#Sam winchester x ofc

[castielscaplan]

Misery in My Heart

Summary: Sam confronts you when he assumes you're sleeping with his brother.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, (but not really), angst, happy ending, miscommunication

WC: 1,088 Words!

Read on Ao3!

--

You could feel Sam's eyes on you. It had been happening for the last couple of days, ever since you started spending more time with Dean. You had to admit, there was something easy about the way Dean made you laugh, the way his presence seemed to make everything a little less heavy. It had been a few long weeks on the road with the Winchesters, and you just needed someone to talk to. You needed someone who understood the weight of what you all did—someone who could crack a joke to lift your spirits when it seemed like the world was falling apart.

But Sam... Sam hadn’t taken kindly to it.

You didn’t understand it at first. He was your partner in this fight, your friend, the person who had been with you through thick and thin. So why was it that whenever you spent time with Dean, Sam started pulling away? Why did he look at you like you were doing something wrong, like you were betraying him? It didn’t make sense.

The tension in the air was thick, suffocating. Every time you walked into a room, Sam’s gaze would immediately narrow. His posture would stiffen, his shoulders tensing as if preparing for something. The distance between you two felt like an insurmountable wall, and the more you tried to bridge it, the farther he seemed to pull away.

You tried to shake it off, telling yourself that maybe he was just having a bad day, that maybe the weight of hunting and the constant danger was getting to him. But as the days wore on, you couldn’t ignore it any longer.

It was that night when it all came to a head. Dean was sitting at the table, flipping through some old lore book, while you were on the couch, trying to relax after a long day. Sam had been in and out of the room, pacing, avoiding eye contact with you. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

"Sam," you called out gently, hoping to break the tension. "Are we okay? You’ve been... distant."

He stopped in his tracks, his jaw tightening at your words. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, his eyes flicked to Dean, who was completely oblivious, too focused on the book in front of him to notice the storm brewing in Sam’s eyes.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Dean lately," Sam said, his voice colder than you’d ever heard it.

You blinked in confusion, wondering where this was going. "Yeah, we’ve just been talking, Sam. You know, just... having some down time. We’ve all been through a lot lately."

Sam’s eyes darkened. "You think I don’t notice, [Y/N]? I see how you look at him. The way you laugh at his jokes. The way you two seem so comfortable together." He stepped forward, his fists clenching. "I can’t believe you’d do this."

You froze, your stomach dropping as realization hit. "Sam, what are you talking about?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"I’m talking about you two!" he snapped. "You’ve been sneaking around behind my back, haven’t you? Spending time with him, laughing with him, while I’m over here trying to hold it all together, trying to keep things from falling apart, and you—"

"Sam!" you cut him off, standing up abruptly, your heart pounding in your chest. "I’m not cheating on you. I’m not doing anything behind your back! You’ve been acting like I’m doing something wrong, and I don’t know why. I’ve been talking to Dean, yes, but that’s it."

Sam’s eyes narrowed, the hurt in them cutting through you like a knife. "So, you expect me to believe that? After everything we’ve been through? You think I’m just going to sit here and pretend it’s nothing? It’s obvious, [Y/N]. You two have something. I can see it."

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as your chest tightened with the weight of his accusations. "No, Sam," you said, your voice soft but firm. "We don’t have anything. Dean’s my friend, just like you are. But you... you’ve been acting like I’m doing something wrong. Why are you so jealous? Why do you think I’d ever hurt you like that?"

Sam didn’t respond right away. His gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his own doubts was too much for him to carry. "I don’t know," he admitted quietly. "I just... I saw you two laughing together, and it made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I was losing you."

Your heart shattered at his words. You took a few steps closer, your voice gentle now, trying to ease the hurt that had been building between you. "Sam, you’ll never lose me. You’re not losing me to Dean, or to anyone else. You’re the one I want. You’ve always been the one I want."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with pain, confusion, and regret. "I’m sorry," he muttered, his voice breaking. "I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve known better than to let my jealousy get in the way of us. I just... I didn’t want to lose you."

You took his hand gently in yours, squeezing it softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You haven’t lost me, Sam. You won’t. But you have to trust me. You have to trust that I’m not going anywhere. That what I feel for you is real, and I’m not going to hurt you."

For a moment, Sam didn’t respond. Then, slowly, he nodded, his hand tightening around yours as if grounding himself in the reality of your words.

"I’m sorry," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "I let my fears get the best of me."

You shook your head, lifting his chin so he’d meet your gaze. "It’s okay, Sam. We’ll work through it. But you have to talk to me. You can’t keep everything bottled up inside."

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he nodded again. "I know. I’ll do better. I’ll trust you."

You smiled softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. "We’re in this together. Always."

Sam leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. "I don’t deserve you."

"Maybe not," you said with a teasing smile, "but you have me anyway."

He chuckled lightly, his eyes finally warming as he pulled you into a gentle hug. And in that moment, you both knew that no matter how messy things got, you could always find your way back to each other.

--

//Please don't hesitate to reblog! //

[starrylanex]

please please please send some asks about sammy;) doesn’t necessarily have to be fic requests just give me something to yap about him🤭🤭

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Samnesia by PrincessMisery666 [PodFic Version]

Podfic Time – Samnesia (Prologue and Chapter 1)

Are you ready for a legit romance with all the fluff, angst, hurt/comfort… and a smattering of smut, with one Sam Winchester?

The care and time @princessmisery666 spent on this beautifully crafted story are evident right from the start. It checks all the boxes for me regarding a great romance with a happily ever after. 

Run to read this fic here if you haven't already!

~ Sandra

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Smile

Rated: Gen (Fluffy)

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader (gender neutral)

A/N: i finally wrote something!! Comments welcome!

Sam looks over his shoulder to find Y/N sitting at the one of the library tables, cheek in her fist, barely a profile seen, as they lazily flipped through pages of a tomb. He walks over to them watching their face as he goes unnoticed.

Y/N is actually lost in thought, the desire to move as their brain processes whatever is on their mind.

Tall, lithe Sam in his usual jeans a flannel stands next to their chair, commanding them, “Stop thinking that.”

Flinching, Y/N looks up at him confused and almost squeaks, “What?”

He looks into their eyes and smiles. ��What you’re thinking about, stop.”

They open their mouth and close it, brow furrowed in continued confusion, and repeats opening and closing their mouth a few more times before slumping in the chair.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he says and with a squeal of the chair on the wooden floor, rotates them to face him. His hands on the armrests and leans down. He gets straight into their face, noses touching and rubs slightly.

A brilliant, wide and gummy smile grows upon their lips into their now bright eyes as their cheeks pinken at the small, almost shy affection.

Tag: @riley-phoenix @myloversgone

[stusbunker]

Just Another Daydream

For Better or Worst: Chapter Fourteen

Featuring: Sam x Emery Simmons-Winchester OFC

Other Characters: Naomi, Bandit (dog OC)

Season 14 AU

Word Count: 2450

Summary: Someone comes to tea.

Series Masterlist

The days chugged along with little change and less news. Summer burned bright around them, cookouts, car washes, and farmers’ markets bursting with new wares every weekend. Trudy, designer stroller in tow, passed by each morning while Emery lounged thoughtfully with Bandit in the hammock on the front porch. Jason each night with the dogs’ leashes locked on his belt as Sam pulled into the driveway, blocking the meager traffic as Mox inevitably goaded Bandit through the window. The stretching days were heavy on their thoughts, which were kept mostly to themselves.

The break between semesters held little diversion for Emery, especially as Sam continued a work-week routine. Days that had been spent with video game marathons, reading lakeside, or being lost in a museum during her past life held little validation now. The once upon a time when her daily schedule was dictated by Georgie’s smile was unimaginable now. Usually the biggest perk of teaching; weeks of freedom, now only reverberated the quiet like a vacated room, emptied of purpose.

She forced herself to ignore it.

Sam had no idea what they were going to do. They waited on news from Cas, while Sam spent half of his working hours digging through the university’s limited source material. Though the digitally shared archive network was compelling, his searches remained fruitless for their current circumstances. Which wasn’t surprising, theirs was a perfect storm of unprecedented desperation. The weight of it all (the deals, Emery’s son’s soul and Dean’s mental state) was forging him into someone he didn’t quite recognize. Functionally and consciously closed off from those he loved, Sam Winchester was relearning what loneliness meant.

An aching Sam told himself he was justified in sticking his heels into.

Though he and Emery hadn’t stopped sharing a room, Sam generally slept in the den. Emery kept to her side of their bed when he came through for his clothing each morning. The space left open a reminder of the man he could have been for her. The man he almost was. The lie he had lived and had to overcome. It hadn’t gotten any easier being in their manner of partnership with their truths exposed; mix-matched baggage that only seemed to clutter the proverbial waiting room more. 

Western real estate was of little consequence to angels in general, but Naomi prided herself on the procurement of the fully updated bungalow that had been home to Sam Winchester and Emery Simmons for the past seven months. She was oddly relieved by the level of care they had taken to maintain it as she climbed the front steps one Wednesday afternoon, just before three. The dog, naturally, announced her arrival before she could knock.

Naomi straightened her shoulders and tried to calm her vessel. She wasn’t used to delivering messages to those on Earth, not that this was a grand proclamation. But overseeing the frail structure of Heaven had slowly eroded her previous righteous confidence. She still had a job to do; Naomi needed to be certain her ducks were in a row. 

The woman’s face fell the moment she opened the door, eyes aghast and chest rising with a deep inhale. Naomi wasn’t sure if fear was the appropriate response to her arrival, but humans had always been overly dramatic. 

“Good afternoon, Emery. I hope I’m not interrupting,” Naomi gave her her best mild interest.

Emery swallowed and shook her head. “Not at all, come in.”

“Thank you,” Naomi replied, bowing her head slightly as she stepped through the doorway.

“I made some sun tea, if you’d like?” Emery continued to breathe deeply, and she tripped over  the syllables.

“That sounds lovely, thank you.” Naomi smiled, trying to keep up the human pleasantries, before easing into business at hand. She followed Emery to the back of the house where a large glass pitcher waited on the kitchen island. The dog groaned from beside the refrigerator at her presence, Naomi eyed him thoughtfully. Canines were incredibly intuitive creatures, but generally left for the humans to manage. She had never understood their appeal.

“So, are you just passing through? Or is there something I should be worried about nearby?” Emery attempted humor, “Got some smiting happening? Oooo, or maybe a miracle? Is that your department?”

Naomi bit her tongue and plastered on a reassuring smile. Emery froze on the spot.

“What’s wrong?”

Naomi shook her head, keeping her expression soft, pleasant even. “I stopped by to check on things here.”

They sat at the island, a stool between them for companionable distance. Emery clutched her glass and forced a smile on her face. “Good, I mean, I’m a bit bored in the summer, but things have been--- good. Why do you ask?”

Naomi hesitated, but not long enough to draw out any alarm, just enough to gather her thoughts. “There have been some--- developments--- and I wanted to ensure that things here are stable and unencumbered.”

Emery tried to hold back her excitement. “What kind of developments?”

Naomi looked at Emery like she would her students, asking questions they should know the answer to already or those she couldn’t give them. “Sources have located your son and we are monitoring him through a network, but it appears he has been taken in by a pack.”

Emery froze, skin prickling in the dry afternoon air. Months with nothing and this news should be a blessing, but it just sits lopsided on the desktop of her mind. Sam’s distrust of Heaven fights against her relief at Georgie's safety and then the reality that her son has been adopted by another family. A family who is not her, afterlife or no, that burns through her, jealousy certainly, but also the deep unfaltering need to protect her own. That’s her job.

“A pack.”

Naomi really tried to be delicate, but she didn’t have the humanity to be. “Purgatory is a land of viciousness. The fact that he was taken in by some of his own kind gives him the best chance at survival.”

Survival. Emery could still lose Georgie. She could fail him further. “Oh. That’s--- okay, thank you. That makes more sense.”

“It’s hard for you--- without your powers,” Naomi tells her more than asks.

Bandit shifts on the floor, tags brushing against the laminate. Emery scoffs.

“I know you want to see what I’m telling you, but you need to trust me. It’s safer this way.”

‘You’re safer this way’ Emery couldn’t help but think. Brushing away the internal snark, she softened her face and nodded at Naomi. “Of course. Whatever I can do to help.”

Bandit stood and stretched, disrupting the intensity of the conversation as he strolled out of the kitchen and down into the den. Naomi sipped her tea, nose scrunching under the chemical combination that made up the drink. Emery looked away, taking her own drink to blatantly taste it for herself. Perfect.

“Emery, how’s Sam?”

Emery chokes on her swallow. Naomi’s stare only deepens.

Sam stepped out of the side exit and nearly collided with a pair of students vaping in the seclusion between buildings and the well trimmed bushes. The mid afternoon sun nearly blinding, Sam cleared his throat and turned in the opposite direction, keeping his thoughts and annoyance to himself. There weren’t that many summer courses, why were they even hanging around this late in the day? He straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath and upped his pace, taking the long way around to the parking lot. His arms full of books and notes, his satchel heavy at his side, he approached the car. Sam didn’t stop himself from glancing in the backseat with lingering hope of news from Cas.

Hot from the workday, Sam aired out the vehicle as he put his things in the backseat. He chose to work from home for the rest of the week, unable to gain any more information on the spell or the concept of true marriage that Cas had mentioned at the library. What he wouldn’t give to have his real books to comb through. Or, the Men of Letters’ books at least. Sam huffed at himself because he knew Dean would have teased him for that notion. It made the hole inside his chest throb with remembrance, with purpose.

He rubbed his hand down his bearded face and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Bandit wasn’t in the yard to greet him. Sam brushed off the prickle of paranoia and reminded himself that he was home earlier than usual. Overburdened, Sam walked in the backdoor, but it wasn’t until he heard voices speaking in hushed tones that he realized his instincts were right. Sam carefully unloaded his research materials onto the dryer and listened. Silently, Bandit found him, forlorn the dog accepted his pets and gave a lackluster wag of his tail. With a deep breath and a wrench from the toolbox left in the mudroom, Sam walked into the kitchen.

What he saw confused him: Emery smirking at Naomi, a plate of cookies between them and a tension so thick he could have hit with his impromptu weapon. 

“Speak of the Devil,” Emery teased, eyes wide, but smile still intact.

“I’d rather not,” Naomi muttered, tossing back the last of her tea.

Sam’s face and reasoning went through a journey, landing on confused, yet comical indignation. Was he supposed to know that jab was literal? Does Naomi know he knows who he is? The topic of Lucifer is never Sam’s favorite. But, now, he had a guest in his house. Good thing he used to lie professionally. Sam begrudgingly set the futile wrench on the counter behind the speaker dock, out of view.

“Hey! I didn’t realize you were coming over.” Sam looked to his wife as he walked around the island, planting himself in her bubble and playing nice. “What brings you?”

Naomi, clearly surprised by Sam’s warm welcome, chewed on her words.

Sam continued, arm draping over Emery’s shoulders. “I know I’m home early, but Emery didn’t mention you were in town. I’m not intruding on work talk, am I?”

The moment lengthened as Sam tried to pull up more of the false memories he had been fed. Emery and Naomi looked at each other with mutual suspicion. 

Emery laughed, patting Sam’s forearm, unable to clear the awkwardness. “You! We were, um, actually talking about you. Were your ears burning?”

Sam raised his eyebrows, taking time to tuck Emery tighter to his side. “All good things I hope?”

Emery spoke to Sam in the little alcove created by their proximity, both very aware of each other in an immediate and physical sense. “Now why would we be saying good things? That’s much too boring.”

Sam understood. “Uh-huh, well I should have known,” the tease in the inflection for their guest only. He held Emery’s eyes, squeezing her arm to reassure her the only way he could.

“You seem to be adjusting well,” Naomi interrupted their pretense of flirting. Meanwhile, Bandit slumped off to the den, feeling his people were safe enough to be left alone.

“What? Oh-- the house? Yeah, wasn’t too hard, helps to have somebody to help fill the space with,” Sam replied casually. “Bandit is an awesome roommate.”

Emery elbowed Sam. 

“What?! He is.”

Emery shook her head and muttered threats at her husband.

“I was just stopping by to check on things. Make sure you are both on track,” Naomi continued, eyes boring into the side of Sam’s face.

He turned towards the Angel, dawning confusion apparent on his features. “Is there something we should be doing?”

Naomi glanced at Emery in wistful solidarity. Sam was internally vibrating with the need to act, outside he was nearly playful. If Emery hadn’t lived with him as long as she had, she wouldn’t have been able to notice it, but his smirk was more hostile than she liked.

“You should be showering, stinky!” Emery teased. “We’re just catching up. Go on, seriously, I’ll be here when you’re presentable for dinner, young man.”

Naomi watched the humans with mild amusement, they seemed so oblivious to everything, and yet she knew what they each were capable of. She couldn’t leave without ensuring the bond was secure. She waited, watching them verbally dance around the topic at hand and through the need for personal hygiene around guests. Emery won and Sam, in mock defeat, left them to continue.

“I never thought I’d see the day when a Winchester was housebroken,” Naomi said with a hint of admiration in her tone. “Nonetheless, I want to make it clear to you, if anything happens on your end, the whole thing will fall apart. And not just your deals, with George and Dean, but Heaven itself. Keep him on his leash, or we all lose.”

Emery exhaled and looked to the stairs, where she knew Sam was still listening in, despite the shower running in their bathroom. “I don’t know what you did, Naomi. But Sam’s been… different. It’s like he was never a hunter at all. If there is a kink in the wire, it isn’t from Sam--- or me.”

Naomi bit her tongue, literally injuring her vessel as the news of Sam’s mangled memories sunk in. She knew something was off, but she didn’t know who to blame for it now. It seemed convenient, too convenient. She smiled, terrifyingly rapt, “I see. Let’s keep it that way, shall me?”

Emery agreed. The pretense of tea and cookies long over, Naomi stood. With what little niceties Emery had left, she followed the Angel back out the front door. Bandit had silently returned to their heels.

“I’ll be in touch, but if anything comes up or if Sam starts acting like himself again, call me?” Naomi produced a business card from her inside breast pocket. 

Emery took it without breaking eye contact. “I will. And I hope you will honor your promises as well.”

Naomi’s bright eyes clouded in anger. “I stand by my word. Make sure you do the same.”

Emery watched her march down the steps and back onto the sidewalk. It was oddly gratifying to watch a wingless Angel resort to human modes of transportation. Slowly she backed into the house and closed the door before bolting up the stairs to talk to Sam. She rounded the corner into their bedroom and was stopped with two large hands encasing her shoulders.

Sam looked down at her with a stern silence. Scared, Emery glanced up at him, almost in shame. She opened her mouth to speak, but Sam carefully shook his head. He tapped his watch. And she knew he was right. She nodded in agreement, yet still terrified.

The time had come.

Tell me what you think!

It’s been so long, I’m not tagging anyone.

[princessmisery666]

Samnesia - Chapter 10 - Magical (end)

Series Summary: Brooke is a calming distraction from the chaotic mess of Sam’s life. When a hunt keeps them separated for over a month, Sam returns to find she no longer remembers him. The need to find out what happened while he was gone sends Sam on a case that will change the course of his life. What he discovers along the way will change the way he looks at love.

Chapter Info

Summary: Now: Sam has to decide how much he wants Brooke to remember. Is it too much of a risk to have her remember everything? 

W/C: 4.3k

Warnings: mostly fluff, a bit of angst, happy ending.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Original Female Character (Brooke), other OC’s, Dean Winchester, Rowena MacLeod.

Extra special shoutout to: @slytherkins - this would not have been possible without her input, she deserves co-write credits.

Beta: @deanwinchesterswitch

Graphics: @talesmaniac89

A/N: This is it. The end. I'm sad that it's come to an end but so excited to have it out there. Thank you to everyone who has been reading either silently and/or commenting 💓🤩

Previous Chapter

Now

Dean had taken it upon himself to distract Brooke while Rowena did her thing, claiming to want to show her all the cool things the Men of Letters had accumulated over the years so Sam could focus on Rowena and her spell.

Sam was grateful Brooke wouldn’t have to ingest anything to break the curse. The potion Rowena was brewing did not look appetizing and smelled like the wrong end of a hellhound. Though, was there a right end to a hellhound?

Rowena sighed, and Sam saw the agitation in her eyes and pursed lips. “Everything okay?” 

“While I am the best at what I do,” she explained, “memory spells are tricky at best. And though I enjoy the company of a strapping young lad such as yourself from time to time, you hovering over me like an oversized hawk is a wee bit distracting.” 

“Sorry,” he said and moved from perching over her shoulder to a seat on the other side of the table. “It’s been a tough few weeks. I just need this done.”

For a moment, she looked sympathetic, but Sam knew it wasn’t for his weariness. “It’s almost done,” she said, picking up a vial of yellow flakes and tipping its contents into the bowl. “So what do you have to be so sullen about?”

“Not sure you noticed, but I burned down my girlfriend's house.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, feeling the three days’ worth of growth on his cheeks. He’d had more important things to worry about than shaving, but he wondered how disheveled he looked.

Rowena tsked. “Now, you know that's not strictly true. It isn’t as if you set a match to it yourself.” 

“But if I hadn't tried to remove the ring-”

“Samuel, how could you have possibly known that that would happen? I have no doubt that even Malakai was surprised by that turn of events, and he cast the cursed spell. Beating yourself up over it isn't going to do anyone any good. Better to pour that energy into doing what we can to right the situation.”

“You're right. It's just hard to shake this guilt.”

“Perhaps, but even harder is deciding what to do next.”

“What do you mean? We lift the curse, right?” He frowned, worrying he’d missed something off the list that would delay the process. Sitting forward, he fretted, “Did I forget something?” 

“No, no,” she assured him, “my instructions were very specific, and you followed them to the letter.”

Sam’s relief was palpable. The thought of having to wait any longer was unbearable.

“But you have a decision to make, Samuel,” Rowena continued solemnly. “I can restore all of her memories and allow her to keep the ones she’s made since this unfortunate situation began, or I can be very specific about what she remembers.” 

“I want her to remember all of it,” Sam said. 

“I’m sure you do, my dear,” she smiled sadly, “but being associated with a Winchester is dangerous business. Having one love you has proven to be fatal on many occasions. As a consequence, I think you should fully consider all the possibilities before you make a final decision.” 

“I want…” He hesitated, then almost to himself, as a reminder, “Messing with memories is dangerous.”

“It is extremely dangerous,” Rowena agreed when his silence dragged on. “That’s why you need to make sure your decision, whatever it may be, is made for the right reasons. So, I’ll ask again.” She lowered her voice and spoke deliberately, “How much do you want her to remember?” 

Sam scrubbed a hand down his face, considering the witch’s warning, but was startled by the broken sound of Brooke’s voice when she said his name from the doorway. 

“Sam?” 

He whipped around on his seat to see her eyes filled with tears, and it was clear she’d heard enough that his hesitation was distressing. 

“Brooke, I…” He was on his feet and chasing after her before she’d completely turned to walk away. “Brooke, wait.” 

“I can’t believe you're even considering it,” she snapped over her shoulder. “After everything.” 

Sam’s longer legs allowed him to gain ground on her, and he managed to step into her path. She shoved at his chest, but he refused to move, and she let out a frustrated growl. 

“You’re mad at Tommy for messing with me, and here you are considering doing the exact same thing.” 

“I hesitated,” Sam admitted, “because there was a lot to consider, but-”

She interrupted him, indignation and hurt caught in her throat. “But what? You and everyone else get to decide what happens to me, but I don’t get a say in it?”

“That’s not what-” 

“I get it. You needed a distraction from everything. Something, anything normal. But now what?” Her tears finally fell freely, and Sam’s heart ached as he thumbed them away, but she continued. “The illusion is over, and I can’t be your distraction, so you’re just done with me? How is that-” 

Sam interrupted her by cupping her face and drawing her to his mouth. She resisted for half a second, not quite ready to let go of her offense. But she allowed him to pull her closer, and his kiss seemed to mend the wounds his hesitation had caused.

“You’re not a distraction, Brooke. And even if we spent a million lifetimes together, I’d never be done with you. I don’t know how this works now, how we move forward, or even if we can,” he said, uncertainty and worry washing through him like a cold sweat. “And you’re right, this decision should be yours, but if you don’t hesitate in making it, I’d be worried that you don’t fully understand what it is you're signing up for.”

“I do,” she said, but her voice was small and uncertain. She cleared her throat and spoke with more conviction. “I do, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me a little, too.” She shied from his gaze with a light blush. “I don’t have all my memories, but I have all the information.” She looked at him again, giving him the most resolved smile he’d ever seen on her, “And I know how I feel.”

If Sam knew anything, it was that time should never be considered a luxury. He had to take every moment for what it was, and although she hadn’t said the words, he knew what she meant. 

“I also know how I feel, and that’s why I hesitated. There’re no more illusions. You’ve seen behind the curtain, and I still want you here, but maybe that’s selfish of me. Now you know exactly who we are and what we do. You've seen the kinds of people and forces we encounter. How dangerous they can be. Hell, all this,” he lifted her hand, so she looked at her ring, “this was someone’s idea of fun. So you’ve seen how they won't hesitate to go after the ones we love. You and me? A relationship like this? This is something I didn't allow myself for a long time. Perhaps, I shouldn't have allowed it this time.”

Her face crumpled, “Don’t say that.”

“I don’t regret a second of us,” said Sam, cupping her cheek, and she nuzzled into the warmth of his hand, her eyes slipping to a close. He couldn’t help but draw her closer to softly kiss her lips. “The only people Dean and I allow close to us are already in this life, and even they don't always escape the acquaintance unscathed. To be with me, you’re putting yourself and your loved ones at risk. No matter how we feel, how truly head over heels in love with you I am, it’s something we have to consider. We'll do everything in our power to protect you and your family and friends, but I need you to be sure that this, and everything that comes with it, is what you truly want.”

“Did you forget my family is all law enforcement?” she asked, her brow cocked. “I know it’s not the same, I know there’s more risk involved, but I’m no stranger to having to look over my shoulder. But no risk, no reward, right?”

He gave her a brief smile. “But you need to make a fully informed and carefully considered decision that it’s worth it.” He sighed heavily, the next part wasn’t as easy to say, but it had to be said. “I want you to be sure I’m worth it.”

She rose to the tips of her toes and kissed him, chaste but firm. “My memories may be fractured, but I know - without a shadow of a doubt - in here,” she said, taking his hand and placing his palm flat over her heart, “that you are. Sam, I lo-” 

“Wait,” he said, harsher than he intended. “Don’t say it, not yet. Can you wait until after we break the curse? So I know that it’s real.”

She smiled sweetly but shook her head. “Memories or not, it won’t change how I feel. You feel like home, and I love you, Sam.”

He kissed her again, the confidence in her statement cleansing him of his remaining anxiety. He slipped his arm around her waist, and just as he pulled her flush against him, Dean cleared his throat, interrupting them. 

“Sorry, guys,” he said, “but it’s time.”

Brooke watched Rowena with nervous fascination, as did Tommy. The bowl in front of her sizzled like a skillet, but when Brooke peered over, nothing moved inside. The purple, vaporous substance glittered under the light but was otherwise still.

Rowena turned to Brooke with a small smile, holding out her hands. “Are you ready, my dear?” 

Brooke swallowed thickly and stepped forward, giving Rowena her trembling hands. She wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to do, but she was willing to do whatever was asked of her.

“While I respect your wish to keep all of your memories, old and new, you must understand that leaving everyone else unaffected could prove to be…problematic,” Rowena explained. “Your family and friends won’t remember things exactly how they happened after the curse was put in place. They won’t remember your relationship with Thomas.” She pursed her lips and shot a dangerous glare at him before turning a sweet smile back at Brooke. “I thought it best they simply think you were busy with your new beau, Samuel. They’ll perhaps scold you for letting him take up so much of your time, but ultimately, they’ll just be happy you found someone.” 

“And my house?” asked Brooke, following Rowena’s gaze to Sam. 

He gave her a tight smile. “They’ll think it was faulty wiring,” he said and dropped his eyes.

“Okay,” nodded Brooke, “let’s do this.”

“I’m going to add the last ingredient, and when I do, the contents of the bowl will illuminate and look much like flame,” Rowena explained, “but I promise it will not burn you. The ring must pass through this fire, and as it’s stuck to your hand, well… You should feel a slight tingling sensation, is all. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Okay,” said Brooke, throwing a panicked look at Sam. He nodded, giving her a crooked half-smile.

“You can trust her.”

“Ow!” Tommy yelped, and Brooke turned back to see Rowena holding a few freshly plucked strands of his hair. 

She dropped the strands into the bowl, and there was a blinding white light. Brooke jumped back, afraid of being burnt despite Rowena’s assurances. She watched the purple flames dance, and for a moment, she thought she saw an image of her and Sam flicker across them, but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. 

“Brooke,” said Sam softly. She didn’t have the words to reply, there was a literal magic flame swaying in front of her, and she was supposed to put her hand in it. She sensed rather than saw Sam step up beside her, but when he took her hand, the trance was broken, and she peered up at him. 

“We can do it together,” he offered, then quickly looked to Rowena as if to ask if that was okay. The witch nodded, and the small gesture cured Brooke of her residual apprehension.

Sam let her lead, and she took a hesitant step forward. Slowly, she lifted their joined hands, drawing closer to the moving magic, still expecting to feel an unnatural heat at any moment.

“Wait,” he called a second before the violet flame licked their skin. She gazed up at him, panic in her features, which Sam smoothed away with a hand on her cheek. “If something goes wrong-” 

Rowena tutted, but Sam continued as if she hadn’t. 

“-I need you to know I love you.”

She tiptoed to capture his mouth with her own, and at the same moment, she threw their hands into the blaze. Her hand tingled as Rowena said it would, and as it crept higher up her arm, Sam broke the kiss. Brooke’s vision distorted, but she could still discern his concerned frown. Before she could ask if something was wrong, she heard Rowena say, “Dean, be a dear and help your brother catch her.”

Then, everything faded to black. 

Sam chewed the wick of his thumbnail, keeping vigil beside Brooke’s bed. Her eyes darted under her lids, and her body jerked intermittently. Rowena assured him it was expected, but it did little to calm him. Brooke hadn’t regained consciousness, and it had been almost two hours.

She didn’t look comfortable. Her fists clenched around the bedsheets, and her brow was set in a deep frown. She looked as if she were having a vivid dream, and Sam hoped, perhaps selfishly, that it involved everything she’d forgotten. He whispered reassurances to her, willing her to wake up. He wanted to uncoil her fist and kiss the tension away from her rigid digits, but he feared touching her would cause some unforeseen complication.

“I’m right here, Brooke,” said Sam.

A wave of nausea curdled in his stomach. What if, when her memories were once again intact, she wouldn’t want him to be there?

Dean cleared his throat from the doorway, and it startled Sam, but not enough that he took his eyes off Brooke. 

“No change?”

Sam shook his head, “Nothing.”

“I took Tommy back to his family,” Dean reported, “douchebag even thanked me. I stayed long enough to watch Brooke’s brother and his band of merry men show up to arrest him.”

Sam had given Brett all the non-supernatural information he’d gathered on Tommy when he’d dropped Brooke off at his house the night before. The evidence of his stalking was indisputable, even if Brett had been suspicious of Sam. 

“Let’s hope the justice system does what it’s supposed to.” 

“Oh, I think it will,” said Dean. “And if not, some other system will. He was shouting about magic and witches while they bundled him into the car. He’ll be in a big white room before sunrise.”

Sam scoffed, “I guess Rowena let him keep all his memories, too. Good.”

Brooke’s hitched breathing was the only sound for a moment. Sam heard Dean approach but didn’t look up.

He felt Dean’s hand on his shoulder, and Sam heaved a sigh. “Please don’t give me a lecture right now.”

“No lecture,” Dean said, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze, “but the easy part is over, Sammy. Now the hard part starts, figuring out how you move forward together.”

“We’ll work it out,” Sam said confidently, “Too much has happened for us not to.” 

“I know,” said Dean, just as Brooke omitted a small groan.

“Brooke,” Sam said, taking her hand in his own.

Her eyes fluttered open, but she quickly scrunched them closed again and covered them with her free hand. “Ow,” she moaned. In a whisper, “My head hurts.” 

“Rowena said you’d probably have a pressure headache for a few days,” Sam explained in a hushed voice, “undoing the spell means we’ve overloaded you with information. You’ll need a couple of days to recover fully.”

“I’ll get you some aspirin,” Dean said, backing out of the room.

Brooke pouted, groaning as she wriggled her hand free from Sam’s grasp to rub small circles on her temples. “Ow, ow, ow,” she whimpered, “my skin hurts too. Is that normal? Like a tingling sensation.” 

“I don’t know,” he said, “I’ve never been in this situation before.” She continued to massage her temples, but her face remained scrunched with pain. “Why don’t you try and sleep?” 

“Sleep sounds good.” Her voice was already drowsy. “But only if you stay with me.”

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

She stretched her arm out, blindly searching for him, and he gave her his hand. “You’re too far away,” she whined, tugging him closer as she scooted over in the bed to make room for him.

His smile beamed as he slipped his arm under her neck, and she snuggled closer to him, throwing her leg over his hip. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he muttered, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said, but her voice sounded far away like she was already half-asleep. Her steady breathing tickled the base of his throat, and Sam closed his eyes, content to just lay with her while she fell asleep, buoyant in the knowledge that she was free of the curse and hadn’t asked him to leave. 

Suddenly, she gasped and pulled back. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Sam. 

“I love you,” Brooke blurted as if the thought had only just occurred to her.

Sam’s heart might have actually jumped to his throat. Now that he knew she remembered everything, he could trust the truth of it.

Still, she seemed so surprised by her own statement that it made him a little uncomfortable. “Is that a problem?” he chuckled.

She edged closer to him, her lips brushing his when she said, “Absolutely not.”

The day had been perfect, despite crying on at least four occasions. Brooke’s heart was full, and it was impossible to stop herself from smiling. From across the large room decorated in white and autumn oranges, she observed her friends dancing with the bride. At the bar were her mother, Brianna, and father, Brian, talking to Sam and Dean. Her mother’s smile was just as big as Brooke’s had been all day, and her father shook Dean’s hand with his other clasped on his shoulder. She knew without being able to hear the conversation that Brian was thanking Dean for helping catch Tommy in the same sincere, enthusiastic way he’d thanked Sam.

The unfortunate house fire must have been mentioned, as she glimpsed that distant flash of guilt on Sam’s face. She had yet to completely convince him that she didn’t blame him, that she thought it was almost romantic that their love for one another was so strong it literally set something ablaze. Granted, it had only been a month, and the insurance company was dragging its feet with the payout, so it was still a sore subject.

Brett stepped into her line of sight, interrupting her view. “Hey, Baby Bee,” he said, offering her a glass of champagne before standing beside her.

“Hey, Big Bee,” she smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “Feel like a husband yet?”

He chuckled, “Absolutely, and I have to say, it’s a pretty damn good feeling.”

They touched their glasses together in a toast and took a small sip in unison, Brooke never taking her eyes off Sam. This had been the exact scene she’d wanted to see play out since her birthday, Sam being greeted by everyone with familiar and welcoming hugs. Well, perhaps not everyone. Chris had been glaring daggers at him most of the day, but Brooke had been able to ignore it, and Sam didn’t seem at all fazed by it, but he relaxed more when Dean arrived.

Sam had been Brooke’s plus one, and Brett had insisted that Dean join them for the evening celebrations as a thank-you for his role in capturing Tommy.

“You look happy,” Brett said, breaking her contented daze, watching Sam and her Dad talking animatedly.

“I am.”

“I gotta say, I was worried for a minute there,” he admitted, and it was that which made her take her attention from Sam to look at her brother. “Taking off for a couple of weeks with a guy you’d just met. That’s not like you.” 

That had been the easiest lie to tell. After all, it was a half-truth, Brett and the rest of her family believed she’d found out about the stalking, and though her relationship with Sam was relatively new at the time, she’d stayed with him while he and Dean conducted their investigation.

She shrugged, “I guess when you know, you know.” 

“And do you know?” he asked, that brotherly protectiveness taking shape as skepticism.

“Yes, I do,” Brooke said without hesitation, turning to face him. “I know without a doubt that I’m in love with Sam, and he’s more than proven he feels the same. He makes me happy. He’s sweet, kind, funny, selfless, smart, generous, patient, and there’s not a disloyal bone anywhere in that six foot-three package of sexiness.”

Brett groaned, but his complaint was made through a smile, “Ugh, please spare me.”

“Mostly, though, he makes me feel safe.”

“I like him,” Brett declared. “He didn’t flinch when I gave him the ‘if you hurt my sister, I’ll murder you’ speech.” She rolled her eyes, and he grinned. “Seriously, I’m happy for you, Bee.” He pulled her into a tight hug. “And maybe, in a couple of years, I’ll be asking you if you feel like a wife yet.”

Brooke felt her cheeks heat up as he released her, but she raised her glass again, “A girl can dream.”

“What’re we dreaming about?” Sam asked as they swallowed the last of their drinks. 

“You,” she admitted and felt her smile grow impossibly wider.

“Excuse me,” Brett said, walking away, “I’m going to ask my wife if she’d like to dance.”

“Congratulations again,” Sam called after him before turning his attention to Brooke. “Hey,” he smiled softly, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her lips. “Have I told you that you look beautiful today?” 

“Oh, only a hundred or so times, but what’s one more?”

“You look incredibly beautiful today.”

He kissed her again, deeper this time but still appropriate for their current location. It was sweet yet frustrating, and Brooke wanted to drag him away from prying eyes and show him how beautiful she looked under her dress, too, but it was still early, and it wouldn’t have been fair to leave Dean on his own with her family.

Expecting their moment to be interrupted by the eldest Winchester at any moment, she reluctantly pulled away from Sam. “Where’s Dean?”

He rolled his eyes as he stepped to the side to give Brooke a clear view of the bar. Dean was talking to the maid of honor, Tara, and it looked as if the honor was all hers.

“Oh, thank god,” sighed Brooke, “I thought Emily was going to try her luck with him, but Tara is so much better for him.” 

“Oh, I’m sure Dean can find a way to corrupt her,” Sam chuckled. She laughed with him, their eyes locked until she started dancing on the balls of her feet. “C’mere,” he said, pulling out a chair and maneuvering her into his lap as he sat down.

“Thank you,” she muttered, “these shoes are killing me.”

They both observed the room for a moment. Brett and Olivia swayed slowly in a dance that didn’t match the beat of the song, stepping to their own personal music. Emily, Cara, and Nikki stood at the edge of the dancefloor, taking pictures. Brooke felt her smile widen, and she knew her face would ache for days to come. 

“You haven’t stopped smiling all day,” Sam observed.

“Honestly, I’m not sure I could stop if I tried,” she laughed, cheeks blushing rouge. “Because a few months ago, I snuck into a stranger's car, and it’s the best decision I ever made.”

Before Sam could respond, the DJ announced it was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. 

“Anyone who wants a chance at being the next one down the aisle should report to the dance floor right now,” DJ Backstreet shouted unnecessarily. 

Brooke watched as everyone clambered around chairs and other guests, setting drinks down so they could rush over, but Sam broke her focus. “You not going?”

She grinned mischievously. “Is that a proposal?” 

Sam scrambled for a second, and she saw his brain shortcircuit as his eyes filled with mild panic. She kissed him, nibbling his bottom lip as she pulled away, and it was enough to tell him she was simply teasing him. But he surprised her by asking, “Would you like it to be?”

She spluttered for a moment, mouth opening and closing until Sam matched her playful grin from before.

She laughed before sobering and telling him, “I wanted this.” She gestured around the room. “I planned something this grand and extravagant for my ‘big day’, no expense spared. I was, admittedly, bragging a little, but I was so excited and happy.” Her eyes involuntarily drifted toward Chris, standing beside her brother, watching the women on the dancefloor. She turned back to Sam, smiling gratefully, and his mirrored hers. “But I promise you, I’ve never been happier, felt richer, or more loved than I do when you smile at me like that.”

Slowly, they inched closer, but only a breath from connection, Sam put a hand on her cheek and held her still, leaning back slightly so he could look into her eyes. “I love you, and maybe, one day…”

“Brooke,” Emily called from across the room.

Brooke twisted in her direction, but Sam was quicker in catching her cheek with his palm and turning her to face him again. 

“No more interruptions,” he said, pressing his mouth to hers.

End.

If you made it this far, thank you 💓🤩

Master Lists: Samnesia // All The Fandoms

[castielscaplan]

Sam Winchester Drabbles & One Shots

updated May 16 2025

Main Masterlist

Requesting Rules

Buy Me a Coffee

3AM Fights || Summary: You confront Sam for cheating on you.

Letting Go || Summary: Sam doesn’t know how to love you.

Lovely Mornings || Summary: you've been feeling down lately and Sam makes you breakfast to cheer you up.

Misery in My Heart || Summary: Sam confronts you when he assumes you're sleeping with his brother.

Nobody Cares || Summary: Sam tells you you’re not important to him anymore, not when there’s a war coming.

Small Little Bundle || Summary: you watch as your husband holds your first child in his arms

[starrylanex]

I Think He Knows - Sam Winchester.

pairing- sam w. x fem!reader; summary - inspired by miss swift’s song; warnings - nothing really, lower case intended; word count - 1,4k

———

the impala's engine rumbled beneath you as the car sped down the long, empty highway. dean was behind the wheel, as usual, focused on the road ahead, while sam sat next to him in the passenger seat, flipping through a book on ancient symbols. you sat in the back, trying to keep your thoughts in check, but it was almost impossible when sam winchester was in the car, just a few feet away.

it was ridiculous, really. the way your heart picked up speed whenever he was around, the way your eyes seemed to follow his every move, even when you tried to play it cool. sam probably had no idea how he affected you. he was always so wrapped up in the hunt, in research, in the next big case.

but lately, there had been moments—fleeting glances, subtle touches, small smiles—that made you think *maybe* he knew. maybe he could feel it too, the energy between you, the way the air seemed to hum when the two of you were close. maybe he wasn't as oblivious as you thought.

as if on cue, sam glanced up, his eyes catching yours in the rearview mirror. it was just for a second, but the look sent a rush of warmth through you, making your heart skip a beat. you quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in the passing scenery, but the way his gaze lingered made it clear that you weren't the only one feeling this.

the impala slowed as dean pulled into a small, rundown motel on the outskirts of some nowhere town. "alright, this is home for the night," dean announced, killing the engine and stretching as he got out of the car.

you followed suit, grabbing your bag from the trunk and trying to ignore the fact that your hands were shaking just a little. it was ridiculous how much sam affected you, how just being around him turned you into a bundle of nervous energy.

"two rooms," dean said, tossing you and sam each a key. "guess it's you and me tonight, sammy. sweetheart, you're on your own."

you felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment at dean's words. relief because you needed some space to collect yourself, but disappointment because part of you had hoped—well, maybe more than part of you—that you and sam would end up sharing a room.

"sounds good," sam said, though his eyes flickered toward you as he spoke, like maybe he wasn't entirely happy with the arrangement either.

the three of you made your way inside, and after a quick exchange of goodnights, you found yourself in your small, dimly lit room. the bed was lumpy, the walls were thin, and the air smelled faintly of stale cigarettes, but you didn't care. all you could think about was the way sam had looked at you back in the car, the way his gaze had lingered just a little too long.

you sighed, flopping down onto the bed and staring up at the cracked ceiling. this was getting out of hand. if you didn't do something soon, you were going to drive yourself crazy wondering if sam felt the same way you did.

meanwhile, while you dwelled in your thoughts, in the room next door, a soft ‘ow’ was heard as a brunette hunter brought a hand up to back of his head and massaged it a little, “dean what the hell,”

“you are an idiot, thats what” dean says, dropping his bag next to his bed and going down with it.

“i have no idea what you are talking about” sam mutters, glancing away from his brother’s narrowed eyes.

“have no idea my ass,” dean presses on, “if you dont do anything about your girl, someone else will and dont give me that ‘i have no idea what you are talking about’ crap again, or i swear” dean pitches up his voice to mock sam.

sam freezes, not knowing what to say or do. because dean is right, he knows that the two of you have been having these stare offs, these moments for weeks now, and dean admitting it now, made it sound even more real than feeling like it was all in his head.

“i’ll be right back” sam says, now sounding determined. he doesn’t know what he plans on doing, but he knows he needs to get it off his chest before its too late.

a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, and your heart leaped into your throat. you knew who it was before you even answered.

when you opened the door, there stood sam, his tall frame filling the doorway. his hair was slightly tousled, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that made your pulse quicken.

"hey," he said softly, his voice low and careful. "you mind if i come in for a minute?"

you nodded, stepping aside to let him in. he walked in slowly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his flannel shirt, like he was trying to play it cool. but you could see it in his eyes, in the tension in his shoulders—he was feeling it too.

"what's up?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, even though your heart was pounding.

sam didn't answer right away. instead, he moved to stand by the window, looking out at the dark, empty parking lot. for a moment, you thought he was going to say something about the case, or ask you for help with research—something safe, something normal. but then he turned around, and the look in his eyes was anything but normal.

"i've been thinking," he started, his voice still soft, but there was an intensity behind it now. "about... us."

your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your pulse racing in your ears. *us.* the word hung in the air between you, heavy with all the unspoken feelings you'd been trying to ignore for weeks.

"sam—"

"I think you know," he interrupted, taking a step closer. his eyes locked onto yours, and suddenly, there was no space between you, no distance to hide behind. "i think you've known for a while now."

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your cool, but it was useless. the way he was looking at you—the way his eyes traced your face, the way his voice had dropped to a near whisper—it was overwhelming.

"what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sam smiled softly, but there was something serious in his expression, something that made your stomach flip. he reached out, his hand brushing against yours, a light touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your whole body.

"you know exactly what I mean," he said, his voice low and full of meaning. "the way you look at me... the way I look at you. we've been going around it for weeks now."

your heart was racing, your mind spinning, but you couldn't look away from him. because he was right. you had known. maybe not from the very beginning, but somewhere along the way, you had realized it—that he saw you the same way you saw him.

"and now?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly as you looked up at him. "what happens now?"

sam's hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. he smiled, that soft, almost shy smile with dimples that made your heart melt.

"now," he said, stepping closer until there was no space left between you, "we stop pretending."

before you could say another word, sam leaned in, grabbing your jaw, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt both familiar and brand new. your heart soared as you kissed him back, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, sam rested his forehead against yours, his fingers still intertwined with yours.

"i think i knew," you whispered, your voice light and teasing, even though your heart was pounding in your chest.

aam chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. "yeah. i think i knew too."

and in that moment, with sam's hand in yours and the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, everything felt right. you didn't have to wonder anymore. you didn't have to pretend.

because now, you both knew.

[welldonebeca]

This Damn Season - Masterlist

Summary: Dean picks up two lost bunny girls during mating season. The Winchester brothers are about to have a lot of fun riding their ruts with those twins in heat. Pairing: Wolf!Dean Winchester x Athena “Thea”, the Bunny (OFC), Wolf!Sam Winchester x  Aphrodite “Dittie”, the Bunny (OFC) Warnings: Dub-con, Alpha/Omega dynamics (Sam and Dean are Alphas, the girls are Omegas), Degrading/humiliation kink, mating cycles, fingering, oral sex, spanking, praise kink, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Gentle Alpha/Dom Sam Winchester, Rough Dom/Alpha Dean Winchester, Shameless Smut, Semi-public sex... 

🐰🐺🐰🐺

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Epilogue

The Bunny Way 

Summary: Over a year after the mating season that started their growing family, Sam and Dean are still trying to understand and learn their bunny's culture. Their twin bunnies had a lot to teach them. Maybe the bunny way was the best way.

Coming to Tumblr in February!

Chapter 1 on Patreon (3rd of February on Tumblr)

Chapter 2 (31st of December on Patreon) (10th of February on Tumblr)

Chapter 3 (7th of January on Patreon) (17th of February on Tumblr)

Chapter 4 (14th of January on Patreon) (24th of February on Tumblr)

Chapter 5 (21st of January on Patreon) (3rd of March on Tumblr)

Chapter 6 (28th of January on Patreon) (10th of March on Tumblr)

Chapter 7 (4th of February on Patreon)  (17th of March on Tumblr)

Chapter 8 (11th of February on Patreon) (24th of March on Tumblr)

Chapter 9 (18th of February on Patreon) (31st of March on Tumblr)

[xoperidottea]

So.... I was gonna work on my Dean mini-series but fell down a Stardew Valley rabbit hole and what was gonna be only an hour of video games turned into 5hrs. So, ya know, woohoo??

Then, I come on here, see @idreamofplaid 's double-feature moodboard and all of @calaofnoldor 's Sam-centric posts and, well... This happened (I wrote this at like 1am, don't come for me):

____

The heat from their breaths ghosted over their faces as they lingered, bodies invading each other's spaces. The smell of her favorite perfume tickled Sam's nose-- light, sweet, and delicate with a faint after taste of peony. With a feather-light softness, she pressed her lips to his, almost as if she was frightened of his rejection.

Sam chased her lips with his, firmly but gently capturing her in a long overdue kiss. Slow, languid kisses made the world melt away around them. Sam's eyes fluttered close as he let himself get drunk on the moment.

He could feel the afternoon sunlight still warm on his face. Her lip gloss was tacky but delicious, the faint taste of marshmallow mixing with the taste of her mouth. Their tongues twisted slowly together as they savored each other.

Sam's head felt like he was in a fog, but in the best way possible. All tension seemed to melt away for the first time in what had felt like a lifetime. The way her fingertips dug into his biceps as she clung tightly to him, her eagerly pressing against him as she tried to get impossibly closer, the soft smoothness of her skin beneath his calloused fingertips as they caressed her beneath her cotton blouse; Sam couldn't get enough.

A light, calming breeze blew from the open window. Sam could feel her shiver slightly and pulled her tighter against him, as if he could shield her from anything with his own body. She lightly raked her nails along his scalp, eliciting a moan of pleasure and a subtle rut of his hips.

Sam wrapped his long limbs tighter around her and deepened the kiss, tender uncertainty giving way to formerly surpressed desire. Desperation soon took hold as every kiss And every touch became too much and not enough all at the same time. Without thinking, Sam had backed her up to the bed behind her and collapsed with her on top of it, trapping her between the hard heat of his body and the soft coolness of the patchwork quilt.

Sam kissed her deep and senseless, caging her head with his forearms as he tangled his fingers in her hair. Sighing and panting into each other's mouths, they both rolled their hips in slow synchrony, desperate to feel more of each other while wanting to make the moment last. No words were exchanged between them, but then again, none needed to be. The smells, the sounds, the touch-- it was beyond euphoric, even borderline transcendental.

If Sam could drown in her, he would do so without hesitation... he would die a very happy man.

[carryonwaywardkansas]

Just a little thing I wrote in my head while drinking cocoa in bed...

In my head, it’s the follow-up to Like You Hung The Moon, which is the second part to Like You Hung The Stars, but I haven't posted [LYHTM] yet. This isn’t so much a backstory as it is a glimpse into how Sam sees Riley through the years, and can be read as a stand-alone. LYHTM will be posted later this week, so keep an eye out!

———

It’s the glow of her skin in the light, it’s the shine of her eyes when she smiles, it’s the melody of her voice when she speaks... and the beat of her heart that answers his.

He remembers it, the first time he saw her with these eyes — eyes that had never seen beauty until she came along. He remembers it, the first time he heard her voice with these ears — ears that had never heard joy until she came along. He remembers it, the first one he felt her with these hands — hands that had never felt comfort until she came along. He remembers it, the first time he loved her with this heart — a heart that had never known love until she came along.

He forgets, sometimes, to breathe. He forgets, sometimes, to wait. He forgets, sometimes, to feel. But she reminds him to. She reminds him to breathe, to wait, to feel.

His eyes know her face, his ears know her voice, his hands know her skin, his heart knows her heart. She is his air, his survival, his everything.

He looks at her like she hung the moon because she did, she does, she will.

———

S&R Taglist: @iwantthedean @atc74

[hoboal87]

Elastic Heart is on AO3!

It's written with an OFC instead of a reader insert as that's how I originally started writing it 🙂

[princessmisery666]

Samnesia - Chapter 8 - Poker Face

Series Summary: Brooke is a calming distraction from the chaotic mess of Sam’s life. When a hunt keeps them separated for over a month, Sam returns to find she no longer remembers him. The need to find out what happened while he was gone sends Sam on a case that will change the course of his life. What he discovers along the way will change the way he looks at love.

Chapter Info

Summary: Now: Sam’s frustrated that he’s no closer to figuring out the cause of Brooke’s amnesia. Could a friendly game of poker with Dean reveal the answer? Then: Sam tracks down Brooke to find out why she’s giving him the cold shoulder, and he doesn’t like what he finds.

W/C: 4.6k

Warnings: angst, confrontation, kidnapping,

Characters: Sam Winchester, Original Female Character (Brooke), other OC’s, Dean Winchester.

Extra special shoutout to: @slytherkins - this would not have been possible without her input, she deserves co-write credits.

Beta: @deanwinchesterswitch

Graphics: @talesmaniac89

Previous Chapter

Then

Taking Dean’s advice to go and see Brooke proved to be a mistake. She hadn’t been home when Sam arrived just after eight-thirty. Her car was in the driveway, but his knock went unanswered. The place was shrouded in darkness with no sign of life inside. He had driven around town, visited all the places he knew she frequented, and finally found her. Though, finding her hadn’t brought him the answers he had hoped it would. 

He had an unobstructed view of her on the other side of the room from where he sat in a booth at the back of the diner. Brooke looked good, healthy, and in high spirits. That much was a relief. Everything else he’d witnessed was the opposite. He’d seen every flirtatious smile she gave to the guy sitting across from her and felt his skin burn when she put her hand over a hand that didn’t belong to him. 

From the partial view he had of her date, Sam could see that this new man was almost his opposite. He was just as tall and broad-shouldered, but his blond hair was cropped close and shaved neatly at the sides. He wore casual but obviously expensive clothes and a large, gaudy gold watch that reflected the fluorescent light every time he moved. 

Anger bubbled inside of Sam, and he contemplated marching over and confronting the pair. Brooke owed him an explanation, or at the very least, the opportunity to understand what the hell had happened in the time he’d been gone. But the family diner wasn’t the place for a fight, and he’d been too worked up to trust himself to manage an adult discussion. Brooke had told him she was falling for him, practically told him she was in love with him, and now she was on a date with some random guy. He didn’t know how else to feel other than angry and hurt.

He couldn’t let it go. Not completely. He wouldn’t go back to the bunker without first understanding what had happened. He couldn’t sit and watch the very public display of affection, either. The man that wasn’t him rose slightly to lean across and kiss her. Brooke leaned toward him and brought her hand to his cheek, and that was Sam’s limit. He grabbed a couple of bills from his pocket for the coffee he’d ordered but left untouched and threw them onto the table.

He’d decided on a plan of action. He’d go back to her house, wait for her to get home (hopefully alone), and then confront her. At least then, they could talk in relative privacy. In the age of smartphones and dumb people, Sam didn’t want to become a viral hit. But he couldn’t stand to watch any longer. Her laughter carried over to him; whereas before, it had made him happy, now it twisted like a serrated knife in his gut. And he more than knew how that felt. 

Sam slipped out of the booth at the same time Brooke’s date did. Sam’s heart stopped, and his breath hitched when he got a full view of his replacement.

Tommy. 

The douchebag who had been the reason Brooke climbed into the Impala the night Sam had met her. 

As Tommy disappeared toward the bathroom, Sam’s feet made the decision for him, and before his brain formed a plan or a coherent thought, he’d slipped into Tommy’s still-warm seat. Brooke’s eyes glided up from her phone screen, and her smile faded from happy to awkward when the person staring back at her wasn’t who she’d expected. 

“Sorry,” she said politely, “but someone’s sitting there.” 

“Oh, I know who’s sitting here. What the hell are you doing?” Sam spat, his anger getting the better of him. 

“Excuse me,” exclaimed Brooke, glaring at him, wary and incredulous. “I think you should leave.” 

Sam scoffed, fighting to keep the fury from his tone without success. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave as soon as you tell me why you’ve been ignoring me and why you're on a date with that asshole.”

Brooke stood up. Backing away from the table, she looked over her shoulder, surveying her surroundings as if seeking help but not quite ready to call out for assistance. Firmly, she told him, “Look, I’m sorry, but I think you may have confused me with someone else.” 

“Brooke, are you okay?” Chloe asked, coming to her friend’s aid. 

“I’m fine. This guy was just leaving.” Her tone was a warning.

Sam stared at her, perplexed. This guy? Then he quashed his anger long enough to really see her. Her wide eyes showed borderline fear mixed with confusion, and her body curved toward Chloe, seeking protection. There was no guilt or remorse in her features. She was confused by his presence and fearful of him, but otherwise, it was clear she felt nothing else. 

The silent treatment. On a date with Tommy, of all people. It dawned on him, perhaps slower than it should have, his anger-dazed mind taking longer than usual to connect the dots, that something was wrong. His blood turned to ice in his veins. Brooke hadn’t just been ignoring him. He cleared his suddenly dry throat and rose to his feet slowly to show he wasn’t a threat. 

He didn’t need to ask, he knew the answer already, but he needed to hear it. “Brooke…do you know who I am?” 

She shook her head slowly and deliberately, clearly cautious about answering, worried about displeasing him, but she replied honestly. “Sorry, no.”

Tommy emerged from the restroom across the diner, and Sam knew he’d need to leave before he was seen. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he quickly apologized before racing away.

Then

The street was deserted, just as Sam expected it to be at eleven-thirty on a Wednesday night. The everyday people who lived on the residential street would all be tucked up tight in bed, getting a good night's rest to be ready for their nine-to-five routine to start again in the morning. He may have looked odd, sitting in his car parked at the curb a few houses down from Brooke’s, but thankfully, her neighbors probably wouldn’t be looking out of their windows any time soon.

Sam had spied from across the street when Tommy dropped Brooke home. He walked her to the door and kissed her goodnight, hands roaming in places Sam once thought were reserved for him. Even without being close enough to eavesdrop, he knew from their body language Tommy had tried to convince her to invite him in, to let roaming hands lead to more. His heart sank to his feet as he watched Brooke worry her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating it. Thankfully, she kissed her handsy date once more before bidding him goodnight.

Sam was grateful because his half-cocked plan required Brooke to be alone. He waited ten minutes after Tommy’s car disappeared around the corner at the end of the street before pulling his car behind hers in the driveway. 

Before he could talk himself out of it, he jumped out of his car, opened the door to the back seat in readiness, and then jogged to Brooke’s front porch, ringing the bell. It felt like a month had passed before she answered. 

Fear registered immediately upon seeing him. He didn’t wait for her to ask what he wanted or give her time to decide to shut him out. He jammed his foot against the door, blew the chamomile dust from the palm of his hand into her face, and recited the Enochian incantation.

Her eyes fluttered, and she swayed as she tried to fight the sleep spell, but it was futile. She fell forward into Sam’s waiting arms. “I’m sorry,” he told her sleeping form, more for his own peace of mind, “but I swear it’s for your own good.”

He wrestled her limp body into a better position to be able to scoop her up, then rushed to set her into the back of his car, where he buckled her in and soundlessly closed the door. He returned to her house, grabbing her keys from the small table behind the door and her favorite pair of sneakers from the floor. Then he locked the door behind him while dialing Dean on his cell. 

Dean began without a greeting, “Dude, if you’re calling to tell me not to wait up-” 

“Shut up a second,” Sam interrupted. “I’m on my way back with Brooke. I need you to have some chamomile ready.” He didn’t want to have to use the spell again, but he needed her to sleep long enough to get her into the bunker and give him the time to formulate an actual plan.

“Chamomile? What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Dean inhaled, sharp and deep, registering what the chamomile was for. “Sam, please tell me you haven’t used a sleep spell on your girlfriend.”  

“Okay, I won’t tell you that,” Sam told him flatly. 

“Sam.” 

“Dean, please. It’s already done. I’ll explain when I get there. I just need you to have it ready.” 

He ended the call, knowing his brother would do as he asked despite his concerns.

Now

The words on the page had begun to blur an hour ago, but Sam refused to quit. He couldn’t afford to. It had been over a week since he’d kidnapped Brooke, and he was no closer to figuring out the cause of her ‘Samnesia’.

He’d ruled out a few possibilities. She wasn’t possessed and hadn’t made a crossroads deal. No ectoplasm was present at her house, no hex bags or cursed items, and she hadn’t been ingesting any weird potions. He should have felt relief, having eliminated so many potential causes, but all he felt was dread. The more they ruled out, the fewer options remained, and he was running out of time. 

Tommy had disappeared. Despite his adamant insistence that she contact him, he hadn’t returned any of Brooke’s calls and was absent without leave from work. Sam wasn’t sure what that meant except that they couldn’t question or test him. Maybe he wasn’t just being a controlling douchebag before. Maybe he’d discovered something and tried to get in touch with Brooke to warn her. There was no way to know for certain. All Sam knew for sure was that he was tired. He was slowly beginning to feel like a failure, and if he were honest, he was losing hope.  

He’d read the same seven-word sentence uncountable times because he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Brooke. She sat across the library in what he’d come to think of as her nook. She favored the location above the others to work in. The plush red velvet armchair with the matching footrest seemed as if it had been made specifically for her. He swallowed a heavy sigh of dread for the day he’d look over and find it empty, for he knew that day would arrive sooner rather than later. 

While Sam spent his days neck-deep in research, Brooke worked remotely from the bunker, and they spent their evenings together, eating dinner, going to the movies, or curling up on his bed watching Netflix. He grew increasingly frustrated as the days passed, not only with their lack of answers but also because it proved more and more difficult to be around her and not be how they used to be. He missed the casual kisses. He craved for her hands to stroke absentminded patterns on his skin. The desire to feel her come undone beneath him was harder to quash with each minute that passed. Cold showers weren’t cutting it anymore. 

“You okay there, Sammy?” Dean asked from across the table, seeing his brother’s distracted admiration of Brooke. 

“No,” he admitted somberly, unwilling to stop gawking. “No. I’m not okay. I’m running out of time.” 

“What’re you talking about?” 

“It’s been over a week, Dean,” said Sam. “She’s already stayed way longer than she said she would. She’s going to leave, I know it.” 

“Maybe that would be for the best.” Dean shrugged, though his brother wasn’t looking at him. “You can’t keep her here forever, Sam. She has a family, friends, a life outside of these walls, a life without-”

Sam shot a death glare at Dean, and his words trailed off. “Say it. Say it, Dean,” he dared angrily. “She has a life without me in it.” His eyes darted back to Brooke, grateful she favored listening to music while she worked, and his raised voice hadn’t caught her attention. 

Dean waited until Sam focused back on him, his palms raised to show his surrender. “I’m not trying to be a dick here, Sammy. I’m just saying she’s okay. She’s not in danger, and she’s not dying. She just doesn’t remember you. Rowena is MIA, and Cas is god knows where. We’re no closer to solving this than we were a week ago. Whatever is messing with you doesn’t seem to want to hurt her, so maybe we use that? Maybe it’s time to draw this thing out.”

Sam chewed the inside of his cheek. It took a second to calm the anger rising in his chest. “You think she’s safe? Really? Tommy is missing, Dean. What if he’s behind all this, and he ups his game the second she returns? What if he’s not involved but saw something he wasn’t supposed to? How do we know they won’t come after Brooke, too? There’s too much we don’t know. I’m not using her as bait, Dean, and I’m not giving her up. Not now.” 

“Because you don’t want to or cause you can’t?” 

“Both,” he said with an air of finality. He rose abruptly, pushing his chair noisily across the tiled floor. “So, drop it.” 

Sam’s raised voice had drawn Brooke’s attention, and though she couldn’t hear the words of the brothers’ conversation, it hadn’t been hard to discern the topic of the heated discussion.

Leaving her earbuds in, she held her eyes on the screen but silenced her music so that it wouldn’t further hinder her eavesdropping. Attention falsely focused on her laptop, Brooke waited until Sam had strode from the room and was out of view before looking over to Dean. 

He gave her a tight smile accompanied by a curt nod in Sam’s direction. “I tried,” said Dean, “but I think he needs to hear it from you.”

Brooke had privately asked Dean to broach the subject of her leaving. She’d thought Dean would be better suited to make Sam consider that it was time to call it quits. Now that she knew what they did, what their everyday lives consisted of, she felt the brothers had other things they should be focusing their efforts on. But from what she had witnessed, that hadn’t been the case. Sam had concentrated all his attention on her.   

She dragged her feet as she made her way out of the library to give herself more time to decide what she would say and because, quite frankly, she didn’t want to do what she knew she had to.

Her shuffling carried her forward until she saw Sam standing in the kitchen. The sight stopped her in her tracks, and she stepped to the side, using the corner to conceal herself so she could survey him from a distance. Though, it seemed it was unnecessary. Sam was too lost in his own head to notice her approach. His eyes stared unseeing at a spot on the tiled floor, and it gave her a moment to drink him in, commit everything about him to memory. 

What if she left and forgot him again? She didn’t want to forget the way his hair feathered perfectly around his face. She had to remember the color of his eyes, the green hue when he’d talk passionately about something that fascinated or interested him, the dark almost completely blacked out shade of them when she’d kissed him, the turquoise that shone through when he sleepily stumbled into the kitchen after he woke. 

Ogling his long, jean-clad legs, stretched out and crossed at the ankles, made her involuntarily clench her own legs together. The fantasy of grinding down on one of his thick thighs had crossed her mind more than once in the week she had spent with him. But it wasn’t just the physicality of him she wanted to tattoo on her brain. It was the kindness he’d shown her, the complete selflessness, the way he’d made her laugh until her ribs ached, and the deep conversations they’d had about everything from monsters to movies and everything in between. 

Despite all of that, despite not being ready to say goodbye, she knew she had to. She forced her feet to move and strode with determination the rest of the way into the room. His eyes snapped up from the floor. Now noticing her approach, he plastered on a fake smile, but something in her expression immediately caused it to fall from his lips. 

Walking to the fridge, he huffed a humorless laugh, “This the part where you tell me you're leaving?”

Brooke nodded, stopping a few feet in front of him once he settled against the countertop again, opening a fresh beer. “It’s time, Sam. It’s been over a week. We aren’t making any progress. As fun as this weird little vacation has been, I have to get back.” She chuckled, trying to lighten the tense mood, but it did nothing to alter the atmosphere. “I miss my family, my friends. I have work commitments.” 

“You’re the boss,” he said somewhat harshly. He clearly didn’t like her reasoning for wanting to leave.

“Yes, I am, and taking off out of the blue for a week like this is not like me,” she sighed. “If I stay away any longer, it will raise suspicions.” 

Sam took a swig of his beer, a small opportunity to avoid asking the next question. “When?” 

“Well, I promised I’d kick Dean’s ass at poker tonight,” she said with a wink, taking the beer from him and drinking a big mouthful before answering. “So I figured I’d go tomorrow afternoon.” Sam’s eye’s found that interesting spot on the tiles again. The need to explain herself, to make sure he understood her reasons, to not hurt him, overwhelmed her. “It’s Sunday. Figured I can get home and sort myself out for a fresh start Monday morning.”

He scoffed, “Fresh start. Got it.”

He was a hard man to read. The mixed emotions seemed to radiate off him in waves. She couldn’t be sure if he was mad at her because she was giving up or at himself because he hadn’t kept his promise. From what she did know of him, she assumed the latter.

“I’m sorry, Sam, truly I am. But I don’t know what the protocol for this situation is. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.” Her voice wavered, and tears pricked the corner of her eyes. 

She waited, chest heaving with the effort of trying not to cry, his eyes burned into hers, but he offered no words. The silence proved too much for her. She couldn’t stand in the awkward, emotionally charged tension anymore. 

“Say something. Please.” 

“I don’t know what to say. You're leaving. You're going home, back to your life, starting fresh. Where does that leave me?” he thought aloud, not necessarily expecting her to answer. “Should I pretend I don’t remember you? The time before and the last two weeks? Should I just forget you?” 

His words broke her. The mere thought of him forgetting her tugged at the wall holding her sobs back, and his words were the sledgehammer needed to punch through. She swiped at the water cascading down her cheeks. “Is that what you want? To forget me too?”

He didn’t hesitate, shaking his head, “No!” He closed the gap between them, thumbing away her tears, his warm hands on either side of her face. “I want you, Brooke. I want us. The way it used to be.” 

She puffed out a long breath, smiling sympathetically through her blurred vision. “I can’t give you that. I wish I could, Sam. I’d sell my soul for that, and now that I know that’s an actual thing, I still mean it.” Her semi-serious joke was rewarded with a quick dimpled smile. “But maybe it’s time to accept that we just have to carry on like we have been these last couple weeks, getting to know each other again. Well, me getting to know you.” 

“And if something happens and you forget me again?”

“I already thought about that, so I’ve written myself a journal and made myself some videos.” She rose to the tips of her toes to kiss his mouth firmly. She pulled back to look into his eyes. “I know this is completely different for you, and I get it if it’s all too much and you can’t carry on like this. But if you're willing, I don’t want this to be the end of us.”  

He kissed her, and she felt the desperation in it, as if he feared he’d never get to do it again. “I don’t want this to be the end of us, either, and I don’t want that to be the last time I kiss you. And I really, really don’t want this to be another scenario that I regret not fighting you on. So I’m asking - no, I’m begging you - please stay.”

Brooke kept her focus on him, and the longer she stared, the charm of his puppy dog eyes wore her down. She relented with a slight shake of her head. “If I agree to stay,” she said, and his smile illuminated his eyes, “can we compromise? Can I at least go to the office a couple of times next week? You can drive me and pick me up or do whatever you need to do. I just need to show my face.” 

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Yes, we can make that work,” he said enthusiastically, and at that moment, she knew he’d find a way to give her the moon if she asked for it. “Got space for me in your office?”

“Not sure I’d get much work done with you as a distraction,” she winked, “but yes, I can make room for you.”

Now

“What you got, sweetheart?” Dean asked with an incorrigible smile. “You gonna raise or fold?” 

Brooke studied her cards again. She’d gotten a big fat hand of nothing, and she was going to lose a third round of poker with the eldest Winchester. Sam folded two hands ago but had stuck around to watch the competition. He leaned over to peek at her cards, but she pulled them close to her chest, concealing them from view. 

“No cheating,” she teased. 

Sam rolled his eyes, smiling back at her, “I was just going to offer some advice, seeing as you're all out of money.” 

Dean waggled his brow, nodding his head toward her right hand, “That ring looks expensive.” 

She chewed the inside of her cheek, looking at the shiny, white gold diamond-encrusted band on her right ring finger. “No chance,” she scoffed. “My brother bought me this for my twenty-first birthday.” 

“Come on,” Dean goaded, “I’ll give you a chance to win it back.” 

Brooke chuckled at his bravado. He was still so sure he’d win, although she had already managed to bluff him a few times. “Fine,” she conceded, “but we play until I win it back!” 

“That’s the spirit,” said Dean. “Throw it in!” 

Brooke laughed at the excited seat dance he did, laying her cards face down on the table to be able to pull her ring off without revealing them to Dean. A moment passed, and Brooke continued to stare down at her birthday gift. Her left hand was suspended in midair, fingers shaking a millimeter away from making contact with the glistening piece of jewelry. 

An eerie, almost undetectable, pulsing glow seemed to come from the ring she had worn every day for more than a decade, but she dismissed the thought as the library lights reflected off the polished diamonds. But why couldn’t she pull it off? The muscles in her jaw clenched as she put all her effort into sending the signal from her brain to tell her fingers to wrap around the object and pull it free. 

“I can’t do it!” She exhaled loudly, watching her fingers spasm.  

Dean puffed out a small laugh. “What’s the matter? Scared you won’t be able to win it back?” 

“Dean,” Sam warned, sliding to the edge of his seat, seeing Brooke in distress. His hand on her shoulder did nothing to pull her focus from the task she was so determined to complete. “Brooke, what’s wrong?” 

“I can’t do it. I want to, I really want to,” she explained, a bead of sweat breaking out on her creased brow, “but I can’t physically do it. Like, my fingers won’t move.” 

Sam watched as she struggled, fighting against an unseen force. Teeth clenched, she began to pant, her cheeks red from the exertion. 

“Stop,” he suggested softly, unable to watch her strain herself any longer. “Brooke, stop!” he begged, knocking her hand out of the way so he could grab the ring himself. A shock coursed through him. His whole body convulsed as if he’d been tasered. His body seized, eyes locked on Brooke’s, silently pleading for help. 

Dean jumped to his feet, his chair falling over in his haste, but Brooke snatched her hand back out of Sam’s reach before he could take a step. As soon as the contact was broken, Sam’s body slackened, and he slumped in his chair, exhausted. 

She turned her eyes to him, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. “What the hell was that?” 

“Well, I think we just figured out what made you forget Sam,” Dean explained, rushing to his brother’s side but relaxing when it was clear no real harm had been done. 

“My ring?” she asked, staring down at it again. 

“My money is on it being cursed,” Dean said, far more cheerfully than Brooke thought was appropriate.

“My ring being cursed is a good thing?”

“At least we know what we’re workin’ with now,” he grinned, the tip of his tongue peeking between his teeth. “Hell, we might just wrap this mystery up after all. Alright there, Sammy?” he asked, practically jovial as he gave his brother a couple of firm slaps on the back.

Sam controlled his breathing and sat up straighter in his chair. “Has it ever been out of your possession?” he asked Brooke, then froze with realization. “Wait,” he said,  “you told me you lost it..."

She thought for a moment, eyes darting back and forth as she searched her memory. “Yes, I lost it at the gym about a month ago. I was so upset, I had the place turned upside down. I had to get to a meeting, so I left, but…” she swallowed thickly, realization dawning on her with a fizz of acid in her throat. “Tommy found it the next day.”

Sam couldn’t contain a broad smile that matched his brother’s, but before he could express his excitement, Brooke’s ringtone filled the otherwise quiet library.

She gave Sam a quick, apologetic smile. “Hey, Big Bee,” she greeted, stepping away from the table. Despite the boys’ shared elation, Brooke was shaken by the revelation and her recent experience. She hoped her brother wouldn’t notice the tremor in her voice. 

“Where are you?”

Normally, she’d have remarked on his lack of greeting and chastised him for being abrupt, but something in his tone told her it wasn’t the time. “Brett, what’s wrong?” 

“You need to get home right now. Your house is on fire.”

Chapter 9 - Misplaced Intentions

Master Lists: Samnesia // All The Fandoms

[chaoticgremlinwholikescheese]

I Am Complete: Chap. 4

SAM’S POV:

We manage to evade Carol’s questions. She knows something’s up, but she can’t figure out what. We try to talk with Ms. Trayton again, but she refuses. We decide not to push her. She’s been through enough. “Let’s talk outside.” Andy whispers. We walk outside, meeting on the front lawn. “The body has to be somewhere nearby. The question is where.” I mutter. “The thing is, if she disappeared, she would have run. She should’ve been far away from here.” Dean adds. “We need to do the EMF readings. Juliet must have come back because of Mr. Trayton cheating. That would explain the long break.” Andy says. 

I’m about to add something, but a scream rips through the air. We all run towards the house. I try the front door, but it’s locked. I slam my body against it, but it holds fast. “Hold on!” I shout. I take a few steps back and kick open the door, the wood cracking. We run inside, hands on our guns. We rush to the source of the scream.

Carol and her mother are up against the wall. In the middle of the room stands Juliet Adams. Her hair is unruly and tangled, a ghostly halo around her face. Her eyes are rimmed red, sunk into her face. Her limbs are a pale white. You can see the bones poking through

, any sign of muscle or fat gone. Her feet are bare, a faded pink dress covering her skeletal frame. I look for anything iron, anything to get rid of the spirit.

Andy moves towards the fireplace, grabbing the iron poker. She swings it at Juliet, letting out a grunt. The poker swings through Juliet and she disappears, smoke evaporating into the air. I run over to Carol and Ms. Trayton. “Are you guys ok?” I ask, looking them over for injuries. Carol gives a weak nod. “What- what the hell was that?” Ms. Trayton shrieks, her eyes wide. She looks like she might faint. 

“That was Juliet Adams.” Dean says, taking a cautious step forward. “Who?” Ms. Trayton questions, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. “Do you want to sit down?” I lead her to the couch, Carol taking a seat beside her. Both women are pale, shocked looks etched on their faces. 

“That was Juliet Adams. She’s a spirit, more specifically a vengeful spirit. She disappeared in 1963. She found her husband cheating, and, in revenge, clawed his eyes out. We don’t know how her spirit is stuck here, but we’re going to get rid of her.” I explain. “I’m going crazy.” Ms. Trayton mumbles, rubbing her eyes. Andy kneels down in front of them. “I know this is shocking. I know this is scary. Monsters are real. They exist. But that’s why we’re here. We won’t let them hurt you.” Ms. Trayton looks up. 

“You're not FBI, are you?” Carol says quietly. Andy shakes her head. “We’re hunters. We kill spirits and other monsters like these.” Dean tells her. “Other monsters? You mean it's not just ghosts?” Ms. Trayton asks, her voice wobbling. “We can discuss all that later. For now, we need to get you and your daughter out of here so we can take care of Juliet.” I say. Ms. Trayton nods. 

The two women head upstairs to pack. “Once they leave, I need to change. I can’t hunt in this skirt, I can barely move my legs.” Andy huffs. I bite back a laugh. “Agreed. I hate suits.” Dean mutters, loosening his tie. Carol and her mother come back down the stairs a few minutes later, suitcases in hand. We walk them out. I reassure them that we will get everything fixed up. Both of them are still in shock, and I don’t blame them. “I’ll head to my motel across town, let’s meet back here.” Andy says. I nod and she heads to her car. I join Dean in Baby. 

“How the hell are we going to find what’s tying Juliet to the house? It could be literally anything.” I sigh. “We just have to guess. We’ll figure it out, we’ve succeeded on less.” Dean shrugs. This is going to take forever. On the bright side, the longer this case drags on, the longer I get to spend with Andy.

[starrylanex]

i still have bunch of requests up in my ass but what are your thoughts on some Sam Winchester one shots inspired by Taylor Swift’s songs?🤭

[suckmysupernatural]

Sunshine - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2226

Pairing: Sam x OC Sunny

Series Summary: The Winchesters meet a cheerful hunter named Sunny, who quickly captures Sam’s attention. Little do any of them know what lies in store when Sunny gets invited to join the brothers. Who can say how Sam, Dean, and Sunny will be some training days, a handful of hunts, romantic dates, a kidnapping, and one vengeful demon later.

Chapter Summary: Sam and Dean meet an upbeat hunter with incredible skills

Warnings: show-level violence, language

A/N: I’m so excited to finally be sharing this series with you guys! 2 1/2 months of writing and it is seeing the light of day. A big thank you to @emptycanvasposts​ for beta-ing and helping to correct my many, many grammar mistakes. Also thank you to @erin-fox-winchester​ for hyping me up and giving me amazing notes that made this series so much better.

A/N 2: I’m now doing a forever tag list!!! Send a message, ask, reblog, or reply and I’ll add you <3

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The sleek black Impala raced down the road towards Norfolk, Virginia. Sam and Dean had been alerted of a vampire nest in the city, so they decided to make the long drive from Lebanon. Sam was passed out in the back seat as Dean rocked out to classic rock music to stay awake. They had been on the road for a total of 20 hours, stopping once at a motel for sleep. Dean looked down at his phone, checking the directions; he nodded to himself, satisfied with the results. 

Ozzy Osborne’s “Crazy Train” suddenly blared from the speakers, Dean turning up the volume to wake up his brother. This was Dean’s version of an alarm clock, and boy was it alarming. Sam jolted upright, looking for the source of the sound. After realizing it was just his brother, he brought his hands up to his eyes in an attempt to rub away the grogginess Sam felt.

“One hour out, man. You hungry?” Dean asked over his shoulder, chuckling at the brother’s reaction to the noise. Sam awkwardly climbed into the front passenger seat, his legs getting caught under him and almost causing him to tumble face-first into the dash. Dean bit back another laugh upon seeing the taller brother’s struggle, only to be met with a glare.

“Yeah, I could use some food,” Sam responded as he tried to suppress a yawn. The two brothers continued their journey in relative silence, nodding their heads along to the music. Before they knew it, they were passing a sign welcoming them to Norfolk. As soon as a diner was in their sights, Dean pulled into the parking lot. The brothers went in to eat, taking their time as they knew that the vampires wouldn’t be a problem until nighttime. 

“So, I was looking for a place the nest might be. There is an abandoned house on the south side of town. All of the victims were within a ten-mile radius of it. I’m thinking this one is open and shut. We can head there tonight and take ‘em out. Thoughts?” Sam offered up his research to Dean as they settled down in a booth. Dean looked over the map that Sam had marked up with the locations where each victim went missing and was found. It all seemed to point to the old house. Nodding, Dean agreed. It was nice when they didn’t need to go searching. 

 They made the plan to set out for the abandoned house just before sunset, letting themselves relax as they ate their meals. 

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The sun had just set as the brothers approached the house. As soon as they saw the multiple cars parked out in front, they knew they were in the right place. No one had owned the home in years, and usually squatters didn’t drive BMWs. 

The two men could hear the commotion from inside as soon as they reached the porch steps. They held their machetes up, prepared for whatever was going to happen. Or at least, they thought they were ready for anything. The front door swung open, revealing a vampire attempting to run from the house. Before either brother could make a move, the monster’s head was swiped clean off. The body dropped, revealing a woman that had both brothers in shock.

She had a machete in hand, but other than that, her appearance didn’t line up with the classic hunter look. She had on bootie heels that added an extra couple inches to her height, although she was still a lot shorter than both of the brothers. Her jeans were tight and she wore a loose floral shirt that flowed as she moved. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, out of her face but still stylish. The strangest of all was the smile that grew on her face as she saw the brothers. 

“Oh, hi! You guys must be hunters,” she said to them cheerily, her eyes looking down at the machetes in their hands. Dean wore a confused face, not used to cheery people, especially cheery hunters. Sam, on the other hand, was transfixed by the woman that stood before him. She was beautiful, and that smile, god that smile. It was so perfect that he was surprised that it didn’t twinkle like in cheesy cartoons. 

“Um… yeah,” Dean said, realizing Sam was not going to say anything. “I thought there were like 6 or 7 vamps in this nest. The number of deaths…”

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded simply, “it was six. So, do you two have names to match those handsome faces?”

Sam opened his mouth to respond when he saw movement behind her. Both brothers were about to warn her of the threat but she gave them a quick wink before twisting. She moved fluidly, slicing perfectly through the remaining vampire’s neck.

“Make that seven. Anyways, names?” she asked again while wiping her machete off on the now-deceased vampire’s jeans. She started walking towards them; her demeanor still bright. The brothers both looked at her in shock. 

“Um… I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sam. Do you mean to say that you just took out seven vamps all by yourself?” 

“Well, nice to meet you, Dean, Sam, and yes I did,” she responded, offering her hand to shake. “The name’s Sunny.”

“Sunny?” Dean asked, his eyebrow raised as he shook the woman’s hand. It fit perfectly with her upbeat attitude. It was almost hard to believe that this woman was real. 

“Yeah, it’s a nickname. My friends started calling me Sunshine, you know, cause I’m so positive. It didn’t take long for it to become shortened to Sunny. It’s what everyone calls me,” Sunny flashes another smile to the brothers. Sam clears his throat, finally speaking.

“So - um - Sunny, wanna go grab a drink with us?” he asked, trying not to make it sound like he was trying to pick her up. Even though that was definitely what he was trying to do. He was drawn to Sunny and didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. Dean looked over to his brother and poorly attempted to suppress a grin. It was rare to see Sam so flustered over a woman. Hell, he didn’t even know how long it had been since his brother had a date. 

“Sure, sounds great! I’ll follow you guys,” she smiled. The three hunters walked back in the direction of the Impala. It wasn’t until they passed a cluster of trees that Sunny started to break off from them. Behind the foliage was a bubblegum pink car that seemed to match the woman’s personality perfectly. 

“Holy shit is that -” Dean’s eyes were wide.

“A 1955 Cadillac Fleetwood? Just like the one Elvis had? Yes, it is,” Sunny smiled with pride. The car was her most valued possession and she loved to see people’s reactions to it. Turning from the brothers, she climbed in and started the engine. Dean bit back a moan at the sound, looking over to his brother. 

“Marry her, Sammy. Just fucking marry her,” Dean said, his tone serious. Sam rolled his eyes as he started to walk towards the Impala. It didn’t take long for the brothers to get in and pull onto the road. This time, however, Sam couldn’t keep his eyes off of the side mirror, the pink car following not far behind them.

Soon they pulled into the bar’s parking lot. Sam had found one on his phone, giving Dean directions. It was nicer than their usual stops, not some roadside biker bar. He had a feeling that wasn’t Sunny’s scene. The Cadillac pulled up into the spot right next to the Impala, Sunny climbing out and gently closing the door. The three of them walked into the joint and were immediately met with the smell of booze. It was a familiar scent for them, the hunting life and alcohol went hand in hand. Dean made a beeline to the bar, leaving Sam behind with Sunny.

“What can I get you?” Sam asked her. She flashed him one of those heart-stopping smiles before responding. 

 “I’ll have an Old Fashioned,” she said. Sam nodded, leaving her to join his brother. Sunny found an empty table and sat. It didn’t take long for the brothers to return, Sam with her drink and a beer in his hands and Dean with a whiskey neat. Sam hands Sunny her glass as Dean speaks up.

“I’m surprised, didn’t take you as an Old Fashioned gal,” Dean points out. He had thought she would have gotten a sugary drink that requires a tiny umbrella. 

“Just because I’m feminine doesn’t mean I can’t handle my alcohol. I am a hunter after all,” Sunny laughed, bringing the glass to her lips. She wasn’t surprised by his question as it was one that most men tried to use as a pick-up line when she went to bars alone. “And I think it's a bit obvious by now, but I’m full of surprises.” She winked, causing Sam to almost choke on his beer. Sunny was definitely something else. 

The three hunters all nursed their drinks until Sam asked the question that both men had been wondering since they met her. 

“Okay, so how did you do that back there? Take out that many fangs? And that one that came up from behind you?” Sam blurted out. If it had been either of the brothers, they would’ve been outnumbered and blindsided. The vampire had moved silently, not doing anything to reveal its whereabouts. 

“Oh, that. I felt the air shift,” she said like the answer was obvious, taking a sip.

“Wait, what?” Sam asked as both brothers looked at her, completely confused. 

“So you know how we always have to be aware of our surroundings? Always on high alert? Well, I’ve managed to hone that in, taking the nerves out of the equation. I am fully aware of every part of my body, every sense. Sure, the vamp might’ve been completely silent, but as he moved near me the air was softly pushed in my direction. I could feel it on the back of my neck, so I knew he was right behind me.” Both brothers absorbed the information, surprised by the woman that sat across from them. 

“So, you’re just a human?” Dean asked bluntly. It was hard for him to believe she didn’t have secret powers. The question made her throw her head back in laughter.

“Yes, Dean, I am 100% human. I just don’t do things like most hunters,” she shrugged. Sam was in awe of her. She had such calming energy to her, he never wanted to leave her presence. 

“Can you teach it? Your technique?” Sam asked, leaning forward slightly. 

“Honestly? I’ve never tried it. I rarely meet other hunters and most of them are men who assume I’m afraid to chip a nail. If they want to underestimate me, that’s fine. I just let them take over and move on. There are plenty of monsters out there,” she said. It was surprising to hear, as she was obviously a fantastic hunter. Dean and Sam had barely seen her in action but they knew it to be true. To think that others thought she was just a pretty face was frustrating to Sam. 

Sam looked over to Dean and Sunny quickly noticed that they seemed to be having a conversation with just their eyes. They were brothers, so this wasn’t surprising. It was something she used to do with her sister. It only took a couple of seconds before they both looked back at her. 

“Why don’t you come back with Dean and me to our bunker? We would like to learn from you if that’s alright. You’d have a room to stay in and everything. That is if you want.” Sam was trying to not to keep his hopes up. There was no reason for this woman to follow two strangers and agree to train them. Looking into her eyes, he knew that he could get lost in them. She took a minute to think it over, taking a sip of her drink. 

“You know what? Why not? It’s not every day you get such an interesting offer. I can’t even remember the last time I worked with anyone,” Sunny accepted.

“Wait, you are just going to come with two guys you barely know?” Dean asked in disbelief. 

“Well, I’m pretty sure you both know that I could kick your asses in a heartbeat,” she stated simply. Both brothers exchanged a look. She was probably right. This decision seemed like the right one for Sunny. She usually didn’t trust male hunters, expecting them to be sexist assholes. These two were different, though. Dean seemed impressed by her skills, shocked only that she was human. He didn’t seem to care that she was a woman. 

Sam was something else entirely. She could tell that he genuinely was curious about how she worked. There was something about him that made her trust him. Maybe it was the kindness in his eyes or the way that he spoke to her like she had some sort of wisdom to impart. Whatever it may be, she had a feeling that the two of them were going to get along well. 

It also didn’t hurt that he was quite handsome. 

Chapter 2 ->