, He’s been saving people since he was what 12?”

“Pretty much yea,” Dean confirmed.

“Sam has a darkness in him, yes. But he’s got a hell of a lot of good too.”

“I know that!”

“Then you know Sam will beat the devil or die trying.” Bobby looked at you and then back at Dean. “ And that's the best we can ask for. So I gotta ask you two. What exactly are you guys afraid of? Losing? Or losing Sam?”

You walked out of the garage and looked up to find Sam sitting on the hood of the Impala. You started walking toward him. You knew everything Bobby said was true. You knew there was no going back or trying to talk Sam out of this. It was going to happen. All you could do was enjoy the time you had left.

“Heeeeyy, You come here often big boy?” you said in a cheesy voice.

He smiled. “Only when you're here hot stuff.” you smiled “Want a beer?” you shook your head.

You took a deep breath. “Look I know I've been a pain in the ass about the whole Lucifer, Cage thing and I’m sorry. I know how hard this has been on you. My attitude and fighting haven't made it any better.”

“I get it. Trust me” He sighed “I let him out (y/n). All the shit that's happened, it’s on me. I have to make this right and put him back in the cage before more people die.”

“Ok.”

“OK?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. I understand and I’m not gonna fight it anymore. Even though I fucking hate it with every ounce of my soul.”

“I know. I really am sorry I probably shouldn’t have called and let this all happen. I feel like I led you on in a way.”

“Well, you didn’t and I’m glad you called. I would of rather it have gone like this than never knowing how you felt,” you confessed.

He grabbed you and pulled you over to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck. He rested his forehead against yours.

“(y/n) can you promise me something?” he whispered.

“Maybe.”

“If I do this. If I win and jump into the cage..” He paused “You and Dean can't try to bring me back.”

“Excuse me?”

“Seriously Babe. What if you start rattling the cage and you let him out again?”

“Sam, I can't just let you rot in a cage with the devil for eternity.”

“You can’t risk it.” your jaw tightened. Damn it, He was right.

“Please?”

“Fine.”

You heard Dean clear his throat behind you” Get a room.”

Sam laughed.

“Heya (y/n) can I get a minute with Sam?”

“Yep.” you gave Sam a peck on the cheek then bent down grabbed a beer and walked away.

“Hey!” both Winchesters said at the same time. You looked back and stuck your tongue out at them.

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You pulled up to the abandoned warehouse and saw Bobby standing at the back of his van looking at newspapers. You parked your truck and walked over to him.

“Hey kiddo, How you holdin' up?”

“Bout the same. Anything good?”

“Couple things that stood out.” you both turned as you heard the warehouse doors open. Your stomach went queasy when you saw Sam and Castiel holding gallon jugs of blood. Sam’s eyes met yours and he hesitated at the steps. Dean walked up behind him. Sam lowered his head and continued to the Impala. You looked back at the papers Bobby was holding. Dean walked over to you and Bobby.

“Bobby I just can’t get used to you at eye level.” Bobby gave him a smirk. “(y/n) how ya doin' sweetheart?”

“Just peachy,” you said in a sarcastic tone.

Dean sighed, “Yeah. You don’t have…”

“Save it, Dean. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.”

He nodded and then looked at Bobby. “Well, Yoda you were right. 2 stunt demons in there just like you said.”

“Did you get it?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah. All the go juice Sammy can drink. “Dean replied. Your stomach turned again.

“You ok?” you asked Dean.

“Not really. Did you guys find anything?”

“Do these look like omens to you?” Bobby handed Dean the papers as he read the headlines out loud. “Cyclone in Florida, Temperature drop in Detriot, Wildfires in L.A…”

“Wait, Detriot?” you asked as Dean and you looked at each other and then back at Bobby.

Bobby’s eyebrows furrowed. “ the temps dropped about 20 degrees, but only in a 5-block radius of downtown Motown.”

“That's the one.” Dean tossed the newspapers in the back of Bobby’s van. “He’s in Detriot.”

“You sure?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah. He’s sure.” you chimed in. You looked over at Sam. The sadness on his face made your stomach twist. You looked back at Bobby. “Van or truck?”

“You think your truck will be okay here?”

“Should be. If not I know a guy that has a scrap yard. I’ll just fix another one up.” They both smiled. “ I just gotta grab my stuff.” and turned to walk back to your truck.

You opened the back seat and leaned in to grab your duffle. You felt Sam behind you. “ you know you shouldn’t sneak up on a hunter.” he stayed silent. “Sammy, you ok?” you asked as you turned around and your heart broke. He stood there with his hands in his jacket pockets. Lips drawn in a tight line. His eyebrows pulled up and together. His eyes were so full tears were almost spilling out. You wrapped your arms around him as tight as you could. His arms wrapped around your shoulders.

“ you sure about this?” you asked.

“Yes. I have to.”

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The ride with Bobby was silent. Neither of you wanted to talk about what happened next.

Both cars parked in an alley across the street from a building in the middle of the temperature-dropped zone. You and Bobby found Lucifer’s hiding place. A dingy dirt dirt-covered white two-story house.

“We found it. At least 2 dozen demons on guard.” he pointed in the direction. “ Our guess is he’s in there.

“Alright then, (y/n) Give me a hand would ya?” Dean said as he nodded to the back of the Impala. You followed Dean. He popped the trunk. Your stomach twisted again at the sight of the jugs.

“So on the way here, Sam made me promise something. “ Dean confessed so low you could barely hear him.

“I know he made me promise too.”

“So you’re getting out?” He asked surprised.

“ Uh no. I never agreed to that. I just promised I wouldn’t rattle the cage.”

“Hmm, He told me to go find Lisa and settle down. Live an apple-pie life.”

Dean was looking over the lifted drunk. He looked down blinking back tears. You peeked around Bobby and Sam were hugging. You felt a sting in your chest. You were not ready for this.

“Dean, you deserve to be happy. If Lisa and Ben are that for you then you should go. No one is going to judge you for getting out. And if they do fuck ‘em!”

He smiled. “Thank you. And what about you?”

Sam walked over to Castiel with his hand out.

“I don’t know,” you said blinking back tears. Happiness for you was out of the question and you knew it. Dean rubbed your shoulder.

Sam looked over at you and started walking towards you. Dean patted your shoulder and then walked away.

“Hey there hot stuff, you come here often?” He said as he approached you.

You smiled “Only when you’re here, Big boy.” You said with tears sliding down your cheeks.

He grabbed you and pulled you into his arms. Your arm wrapped around him as you laid your head against his head. You could feel his heart pounding. You inhaled his vanilla and cedar scent for the last time. He lifted your chin with his fingers and wiped away your tears. He brought his lips to your ear. “I love you, always have, always will.” He whispered. And then his lips were on yours, the kiss was quick and sweet, but you could feel through his soft lips meant every word.

“I love you too Sam.”

He squeezed you one last time. “Do you mind not watching this, (y/n)?” He said as he loosened his hold and put his hands on your cheeks. You nodded as a few tears ran down your cheeks. Sam wiped them away and kissed your forehead. You turned and started walking over to where everyone else was. You wiped your eyes trying to stop crying.

“You okay?” Dean Asked.

“No. you?”

“No.”

No one could say or do anything to make you feel better, the four of you just stood there in silence. Sam slammed the trunk when he finished. He was all jacked up. “Let’s go!” The blood smeared on his lips brought your nausea back. You started to walk with Sam and Dean, all four men yelled “NO!” and Castiel grabbed your arm.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Please?” Sam pleaded.

You nod and watch him walk away. Castiel wrapped his arm around you and you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Alright we’re here, you sons of bitches, come get it.” you heard Sam yell when they got to the sidewalk. Two demons walked out the door and grabbed the boys shoving them through the door. You started to take a step.

“(y/n)” Castiel said. Tightening his arm. You didn’t fight him.

After the longest 3 minutes of your life, you see a flash of bright light explode out of the second-story windows. Then all of a sudden the wind kicked up and you knew Dean had opened the cage.

The wind stopped within 10 seconds. Was he gone? Like really gone? There was no breakdown into tears, no giant hole feeling in your chest like you thought there would be. Sure you were sad and you knew something had changed, but he didn't feel gone.

A couple of minutes later Dean came walking out of the house. He kept his head down until he made it to your side of the street. When he looked you in the eyes you saw the extra wetness in his.

“Well?” Bobby asked when Dean reached you guys.

Dean explained everything that happened. How Lucifer had already known about the rings, How Sam and Lucifer had a battle in Sam’s head, How Lucifer had taken over his body, took the rings, and disappeared. “ I tried to talk him out of it in the last few seconds.”

“Dean.” you tried to tell him it wasn't his fault.

“I know” He cut you off. Just then you heard a big commotion coming from down the street you four all looked at each other and headed in that direction. There was an electronic store with T.V.s in the front window. The banner across the bottom of them said breaking news.

Reporter: Reports are flooding in a 7.6 earthquake in Portland, 8.1 in Boston, and more in Hong Kong, Berlin, And Tehran. The U.S.G.S. has no explanation but says to expect a six-figure death toll.

“It’s starting,” Castiel said.

“You think Genuis?” Dean said sarcastically

“Dean, you don't have to be an ass.” You chimed in.

“Sorry,” he said to Cas. “So what do we do now?”

“I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol and wait for the inevitable blast wave.”

“Well, thank you, Bukowski..”

“Dean stop.” You were over his attitude. “How do we stop it Cas?”

“We can’t…” Castiel said with a grim look on his face. “Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field. And the battle of Armageddon will begin.”

“Ok, Where’s this chosen field?” Dean asked in a nicer tone.

“I don’t know”

“There’s gotta be something we can do,” Dean argued.

“I’m sorry, Dean, It's over,” Castiel said with glossy eyes.

“Castiel, We are not giving up!” Bobby walked up beside Dean.”Right, Bobby?” Bobby stood there in a daze. “Bobby?” Dean raised his voice a little.

“There wasn’t much hope to begin with,” Bobby said shaking his head. “ I don’t know what else to do.”

“Fucking ridiculous” Dean growled and started walking back to the car. The rest of you followed him.

“Hey Cas, Do you mind riding back with Bobby? I need to talk to Dean,” you asked when you got back to the alley.

“Sure,” he said and walked over to Bobby’s van.”

“ So what do you need to talk about?” Dean asked when after you guys got in.

“Do you still have Chuck’s number?”

Dean’s face lit up as he smiled. “ I knew you wouldn’t give up.” He pulled out his phone and searched in his contacts. He hit the green button and put the phone up to his ear.

“Um, no, Chuck?” “Who’s Mistress Magda?” “Yeah, I’ll bet real close. What happened to Becky?” “Boy, you got a whole virgin/hooker thing going on don’t you?” Oh come on Dean you thought. “Sam said yes.” “Did you see where the fight is going down?” Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, “Fuck.” “Stull Cemtary, wait I know that, It's right outside of Lawrence. Why Lawrence?” “Alright, Do you know of any way to short-circuit this thing?” “Did you see what going to happen next?” “Alright, thanks, Chuck.” He hit the red button.

“Tomorrow. Noon. You feel like a road trip to Kanas?”

“I'm in. Let me grab my guns.” you went to Bobby’s van to grab your things. You made it back over to the Impala before Bobby and Cas stopped you and Dean.

“You two going someplace?” Bobby yelled as he walked over. “ ya’ll are gonna do somethin’ stupid huh?”

“We are going to talk to Sam.”

“You just don’t give up.” Bobby looked at Dean then you.

“Bobby, It’s Sam.” You said.

“ If you couldn’t reach him here,” Castiel chimed in “you're certainly not gonna be able to on the battlefield.”

“Maybe not, But she might be able to. She and I together might do it. And if we have already lost, we don’t have anything to lose right?”

“I just want both of you to understand. All you are going to see out there is Michael killing Sam.”

“Well then, we aren’t going to let him die alone,” Dean said as he looked at you. You nodded in agreement. You both got in the car and drove off.

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Dean stopped the car right outside the entrance to the old run-down graveyard. You could see Sam and Adam talking ahead in the distance.

“You ready?” Dean said pushing a tape in the cassette player.

“As I’ll ever be.”

He revved the engine a few times, hit play on the radio, and turned the volume up.

Gunter, Gliben, Glaunchen, Globen come through the speakers as he drives down to his brothers. You and Dean get out of the car.

“Howdy boys, are we interrupting something?” He says as he closes the door. He motions for you to stay back and he walks closer to Sam. “We need to talk.”

“Dean, even for you this is a whole new level of stupid,” Lucifer said

“I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to Sam.” “You’re no longer the vessel Dean, you got no right to be here.” Adam cut in

“Adam. If you're in there somewhere I am so sorry.”

“Adam isn’t here right now.”

“Well, then you’re next on my list buttercup. Right now I want 5 minutes with him.”

“You little maggot, you are no longer part of this story,” Adam said approaching Dean. You started walking in their direction.

“Hey ass-but.” you heard Castiel. You looked up to see him and Bobby stand there. Just then Castiel threw a bottle at Adam. Adam caught on fire letting out an eye-piercing scream then vanished.

“Ass-butt?” Dean asked Cas.

“He’ll be back and angry, but you got your 5 minutes.”

“Castiel,” Sam said. “Did you just molotov my brother with holy fire?”

Cas raised his hands backing away “Uh no.”

“No one dicks with Michael, but me!” He snapped his fingers and Castiel exploded spraying pink mist all over Bobby.

“NO!” you yelled. And Lucifer spun in your direction.

“Sammy, can you hear me?” Dean asked.

Lucifer turned to him. “You know, I've tried to be nice.”He walked up to Dean. “For Sammy’s sake, but you are such a pain.” he grabbed Dean by the opening of his jacket. “In my ass.” Lucifer threw Dean into the windshield of the Impala and started back at him. You and Bobby both pulled your guns out and shot at the same time. Lucifer looked at you then turned halfway to Bobby. He looked back at you. He raised both hands and twisted them. Breaking yours and Bobby’s neck at the same time. Dean looked back and forth between you two as your lifeless bodies dropped to the ground.

“NOOO!!” Dean yelled.

“Yes,” Lucifer said grabbing Dean’s ankle and pulling him off the Impala. Punching Dean so hard he busted his lip open. Dean fell onto the Impala. He stood back up, spitting the blood out of his mouth.

“Sammy, are you in there?”

“Oh, he’s in here alright,” Lucifer said taking another swing at Dean’s face. He fell back down onto the Impala.” and he’s gonna feel me snap all of your bones.” Lucifer landed another punch. This time knocking Dean to the ground. “Every single one.” Lucifer picked Dean up and propped him up against the Impala. Punch, punch, punch punch. After about 12 blows Lucifer stopped. Dean’s face was swollen and bloody.

“Sammy. It’s ok. I'm here.” Dean managed to say. “I'm not going to leave you.” Lucifer punched again. And again. And again. “I'm not gonna leave you.” Dean's voice was muffled from all the swelling and a couple of busted teeth.

As Lucifer drew his fist back the glare of the window caught his eye. Sam was fighting hard. And then looked down at the army man stuck in the back ashtray. This is what Sammy needed to fuel his fight. He thought of all the good memories he and his brother shared in this car. Shoving the army man in the ashtray while Dean shoved legos in the front vent, carving their initials by the speaker in the rear dash. He thought about all the pranks and road trip sing a longs they had. The time he scared the grab out of Dean who was sleeping in the passenger seat. Dean making him dinner when they were kids. Dean sacrificing his life for Sam’s. He lowered his fist and let go of Dean. Dean fell to the ground. One eye was swollen shut and a broken swollen jaw, and his face was covered in blood. He was almost unrecognizable.

“It’s ok, Dean.” Sam had taken over his body. “It's gonna be ok. I've got him.” he reached into his pocket, grabbed the rings, and tossed them on the ground. “ Bvtmon, Tabges, Babalon.” The ground rumbled and a sinkhole opened. The wind started whipping and the thunder roared loud.

“Sam, It can’t end this way. I have to fight my brother. You need to step back.” Adam was back.

“You're gonna have to make me,” Sam yelled He took one last look at Dean, put his arms out, and started to fall. Adam rushed over and grabbed him. But it was too late. They both fell into the pit. With a big flash, the pit closed. The rings lay on the ground where Sam had tossed them. Dean crawled over and just held them. As he started weeping he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and there stood Castiel.

“Cas, you’re alive?”

“I'm better than that.” He touched Dean’s forehead and healed him.

“Cas, Are you god?” Deam asked getting to his feet.

“That's a nice compliment.” Castiel smiled. “But no. although I believe he did bring me back, New and improved.” He walked over to Bobby and touched his temple. Bobby came back to life. Bobby sat up and Cas nodded at him. He looked back at Dean, who was pointing at you. “I know.” Dean got up and followed Cas over to your body. Castiel bent down and put his fingers on your temple.

You woke. You sat up and looked around. Sam was gone, really gone. Your heartbeat started to race, your hands began to shake, and You started panting for air as your chest tightened. Dean plopped down beside you pulling you into a bear hug.

“Shhh. Deep Breath (y/n).” Dean said in a calming voice. But the tears were coming and you couldn't stop them. You started bawling into Dean’s Chest.

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You were sort of relieved when you got back to your truck. The whole ride here with Dean had been silent. You grabbed your stuff out of his backseat and threw it in yours. Dean and Bobby were standing by the tailgate.

“Well..” Dean said.

“That’s a deep subject,” Bobby remarked. You shook your head and smiled. “What’s next for you (y/n)?” Dean asked you.

“Not sure,”

“What about you?” Bobby asked Dean.

“I made a promise,” Dean said walking over to hug you. “If you need anything, and I mean anything.”

“I know Dean,” you said as you hugged him back.

He walked over to Bobby. “You have my number too,” Dean said as he hugged Bobby. “ Keep her outta trouble, will ya?”

“I do.” Bobby smiled. “I can try, but I'm only one man.” Dean chuckled. Bobby looked at you. “You coming back to the house?”

“Eventually.” you needed some space right now.

“Just be careful,” Bobby said as he hugged you.

“Always.” you squeezed back.

Everyone walked to the driver doors of their vehicles. You waved at them then hopped in your truck.

The three of you drove off in different directions.

#sam fanfic #supernatural sam winchester #supernatural sam #spn reader insert #supernatural #spn #fluff and angst #sam and dean #samwinchester #sam winchester #spn fanfic #spnfandom #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #spn swan song

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woodle-isbae · 11 months ago

Note

Hey I was wondering if you'd do a virgin reader with Sam or Colby

First request ever please

"Y'sure?"

"Yes , yes I'm sure Sam."

"I've prepped you enough , but I can't guarantee it won't hurt a bit"

"I trust you..I'll tell you when you can start moving."

He began kissing down your jaw , slowly pushing himself inside you , giving you some time to adjust.

"S-sam..you can move"

"I'll start slowly"

He started of at a moderate pace , thrusting slowly and allowing you to get used to the feeling. You began clawing at his back , begging for more , and who was he to deny you that?

His thrusts faster and harder , faint moans leaving his pink lips , his hand fondling at your breast and the other gripping onto your hip

"Ah- sam , I think im gonna-"

Shushing your words with a deep kiss , slowing down his strokes and making them deeper , his groans turning into grunts as he was trying to catch up to your orgasm

"You can - shit - you can cum , you got this."

Stumbling over his words as his own orgasm washed over , growing sensitive as you clenched against him.

After catching his breath he got off you and went to get a warm towel and some water , taking care of you

"How was it?"

"It was...amazing"

#sam golbach #xplr #sam smut #colby brock #sam fanfic #sam fanfiction #x black reader #x reader #x fem reader #sam golbach x reader #azana #chubby!reader #black plus size reader

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moonlight-rider25 · 2 years ago

Text

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme..

..A Winchester boys series, featuring you as the reader, Sam and Dean?..

..Hunting cases together...

...angsty backstory...

..You can pick who you end up with...

What do you think?

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here-for-the-captain · 2 months ago

Text

For those fanfic writers who worry that no one’s reading or they aren’t that good - you may be our next Oscar winner. I believe in you!

Chloé Zhao, who just won an Oscar for best director, writes fanfiction.

That's the kind of validation I needed in my life. Thank you, ma'am.

#bucky x reader #writing #falcon and the winter soldier #fanfiction #fandom life #chloe zhao writes fanfiction #i don't have to hide in the shadows #anything is possible #chris evans fan fic #bucky fanfic #Sebastian fanfic #ransom drysdale x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #captain america #anthony mackie #sam fanfic

146K notes · View notes

redbird-tf · 3 months ago

Text

Wild dog

dean x little sister

synopsis; A vampire hunt goes horribly wrong, leaving you injured in more ways the one, by the person you'd least expect.

inspired by

Word count; 2.6k (officially my longest story, please dont let it flop)

Warning: hurt/comfort, injury, john, violence, language

No no no, this couldnt be happening. You all knew taking on a vampire nest was a dangerous mission, but this mistake should have never happened. Now, here you lay on the cold, hay-covered floor of an old barn. Pain pulses through your body, your mind teetering on the edge of consciousness, and Dean looming over you.

The barn was crawling with those nasty blood-sucking monsters—20, maybe more. You three had been tracking them for weeks and prepared well. Hiding in the bushes, you waited until the nest was deep in slumber before making your move. You had to move quietly. Killing as many in their sleep as possible until one awoke. Its shrill scream shattered the silence, jolting the rest of the nest awake. "Split!" Dean's voice rang out, and in an instant, you all scattered.

Dean skidded to a stop as he faced a dead end. His grip tightened around the machete, turning to face the vamps closing in. “come get it you sick son of a bitch” he growled. He swung in every direction, blood soaking his clothes. When Dean got like this he turned into a killing machine. No thoughts just, swing-hit-kill, swing-hit-kill. A vamp hurled down at him from the ceiling, yet without flinching Dean grabbed it by the throat slamming it against the wall behind him and slicing its head clean off. Only when the head rolled past his feet did he take a breath and allow his shoulder to slump.

The sound of fast footsteps made him whirl around, swinging his machete wildly, his fist connecting with the creature's face, sending it crashing to the ground. “Dean stop!” Sams horrified voice rang pulling Dean from his soilder like state. Deans eyes widened in shock and the machete slipped from his hand. “Oh my god” his voice broke. It was you. You who was running up on him. You who’s side he sliced into. It was you who lay in front of him now.

Dean collapsed to his knees, and his hands came up to cradle your face “Sweetheart, sweetheart can you hear me” he begged with desperation. You let out a painful groan, and Dean let out a heavy sigh of relief. Sam lifted your shirt, inspecting the cut that was pouring blood. His concerned gaze met Dean, “What?” Dean demanded, panic rising in his chest. “We can’t stitch this dean, we need to take her to the hospital now” Sam replied with quick urgency. He pushed Dean aside, scooping you into his arms. You let out another agonizing moan. “Sorry bug” Sam whispered. “And say what?” Dean frantically snapped while darting toward the car. “I don't know Dean, let's worry about that when our sisters insides aren’t visible!” Sam shouted in frustration.

————-

When they reached the hospital, Dean shouted for help, and within seconds doctors surrounded them, lifting your limp body from Sam's arms and onto a bed. Deans eyes never left you as you were wheeled away, only breaking when pushed past white doors. It was then the adrenaline wore off and guilt flooded his body. He stood frozen, Sam’s voice was mumbled trying to convince the nurse it had been a bear or something.

“Sir, sir, SIR” Dean's trance was broken by the nurse's voice. “Does your hand feel alright?” She asked kindly. Dean furrowed his brows in confusion, then looked down at his fist. His knuckles were bruised and the image of his fist connecting with your face made his lip quiver.

Dean and Sam sat in the silence of the waiting room. Dean's head hung low, his thumb rubbing over his bandaged hand. Sams head jerked up at the sound of heavy footsteps, “what the hell” he muttered. Deans eyes widened at the sight of John. They both quickly stood from their seat “Dad what are you-“Sam was cut off. “What the hell happened?” John asked sternly, gazing between the brothers. There was a tense pause before Dean spoke up “It was me… she ran up from behind me. i should have been more careful…” Dean spoke quietly, half to keep the nurses from hearing and half because he couldn’t raise his voice without the risk of breaking down. John sighed heavily “How many goddamn times have i told her not to do that-“John started “It's not her fault” Dean quickly rebutted. John opened his mouth but fell silent at the sight of a nurse approaching. “How is she?” John asked, his body tensed, bracing for the worst. “Shell be alright” the boys shoulders dropped. “Shell have to take it easy for a few months to prevent tearing stitches….” The nurse paused, hesitating to continue “Her injury was very severe, it's a miracle she's still alive” The room fell silent again. “Can we see her?” Sam asked in an urgent tone.

The three of them hurried to your room. Sam and John rushed to your bedside, except for Dean who stood frozen in the doorway, watching you slowly gain consciousness.” what happened?” You asked groggily. Sam spoke softly to you but the Anastasia still weighed heavy, making it hard to understand his words. A shiver ran through your body and your head cocked to the side catching a glimpse of Dean. Dean jumped out of sight, pressing his back against the wall. He swallowed sharply, his heart hammering in his chest. “De…” he heard you call. “Dean” again, and again. A moment later John stepped out, “she's cold. She wants a jacket” he stated firmly. Without a word, Dean shrugged off his jacket and pushed it into John's hand. “Go home. We’ll talk later” he ordered. “Yes sir,” Dean said lowly, his hand dragged down his face, then he turned his heel.

—————-

“What do you remember?” Sam asked, sitting at the edge of your bed. You thought for a moment, your mind capturing bits and pieces. A look of shock came over your face. “I was running to Dean and then…” Your breath hitched and your hand clutched your side “he didn't mean to” you whispered with turned-up brows. Sams brows furrowed in contrast “Of course he didn’t” he reassured you, placing his hand over yours. “Here you go kid” John stepped forward, passing Dean's jacket to you. “Where's Dean?” You asked. “Let's get going before the cops get here” John continued ignoring your question. “He didn't mean to Dad! It's my fault” you blurted out. Johns's gaze sharpened “you were reckless. and he acted like a goddamn wild dog. This is on both of you, i hope you've learned something. Now come on” he snapped coldly, turning his back.

——

The drive back to the motel in John's truck was silent with unbearable tension. When John pulled into the lot you noticed Dean's impala was nowhere in sight. “I'll check into another room. You two go to bed,” John said gruffly, pointing between you and Sam before walking off. Sam carried the bags into the room as you limped in behind him. “Where Dean?” You asked, turning to Sam with a confused look. “He’s probably just grabbing a drink” he explained, while unpacking his bag. “Can we call him, just to make sure” you nervously fidgeted with your fingers, “let's just give him some space right now,” Sam spoke quietly, giving you sympathetic eyes.

You had been tossing and turning for hours. Unable to sleep thanks to the pain meds wearing off. You stared at the ceiling until the glow of headlights flickered into the room. You listened closely to the squeak of brakes, followed by the jingles of keys. You quickly closed your eyes pretending to sleep. Footsteps crept their way into the room, then faded back out. You peeked around the room, seeing nothing changed. Slowly you sat up, cradling your side as you pushed yourself from the bed. Grabbing Dean's jacket from the nightstand, you tiptoed to the door making sure not to wake Sammy while you slipped out.

The wind bit at your cheeks. You quickly draped the jacket over your shoulders, pulling it tight. The Impala was parked in front of you, but no still dean in sight. Your eyes scanned the lot. It wasn't until you squinted your eyes that you spotted a figure in the distance, sitting on a bench, beneath a large oak tree. After a few minutes of limping, and grunting, you finally reached the bench. Dean swung around at the sound. “I got your jacket…” you said awkwardly. “Keep it,” he muttered after giving you a once over and taking a sip of his drink. You slowly took a seat next to him. The rustle of the tree blowing in the wind surrounding you two. “I shouldn’t have run up on you-“ you tried to reason “It's not your fault” Dean cut you off, his voice firm, eyes locked on the ground. “You've told me over and over again not to “ “so i should have known. I shouldn’t have looked before…” his voice strained.

Another silence settled. “I don't blame you Dean” you stated softly. “Well, i do.” He replied sharply, taking another swing of his drink. You watched him for a moment before shifting closer, resting your head on his shoulder. You could feel him relax beneath your touch. “You know when we were younger, I'd come home from school and Dad would be gone, but you'd be there.” You kept your voice steady. “Then Sam left, and i was sure you would to…but you never did. You've always been there for me Dean” you spoke softly. You saw his grip tighten around the bottle. “You know what hurt most of all” your voice barely a whisper. “when i called for you from the bed…and you didn't come” Your voice wavered before you could stop it and you bit down on your lip. Deans body stiffened. For the first time that night, he looked you in the eyes. His green eyes were a storm of emotions. “I'm sorry, kid” his voice painfully sincere. He lifted his hand to cradle the side of your face, his thumb smoothing over the bruise beneath your eye. “Dean i know you won't forgive yourself, but can you make me a promise” Your voice shook terribly, trying to keep your tears at bay. Dean nodded immediately. “promise you'll always come when i call you” you pleaded. Dean's face cringed realizing the pain he caused you, some worse than the physical. “I promise, baby” His voice was firm, unwavering. A gust of wind cut through the air causing you both to shiver violently. “We should go in now” Dean suggested to which you quickly nodded, earning a soft chuckle from him.

As You both stood up, a sharp pain radiated down your side, stopping you in your tracks. Dean turned to you in an instant, hearing you wince. “what's wrong?” He asked concerned. “My side” you breathed out, clutching at your ribs while bent over. Dean crouched down in front of you “How about i give you a ride” Dean recommended. You couldn’t help but smile as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, allowing him to slowly lift you off the ground. His warmth engulfed you. Your eyes grew heavy, sleep pulling you in as you rested against him. until his voice pulled you back. “You know I'll always protect you too. Even if that means from me sometimes” he said quietly, but his voice laced with a sense of seriousness. You pressed your face into his shoulder, letting yourself relax again before softly murmuring.

“Dean Winchester, my own wild dog”

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lesbiandeanwinchester04 · 1 month ago

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#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #destiel #castiel #deancas #sam winchester #recommend cool fics pls #ao3 fanfic #ao3f

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ambiguous-avery · 1 month ago

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Moon Without Stars, Part 1

Sam Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 1735

Summary: Hunters – the people who lived fast and lawless – had one rule they all abided by. No attachments. And in a world where your first touch with your soulmate would leave a brand behind, No Touching was an unspoken second rule. Not everyone followed that, but you did. Or you tried to. The last thing you needed was for fate to be cruel and bind you to someone. Least of all someone like Sam Winchester.

Tags/Warnings: Soulmate AU, sad Sam (that’s a warning all on its own), pining, fluff, hurt no comfort (this chapter), idiots fighting fate, strangers to enemies to lovers, slow burn, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men

A/N: You’d think that I wouldn’t start up a second series before I finished my first. And you’d think I would’ve learned my lesson after failing to stick to an upload schedule with my first. But nope! I never learn! Moon Without Stars Masterlist

From the very instant Sam Winchester wrapped his fingers around your wrist to help you up, you knew he was yours. His touch was hot, burning you through your jacket sleeve, searing your skin and marking you as his own. And when your own hand left a matching brand on him, a heavy sensation settled in the pit of your stomach, pulling your heart down with it.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

It was supposed to be a straightforward hunt: track down the source of the mysterious deaths plaguing the town, eliminate the threat, and disappear before the sun dipped below the horizon of the sleepy settlement. Stumbling upon your soulmate was never on your hunter’s bingo card, and you were far from thrilled about it. Soulmates were for naive college students who still believed in fairytales. Not for hunters who spent their nights carving up monsters. Not for you.

“So,” Sam’s voice pierced through your thoughts, his hazel eyes searching your face with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “You’re a hunter too.” It wasn’t a question. The callouses on your hands and the silver knife tucked into your boot told him everything he needed to know. You yanked your hand away from Sam’s grip and nodded curtly, trying to ignore the lingering warmth where his skin had touched yours. You cradled it against your chest, as though it had been burned. In a way, it had been. You knew who he was.

“And you’re a Winchester,” you replied, taking a deliberate step back. The distance didn’t help. You could still feel the invisible thread connecting you, pulling taut with every inch you tried to put between you. “Your reputation precedes you.” Everyone knew the Winchester brothers. Hunters extraordinaire. Apocalypse Averters. And most importantly, trouble magnets of the highest order. And now, apparently, one of them was your cosmic match.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that shouldn’t have been as distracting as it was. You briefly wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

“Look, about what just happened–”

“Nothing happened,” you cut him off sharply and desperately tried to ignore the way the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. “None of this,” you made a vague gesture before tugging the sleeve of your jacket down over the brand on your wrist, “is happening. I don’t do soulmates.”

There was a headless vampire body lying on the ground next to you, and you busied your thoughts with the next steps you would need to take to remove all evidence of what had transpired. Decapitation was a messy business, and you needed to burn the remains before any of the locals stumbled upon the grisly scene.

“You don’t do soulmates,” Sam repeated, his voice flat. “Just like that?” You picked up your knife from where it had fallen to the ground and slipped it back into its sheath with practiced ease.

“Just like that.”

The universe had a sick sense of humor, binding you to someone whose life expectancy was shorter than milk left out in the summer sun. Hunters didn’t get happy endings. They certainly didn’t get to ride off into the sunset with their soulmates. They got gruesome, bloody deaths and unmarked graves.

“I see,” Sam said after a momentary pause. “Then I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” His jaw tightened, and you noticed a muscle ticking just beneath his skin. “Because this,” he gestured between the two of you, mirroring your earlier movement, “isn’t something you can just decide doesn’t exist.” He slid the sleeve of his flannel up and held his arm out, palm up.

Your handprint on his wrist was clear. And the spots where your fingers had wrapped around his large forearm were unmistakable. You shoved down the urge to reach out and touch it. It called to you. The sight of it was enough to send a jolt of something through your chest. You turned away, looking at the ground instead.

“Listen, Winchester, I’ve got a body to burn and a town to leave. This doesn’t have to be complicated.”

“It’s Sam,” he said curtly. You ground your teeth together, clamping your jaw shut so you didn’t repeat it back to him just to hear it in your own voice. “You do realize that finding your soulmate isn’t a simple, everyday occurrence, right? A once in a lifetime sort of experience.”

“Once in a lifetime,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. “You pull that straight from one of those soulmate matching conventions?”

“Straight from what I believe.”

Something in his tone made you glance up at him, and that was a massive mistake. The disappointment in his eyes hit you harder than you expected. You’d faced down monsters without flinching, but his wounded expression made your chest ache in a way that felt dangerously similar to caring.

You turned away from him, focusing on the remains and everything that needed to be done. Your machete needed to be cleaned. The ground needed to be salted. Was that decaying leaf on the ground from the tree nearby or blown in from further away? Anything to avoid looking at the hurt flickering across his face.

“It’s just a mark. I’m not destined to be yours,” you muttered. “Not anyone’s.” Something in your chest tightened at your own words, though you couldn’t decide if it was relief or disappointment. You refused to examine the feeling too closely. You knelt beside the vampire’s corpse, pulling out a small container of accelerant from your pack. You needed to focus on the job. “You can go now. I’ve got this covered.”

You didn’t want him to go. You wanted him to stay. You wanted to wrap yourself in him and learn everything that made him tick. Needed to know the ins and outs of his mind until you could recite the entire book that was Sam Winchester.

You ignored the feeling. The clawing. The bile that rose in the back of your throat. You were an expert at ignoring things. Pain, hunger, exhaustion, loneliness. What was one more item on the list? And it wasn’t attraction, you reminded yourself. It was just biology. Chemistry. A cosmic joke the universe was making at your expense, and you weren’t laughing.

Instead of leaving, Sam crouched down across from you. You wanted to cheer. You wanted to retch.

“My brother’s nearby. We can help.”

“I don’t need your help,” you insisted even as your hands trembled slightly, betraying your composure. You blamed it on the adrenaline from the hunt, not the lingering sensation of his touch. You needed more distance from him. You needed to be closer.

You needed to get a grip on yourself.

In the distance, faint sirens wailed. You scowled.

“Damn it,” you muttered. You doused the vampire’s remains quickly, struck a match, and tossed it onto the corpse. The flames caught immediately, hungrily consuming the body. The fire wouldn’t destroy everything before the authorities arrived, but it would be enough to eliminate the supernatural aspect. No one would be the wiser.

You and Sam made eye contact over the burning corpse, each of you wearing your own expression of grim determination. The mark on your wrist pulsed, as though it could sense what you had planned.

“It’s nothing personal, Sam.” Your heart leapt, and you decided that you could not say his name again. It put butterflies in your stomach. It sounded right on your tongue. It weakened your resolve. It made you ask ‘what if.’ “I’m just not looking to give life something else to take away from me.” Sam’s expression shifted, something unreadable flickering across his features before settling into understanding.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Okay.”

The fire crackled between you, casting dancing shadows across his face. You tried not to think of the way they seemed to accentuate his features. In another life, you might have found it romantic – meeting your soulmate over a burning corpse under the moonlight. But this wasn’t a romance novel. This was your reality.

“We should go,” you said, already beginning to back away from the flames. “Those sirens are getting closer.” Sam nodded, rising to his full height. He was taller than you’d initially realized, his broad shoulders blocking out the moonlight behind him.

“Our car’s this way,” he gestured toward the tree line. “Dean’s waiting.”

“I’ve got my own ride,” you replied, jerking your thumb in the opposite direction. Every instinct screamed at you to put as much distance between yourself and him. You turned to leave, and the dead leaves crunched beneath his boots as Sam closed the distance between you in a few long strides. His hand caught your elbow, and the touch sent another jolt through your system, making your breath catch. Goddammit.

“Wait,” he said. “Can I at least get your name? You know mine.” You hesitated, weighing your options. Names had power. Giving him yours felt like surrendering something precious, something you couldn’t afford to lose. Exchanging names felt like it would be the last little piece that would solidify the whole soulmate thing. Cement it into reality. The mark on your wrist throbbed insistently, as if punishing you for even considering walking away without a proper introduction.

Your name left your lips, and he repeated it back to you. And the way it sounded coming from him twisted your insides. Made you doubt every single notion you had about soulmates. Made you want to turn around and follow after him like an obedient little puppy. Made you bite your tongue until you tasted blood just so you could pull yourself back into the moment and remember how ridiculous the whole concept of soulmates was.

You could give yourself one more luxury before you cut the head off of the beast that was your feelings. One more time, and then never again.

“Good-bye, Sam Winchester.”

The words were cold. Clipped. Professional. You shook his hand off, striding away before he could say anything else. Before you buckled to your mark’s insistent whining to touch and be touched by your cosmic match. The sirens grew louder, undoubtedly drawing closer to your location. You forced yourself not to look back, even as every cell in your body screamed at you to do so.

Fate was a fickle bitch, and you weren’t about to bend over and let her fuck you.

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Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Sam taglist: @jollyhunter @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @voodoochildthings @sir-thisisadndserver @colours-of-thewind @kiddieclaws

Drop a comment, ask away, or add yourself to my taglist!

Part 2

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deansmultitudes · 5 months ago

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I didn't expect I'd be making a round-up this year but a few bite-sized fics happened and you know what? They're tiny, but I'm proud of them. They might have just been the perfect size to encapsulate the quintessence of my inspiration. Or something like that.

Oh, and almost all of them are deanlisa, which like, goals <3

⨳

wicker. → dean x lisa. 282. d a r k. he locks his fingers on her slender throat

almost. → dean x lisa. 234. bittersweet. it almost scares him, the way he needs her

ease. → dean x lisa. 202. bittersweet. she wakes up and, for a heartbeat, the bed’s too warm

rock → dean x lisa. 329. trucker au. Lisa’s not like most women Dean meets at the truck stops

With Laughter → sam. 1291. post-finale. d a r k. Sam receives a distressed call from Jody, begging him for help.

they wouldn't let you bury him → dean x lisa. 283. deathfic. they burn him on a pyre so he doesn't stay

#fic roundup #fanfic roundup #dean winchester #dean fanfic #sam fanfic #lisa braeden #lisa braeden fanfic #dean x lisa #deanlisa #deanlisa fanfic #deanlisa ficlet #my writing

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justwhisperingfantasies · 8 months ago

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I can't let you go. Part 1.

Characters: Sam Winchester x Female Reader, Dean Winchester, Castiel. Bobby Singer. Crowley. Mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: Language, Implied Smut. Steamy scene, A little fluff, Angst, Hurt Dean, Sam, Reader, and Cas. Guns, Cannon violence. Cannon with a twist. Slight panic attack. Let me know if I forgot any.

Word count: 5,634 words

A/N: My first fic for Sam. I'm sorry this one took a little longer. Hope ya'll enjoy 💗

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You had your phone on vibrate but the constant buzzing woke you. You pulled the pillow over your head and waited for it to stop. Finally, you thought.

And then it started right back up again. You got up in a huff. You didn't even look at the screen. You flicked the phone open.

“What?!”

“Wow, I forgot how grumpy you are when someone wakes up.” He chuckled.

“Sam?!” You sat up, turned the lamp on, and looked at the clock. “It's 2 in the freaking morning? What's wrong?”

“Why would something Be wrong?”

“Because it's 2 in the freaking morning and you're a Winchester. It's usually bad news if a Winchester calls you in the middle of the night.”

“Ouch. True, but still ouch.”

“Can I call you back in the morning? I've had a really long day and need sleep.”

He paused for a second“What were you hunting?”

“Saaaam” You whined.

“ I miss my best friend. Alright? You have been avoiding me since…” He trailed off

“Since Ellen and Jo died. And I haven't been avoiding you, Sam.”

“ Oh come on. I've called you about 100 times and how many of those calls have you returned? Admit it.”

“We can discuss this in the morning.”

“(y/n)..” You heard him say as you were about to close your phone. You hesitated. Why shouldn't you just close it? Why did you have to go running every time Sam Winchester called you? You sighed. Because he was your best friend and you were completely in love with him.

“Sam?” You said still in a grumpy tone.

“Are you close to Bobby's?”

“About 3 hours away.”

“So with your lead foot more like 2?”

“Saaaaamm..” You whined again

“I Need you.”

Fucking hell. Why? Why? Why? Why did he have to pull the I need You card? So unfair.

You groaned Into the phone loudly. “Let me get dressed and have some coffee.”

“I love you.”

It felt like a kick to the gut whenever he said that to you. Of course, it wasn't the way you wanted. “Yea yea, Winchester.” you closed your phone, got up, and got dressed. After filling Your thermos up with coffee you hit the road and you cursed him the whole way there.

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When you got to Bobby's it was a little after 4 am. Sam was sitting on the porch. His face lit up when he saw you. You hated that. You hated even more that you came. You swore to yourself you would grow a backbone and stop chasing him. But he needed you and you really couldn't stop yourself. With a deep breath, you opened your door. He was hugging you before you could even get the door shut. He picked you up and started spinning you around.

“Samuel William Winchester put me down now!!”

He laughed and put you down but kept you wrapped in a hug. You couldn't help but hug him back. “Sammy. What's wrong?”

“Like I said I miss my best friend.”

“You can't lie to me. What's wrong?”

“I haven’t seen you for like 3 months. Can we have 5 minutes please?”

“OK five minutes.” you inhaled his scent of vanilla and cedar with a Hint of honey. God, it was intoxicating. And just like that you were putty in his hands. Crap you thought.

He squeezed you and then released the hug.

“Thanks for coming.” He said walking to the rear of your truck.

You put Your hands in your jacket pockets and followed him. “Like I had a choice.”

“ (y/n) Of course you had a choice “ He leaned Against Your tailgate.

“Right.” You said in a sarcastic tone.

He smiled. Then gave you a serious look.

“ Come on. Out with it.” you nudged him out of the way so you could put the tailgate down. You hopped up to sit on it.

“ Dean said no to Michael. Nobody thought he would be able to resist..” he paused.

“Isn't that a good thing?”

“Yes and no. The angels got Adam to say yes.” he stood up and started pacing.

“Christ!”

“So the fight between Michael and Lucifer is sure to happen now... Lucifer is trying to hold out. He thinks I'll end up saying yes. And he has some kind of magical hold on death now. Then there's Pestilence with some crazy virus up his sleeve. Everything Got so fucked up so fast (Y/n).” He stopped pacing and turned to face you.

You could see the tears in his eyes. You grabbed him and pulled him into your Embrace. His arms were around you again and his head in the crook of your neck.

“Sammy we will find a way. I promise I will do anything I can to help.”

“ I already thought of a way. And just remember that promise as I tell you.”

You tried to detach from the hug, but he tightened his hold. You gave up and kept hugging.

“ I think I have a way to get Lucifer back in the cage. If we can get all 4 rings from the horsemen we can open it.”

“OK But how would you get Lucifer back…. “

The whole world stopped. He wasn't actually considering.” Sam, please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking.”

He sighed. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Read my mind.”

Your eyes were full of tears now. And you held him tighter than you ever had. “Sammy.”

“You promised you would do anything…. Even if that meant letting me go?”

“No!” your voice cracked.

“(Y/n)” he whispered

“Sam, absolutely not.”

“It's the only way to save the world.”

“Fuck the world.”

He released his arms and rested his hands on the trunk by your hips. He leaned his forehead against yours. “You don't mean that,” he was still whispering.

You crossed your arms on your chest and closed your eyes. There's no way you were ever going to be ok with this. “Oh, but I do. If you're not here I don't give a shit if the world survives.” He wiped away the tear that rolled down your cheek.

“Babe..”

“Oh no. You don't get to babe me right…” He cut you off by kissing you. You pushed him back a little. “Sam what the hell? You can't tell me you're Going to let the devil possess you and then kiss me.”

“You're Right.” he sighed with eyes full of shame “I'm sorry.”

How dare he. Make a move now? Now? Why not 11 years ago? That didn't really matter now, can't change the past. Either the world is going to end or you're going to lose him. So why not?

You grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him back to you so he was standing between your knees, He wrapped his left arm around you and his right hand found your neck spreading his finger he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.“ You sure?” He whispered his lips inches from yours. You Slid your fingers up into his hair and nodded. His lips smashed into yours. Your heart thudded in your chest as you felt his desire through his kiss. The fire ran from your lips down to your core.

He let out a growl as you gripped his hair and pulled lightly. He grabbed behind your knees and pulled your crotch to his. The collusion sent electricity through your whole body as you moaned into his mouth. He pushed your lips open with his tongue and started massaging yours with his. He started grinding up against you and you could feel how hard he was. That with the friction made your fire grow wild. You pulled him on top of you as you reclined your upper body back on the truck. His lips skimmed your cheek, as they made their way to your ear, nibbling and sucking the lobe. You felt his hot breath in your ear as he whispered. “Mmm. (y/n) I've wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you.” taking your earlobe back into his Mouth. Sucking on it a little harder this time. You softly moaned his name. You could feel his smile on your neck as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. He left goosebumps on your skin as he glided his hand up your thigh. Stopping at your hip, grabbing it he thrust against you once more. You moaned again. Then continue gliding it up your shirt. He stopped just below your breast. he raised his head and raised one eyebrow “No bra?”

“Some asshole woke me up at 2 in the morning and said he needed me. I didn't feel like putting one on.”

He laughed. “ just some asshole?” he asked and then started kissing your neck again.

“Eh. I guess you can call him my best friend,” you said sarcastically.

He smiled “Just a best friend?” he asked as he grasped your breast and thrusted again.

“Well kinda. I've always wanted him to be more. Don't tell him, but I’m planning on fucking him in the back of my truck.” you said in between moans.

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After you guys got cleaned up and dressed you lay in the back of your truck. He was beside you, arms wrapping you tightly and his head on your chest. You started swirling his hair in your fingers. You have had many fantasies over the years of fucking Sam and just being with him, but none of them could even come close to the reality. Every move, every noise, every time he looked in your eyes, every time he moaned your name. It was perfect. Now even just cuddling with him made your heart so full. He had your heart completely now and there was no way to get it back. You wished you could freeze time, but there was a war coming and a world to save. Plus you had to talk Sam out of the idiotic plan.

“Sammy Not..”

“Please don't ruin this. “ He cut you off.

“I'm not trying to ruin anything, but I have a question and I need the answer.”

He lifted his head and looked at you. “Just cuddle with me. After the sunrise, we will talk about anything you want.”

You sighed you wanted answers, but the sky was already lit. Around another half hour and you could ask away. Plus you would be wrapped in his arms. “Fine, but I'm holding you to that, Winchester.”

He chuckled. “I know you will.” he kissed your lips. Soft and sweet. Then laid his head back on your chest. He put your hand back in his hair. You smiled and started playing with it again.

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Dean was at the kitchen counter making coffee as Bobby rolled his wheelchair in.

“When did (y/n) get here?” Dean asked. Getting coffee mugs for all of them.

“Not sure. Sam must have called her.”

“I’m not sure that was the right thing to do,” he proclaimed as he poured a cup and took it over to Bobby.

“Thanks,” Bobby said as he took the coffee. “Well, she is a damn good hunter. She can probably help with this mess.”

“Yeah so we can get her killed too,” Dean said bluntly. “I'm surprised she even came after what happened to Ellen and Jo. “

“Dean. You can't blame yourself for Ellen and Jo…”

“They were helping us, Bobby.” Dean cut him off.

“No Dean. They were trying to help the world. Not everything is about you.” Bobby said harshly as he rolled out of the room.

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The morning noises mixed with the beautiful sunset were so peaceful. You wished you could just stay in this moment with your best friend forever or was he more now?

You heard him sigh. “Alright. We made a deal.” he sat up beside you. You sat up next to him. He took your hand in his.

“I have known you for 11 years. If you wanted this why wait until now to make a move?”

He took a deep breath. “Well at first I thought you were into Dean.”

You laughed. “ Dean fucks anything with 2 legs Winchester? Ha no thanks.” You loved Dean, but it had always been a big brother love. Sam chuckled and his face went serious again.

“And then everything happened with me and my dad. I finally got out. I didn't want to intrude or make you feel like I was trying to drag you out with me. You have always been 100% in the life. So I had to let you go.”

He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you with ease. As he opened his legs he sat you between them. Leaning your back against him, he kept his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder. “When I walked into the roadhouse that day I could tell by the look on your face that you were hurt. I didn’t even think you’d want to be friends again. It took a while, but when we started getting close again the internal struggle came. I didn't know if I could move on without feeling like I was disrespecting Jess. I realized I was being an idiot and Jess would want me To be happy. When I called you that night and asked you to meet me, I was gonna tell you everything and I was hoping you felt the same, but then Azazel kidnapped me and that whole thing happened. ” he snuck a quick peck on your cheek. You Smiled. “When Dean made his deal, I couldn't think About it. How could I focus on my drama while his life was on the line? Then when he went to hell I completely lost my mind. I pushed everyone away. I did a lot of shit I'm not proud of. After that, I didn't think I deserved anything good. I didn't deserve you.” You turned Your face toward his and kissed him on the cheek. You Tried to comfort him. The Moment your lips lifted off his cheek, he kissed your lips short and sweet. You leaned back into him.

“ We have had a lot going on the last couple of months, but I couldn't stop myself from thinking of you. I know the situation is completely fucked up and I didn't expect things to go exactly the way they did. I mean I'm not complaining at all, but my Plan was just to kiss you and tell you how I felt. How I always felt. I just had to get it out before… Ya know.”

You spun your body around to face him. Looking down at him you could see the tears and fear in his eyes. You pulled him into your arms. You squeezed him as tight as you could and he reciprocated. You laid your head on his shoulder. “Sam. I'm in love with you I always have been. I always will be. You're my best friend. My person. Please don't do this. I need You.” You couldn't hold back the tears.

“(Y/n) I love you too.” he whispered. “ please don't ask me not to. It's the only way to get Lucifer back in the cage. It's the only way to save millions of lives. Baby, I have to.”

You heard the screen door open and Dean's boots walking in the gravel. “ You alright (y/n)?”

“No” You admitted. “ I can't believe.”

“Dean, give us a second. Would ya?” Sam cut you off

Dean looked At Sam with a furrowed brow. Sam raised his.

“Uh yea. I just made a fresh pot. Don't let it go to waste huh.” Dean said as he spun on his heels and walked back to the house.

Sam waited until he was gone. “I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be rude. Dean doesn't know about the plan yet.”

“What?!”

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Sam walked in the door first. You made a B-line for the coffee pot. Dean's coffee was the best.

Sam continued into the study. As you poured yourself a cup you could hear their conversation.

“She was crying, Sam. What the hell is going on?” Dean raised his voice.

You didn't know if you should, but you made your way to the conversation. You leaned on the door frame.

“Dean. I have a plan..” Sam explained the whole plan.

“Absolutely fucking not Sam!” The old Winchester was heated.

Bobby rolled himself into the room but stayed silent.

“What The hell is wrong with you?”

“Dean.”

“Don't Dean me. You've had some stupid ideas in the past, but this?!” Dean started to pace and saw Bobby. “Did you know about this?”

Bobby nodded

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Dean was pissed now. “ And I bet that's why (y/n) was crying. Am I the last person to know?”

“This ain't about me or her, Dean,” Bobby said

Dean turned back to Sam.“ You can't do this.” Yes talk him out of this you cheered from your mind.

“That's the consensus.”

“Good, then this conversation is over.”

Sam looked at you. “Don't look at me, I'm with him.” You said as you pointed at Dean.

Just then Dean's phone started ringing. “The answer is no Sam.”

He answered It as you walked back into the kitchen. You sat down at the table and sipped the last of your coffee. As you put the empty mug down, Sam walked in and grabbed it, taking it over to pour you another cup.

“I would lecture you on how you drink waaaay too much coffee, but I doubt it would do any good.” He places the full mug in front of you and then sits on the opposite side of the table.

“Oh, but I need caffeine. Some asshole kept me up all night.” You said with a smile.

He laughed. “What A stupid asshole. Everyone knows how grumpy you get when you don't get enough sleep.”

“Yea he is being pretty fuckin stupid right now.” sams smile faded.

You hear Bobby yell “I will?” What was Dean putting him up to now?

Sam took your hand and was about to say something When Dean walked in.

“That was Cas. He's human now. Bobby's gonna help me get back here.” He looked over at you guys and then down at your hands. He Raised his eyebrows once but didn't mention it. “Unless you wanna go pick him up (y/n)...” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes. “Bobby, you wana ride along?”

“Don't let Dean bully you darlin. You don't have to.” Bobby said wheeling into the room.

“Ha. Trust me Dean Winchester ain't That scary. It's Cas. He's been there when we needed him. I'm not gonna say no.” they all laughed. “One condition Though.”

“Oh of course.” Dean taunted

“I get the rest of that coffee.” You smiled.

Dean loaded Bobby in the passenger seat of your truck while Sam Put his stuff in the backseat. You tossed Your full, warm thermos in the front seat. And turned to the back door that Sam was shutting.

“Are you sure you'll be alright driving?” he asked as he took a couple of steps toward you.

“Sammy I'll be fine. I've driven longer on less sleep.”

“You be careful.”

“Me be careful? I'm just going to pick up an ex-angel. You're going after a horseman.”

“I'll be careful, promise.”

Since Bobby and Dean were on The other side of your truck you were expecting just a hug. But he put his hand under your chin, raised your head, And knelt in for a kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his other arm around your waist.

Bobby cleared his throat and you could feel Sam's smile.

You both squeezed and then released. He stood there as you hopped into your truck. And he shut your door. “See You later.” You and Bobby nodded.

Dean was standing at The driver's door of the Impala hand on the handle. “Dude,” He said as Sam walked up.

“What?” Sam said annoyed

“It's about damn time.”

Sam smiled as they got in.

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Bobby was quiet for half the trip. He didn't even complain about your speeding. Finally, about Halfway there He broke the silence.

“ ya know I Have known you kids for a long time. I've watched you pine over Sam and then Sam pine over you. I gotta say.” He paused. “ You guys have terrible Fucking timing.”

You lightly chuckled. “You ain’t shittin ”

“It's gonna hurt like hell kid.”

“It was gonna hurt regardless.”

“That's true. So you gonna let him do this?” Bobby asked.

“I'm voting against it, but it's not like Winchesters listen when you tell them not to do something.”

He huffed “Ain't that the damn truth.” he looked over at you for the first time since you left the house. “I'll be here if it happens and you need a shoulder.”

You looked back at him. “I know Bobby. I know.”

You didn't wanna think about that Whole situation right Now. Just focus on getting Cas. Getting the rings and we will cross that bridge when we get there, you told yourself.

“Don’t tell Sam and Dean, but it would be faster if you went alone. Just get in, grab him, and get out”

“I can take care of myself, ya know?” you said defensively.

“I know, kid. Look, we have lost a lot of people. Me and the boys are protective, yes probably more than we should be. We just don’t wanna lose any more family. We love you (y/n).”

“I know.” you opened the door. “ I love you too Bobby.” you hopped out and closed the door.

Cas had given Dean his room number so there was no need to stop at the front desk. You made your way up to his room.

“(y/n), what are you doing here?” Castiel asked as you entered his room.

“I was in the area, thought I’d stop by. Cas I’m here to get you, why else would I be here?”

“ Well obviously. Just surprised you're here by yourself.”

“Bobby is in the truck. Sam and Dean went to get Pestilence.”

“How far away are they?”

“Not very. Let's go.”

You and Castiel had no problems getting out.

“Change of plans Bobby,” you said as you and Cas hopped in the truck.

“ Oh hell.” Bobby groaned.

You made It to the serenity Valley convalescent home as fast as you could. You got out and got in your toolbox. You grab your 9mm, put it in the back of your jeans, and pulled out your shotgun.

“ What do you think you're doing?” Bobby asked.

“Not now Bobby.” You pumped the shotgun. “Let's go Cas.”

Cas looked at Bobby. Bobby nodded at Him to go.

“ I know where he is I can feel him. Follow me and be careful” Cas told you as you entered the building. You guys got to the second floor before you started feeling woozy. You leaned Against the wall for support.

“(y/n) You alright?”

“I'm not feeling so hot. Cas go help the boys.”

“I can't just.”

“GO!” You yelled

Castiel went on. He found the room Pestilence was in and kicked open the door. Sam and Dean were on the ground coughing up blood and barely conscious.

“Cas?” Dean was surprised.

Cas walked in ready to fight. He took 2 steps and fell to his knees. He was weak and could fight couldn't fight off the disease any longer.

“Well look at that. An occupied vessel, but powerless.” Pestilence said smugly. You were almost to the door. If you could just make it to the door you could help.

Just make it to the door…. You thought as You fell. Everything hurt. Your insides felt like they were going through a meat grinder. You were burning up, but freezing at the same time. You didn't even have the strength to cry out.

Then suddenly all the symptoms just stopped. You felt fine. You grabbed your shotgun and Walked to the door. As you looked in the room you saw Sam and Dean getting up. Then Dean rushes to grab something off a table, Castiel Lying on his back with a demon on top of him dying from the demon blade, and Pestilence holding his bloody hand, a numb where his ring finger was.

“Doesn't matter. It's too late.” Pestilence whispered just before disappearing.

Sam looked back to the doorway. Disapproval In his eyes. You Guys had the ring, but everyone felt defeated.

“Everyone okay?” Dean asked. The 3 of you nodded. “Alright then Let's go.”

Nobody said a word as you made your way outside.

“Hey Bobby, why don't you ride back with me and Cas?” Dean asked as he walked up to the passenger side of your truck. He gave Bobby a look then looked at you and Sam.

“Yeah,” Bobby took the hint. Dean got his chair out of the bed. “We'll see you back at the house,” Bobby yelled as Dean Wheeled him over to the impala.

You put Your guns back in the toolbox, then hopped in your truck. Sam was already sitting in the passenger Seat. You took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh, then started the truck.

“You sure you're ok?” Sam asked. You nodded. “You want me to drive?” You shook your head. “ Do you want the How could you be so stupid Lecture now or later?”

“Sam,” you said.

He continued. “ You know you could have gotten killed.”

“Sam!” You said a bit louder. He stopped talking. “ I am a grown-ass adult. I have been hunting demons and monsters Most of my life. If I want to go kick some ass I'm going to go kick some ass. I don't need you treating me like I don't know what the hell I'm doing. “ You paused. He opened his mouth but you kept Going. “ If I hadn't brought Cas here you and Dean would have died. So no, I don't think I made a stupid decision at all. And I don't think you're in a very good spot to be lecturing anyone on making stupid decisions right now.”

He closed his mouth and looked out the window. You turned Your radio on. Turn the page by Bob Seger started playing as you drove off.

Neither you nor Sam said a word on the Drive back to Bobby's. You called dibs on the shower as soon as you walked into the house. Not Stopping for approval you headed to the bathroom with your duffle bag in hand.

You thought about the ride home as the water warmed up. Maybe You were too harsh, but it's not like what you said wasn't true. The Winchesters and Bobby needed to see that you could handle your own. You weren't some delicate Little flower. And Sam was making a stupid decision. You Hurried in the shower just in case someone else wanted it. You Got dressed in sweats and a tank top. Then you twisted your damp hair up in a messy bun. Tossing your duffle in the hallway corner you made your way into the kitchen. Bobby usually had something to eat. As you searched for food you could hear the guys talking in the study.

“Chicago is about to be wiped off the map.” Bobby had your interest. You grabbed a bag of chips and leaned on the doorframe. “Storm of the millennium. Sets off a chain reaction of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die.” They all just looked at each other. Bobby explains how death is going to be there and we might have a chance to get his ring.

“Bobby, how do you know all this?” Sam asked

“I had some help.”

You could feel his presence there before he showed himself and you smelled sulfur. “Really Bobby?!” Everyone looked at you then their eyes went to Crowley. He was pouring a drink behind you.

“Don't be so modest. I barely helped at all.” Crowley picked up his drink and walked towards the Doorway. “Hello, boys.”

He turned to you and eyed you up and down.

“Hello, darling.” He said seductively. You could literally feel Sam’s anger. You rolled your eyes at Cowley and Walked back to the kitchen to put the chips away. You turned back towards them and leaned on the counter.

Crowley walked into the study. “Go on tell them.”

“Tell us what” Sam asked.

Bobby sighed “World's ending. Why should a soul matter?”

“You sold your soul?” Dean was shocked.

“It's More like loaned it. “ Crowley said

“Did you kiss him?” Sam asked

“NO!” Bobby exclaimed

Crowley Cleared his throat and showed the Picture.

Bobby looked ashamed.

“Ok, asshole. Give him his soul back now!” Dean stood up and started towards Crowley.

“I'm sorry. I can’t.” Crowley explained. “That's my insurance. The Winchesters are notorious for killing demons and the princess back there has killed more than I can count. You three won’t kill me as long as I have his soul. I fully intend to return it once this is over and I walk away alive. Deal?”

Everyone stayed quiet. It's not like you had a choice.

You just shook your head and walked outside. It was freezing, but you were so pissed and unsettled that the cold air felt good. You started walking, but you didn't know where to go, you just needed to get away. You started thinking about everything. Bobby’s Soul. Your heart started racing. The apocalypse. Your hands started shaking. Lucifer. Your knees went weak which caused you to fall. The cage… Sam, losing Sam. Your chest became tight. You tried to take deep breaths, but your lungs were working against you. As you started gasping for air you felt arms around you.

“You're ok. I'm here. It's ok Baby. Everything is going to be ok.” Sam’s whispered trying to comfort you “Deep Breath.” he did as he told you and you copied. He squeezed you tighter. “ Again. “ you took a deep breath with him again. “Keep going.” you both did again. He started humming an Elvis song. It was helping.

Your chest loosened. Your hand stopped shaking. Your heartbeat returning to normal.

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem. You know I got you.”

“Yea.” but for how much longer? You didn't want to think about it.

“Do you wana to talk about anything?”

“Not really. I'm going to go lie down.”

He stood up. You were still in his arms. You didn't have the energy to fight. He carried you into the house. You put your hand on his neck, covering your face with your upper arm. You didn't feel like talking to anyone.

Everyone was sitting at the kitchen table. Cas and Dean stood up dismay on their faces. “Is she ok?” you heard Dean ask.

“I think she might have had a slight panic attack,” Sam explained. He continued walking. “She seems better now. I'm gonna lay her in the spare bedroom.”

“Ok let us know if we can do anything,” Bobby called out. Sam nodded as he started up the stairs.

Sam laid you on the bed. You took the wet socks off your feet and he covered you with a blanket. You rolled onto your side facing him. He sat down on the bed beside you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have called you I shouldn't have drug you into my shit.”

“Shut up Sam.” you grabbed him and pulled him down to you. He hesitated. “Samuel. I'm not ok with this whole plan, but if this is going to happen please just let me love you until you go.”

“It might just make it harder.”

“It's going kill me either way. Please?” you pleaded.

He gave in and laid down pulling you beside him. You laid half of your body on him with your head on his chest. “Ya know it's not just hard on you. I finally got you and now I’m going to jump into hell.”

You leaned your head up to look at his face. “So don't do it.”

He kissed your lips. “I'm sorry. You know I can't do that.”

You nuzzled your head back down on his chest. He was so brave, so heroic, he was putting everyone else before his happiness. You couldn't be mad at him for that. Those were some of the reasons you loved him. “I know babe. I know.” you closed your eyes. Listening to his heartbeat you drifted off to sleep.

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Dean was getting the Impala ready. Sam walked up and leaned on the side of it with a heavy sigh.

Dean leaned around the trunk, “Let me guess, we’re about to have a talk?”

“Look, Dean, I agree with you. You think I’m too weak to take on Lucifer. So do I. I know I’m a screw-up. You, Bobby, (y/n), Cas. I’m the least outta all of us.”

“Sam.”

“It’s True. And if there was another way I'd do it in a heartbeat. I don’t want to leave you guys and I do not want to hurt her again, but I don't think there's another way.”

“Annnnd scene.” Crowley was standing on the other side of the impala. “There's something you need to see.”

Sam read the headline Crowley pointed at. It was about the swine flu outbreak and how Niveus Pharmaceuticals was releasing a vaccine on Wednesday. Crowley helped them put together that Niveus was run by demons and the vaccine they were releasing was full of the Croatoan virus.

“Eh. Quite a plan.” Sam said

“So you boys better stock up on uh everything because come next Thursday we will be living in Zombieland,” Crowley remarked.

“Fucking great,” Dean said irate.

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Part 2

#sam winchester #sam and dean #sam x reader #spn reader insert #sam x femreader #sam fanfic #supernatural fic #fluff and angst #spn #supernatural #spnfandom #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural sam #supernatural sam winchester #sammy winchester #the winchester brothers

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