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[clairenovakz]

unrequited (dean winchester x reader)

pairing: dean x reader warnings: pure angst, parental death, canon-typical violence, but fluff at the end summary: after dean rejects your feelings for him, you start to lose part of yourself. when he realizes how far you’re gone, he’ll do anything to get you back. word count: 5.6k a/n: this is set in season 5, although it largely ignores the canon timeline because i can’t be bothered to make it all match up. this is my first real time writing dean so i hope you enjoy it!! as always, i love feedback. and also as always, my requests are open!!

“Y/N.”

You could barely hear Sam over the sound of the bar, gaze fixed on the bartender. People walked past your booth, talking loudly over the soft sound of some random country music, but somehow none of it could pry your attention away. Dean was leaning over the bar, apparently telling a very interesting story to the bartender, who was closer to him than you would have liked. His flannel sleeves were pulled up, exposing his forearms, giving you a rather enticing view.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

You snapped your head towards your friend. Sam was sitting across from you, clinking his beer bottle against yours. He looked tired; the apocalypse was looming over the three of you, and your new angel friend had been running you all ragged trying to press you all to stop it. Sometimes it didn’t feel right to have normalcy.

But even as the devil hunted Sam and the world was in danger of falling to pieces, you and the Winchesters would always find yourselves back in a bar, staying in shitty motel after shitty motel because it was just what you did. You don’t think you would have wanted it any other way.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You respond sheepishly, trying to give Sam your full attention.

“Y’know, you’re gonna have to face this eventually.” Sam quirked an eyebrow at you.

The two of you had a stare-off before you slammed your head into the table, groaning. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam. And sure I do.” He flicked the top of your head. “You have a massive crush on my brother, right?”

You flung your head back up and smacked his arm. “Speak louder, would you?!”

Sam laughed at you. “You know you could do a million times better, right?”

You frowned. Sam didn’t know how wrong he was. You didn’t think you could ever get better than Dean, although you knew Sam was just messing with you. Dean was so hopelessly selfless, it made you mad just thinking about it. Even after all this time, he carried himself with a grace you couldn’t understand. If you’d been at this whole apocalypse thing alone, or without him, you think you might have kicked the can by now.

“Whatever, I think I’m gonna go back.” Your mouth became a straight line as you pushed your beer towards Sam. “You can finish my beer.”

“Hey, you sure?” Sam looked genuinely concerned now. “Don’t let him get to you, seriously.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. “See you later, dude.”

You grabbed your jacket and swung it over your shoulders, deciding to say goodbye to Dean before you stepped out. The bartender was so close to him, her long blonde hair was brushing his shoulder. He looked so young, somehow, smiling at her with a twinkle in his eye. You weren’t sure if you could recall him looking at you like that.

“Hey, Dean.” You brushed a hand ever-so-gently on his back. “I’m heading out. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Dean turned then, his eyes meeting yours easily. “Aw, sweetheart, gonna ditch my brother already?” He smirked.

You groaned internally. “You know, you ditched him first.” 

He shrugged. “Whatever. See you later.” He turned away without a second thought, fully jumping into the conversation with the bartender again.

That stung. You stepped away quickly into the night air, hugging your jacket closer to you as you walked to your car. God, how stupid was this? You’d been pining for him since high school, and it seemed to be a well-known fact to everyone except him. There were moments you thought he might feel the same - but then again, he was the same flirty asshole with every person you’d met. It was killing you slowly to watch him distance himself from you, especially now. 

You got in your car and sat behind the wheel for a minute, trying to regain your composure. You wouldn’t let a man get to you. In the silence of your thoughts, you failed to notice the sound of flapping wings next to you until it was too late.

“Y/N.”

You screamed, honking the car horn briefly and flinging yourself back. Next to you was Castiel, apparent angel of the Lord, having materialized out of thin air.

“Jesus Christ.”

He cocked his head at you. “No, I’m Castiel.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s- nevermind.” You sucked in a breath. “What do you need, Cas? Sam and Dean are in the bar if you want to talk to them.”

Cas regarded you for a moment. “I know. But I wanted to talk to you.”

“Um… why?”

“You seem troubled.”

This perplexed you. “Uh, thanks, Cas. But I’m good, okay? No offense, but I don’t really want to talk about my problems with you.”

Cas squinted at you. “I know these times have been dark. There is an air of hopelessness that surrounds you and the Winchesters.” He paused, thinking.

You grimaced. “Jeez, okay, I mean, we’re trying our best.”

“No, what I mean to say is…” He held your gaze, not unkindly. “I just wanted to tell you, Y/N, that although it seems like Sam and Dean are the center players, you still have a part yet to play. And you shouldn’t lose hope quite yet. Not about anything.”

He seemed to be alluding to something much greater than you could understand. You just nodded, unsure how to respond. He nodded back, then cleared his throat.

“I should go. Think about what I said.” Without another word, Cas disappeared in a flurry of wings, and you were left alone.

“Hm.” You hummed, not sure what to make of the interaction. Cas was a friend, or at least, you felt he could be one. You weren’t sure what he really wanted, or what he meant. But you thought of your pressing feelings for Dean, and what he said about hope.

Maybe it meant something after all.

– 

“Fuck, I love pancakes.” 

Dean was eating like a pig, diving into a stack of pancakes he had absolutely smothered in syrup. You stared at him with a mixture of awe and disgust. He never failed to amuse you, even though this was an almost everyday occurrence. You stared down at your eggs and bacon, hoping that breakfast would stir some confidence in you.

“You okay, Y/N?” Dean paused to look at you, mouth full of sweet pancake. You stifled a laugh as syrup ran down his chin, and he rolled his eyes at you as he wiped his mouth. “I know our coworker can be annoying, but it’s not every day you ask to get breakfast with just me.”

You thought about your “coworker” Sam who was probably busy researching another case right now, even as you had just finished the last one. Either that, or trying to find something to kill the devil, which was still feeling as fruitless as it had before.

“Yeah, um, I guess I wanted to talk to you about something.” You said quite seriously, heart pounding in your chest.

“Shoot.” Dean had finally finished eating, face clean of crumbs and syrup. You looked into those gorgeous green eyes of his and wondered if this was really worth it. 

“I’m just gonna say it straight,” You pressed your lips together. “I have feelings for you, Dean.”

Dean stared at you for a moment, frozen. You could see he was processing. “What?”

“Like, romantic feelings.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you. “You been day drinkin’ or something?”

It was 11AM. “Dean, no, be serious.” You frowned. “Look, I know this might be coming off as sudden, but I just really wanted to tell you. And you can say whatever you want to me about it, but… I guess I just wanted to lay my cards out.”

Dean sighed heavily, his somewhat silly expression dropping. He gazed out the window a moment. “I… know.”

“You… know what?”

“I mean, I knew already. That you had feelings for me.”

This time, it was your turn to freeze. Your tongue turned to sandpaper. “What?”

Dean couldn’t seem to look at you. “I just never felt the same way, so I didn’t want to lead you on. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You pushed your plate away from you, and reached into your wallet to drop a 20 on the table. You knew you should say something, but this hurt way more than expected. You didn’t know how to react to this with anything other than embarrassment. This whole time? He knew? 

“Y/N, wait-” 

“I’m gonna go check on Sam, okay?” Your voice sounded warbled and strange, and you realized that it was because you were holding back tears. “Let’s just pretend this conversation didn’t happen. I’ll see you back at the motel.”

“Y/N-”

You were gone before he could get another word out. Outside, it was just a brisk walk back to the motel, opting to avoid the Impala so you could be alone. So much for hope. You felt like an idiot now, thinking back on all the times you and Dean had moments you thought might be more. This whole time he knew, and he had been desperately trying to get you to stay away from him. Maybe you’d just walk off a cliff.

Okay, you wouldn’t do that. But there was a burning feeling in your chest, and it didn’t alleviate by the time you walked into the motel room. Predictably, Sam was on his laptop, squinting at some article. As soon as he saw you, he shut the screen and turned his attention to you, noticing your shakiness.

“Woah, woah, Y/N, what’s wrong?” Sam stood up to approach you.

You turned away from him quickly, trying to hide the tears that were beginning to rapidly fall down your face. “Nothing! I’m okay!” You quickly entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and locking it.

“Y/N, seriously, what’s going on?” Sam was behind the door, and you could tell he was leaning on it to hear you. The worried inflection in his voice didn’t escape you.

“Nothing, seriously, okay?” You grabbed a washcloth and put your face in it, your shoulders shaking. “Just g-give me a minute.” You internally cursed yourself, trying to hold it together.

Sam didn’t respond, but you didn’t feel his presence leave the door. You quietly sniffled, reining in your tears as you choked back on your own spit. Fuck. You ran the washcloth under some hot water, pressing it to your face gently to wipe the nastiness away. After a few minutes, when you faced yourself in the mirror, you looked somewhat close to normal, although you knew in your heart you would never be the same again.

Quietly, you opened the door to see Sam standing by the doorframe, a concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong?” He said, softly.

“Sam.” You said, pushing him away, although he resisted. “Leave it be. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

As soon as you said that, Dean came through the door. Your eyes didn’t leave Sam’s face, but Sam turned, looking at his brother to see a slightly distressed expression. Something seemed to click internally, and he stood in front of you to shield you from his brother.

A silence fell over the three of you. You were sure Dean was going to bring it up again, and force you to talk. You knew that awkward tension between you two wasn’t going to stand. 

“Ready to hit the road?” Dean asked. You sucked in a sharp breath.

Guess you were wrong about Dean after all.

–

It was the fall of your sophomore year of high school. Your parents had dumped you with Bobby, again, alongside John Winchester’s kids. The three of you got along well enough, but you weren’t really friends. Dean was a year ahead of you, in his junior year, and Sam was still in middle school. In the mornings, Dean drove the three of you, dropping his younger brother off at the middle school before bringing you both to the local high school. In that short period of time where you were alone, you often didn’t talk, opting to listen to whatever heavy metal band he had put on.

You’d been in and out of different schools your whole life. Your parents had been hunters their whole lives, so it was no question they had a connection to John, who had been relentlessly searching for the demon that killed Mary. You didn’t speak to John often, but the times you did, you found there was very little care in his eyes.

Dean was too cool for you - he was a leather jacket wearing bad boy who cruised around with a different girl each week, while you mostly kept your head down and tried to do well in your classes. Sam was nice to you at home, but since you weren’t the same age, it was hard to connect to him. While Dean was satisfied being a lone wolf, you had always felt a desperate loneliness in your life. You couldn’t connect to other kids, because you were a hunter, and you couldn’t quite connect to the Winchester boys, because they were more hunter than you. 

You’d heard rumors Dean was taking a date to the homecoming dance. You weren’t sure if you were even going to go. 

On the evening of the dance, you’d decided to stay home. After Dean had gone and Bobby had retired for the night, you’d climbed up onto Bobby’s roof to look at the night sky. Sometimes, moments like this made you remember that you were all just the same people looking at the same sky, even with all the horrible things in the world. 

It was then that you saw a car ripping through the lot, and you bolted upright. John Winchester was returning, and you tried to see if your parents were following, but there wasn’t another car in sight. You ran downstairs, hoping to catch them, but it was only John, no other shadows stretching behind him in that dark night. That was when you knew you were truly alone.

Bobby told you it would get easier. You thought he was a liar.

After a funeral of fire and a quiet ceremony, you had nowhere to go. You were lucky Bobby was kind, because you were left with him. You spent the next few days avoiding everyone you could, because the pain of being in the world was the worst thing you could have possibly imagined. You barely ate, you barely slept. All you did was lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling hoping something could bring them back.

That was when you really became friends with Dean.

One night, he slipped into your room with a sandwich and a deck of cards. You hadn’t even noticed him come in in your listless state. When he finally approached you, you bolted upright like a scared deer.

“Hey, I brought you something to eat.” He set the sandwich on your nightstand. In the dark of the night, you could barely make out his face. Suddenly, a light cut across the room. He had brought a flashlight. 

You just nodded, staring at the sandwich. You knew you weren’t going to eat it.

He hummed as if he knew this was going to happen. “Wanna play cards?”

That’s how it started. He dealt and you two played every card game imaginable over the next two weeks. At some point, you began to question why he was still here. John clearly wanted to leave, but something was still tying him to Bobby’s place. You didn’t realize until later that it was you, at Dean’s request.

At some point, he started sleeping next to you, eating cold dinners with you in your room, and telling you crazy stories about his hookups and dates. He never told you hunting stories. It almost made you feel like things could become normal, like the two of you were really best friends that had met at school, and were having sleepovers every night.

“Dean,” You whispered one night, gently running a finger down his neck.

“What?” He murmured, turning to you with a soft look in his eyes.

“Thank you.” You said, eyes watering in appreciation. 

“Shh.” He whispered, closing his eyes again. “Don’t thank me for anything.”

Even back then, he was hopelessly selfless. 

But he vanished after that. John Winchester was dragging his boys away, and you barely had time to say goodbye before they disappeared. Then it was just you and Bobby, and even though Bobby was good to you, you fought like crazy. You were so angry at the world, angry that you couldn’t have closure, angry at everything. Bobby was the most patient man in the world with you, letting you scream and cuss and let everything out because he understood, too.

The next time you saw Dean was a few months later, the summer before your junior year. It was hot as hell and you remember standing in the car lot with Bobby, wearing a floppy baseball cap and denim shorts as dust kicked up all around you. John Winchester was back for a few weeks for a case, and he had brought his boys with him.

From then on, the three of you were a team. And you would never let that go with all of your heart.

–

Six weeks later, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Dean Winchester.

Things had changed. You spent more time with Sam, not that you were complaining, but it was different. Sam was your best friend, like your brother. He was good company, but at the same time, sometimes you couldn’t help but see the boy he used to be. Now that the devil was hot on your tail to make Sam say yes, you couldn’t help but feel he needed a little more protection.

Dean was weird around you. You knew it was because he felt awkward, which only made you feel worse. He couldn’t look you in the eyes anymore, and your bar excursions more often than not left you alone with Sam, Dean not even in reach. He usually stumbled back to your motel room within the next morning, grumbling. 

You’d changed everything with your confession. It was getting harder to be around the boys, even with Sam on your side and Cas continually popping in to urge you to do something or another. You also felt slightly betrayed by Cas, although you had spoken to no one about your conversation. It seemed so plain to you that he had been urging you to speak the truth, and now everything was different.

It came to a head when you had picked up burgers for the three of you after another case. Sam was nowhere to be seen. You dumped them on the tiny motel table, hoping to eat and just fall asleep on the couch like you usually did, when Dean came out of the bathroom, stumbling slightly. You looked up just in time to see a brunette woman with him, wrapped in a towel. You felt your stomach turn.

You cleared your throat rather dramatically. The two of them turned to look at you. Your face fell as your eyes met Dean’s. He gave you a half-smile. “Oops, sorry.” 

The woman looked at you shyly and then back at Dean, giggling a bit in embarrassment. God. It was like some kind of karmic torture specifically made for you. “I’ll just go.” You said, mouth turning into a straight line. 

Dean barely acknowledged you, giving you a thumbs up as he and the woman went back into the bathroom. You heard the shower turn on and felt the urge to throw up. You had no claim on Dean - he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. But you knew this had to end, right now.

You grabbed your duffel bag and put the rest of your things in it, zipping it up tightly and slinging it over your shoulder. You could hear the sounds of shower sex beginning, which just felt like a slap in the face. They really couldn’t wait until you stepped out, huh?

You went outside, feeling hot and heavy. Sam was coming in with his head down, having not expected you to step out at the same time, and you slammed into him. “Christ, Y/N, you’re a woman on a mission-” He cut himself off as he saw the expression on your face and the bag on your shoulder. “Woah, what’s happening?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Sam.” Your voice cracked, and you finally felt the dam break. Tears were flowing. “I want to help you two, you know I do. You’re my family. But I can’t do this with Dean anymore, I just can’t.”

Sam’s face softened. “Oh, Y/N.”

“Look, just call me if you need anything, and you know I’ll be there in a second. But I can’t be with you right now. I need to go somewhere else or I’ll drive myself insane.”

Sam reached for you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. You let yourself relax for a moment, tears staining his brown jacket. He rubbed your back slightly, and then you found yourself pushing him away. It was too much.

“Goodbye, Sam.” You whispered.

“I’ll call you.” He responded, a sad puppy-dog look on his face. Some things never changed.

You walked away from him and didn’t turn back. Maybe this would be the peace you needed, or maybe this was going to be your downfall. Either way, you knew that you had to distance yourself from the curse of Dean Winchester, or else you might fall.

–

You had gotten hot on the trail of a demon case, investigating in a small town by yourself. Demons had been popping up everywhere now that Lucifer was going to make a return, and you were doing your best to combat it. It had only been a week and a half since you’d left Sam and Dean, and you were feeling their absence. You’d only had brief stints as a solo hunter; more often than not, you had a Winchester behind you.

Sam had called you a few times, but you’d been keeping your conversations short, mostly because you felt like you were going to burst into tears every time you heard Dean in the background. Dean hadn’t reached out to you and you felt a part of you slipping away, like you’d officially severed whatever closeness the two of you had had before. You never thought something like this could have ever come between you two.

Currently, you were blasting Metallica as you drove to an abandoned warehouse you knew a few demons were hiding out at. You’d gotten some good intel from a crossroads, and were going to follow through on it by yourself. Armed with an angel blade you’d secured from Castiel, you felt unstoppable, if only because of your adrenaline rush.

You parked in the darkness far from the warehouse, intending to slink in silently. You grabbed your bag and your phone, using the cover of night to hide yourself as you approached the walls of the outside. Above, you could see a light on in the second floor. 

You slid your arm inside through a broken window and unlatched a door, letting yourself in. The inside of this place was decrepit, but also huge, making it a landmine for glass and random scraps. You tiptoed carefully upstairs, trying to gauge how many demons there could possibly be. You knew there were at least 4, which was already a lot for one person.

When you peeked into the second floor at the stairs, you saw 6 demons standing in a circle around a hazardous looking fire. “Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, wondering if this was a good time to retreat. Instead, you decided to do the stupid thing.

You pulled your phone out to play a recording you’d captured a long time ago of yourself reading an exorcism. As soon as it started, all 6 demons whipped around to you, and began to charge.

“It’s the Winchester girl! Get her!”

You ran, clutching your phone as the exorcism played. You could tell it was affecting them, as they began to struggle to move, but one demon, a woman with brown hair that made you think of Dean and the woman in the shower, leapt at you, pinning you down. You twisted, trying to grab your angel blade, but she grabbed her own knife and stabbed you in the stomach. You screamed, lurching sideways as you escaped her grasp, her own body beginning to spasm at the sound of the exorcism. 

You stood, shakily, as a male demon ran towards you. You kicked the brunette, her black demonic essence escaping as the male demon swung at you. You swung back, not managing to get him until his body began to convulse as well. You were running on fumes, adrenaline fueling your body as you pushed him away.

Two female demons began to wrestle control back to their bodies, and one of them willed scrap pieces of glass at you, throwing you backwards as shards of glass pierced your arm. You shrieked, trying not to feel the pain as she grabbed your phone and flung it to the ground. It wasn’t hard enough to break it, but apparently enough to crack it enough that the recording began to stutter. And that was enough. Four demons out of six had been exorcized, and the woman who had thrown the glass at you was going to kill you. Another man stood behind her, trying to catch his breath.

You played hard to get, attempting to dodge their onslaught of attacks until you sideswept the man, stabbing him with the angel blade and seeing that satisfactory orange glow of death. Only the woman remained, and she turned to you with a sneer.

“I thought your guard dogs would be coming to rescue you by now. Is this a suicide mission?”

“Shut up.” You growled, running towards her and pinning her against the wall.

“I heard you and Deany-weany had a huge breakup, is that true?” She snickered, not even caring you had her pinned.

“I said…” You stabbed her in the face, angel blade piercing her skull with ease. “Shut up.”

She laughed slightly as her body shook, and then she was dead.

You felt the veil of adrenaline leave your body in that moment, and then you could tell you were completely fucked. Your stab wound was bad, really bad, and you could see you’d lost a lot of blood. The glass that pierced your arm was deep in your skin, and you could see the way it had torn your flesh. You felt sick as you suddenly collapsed.

“Little ol’ me, taking down six demons?” You felt delusional, laughing a little as you reached for your cracked phone. “I’m a miracle worker.”

You dialed the first number you knew. He picked up within half a second, despite everything.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Dean’s voice crackled through the speaker, although you could barely make him out with how broken your phone was. You wondered if you were hallucinating his response, too.

“Dean,” You muttered, breathing labored. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” His voice was growing panicked.

You let out a sharp laugh. “Fuck.”

“Where the hell are you?!”

“See you later, Dean.” You whispered, closing your eyes. You could feel darkness coming over you.

“Y/N!? Wait!” His voice grew fainter and fainter until it was just a dim thought in the distance, and then you disappeared into the dark.

–

When you woke up, you were surprised you were still alive.

You gained consciousness so quickly you felt it was almost a dream. Suddenly and quickly, you sat up, too alert for your liking and too uncertain about what was going on to be lethargic. You looked around. 

You were in the hospital, a heart monitor beeping next to you. There were thick bandages wrapped around your midsection, and your left arm was covered in stitches. You pulled back the blanket and saw bruises across your legs.

“Y’know, I always thought Sam was better for you.”

You whipped to your right and saw Dean, alone, sitting in a hospital chair. It looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“What?” You whispered, not daring to believe your eyes.

“He’s a better man than me, Y/N.” He said, looking at you with those soft emerald eyes. “Because if I were him, I’d have beat the shit out of me a long time ago.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Dean?” You asked, confused. The brightness of the room made it hard to concentrate, like you still couldn’t tell if this was real.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m an idiot.” He reached for you and you let him, your hands engulfed in his. Dean was always so warm, his hands calloused and rough from years and years of hard work. The way you fit together; it was natural.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything.” You replied, finally understanding. “It’s not your fault you don’t have feelings for me.”

“That’s the thing, though.” He chuckled wryly like you’d told a bad joke. “I…”

“You… what?”

“I do. I have feelings for you.”

You sat in stunned silence. First there was anger, but then confusion. You couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Okay, again, what the hell are you talking about?” You cocked your head at him, squinting your eyes in what you could only assume was in a very Castiel manner.

“Everyone I’ve ever loved I’ve seen get hurt.” Dean said, tightening his grip on you. “Everyone in my life is always in danger. And you…” He chuckled again, and you saw the hint of tears forming in his eyes. “You were always the best of all of them, y’know? You never put up with my shit. You let me sing in the car. You let me play my music louder than anything when we used to drive to school together.”

He paused, and you waited with bated breath for him to continue.

“I just thought if I pushed you away you’d leave and find a better life.” He said, finally. “Because it’s what you deserve. Because I can’t give you what you deserve.”

You stared at him, shocked. Even in the worst cases, even in his own stupid way, Dean was still the most idiotically selfless man you knew. You let out a sigh.

“You know, I’m not some helpless damsel.” You said, squeezing his hands back.

“God, sweetheart, do I know that. You took out six fucking demons by yourself, killer.” Dean almost laughed. “I’d be angry if I wasn’t so relieved you’re still alive.”

“Right, then, you know!” You cried. “You know I’ve been taking care of myself this whole time. If I wanted a different life, I’d choose it. But as it stands, I want this life with you.”

You leaned in closer to Dean, as close as the proximity between a hospital bed and a chair could give you. He looked confused. “But why?”

“Dean, road-tripping with you and your brother, stopping the apocalypse, fighting monsters, saving people - that’s as close as perfect as life can get, I think.”

Tears dripped down his face. “Y/N, I’m so, so sorry for everything.”

“You better be damn sorry!” You laughed this time, pressing your forehead against his. “I can’t believe how big of an idiot you are.”

“Me neither,” he whispered, glancing at your lips for a moment before looking back at you. “Can I…?”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

He pressed his lips against yours, pulling you closer to him. His arms tugged at your waist, bringing you in, closer, closer, closer still until you felt there couldn’t possibly be any distance between you. He was so desperate, not letting you pull away as you made out on the hospital bed, hands pulling at you and clawing at your hair. When you finally pulled away, you were breathless.

When you looked at each other again, there were stars in his eyes. “You know everybody else I’d been with was meaningless before this, right?” 

With the way he was looking at you, there was no way you could ever doubt him. But still, you pulled away. He looked hurt. “I want to believe you, Dean. But you still hurt me.” 

He nodded solemnly, in understanding. 

“But I want to give this a shot, if you do.” 

He perked up, a smile spreading across his face. “Of course I do, baby.”

You smiled at that. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”

He nodded, and then sat up like he remembered something. “Before I forget.” Dean reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two rather squashed looking sandwiches wrapped in plastic. In his other hand, he took out a deck of cards. “I thought you might be hungry, and maybe we could eat over a game of cards?”

You split into the biggest grin you could muster. “I’d love that.”

[clairenovakz]

reminder my requests are always open :D

hello 👋 i would love to write anything for spn:)) pls send me requests!

[clairenovakz]

desperation (sam winchester x reader)

pairing: sam x reader, kind of dean x reader warnings: canon-level violence, obsessive behavior, dubcon (maybe? you and dean are under the effect of a curse) summary: after heading to a small town in montana, dean isn’t himself. sam saves you when you need him the most. word count: 4.2k a/n: i have some requests to do but i really wanted to do something like this! i love tropey shit, and evil witches. and maybe after this i’ll write some dean x reader where he isn’t completely insane lol

“Get this,” Sam said, almost slapping the paper on the table of the bunker as you and Dean had walked in. Dean was carrying a pumpkin pie in one hand and a canister of whipped cream in the other, looking cartoonishly idiotic. “The FBI agents sent in to investigate these supposed ‘new age serial killer’ kills in Montana literally murdered each other.”

“Hmm.” You leaned over Sam’s shoulder to peer over the newspaper. Their grisly deaths were painted in an eerie shadow of blood over the page. “That is weird.”

“That’s not the whole story,” Sam raised an eyebrow at you and when you turned you realized you were barely a hair away from him. You stumbled back, muttering a soft apology. “They murdered each other right after they had an impromptu wedding.”

“Wedding…?” Dean had set the pie down and he picked up the paper, squinting at it.

“They married each other.” 

You and Dean looked at each other before returning your gazes back to Sam. 

“Sounds witchy to me. I’m in.” You said, snagging the whipped cream canister from the table.

Sam broke into a wide grin as you smiled back, before shooting whipped cream in your mouth. 

x

The drive to Montana was uneventful. You’d always let the brothers sit with each other in the front, mostly to save yourself from getting mixed up in some stupid argument. You’d fallen asleep quickly after the first hour, and when Dean stopped for gas, you stepped outside to stretch your legs. Sam followed behind you, affectionately touching your shoulder before going into the gas station store muttering something about getting a drink.

Dean gave you a shit-eating grin and you hit him in the arm. “Hey!” He protested, mockingly rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”

“Nothing, asshole.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I didn’t say anything, kid.” He teased, but then emphatically glanced towards where Sam had gone. “But you gonna bang him or what?”

You hit him again. “Jesus, Dean, shut up!”

Dean burst into a fit of laughter as he pumped gas into the Impala. You tried to hit him again but he held you back easily, neither of you really putting in that much effort to wrestle properly. “I’m just sayin’, I know I’d hit you up if I knew you were into me. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Your whole face turned bright red. “I appreciate the sentiment, dude. Now shut up for real or I’ll kill you.”

“Hey!” Dean laughed again. “I’m just saying, Y/N. You got a bangin’ bod!”

It was at this moment that Sam had decided to return, appearing behind you like some kind of ghost. You nearly screeched when you felt a hand on your shoulder, and your blush intensified.

“What are you two talking about over here?” Sam handed you your favorite soda, and you couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Just about all the hot dudes Y/N’s got lining up to hit her up.” Dean barely reacted as you hit him again.

“Hm.” Sam gave you an amused look, but didn’t seem to want to elaborate.

“Thanks for the soda, Sam. I appreciate it.” You tried to pivot the conversation, opening the car door to get back inside.

“Dude, you didn’t get me one?!” You laughed at Dean’s annoyance, and then shut the car door shut. Through the window, Sam gave you a cheeky grin.

x

The motels you tended to stay at were somehow always the dingiest. This one smelled distinctly like mildew, and you had a feeling there might be a mold problem somewhere. That, however, was distinctly not your problem. 

Dean held out credit cards to you like he was dealing you cards, and you flicked one up that read ‘Polly Pocketson’, which was about the stupidest name you think you’d ever heard. Not like the guy behind the counter cared, anyway, when he rang you up for two rooms. The boys had once insisted you guys all stay together in one room, but you’d always counter-insisted on being on your own. You didn’t need them to coddle you, not when you’d been hunting on your own for a long time before you’d ever even met them.

After you’d dropped your stuff off in the other room, the three of you suited up to do some investigating. As you stepped outside, Dean suddenly appeared next to you. You started, slightly, not expecting him to stand so close. Sam came out a moment after, looking sharp in his suit and you had to pull back a bit of drool.

“Lookin’ spiffy, Y/N.” Dean winked at you. You looked down at your slightly rumpled FBI attire and wondered exactly what had compelled him to compliment you.

“Uh, thanks…?” You smoothed down your shirt and gave him a half smile. “Should we split up? I can hit the morgue to check out the FBI guys if you guys wanna case the town.”

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but Dean spoke first. “I think I should go with you, Y/N.”

You gave him a confused look. “Oh, sure, I mean, I don’t mind looking at some dead bodies on my own. You guys are way better at the investigating part, anyway.”

Dean suddenly grabbed your arm. “No. We should stick together. Sam can investigate alone.”

There was suddenly a tense silence as you looked at the way Dean was gripping you. You gently shook him off. He seemed slightly confused at his own behavior as well. You and Sam made eye contact and he shrugged, not understanding either. You just nodded. “Sure, Dean. Let’s get going, then.”

Sam patted your shoulder again, as if reassuring you things would be okay. You felt slightly better after that, heading into the Impala with Dean as Sam disappeared down the sidewalk. 

You and Dean had always been close - like family. You and Sam had been even closer, at times, but you’d never wanted to breach the perfect dynamic you had with them. The three of you had been through some truly insane things, and maybe you couldn’t help but daydream about making out with Sam sometimes, but daydreams were only daydreams. You’d never thought you’d ever feel less at home with them.

But as Dean pulled away from the motel, there was a tension hanging over you you’d never felt before. Dean would never do anything to hurt you, you thought to yourself. He was your best friend.

“You okay, Dean?” You asked quietly, looking at the way he was gripping the steering wheel.

“Fine.” He grumbled, casting a strange glance at you. “Headache. I dunno.”

You remained silent as the two of you drove to the morgue.

x

“Good lord.” You murmured under your breath as you pulled the body out in the morgue.

A pasty, white man - formerly known as Hank Jenkins, FBI agent - laid before you, body torn up and bloodied. His right hand, which still had a very new looking wedding ring on it, was bruised and completely purple. His chest had been ripped open, no heart to be seen. Beside him, you and Dean had pulled out a second body, a woman named Alyssa Hardwick. She was his partner.

“Apparently his heart was ripped out.” Dean said, matter-of-factly as he raised his eyebrows at the scene. He used a pair of silver tongs to pry open the chest cavity a little more, whistling at the damage. “Little more intense than the usual werewolf, though.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” You responded, peering at the bruised hand. You prodded it slightly, and then gently used your fingers to pry at the ring. It wouldn’t budge. In fact, upon closer inspection, it almost seemed welded to the finger. “Christ. How did this even happen?”

Dean leaned down beside you and you brushed shoulders. You stepped back from him slightly, but he followed you, keeping your shoulders touching. You gave him an odd look but he wasn’t looking at you, just intently looking at the ring.

“Nice ring, right?”

You frowned at him. “I guess?”

He hummed to himself as he touched the bruised skin. “It’s almost like the hand was being drained of its blood.” The fingers were weird and wrinkly, almost decomposing, and he squished one slightly. “Or something. Definitely not a natural bruising.”

“The other agent…” You motioned to the other body you had pulled out, this one’s twin killer. “I have a feeling it’ll be the same.”

Dean stood to his full height and gently took your wrist in his. “Yeah, I’d say.” 

You stared at the way he was holding you. Were you seriously overthinking this, or did he just need a crutch right now? You decided not to question it. “We should talk to Sam.”

At the mention of his brother’s name, Dean’s grip on you got just a bit harder. He clenched his jaw. “You’re really obsessed with the guy, aren’t you?”

“What?” You couldn’t even comprehend what Dean was saying. 

“Nevermind. Let’s go.”

He didn’t let go of you as the two of you put the morgue back together, exiting back to the Impala. You felt unsettled as you sat beside Dean, uncertain of what had changed in your dynamic in the time you had entered Montana. He was gripping the wheel even harder this time, and you swore you could see him twitching. You almost felt like he could’ve been drugged, but the three of you hadn’t really eaten since getting here. Last meal you had was a big breakfast a few miles out of town, before you’d stopped at the motel. You thought briefly about that- maybe Dean just needed a good meal?

You’d dealt with hangry Dean before, though. And it wasn’t like this.

You let the car ride sit in silence before you couldn’t handle it anymore. “Dean, is there something on your mind?”

He suddenly pulled the car over. The two of you sat on a random side street. It was afternoon now, and even though it was bright out, you suddenly felt very cold.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something.” Dean looked at you with cold eyes, although his expression seemed soft. He reached a hand out and placed it on your thigh. You resisted the urge to recoil.

“Um, yeah?”

“I don’t want you to be with Sam.” He nearly growled, coming closer to you. “I want you to be with me.”

You actually leaned back this time, visibly confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You belong with me, Y/N. Don’t you see?” Dean furrowed his brow. “Sam isn’t ever going to see you like that. But I do. And you’re perfect. You’d only be more perfect if you would be with me forever.”

You swallowed thickly. This was unexpected. Dean was, certainly, easy on the eyes. But the way he was leaning towards you, hand gripping your thigh - it was making you sweat. You felt a nervous laugh come from the back of your throat that you tried to hold back. This had to be some kind of sick, cosmic joke.

“Dean…” You started, trying to quickly think about how you were going to phrase this rejection. But before you could say another word, your phone rang.

The two of you stared at each other before Dean leaned back, and you pulled out your cell. It was Sam.

“Hey.” You answered, not looking Dean in the eye. “What’s up?”

“Come back to the motel. I’ve got a lot to show you guys.”

“We’re on our way.” You motioned to Dean, and he started the car. The trip to the motel was set in an uncomfortable mood. But Dean didn’t say anything, so you didn’t either.

x

You hurried back into the motel room to greet Sam. That scent of mildew hit you again, and it only served to ramp up your unease. Dean seemed to be acting more normal now, or at least, he wasn’t openly coming on to you. There was something unreadable in his expression that you didn’t really want to dissect right now.

“Hey,” Sam smiled at you and you felt a familiar dust of pink bloom on your cheeks.

“Hey, Sam.” You played it off, real casual. Nothing weird happened in the car, don’t worry! 

“So, I spoke to some of the people related to the vics. Looks like all the vics had ‘twin kills,’ just like the FBI agents.” Sam opened up a small notepad he had evidently taken notes in. “And a lot of them tried to elope. But the weird thing is…” He paused.

“Stop with the cliffhangers, Sammy.” Dean joked, but for some reason he didn’t sound as playful as he usually did.

Sam gave him a confused look before continuing. “Look, every pair of vics tried to elope. In fact, they all bought wedding rings. And every pair was also not in relationships or in other relationships with different people. The weird thing is, every person I spoke to that knew the victims claimed that none of them were having affairs.”

That gave you pause. “Wait, so you’re saying… Alyssa and Hank, the FBI agents, weren’t cursed to kill each other because they were cheating on their partners with each other?”

“It’s a theory,” Sam said. “When I talked to Ben, brother of that college girl vic? He said she was so madly in love with her boyfriend that it didn’t make sense for her to run off with another man.” His expression became a straight line. “Much less, kill each other for it.”

“The agents, their hearts were ripped out.” You said, beginning to pace. “And their wedding rings were sucking the life out of them. Almost making them decompose faster than they normally would, although from what we saw it had only spread up the arm.”

You stopped. As you looked at the decrepit motel wall, you could see almost a thin line of mold running down the cracks. That mildew smell; it was fucking everywhere. 

Dean had only started acting weird after you got to the motel.

You turned very slowly, trying to still your beating heart. But when you turned, Dean was boring his eyes right into you. “Sam,” you said, quietly. “Did you investigate the jewelry place they’d gotten their rings from?”

Sam looked at you oddly. “No, but, good idea…” He couldn’t seem to decipher why you were acting so strangely, until he looked at his brother. 

Everything happened so fast. One second, Dean was staring at you like you were a wild animal, and in the next, he pounced. He was on top of you suddenly, pinning you to the ground crazily. “Y/N, you don’t fucking deserve him!” He yelled, hands grabbing your hair and slamming you hard. Your head was spinning, unable to process what was happening.

“Dean, what the fuck!” Sam was suddenly upon him, trying to rip him off of you. You grabbed at him wildly as he moved his hands down your face, his legs trapping you beneath him as you tried to fight him off. His hands closed around your neck.

“You’re gonna love me fuckin’ forever, baby.” Dean whispered, coming in close to kiss you. You saw, then, that when he opened his mouth, tendrils of something fungal were coming out of him.

Ah, you thought, I’m going to die because of some idiot men. 

That’s the last thing you consciously thought before everything went dark.

x 

When you woke up, you were tied to the motel bed. You immediately tried to sit up and get your bearings, but you found you couldn’t move. Sam was nowhere to be seen, but you could see a large stain of blood across the floor, and dragging marks towards the closed bathroom door.

Oh god. You felt sick at the thought of Dean killing his brother in some deranged act of love for you. 

Speaking of, Dean was sitting next to you on the bed, softly stroking your hair. “Hey, you’re awake.” He smiled at you, and you saw that same fungal mold sprouting from his teeth. “You should feel the mold taking effect soon.”

“Wha…” You tried to speak, unable to form words for a bit. “Wait… you know… what’s going on? And you’re… letting it happen?”

“Y/N,” Dean cooed, coming closer to you. “I know this isn’t how it was. But if this is what it feels like to love you, I don’t want to know anything else.”

Now you were really going to be sick. 

“What… did you do… with Sam?” You rasped, feeling faint. Dean seemed to catch on to your dizziness and held you closer to him.

“Don’t worry about him, babe.” You could feel Dean smile as he pressed his nose to your hair. “I got rid of him for us.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. You knew there was no reason to believe this twisted version of Dean, and that Sam was plenty capable on his own, but your heart couldn’t take it. Your Sammy… gone? All for some twisted version of love?

You remembered last week when Sam had gone on a grocery run, he’d left your favorite mug out with coffee for you in the morning so you didn’t have to make it yourself. You remembered a little bit before that how he’d spent time with you looking at dogs to adopt, just for fun because you knew you wouldn’t really want one right now. And you remembered how he curled into you when he had a nightmare and how you would do the same.

Dean was your best friend. But he didn’t have anything on Sam, not to you, at least.

“Dean…” You felt a soft cry come up in your throat. The dizziness was coming over you now. You could feel the mystical mold taking hold in your heart. 

“Yeah, honey?” He looked at you with adoration in his eyes.

You smiled. “I love you so much.” You leaned up and kissed him. And it felt so right and perfect and beautiful and you loved him so much you just wanted to eat him whole. 

He kissed you back fervently, the two of you growing ever closer. He undid your bindings and cupped your face, unable to stop. You didn’t need to breathe anymore. 

A loud BANG rudely interrupted you. You separated quickly to see Sam shove in through the front door.

“How the fuck are you alive?” Dean yelled, standing up and immediately grabbing his gun off the nightstand.

“Dean, I know you don’t really want to do this.” Sam said evenly, immediately recognizing the puffiness of your makeout lips. “But you really need to ask for consent.”

“He has my consent.” You said sharply, standing up and sliding behind Dean. 

“Y/N,” Sam’s expression dropped. “Fuck.”

“He gave me what you never could, Sam!” You yelled, pointing at him aggressively. “A beating heart. The real love of a man. And…” You saw it in Dean’s pocket and pulled it out. A small box bearing two rings. “The promise of forever.”

Sam shifted his stance. You could see his expression was heartbroken, but you couldn’t understand why. Sam hadn’t loved you enough. This you were certain. 

“Y/N, I promise, when this is all over, I’ll make it up to you.” Sam said softly, hazel eyes quivering slightly as he drew a small vial from his pocket. “I paid a visit to our witchy friend at the jewelry store.”

“We don’t want whatever the hell you’ve got, Sam.” Dean said, stepping forward and cocking his gun. “Don’t you understand real love when you see it?”

“She’s dead now, but she told me how to reverse the curse.” Sam was unphased, stepping forward as well. “All I need to do is give this to you guys. Then we’ll all go back to normal and this will be a bad dream.”

“Sam, this is our normal! Loving you was a mistake. It always was.” You said harshly, still sticking by Dean.

Sam sucked in a breath. His eyes trailed over you with desperation. “Y/N, please, you have to know.”

“Know what?”

“That I always loved you. Every moment of our time together. That was love, to me.” He shuddered, slightly, as he struggled to get closer to the two of you.

You were at a loss for words. Somehow, you could remember the moments you had together, but they didn’t feel meaningful at all. There was a great fog clouding your brain and you stopped for a moment, confused. At your hesitation, Dean turned to look at you.

That moment was enough for Sam to charge. 

Sam leaped onto Dean and punched him square in the jaw, fumbling the gun and throwing it to the ground. Dean and Sam wrestled for a moment, and you jumped in, trying to pull Sam away. He punched you too, hard, and you flew back for a moment clutching your nose. It was bleeding.

Sam grappled with Dean and held him down as he forced his mouth open, dumping part of the contents of the red liquid inside. Afraid, you backed away from him, not wanting your love to be changed. “No, Sam! Don’t! Don’t!” Dean was knocked out cold, eyes shut.

Sam didn’t say anything as he forced you down too, pouring the liquid into your mouth. But he had a sad expression on his face as your swallowed every last drop, falling back into a deep sleep.

x

When you woke up, you were on the bed.

Dean was on the ground, sitting up slightly and looking around. Again, there was no sign of Sam, but you had a feeling you knew where he was. Groaning, you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

“Y/N.” Dean said softly, and you turned to him with a sheepish smile.

“Hey, Dean.”

“Look…” you could see a thousand apologies on his lips, and you shook your head.

“Dean. It’s okay.”

Dean flinched at that. “How could it be? I forced myself on you, Y/N. It was disgusting.”

You almost laughed at that. Only self-sacrifical Dean Winchester would apologize for something out of his control.

“It’s really okay, Dean.” You both stood up and he seemed to make himself smaller.

“I hope you know I don’t mean anything I said,” he said, pursing his lips. 

“Oh, what, you’re not madly in love with me?” You elbowed him, still trying to break the tension.

“God, shut up. You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” He groaned. There he was- your regular Dean was back.

“Nope.” You smiled at him, then started for the door. “But I need to talk to Sam, like, now.”

“Yeah.” Dean was close behind you. “I think I need to detox from this fucking gross mold. I’ll see you lovebirds in the car.”

The two of you separated as you headed to your separate room. You saw Sam standing outside already, leaning against the door in thought.

“Hey, Sammy.” You said, leaning beside him.

“Y/N.” Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he saw you, and then glanced at his brother getting in the Impala. “Are you okay?”

You looked at him a long moment before throwing your arms around him. He stumbled, slightly, before squeezing you tightly.

“Yeah, thank you.” You replied, not wanting to let go. You wanted to memorize the shape of his hands on your back and the way his jacket smelled. 

“Look, about what happened…” Sam started, pulling back from you slightly. He looked a little dizzy from your close contact, and you felt satisfied knowing you had the same effect on each other.

“Sam,” You said seriously. “You have to know.”

“Know what?” He looked at you, confused.

“That I’ve always loved you, duh.” You smiled at him, remembering what he said to you earlier. “And that none of what I said under the influence of the mold was true.” You squeezed his sides again, trying to retain that closeness. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. I’m sorry you even had to see me with Dean.”

He was at a loss for words. You squeezed him again to pump some life into him. 

“Still with me, Sam?”

“Yeah, Y/N. Always.” Sam swooped you up and hugged you tight, laughing. “Thank god. I was afraid…”

“I know.”

“But…”

“Yeah, I know.” You laughed, too. “I promise, you’re the only Winchester for me.”

Sam pulled away from you just enough to lean down and kiss you, sweetly. You kissed him back with ferocity, and he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in close. You felt sparks as you kissed, the way his hands grabbed at you and the way his hair felt under your fingers. This was everything you’d ever wanted, and more.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, pulling away just to go back for more. You smiled into that kiss, half-giggling as he kept pulling you in, his strong hands keeping you tethered. God, you wanted to be close to him.

“Hey, losers!” The two of you separated to hear Dean honking the Impala at you. “We’re wasting daylight! Hurry up already!”

You smiled at Sam, and he smiled back. Some things would never change.

[clairenovakz]

sorry for not posting in a while... more writing coming soon !!

[clairenovakz]

Hello! I have also been rewatching supernatural! I saw you wrote a fic similar to asylum and was wondering if you’d write something similar to provenance maybe. As an art student Sarah and Sam made me fall for Sam so much more like pls art history flirt with me 😅. I was wondering if you could do a fic where maybe there’s a haunted painting in the readers college and Sam and dean come hear about it. Throughout the hunt the reader and Sam get close. Hope that’s alright! Thank you!

here you go!!

[clairenovakz]

art school blues (sam winchester x reader)

pairing: sam x reader warnings: general violence, grief summary: when your roommate is murdered, two fbi agents show up to solve the case. word count: 3.7k a/n: please send me feedback!! i would love to hear any of your thoughts :-) i imagine this is set around like season 3-4, or at least imagine a younger sam and dean. enjoy!

"Are you Y/N?"

"Who's asking?"

“I’m agent Angus and this is agent Young, can we ask you a few questions?”

“I already talked to the local police, why do I have to talk to the FBI too?” You asked, crossing your arms.

The two men lingering in your doorway glanced at each other briefly. The taller one - agent Young - turned and gave you a polite smile. “Ma’am, this matter has been turned over to the FBI, so we just want to do some routine questioning. It won’t take too long.”

You hesitated. They seemed a little young to be FBI agents, but you hardly had any reason to doubt them. You crossed your arms and sighed, stepping back to let them into your apartment. “Come in.”

The events of the past few days had been harrowing, to say the least. You moved the various blankets you had been bundling up in the past few days on the couch with to make space to sit. Agent Angus and Young sat across from you, both leaning towards you. You were already nervous about the FBI being in your dinky college apartment - even moreso now that they were looking at you so intently. Does it pay to be this cute? You wondered thoughtlessly, shyly checking out Agent Young’s perfectly tailored suit and the way his hands flexed when they rested on his knees.

You cleared your throat and began to recall what had happened.

You and your roommate, Tara, were at the library, studying for upcoming midterms. It was past 10 already - most students had gone back to the dorms and it was quiet. As an art history student, you’d been meticulously making flashcards and taking notes to help you remember the various artists and their works. Even though you loved art, you had a hard time remembering exactly where a lot of the work originated. Tara was quizzing you, while you took notes on the ones that you kept forgetting.

“Y/N, I think you’re good. The test is gonna be fine,” Tara reassured you, finally setting down the rest of your flashcards. She leaned back and stretched her arms, clearly cramped from hunching over a table for the past two hours.

“I know…” You groaned and laid your head on the table, the coolness of the wood feeling good against your flushed skin. “I just really can’t afford to get lower than a C on this one.”

“Relax,” Tara leaned down with you and you brought her eyes to hers. “I think all you need now is a good nights sleep. We should head out anyway, it’s pretty late. I think the library is probably closing soon.”

You sat up and nodded, beginning to gather your materials silently. Tara stood and pulled her coat on. “Where are you going?” You asked, realizing she was already stepping away from the table.

“Relax. Just gonna pee. See you in a sec!” She tossed her hair and began walking towards the bathroom.

You smiled slightly to yourself and finished grabbing your books, when the lights suddenly flickered. You looked around. No one was around. There were a few large paintings that were up on the walls, and you tried to pinpoint if they were anything notable, but you didn’t really recognize them. Figures. Maybe all your studying had gone to waste…

The light flickered again. You’d never seen this building have power problems, and it was beginning to unsettle you. You quickly slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to the bathroom to find Tara. 

“Tara?” Stepping inside the library bathroom, the lights went dark again, before coming back. It was eerily quiet. Swallowing thickly, you pushed open the first stall. Nothing. “Tara, hello?”

When you opened the second stall, you couldn’t contain your scream. Tara was there, but there was blood splattered all over the stall. Her body, completely covered in blood, was near unrecognizable to you. As you stepped back in horror, you turned slightly and saw a woman standing next to you. 

You bolted. Running to the library doors, you raced outside and called 911, hoping that this was some sick dream.

It hadn’t been. As you finished recounting your story, agent Young leaned towards you and put a hand over yours. “It’s okay, just breathe.”

You hadn’t even realized that you were trembling. You looked up at his warm hazel eyes, and nodded only slightly. “I haven’t been able to go back to my room since she died. It’s just too empty back there.” You gestured vaguely to the hallway, where your and Tara’s rooms faced each other. The couch was your home now, you were sure of that.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Y/N.” Agent Young squeezed your hand.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you need anything else, agents, or can I be alone now?”

“Would you maybe show us around the library?” Agent Angus spoke up, flashing you a smile. You thought for a second. Better to stay around your empty apartment, or actually try to get justice for Tara? Yeah. You knew what you were gonna do.

X 

The school library was taped off, but with no police around, the agents went under it and let you in after them. You had always loved this library - it was beautiful, architecturally, and you loved the warm and communal feeling you always got when you went in. Now, walking inside, all you could feel was a cold chill running up your spine.

It was big inside, with sprawling tables for students to study at and rows and rows of books. You looked up at the familiar paintings that lined the walls, and something caught your eye that you hadn’t noticed before. “Huh.”

Agent Young sidled up beside you. “What’s wrong?”

You pointed to a painting above the circulation desk. “That one must be new, I think. I don’t recognize it.”

The painting depicted a young woman with her arms folded over her legs, smiling serenely. Her hair was wispy and blonde, and she wore an elegant white dress. You didn’t recognize it.

Agent Angus went up to the painting to get a closer look. Just as you were about to ask what seemed so important, agent Young put a hand on your shoulder. “Would you mind showing me the bathroom?”

“Sure,” You lead him away towards the back, into a small side hallway that lead to both bathrooms. You stopped, suddenly feeling sick. “Um… would you mind if I waited out here, agent?” A pain-stricken expression crossed your face as you remembered what you had seen.

Agent Young looked at you softly. “You can call me Sam.” He said, before nodding. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped inside the women’s bathroom, leaving you alone.

You leaned against the wall and stared at your shoes. For the first time since you saw Tara, you noticed there was some blood splattered against the side of your shoe. You leaned down to try to scrape it off, and suddenly found that tears were pouring out of you. “Oh, God.” You muttered to yourself, curling in on yourself, trying to forget the tragedy you’d experienced. You didn’t have many people in your life - an unkind family and introverted lifestyle had led Tara to be your closest friend. And she was really, truly gone.

You didn’t even notice when Sam had stepped out of the bathroom, but suddenly felt arms wrap around you. You pulled him close to you, suddenly just wanting comfort that you hadn’t gotten. “Sam…” You gasped, trying to pull yourself together. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t say that,” he replied, sternly but with genuine fondness. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He squeezed you tightly, holding you to his shoulder as you cried out for a little bit.

You pulled back, looking at his face. He couldn’t be much older than you, still looking like a boy in a handsome suit. His hair, long and soft, tickled your cheek a bit. You were so close to him. He suddenly flushed with color and cleared his throat. “Here.” He held a hand out to you, which you accepted, and pulled you up. “You okay?”

You smiled a little. “Yeah, thanks.” Suddenly bashful, you didn’t know how to break the tension.

“Hey.” Agent Angus suddenly appeared, rounding the corner with an inquisitive look. “What’re you guys doing?”

“Nothing.” Sam said quickly, pulling away from you. You were suddenly offended, and you scoffed. Sam looked back at you and you realized he was still blushing, looking slightly disheveled and a little less put together than he had been. He looked away from you quickly, and you fought the urge to laugh. An FBI agent getting all flustered because of you? It was endearing.

“Look, I think we’ve got all we need from here. Let’s go.” Agent Angus motioned for the two of you to leave. You were glad to get away from here, and followed the two of them from a slight distance as you left the library. They seemed engrossed in a private conversation, so when you got closer to them you cleared your throat.

“Thanks for looking into Tara’s death,” You said, sincerely. “But I’m gonna go now if you really don’t need anything else.”

“Here,” Sam handed you a card. “Give us a call if you find out anything else.”

Agent Angus suddenly nudged him and Sam shot him the bitchiest expression you’d ever seen. You swore, if you didn’t know them, you’d think they were like brothers. You laughed a little at that. “Sure. Thanks.” You pocketed the card.

You couldn’t wait to eat takeout when you got home. It had been a long day.

x

“Y/N.”

You groaned.

“Y/N. Y/N. Please.”

You turned in bed, not wanting to open your eyes.

“Please, Y/N. I need your help.”

You shot awake, suddenly breathing hard. You swore you’d just… 

You blinked in the darkness. “Tara?” You whispered, feeling foolish. Her voice had been right in your ear, you swore. You felt sadness well up in your throat again. “Tara, are you there?”

There was no response. You threw your blanket off and got out of bed, knowing there was nothing else you could do about sleep now. You had to do something. Go somewhere.

When you started walking across campus, it wasn’t a surprise when your feet carried you back to the library. What was a surprise was that even though it was dark inside, you could see a flicker of a flashlight through the windows. Concerned, you ran closer, bypassing the tape once again. 

It was dark and cold out. You wished you’d grabbed a jacket. Somehow, being pressed against the front door of the library did not warm you up at all. It felt even colder.

Had that really been Tara’s voice you’d heard earlier? Or was it just a bad dream? You missed her. You wished you’d gotten to say goodbye, or anything at all, before you were never going to see her again. 

What were you really doing here? 

“I want answers.” You told yourself, placing a hand on the library’s door handle. “I need to know the truth.”

Bracing yourself, you slowly stepped inside. 

“Hello?” You called out, a half-yell because you were still afraid. Moving slowly in the darkness, you stepped closer to the bookshelves, wanting something to anchor yourself. “Is anybody in here?”

A creak sounded close to you. You turned around quickly, but saw nothing. “Hello?” You tried again, feeling like you were close to throwing up.

“Y/N.” 

“AGH!” You screamed suddenly, jumping when you felt a hand on you. You turned back and saw Sam there, agent Angus behind him. They were dressed in plain clothes and carried all manner of strange things, most notably two shotguns. You stared at them dumbfounded.

“What are you doing here?” Sam whispered, seeming slightly angry.

“Me? What the hell are you doing here?” You pointed at him. “Are you guys even really federal agents?”

“Great, this is exactly what we need.” Agent Angus groaned, slapping a hand over his face.

Sam glared at him. “Shut up, Dean.”

You didn’t relent. “Tell me the truth. What’s going? Are you really here to find Tara’s killer?”

“Yes.” Sam said. His hand was still on your shoulder, and he squeezed you slightly. “I promise, we’re not doing anything shady.”

“Then what-”

Suddenly, the lights flickered on and off, and you startled. Sam and Dean looked around.

“Dean?” Sam looked back. Dean was holding a small device that was aglow with light, which was making quite a lot of noise.

“There’s some major mojo in here, Sam. Get Y/N out of here.” Dean motioned to you, and you started moving towards the door, not wanting to question anything anymore. Sam came with you to the front doors, but just as you reached them, they slammed shut.

“What the hell?!” You cried out as you tried to open them, jiggling the handle to no avail. “What’s going on?”

“Shit, Y/N, stay with me, okay?” Sam said, slightly panicked as he brought you away from the door. The lights were flickering like crazy now, and you saw the painting above the desk shaking. 

“The- the painting!” You pointed out. Dean opened his bag and pulled out, to your surprise, a shotgun. “What the-”

He fired a round at the painting, and just as he did you saw it. The woman you’d seen in the bathroom when Tara died was flying out of the painting, coming right at Dean. When the shotgun round hit her, she disappeared in a cackle.

“That’s- the woman! The woman from the bathroom!” You looked at Sam. “What’s really going on here? Who are you?”

“No time, Y/N.” Sam grabbed a large canister from his bag and began shaking salt out of it on the ground, creating a large circle. “Trust me - just stay in this circle, okay? Don’t step out of it no matter what.” 

The two of you looked at each other and you weren’t sure how to feel. He wasn’t an FBI agent, for sure. And neither was Dean. They’d lied to you and gotten you to show them where Tara died. What could be more messed up than that?

Then you remembered how Sam had let you use him as your personal tissue. He’d seen how afraid you were and told you to stay with him. And when you looked into his eyes, you saw nothing but softness.

“Okay, Sam.” You said, calmly. “But you’ve got some explaining to do.”

He laughed. “Yeah. I know.”

The woman suddenly reappeared and shrieked, loudly. She was moving incredibly fast towards Sam, and Dean shot her again with the shotgun. Suddenly, the bookshelves made a tremendous noise. As you turned, you saw books flying out in random directions, pages being ripped all around. You screamed as the books came towards you, a few of them hitting beside you but never reaching you. The salt circle. It was protecting you.

Books were barraging Sam and Dean as they continued to fight the woman. You saw the painting in the distance shaking back and forth, as if it was alive. The woman suddenly pinned Sam down, Dean too distracted by fending off books to help him. You knew what Sam wanted you to do. Stay in the circle. 

But God, as you looked at him, you couldn’t stand by and do nothing. 

You grabbed a fist full of salt from the circle, breaking it. Running up with a scream, you flung the salt at the woman with a punch, spraying it everywhere. She dissipated long enough for you to grab Sam’s hand, pulling him up. “Y/N-” He started, looking at the broken salt circle with a helpless expression. “You shouldn’t have-”

“Shut up, Sam! You’ve gotta get to the painting!” You pushed him towards it, and he didn’t question you again, this time breaking out into a run. 

You followed behind, but books began flying out all around you. Dean, finally wrestled out of his own predicament, began running to you, trying to shove books out of the way as you were beginning to get buried in them. Suddenly, the woman was upon you, her face right up against yours. 

She looked haunted, and you saw now that her eyes popped out of her head, swinging wildly as she grabbed you. Her hands were around your neck, squeezing tight. You thought of Tara, and the blood that had spattered around the bathroom stall. You thought of Sam, his back disappearing as he got further from you, towards the painting. You could just make out Dean over the woman’s shoulder, trying to pry books off of you and get you away. There was so much noise and commotion you could barely tell what was going on, but you knew one thing felt for sure - you were going to die. 

Your hands reached out, desperately trying to claw away as the woman squeezed your throat painfully. You felt bile coming up as you tried to scream. Blood streamed out of your nose. Nothing came out of your mouth. You could see Dean mouthing your name, but you were shaking too violently to try to respond.

Suddenly, it all stopped. The woman was gone. The books laid motionless beside you. Choking for air, you found your breath returning to you all at once. You reached up and realized blood had been leaking out of your nose and the corners of your eyes, and your vision was cloudy.

Standing at the far end of the library was Sam, holding a lighter up and burning the painting of the young woman. But as you saw it now, you realized she had somehow morphed into a much older woman. The same woman who had nearly killed you.

“Y/N, we have to go, now!” Dean grabbed you roughly, pulling you up as you hobbled toward the door. The fire from the painting was quickly spreading, burning the wallpaper and scorching across the floor. 

“Sam,” You managed to choke out, tugging at Dean’s shirt as he dragged you. “What about Sam?”

“I’m right here,” He suddenly materialized beside you, also grabbed an arm so you could walk a little more properly. The three of you ran outside, smoke billowing out of the building behind you and blood completely dripping out of every orifice of your face. 

You laughed, suddenly and violently. Your head was spinning. “Sam..?” You managed to say, before you hit the pavement with a crack, and everything went black.

X

Beeeep. Beeeep.

The first thing you felt when you woke up was the stiff sheets beneath you. As your senses came back to you, you felt yourself clench and unclench your fingers. It was cold and uncomfortable.

“Hrr..” You managed to spit out a noise as you opened your eyes. The hospital lights blinded you momentarily, and when you sat up, you finally regained your bearings. You were in a hospital bed, an IV hooked up to you. Next to you was Sam, wearily sleeping in an uncomfortable looking chair.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You couldn’t believe he was still here, couldn’t believe what had happened, and still… you felt grateful. Relieved that maybe it was over now.

“Y/N?” Sam blinked slowly, coming to as he heard you wake. He sat up suddenly, wiping at his mouth as if checking if he had drool. “You’re up.”

“You saved me,” you whispered, still in disbelief.

“You saved me first,” he replied, smiling softly as he held a hand out to you. An offering. You took his hand gently and squeezed it, smiling back at him.

“I have so many questions,” you said, looking around to see if Dean was nearby. “Who are you? What was… what happened? And the library.. Is it..?” You couldn’t seem to force yourself to stop talking as questions began spilling out of you.

“The library burnt down. Looks like the guy who killed Tara also committed arson.” Sam solemnly said, his mouth in a hard line. “You were saved just in the nick of time,” He shook his head, beautiful hair shaggily falling around his cheeks. “Or at least that’s the official story.”

“Mm.” You muttered, nodding. “And what’s the unofficial story?”

“You really wanna know?” Sam looked much older now, the weariness in his eyes aging him. “Because you don’t have to know if you don’t want to. I promise you it will make life easier for you if you don’t.”

You thought of everything you’d been through the past few days. You thought of that woman horrifically choking you to death, the books and the salt circle, and the burning painting. And you knew you wouldn’t be able to forget it as long as you lived.

“I want to know.”

“Okay, Y/N.” Sam looked sadly at you, your hands still intertwined. “Your library bought a cursed painting. The woman who painted it was murdered, and she was haunting the painting. When they hung up the painting, she manifested herself as a ghost and killed Tara.” 

“Hm.” You said, after a long pause. “So… ghosts are real?”

“Yeah.” Sam shrugged. “So is every other supernatural monster you can think of. It’s my brother and I’s job to kill them.”

“Soundless like thankless work, Sam.” You said quietly, leaning towards him. 

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.” He whispered back, leaning towards you. He seemed so hesitant. You felt like he wanted you to take the lead.

“I’m freaking out inside, don’t worry.” You replied, giggling slightly. “Or maybe the shock just hasn’t set in yet.”

“You’re a lot braver than you look.” Sam’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. 

“So if all that’s real…” You said, leaning in incrementally closer.

“Yeah?” His eyes were sparkling. You could see your whole future in them.

“Is this real too?” You leaned forward and kissed him. He stayed stiff for a moment, but suddenly kissed you back, embracing you slightly as you didn’t let go. You pulled back once, just enough to press your forehead against his and to see his serene smile, and then went back in for more. He kissed you with every ounce of his body, pulling at your hips slightly to bring you even closer. 

It didn’t matter what existed outside of this. To you, in this moment, it was perfect.

[clairenovakz]

hello 👋 i would love to write anything for spn:)) pls send me requests!

[clairenovakz]

asylum (sam winchester x reader)

pairing: season one sam x reader warnings: canon compliant, general violence, hint of smut (more like just making out) summary: canon-insert for episode 1x10, asylum. on a routine hunt, you run into a pair of hunters - one of which has a sad smile and the look of a kicked puppy. word count: 5k a/n: hello! i've been rewatching supernatural recently and had this idea cooking in my brain... i've never written fanfic like this before so any feedback is appreciated! i feel like i've written this with a continuation in mind but... we'll see! i would love to write stuff that isn't just fully based in canon so feel free to send me requests

Walking through the Roosevelt Asylum was definitely not in your list of top ten things you wanted to do today, and yet - here you are. The air is musty with the scent of old rust and clinging spiderwebs, and you are almost certain this place has to be haunted by something. 

You’d seen the reports of the death of Walter Kelly and had immediately been suspicious. After doing some preliminary research about the area and its lore, you’d gone straight to the asylum to check it out. This wasn’t your first rodeo; as a seasoned hunter with more than just a few kills under your belt, you weren’t feeling too spooked about this hunt in particular. A ghost, an asylum, a freaky accident. It’s basically textbook. 

Creeping through the dark, you had one hand on an EMF meter and another on a flashlight. The room you were in wasn’t lighting anything up on the EMF, and you shook it just to be sure, as if somehow that would call the ghosts to you. Sighing, you slipped out of the room. There was already a fine layer of dust just coating your body from being in this place, and it was gross. 

Just as you were beginning to think that this was maybe a fruitless endeavor, you heard some footsteps. “Shit,” you muttered, pressing yourself up against the nearest wall to listen. With two clicks, you shut your flashlight and your EMF off. If it was cops, this was really not going to look great on your permanent record… 

“I told you, it’s not ESP!” A man’s voice was coming from around the corner, and your ears perked up. “I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t ask, don’t tell.” Another voice. You felt your skin prickle and you shifted your foot, attempting to move back. They were coming towards you. 

“You get any reading on that thing or what?” The first voice spoke again. As you listened, you could hear the telltale signs of an EMF meter. 

You furrowed your brow. Either they were amateur ghost hunters, or something more similar to yourself. Definitely not cops. Or maybe just really weird cops. You were beginning to doubt yourself.

Figuring this was as good a time as any to reveal yourself, you stepped out from the dark and down the hall to the voices. Flashes of light from the window slats hit your face as you made yourself known. In front of you were two young men, one tall and slightly lanky with a brown flop of hair, and the other shorter with an almost too-chiseled jawline. They immediately tensed seeing you.

“Sorry to interrupt.” You smiled at them slightly sheepishly. 

“Who are you?” The short one asked, hand reaching behind him as he glared at you. 

“Better question - who are you guys?” You asked back, holding your hands up to show you were defenseless. Well, as far as they knew.

“You really shouldn’t be in here…” The short one raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, says the two guys who are also in here.” You countered. Deciding talking to this guy wasn’t working, you aimed your eyes at the taller one. He was definitely younger - you could see that his warm hazel eyes didn’t seem so suspicious of you.

“I’m Sam, this is Dean.” He said cautiously, tapping the shorter one on the back as if to tell him to relax. “We’re looking around, just doing some research for a project.”

“Psh.” You scoffed. “Like I believe that for a second.”

“Lady, what’s your problem?” The short one - Dean, you suppose - cocked his head at you.

“I’m Y/N.” You said, lowering your hands finally. “I’m here because I’m hunting whatever decided to make Walter Kelly kill himself.”

Sam and Dean stopped in their tracks, and then looked at each other, communicating silently. Finally, Dean threw his head back in annoyance and looked at you again. “You’re for real?”

“No, I’m just being crazy,” You retorted, rolling your eyes. “Yes. Obviously. I wouldn’t wander an asylum for fun in my free time.”

Sam choked back a laugh at that, and Dean hit his elbow. “Alright, Y/N.” Dean said your name like you’d taken some candy from him. “We’re here for the same thing, happy? Now I’d appreciate it if you moved out of the way so we could do our job.”

“Dean.” Sam coughed slightly. 

“What?” Dean looked around incredulously.

“I’m pretty sure I got here before you two bozos.” You said, also trying to hold back a laugh. “So I’m gonna say I’ll graciously let you work the case with me. If you’d like.”

The three of you exchanged glances. You could tell they were sizing you up. You were in plain clothes, but the bag slung crossbody over your bag was full of hunting gear. You looked them over as well. They seemed capable enough. It had been quite some time since you’d worked a case with someone else, and somehow you felt a little relieved they’d come along. Hunting alone was probably the loneliest thing anyone could do.

“Fine.” Dean said, moving to push past you. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Oh, whatever.” You moved to follow him down the hallway towards another room. Sam came up behind you.

“Sorry. Brothers, right?” He gave you a small smile and you looked at his dimples. For some reason, you felt a small kick in your chest, and realized you were staring.

“Hm.” You humored him with a smile of your own, tucking some of your hair back. “I wouldn’t know.”

x

After investigating the asylum, the three of you had discovered that a man named Sanford Ellicott had been the Chief of Staff at the asylum. You had sensed that the boys had paused whatever conversation they were having now that you were around, but you pretended that you didn’t notice. You had never really been a part of a large community of hunters, if one existed out there, so being with two working the same case was a little odd. You swapped numbers with them quickly and then had set to work.

As crass as Dean had been in your first conversation, he seemed to warm a little to you after walking around the asylum together. Sam, however, kept trying to make easy conversation with you, and it was making you feel unnecessarily mushy inside. Okay, he was really cute. And you didn’t have to pretend to have a day job around him. But being the professional you were, you weren’t going to make a move until the job had settled down. Besides, you weren’t exactly sure what vibe you were picking up from him anyway.

You had been quick to track down a living relative of Ellicott’s - a man named James Ellicott who was working as a psychiatrist. After telling Sam and Dean, they quickly hatched a plan to send Sam in to have a session with him in order to gain information. This left you with Dean to loiter around the outside of the medical center and pretend like you weren’t suspicious.

“So…” You started, hoping to get on Dean’s good side while Sam was away.

“What?” Dean didn’t turn to look at you, spacing out as he looked in the far distance.

“How long have you been hunting?” You asked, just by way of making small talk.

“Mm,” Dean shrugged. “Probably my whole life. Runs in the family.” He seemed almost reluctant to keep his mouth shut, but you couldn’t get a full read on him.

You nodded. “Yeah. Me too.” You thought back to your parents, and the way you had lived on the road when they were still alive. Sometimes it was easier just to forget. “You and Sam got any family around?”

Dean gave you a slightly pained look. “We’re, uh, actually kind of looking for our dad right now.” His eyes shifted away from you. “It’s kind of why we even came here in the first place.”

“Hm.” You sensed he probably didn’t want to talk about it. Not wanting to make things more awkward, you both went back to spacing out until Sam got back.

As Sam exited the doors of the medical center, Dean hurried to catch up to him, you following closely behind. “Dude! You were in there forever, what the hell were you talking about?”

Sam shrugged, continuing to walk. “Just the hospital, you know.”

“And…?”

Sam began to relay the information to the two of you. What really caught your interest was that the patients had rioted and killed Ellicott, but his body was apparently never recovered.

“Christ,” you said, shaking your head a little. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied.  “The hospital closed down after all that.” 

“So, to sum it up,” Dean grumbled. “We've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.” 

The three of you made a plan to return to the asylum that night. There was a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Dealing with death wasn’t easy, despite your job. Being in a place of such tragedy only made things worse. When you thought back to the things you’d seen, you sometimes wished you weren’t in this life. But it was like Dean had said - these things ran in the family business. You shuddered to think about the gory details.

x

You and the boys decked yourself out in hunting gear. EMF, flashlights, shotguns filled with salt rounds, and a video camera that Sam had in hand. A chill passed over you as the three of you walked through the front doors once again, stepping into the dust and old wood. 

As you covered the floor, the three of you began to separate. It wasn’t until you heard yelling that you quickly ran back to Sam. An old woman covered in blood was coming towards him, and you quickly lifted your shotgun. “Get down!”

Sam threw himself to the floor as you shot. The woman quickly disintegrated, and Dean ran over to his brother to help him up. Panting slightly, the three of you converged.

“That was weird.” Sam said, looking around in slight shock.

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me.” Dean said, quickly beginning to move away. 

“Weird how?” You asked, following behind closely.

“Just - weird that she didn’t attack me.” Sam caught up to the two of you. You and Dean exchanged a glance.

“Uh, she was coming right at you, wasn’t she?” You asked, confused.

“She didn't hurt me.” Sam insisted. “She didn't even try! So if she didn't wanna hurt me then what did she want?”

Before either of you could reply, a noise startled you all. Dean raised his shotgun as you crept forward, moving slowly and scanning the room. Sam reached out and suddenly revealed a living, human girl crouching in the corner. She nearly screamed at the sight of you all.

“It’s okay, we’re not gonna hurt you.” You said calmly. You reached out for her and she grabbed your hand, steadying herself. “What’s your name?”

The girl explained her name was Kat, and that she was here with her boyfriend Gavin. You groaned internally, knowing how stupid it was for these teens to be around the asylum. Even worse, she wanted to stick around to find her boyfriend even when offered to be escorted outside. You put your arm around her and tried to give her some comfort.

“It’s no joke around here,” Dean said crossly. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know! That’s why I’ve gotta find Gavin…” Kat seemed insistent, despite her obvious fear. You squeezed her shoulder.

“Don’t worry. We’re gonna find him.” You gave her your best reassuring smile, and then looked at the boys. Sam was giving you a soft look and then smiled at you slightly, although you couldn’t exactly discern why.

“Alright, I guess we’re gonna split up.” Dean motioned for Kat to come with him. “Let’s go.”

You let Kat go as she followed Dean. Sticking by Sam, you decided to go deeper into the asylum. 

“Gavin? Gavin?” Sam called out, you trailing behind him. He stopped suddenly and you bumped into his back quite hard. “Shit, sorry, Y/N.” He whirled around to take a look at your face.

“Warn me next time you’re gonna do that.” You said through a smile. 

“Sorry.” He apologized again, sheepishly smiling at you. 

“You already said that, dummy.” You gently punched his shoulder and then started walking, trying to guide him to keep looking. “Don’t worry about it. Did you see something or…?”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Sam looked around again, trying to catch what had stopped him. “Oh wait- look!”

He hurried into the next room and you followed, seeing a boy on the floor, unconscious. Clearly, Gavin.

Sam went to wake him as you stood behind. You could see how soft his hair looked from behind and it was really beginning to distract you. You shook your head to keep yourself focused, and then finally tuned in to what Gavin was saying.

“She tried to kiss you?” You almost wanted to laugh, even though you knew how disgusting that probably was. Gavin looked like he wanted to cry or vomit. Or both.

“Yeah, her face was all messed up. It was seriously freaky.” 

“But did she… she didn’t hurt you, physically?” Sam asked, trying to get at something. You finally remembered your earlier conversation that had gotten cut off. Did Sam think the ghosts here were completely mundane, and not evil spirits?

“Dude! She kissed me! I’m scarred for life!”

Sam turned back to look at you with a look of ‘can-you-believe-this-guy?’ and you actually had to turn around to keep from laughing. You hadn’t imagined that Sam had a secret bitchy side, but it was endearing. 

After collecting Gavin, you and Sam headed back to Dean. As you drew near, you could hear sounds of shouting and something against the wall. You quickened your pace alongside Sam.

“Dean! What’s going on?” Sam shouted, running up to his brother, who was attempting to jam the door open.

“She’s inside with one of them!” 

Kat was screaming inside and you immediately began trying to slam your body against the door with Dean, trying to get it open. It was futile thought, and the more Kat screamed “help me!” the more you felt sick with guilt. You shouldn’t have left her side - she was the most vulnerable one in the situation. And you knew exactly how that felt.

“Kat, it’s not going to hurt you.” Sam suddenly said. “Listen, you’ve got to face it. Try to calm down.”

You and Dean both turned to Sam in slight astonishment. What Sam meant clicked for you slightly faster than it did for Dean, as you shouted, “Oh shit, I get it!” at the same time that he said “She’s gotta what?!”

“These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate.” Sam was slightly panicking, although you could tell he was trying to stay calm. “You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it.”

“No! You face it!” Kat’s voice on the other side of the door was desperate.

“Kat, just look at it! You can do this!” You said, deciding to trust Sam. You gave him a slight nod and he nodded back.

A tense silence fell over your group as you struggled to hear what Kat was doing. “Man, I hope you’re right about this.” Dean muttered, looking worried.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the door clicked open and Kat stepped out. “Kat…” Gavin stepped forward to embrace her as Sam examined the room she had just been in. You put your hand on Kat’s shoulder and tension seemed to leave her body a bit. Sam stepped back out and only shook his head.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” You said sincerely, and Kat only trembled in response.

“One-thirty-seven.” She said, finally.

“What’s that?” You asked.

“It whispered in my ear. One-thirty-seven.”

“Room number.” Sam and Dean said in unison. They stepped back to have a private conversation, and you, not wanting to leave Kat and Gavin lest another spirit appear, tried to give the couple some small comfort.

“Alright, you guys ready to get out of here?” Dean asked, a hint of humor in his voice.

You had opted to escort the couple out while Sam and Dean went to investigate room 137. As they disappeared, Kat and Gavin followed behind you as you tried to weave your way back to the entrance.

“How did you end up doing this job?” Kat asked suddenly, and you blew out a heavy breath.

“Shitty family?” You tried to laugh, but it wasn’t really funny. 

“And Sam and Dean, are they like… your bosses?”

“God, no.” This time you actually laughed. “I only met them like earlier today.”

Kat and Gavin seemed somewhat impressed by this. “You guys work well together.”

You didn’t respond, but you had been thinking the same thing. You’d never really given much thought to trying to hunt with others again, given that the last time you had… it hadn’t ended how you’d liked. You just shrugged and the conversation petered off, trying to focus on leaving. But every door you tried was locked.

“We have a problem.” You finally said, admitting defeat.

“Can’t you break a door down? Or a window?” Gavin asked. 

“The windows are barred. And no, I don’t think that’ll work anyway.” You half-mumbled, trying to parse out the situation. The spirits were keeping you here for some reason. But if it was as Sam said, and the spirits were friendly, then it wasn’t them. It had to be something else.

“Oh god, what the hell do we do?” Gavin was beginning to sweat.

“It’s going to be okay, calm down.” You tried to use your best reassuring voice, but it was hard when you didn’t know what to do either. Suddenly, you felt your phone buzzing. As you pulled it out, you saw that it was Sam.

“Yeah?” You answered promptly.

“We’re in the basement, I can see it. It’s coming towards us.” His voice sounded odd somehow, but you couldn’t quite place it behind your sudden panic. “Hurry, Y/N!”

“On my way, stay there!” You said, hanging up. Gavin and Kat looked at you, and you reluctantly took out your shotgun. “Any chance you guys know how to use this?”

Gavin scoffed at the same time that Kat nodded. You smiled at her. 

“Okay, it’s only loaded with rock salt. Shoot anything if it tries to get you.” You handed it to her. “And stay here!”

You felt bad leaving them again, but Kat seemed to have gained some new confidence after her experience with the spirit. You raced downstairs to the basement, hoping to catch Sam and Dean before they got into trouble. You clicked your flashlight on, beams hitting shakily in front of you as you ran. “Sam? Dean?”

Down in the basement, you hurriedly began looking for the brothers, but found no sign of them. “Hello? Sam? Dean?” Your flashlight started to flicker suddenly, and you tapped it to try to get it to work again. “Dammit, what the hell?” You peeked past a few curtains and decided to backtrack. 

Turning around suddenly, you saw Sam standing right in front of you. “Holy shit!” You nearly screamed. “Sam, you scared me. Where were you?”

“I’m fine.” He said solemnly, slightly stilted. His hands were slightly behind his back, which you found odd but didn’t question.

“I thought you said you were in trouble.” You said, looking around. “And where’s Dean, weren’t you with him?”

“He’ll be here very soon.” Sam said. He seemed so stiff all of a sudden, and as you looked at him you couldn’t seem to see life in his eyes anymore.

“What’s going on? Are you okay, for real?” You asked nervously, taking a step back. A creeping feeling ran over your neck.

“You’re asking way too many questions.” Suddenly, Sam raised an arm and hit you so hard with a metal pipe that you saw stars. The last thing you saw before you passed out was Sam’s cold stare.

x

You woke up with a start. Blood was absolutely dripping down your face, covering you in what appeared to be a gorey mess, but you could tell it was just from your nose. You were laying flat on the ground, dizzy and somewhat disoriented. But you could immediately hear a kerfuffle not too far from you.

Dragging yourself out, you finally saw the scene in front of you with blurry eyes. Sam was aiming a gun at Dean, yelling about something you couldn’t quite understand with your just-waking-up brain. You pushed yourself forward, basically crawling as you tried to get closer. Dean was trapped under Sam, and you couldn’t quite see his face from the angle you were at.

As your vision began to clear, you heaved yourself up. Oh fuck, you thought to yourself through a wave of nausea. Sam is going to fucking kill his brother. 

It occurred to you finally that Sam was possessed by that damn Ellicott. The gun he was pointing at Dean with was not the same shotgun filled with salt. You looked around for something to stop it from happening, and saw the discarded pipe he had hit you with earlier. You slowly moved towards it, and picked it up with a quiet strength. As you stood up to your full height, Dean finally saw you coming towards him and his brother with a pipe in hand.

“You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother?” Dean spat. “Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!”

Before Sam could do anything, you were already behind him. “Payback’s a bitch!” You said as you suddenly swung the pipe at Sam, knocking him out cold in one swing. You hadn’t hit him quite as hard as he had hit you, but the way he collided on the ground made you think you might have matching broken noses. 

“Y/N, watch out!” Dean shouted, and suddenly a ghostly old man was upon you. His fingers were digging into your face and you were pushed down again, screaming.

“I’m going to make you all better.” Ellicott said, and you tried to wrestle away from him.

“Get off of me!” You yelled, straining to shield yourself from his attack. You could feel yourself being overcome, and almost thought you were done for when suddenly Ellicott started screaming too. You regained enough consciousness to see him suddenly ablaze, body turning black and ashen as he disappeared in smoke right in front of you. Dazed, you turned to see Dean with a lighter in front of a cupboard, the remains of a smoking body before him.

“Wow,” You said, laughing a little. “Go team.”

x

The three of you properly reconvened at a motel after saying goodbye to Kat and Gavin. You had set your nose and Sam was holding an ice pack to his head, still apologizing to you profusely after what he had done. You couldn’t believe this boy was so apologetic that he’d be sorry for something he had no control over whatsoever.

“Sam, seriously, for the last time - it’s okay.” You gently touched the part of his head you had hit. “I already got you back good.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I suppose so.” He looked at you fondly and smiled, which you returned. 

“Alright,” Dean flopped onto the motel bed. “Y/N, I hate to do this to you, but you gotta get out. It’s time for my beauty sleep.”

You grinned. “Okay, princess Dean. Whatever. Thanks for being on this hunt with me, guys.”

Dean gave you a thumbs up from the bed, and you had a feeling he wasn’t going to move again. Sam put a hand on the small of your back. “Can I walk you to your room?”

“Sure,” you said, rather shyly. After the events of the day and nearly killing each other, you’d think you would feel less like a teenage girl with a stupid crush. The two of you stepped outside and he walked with you to your room in the motel, which was only a few doors down. You unlocked it swiftly and stepped inside.

“So…” Sam started, finally taking the ice pack off and looking at you with what you could only describe as puppy-dog eyes.

“So… wanna come in?” You asked, stepping back to make room for him. He smiled widely at that.

The two of you sat on the motel bed together. The printed florals were really not matching the mood, but you could stand it if it meant he was here with you. Your heart was pounding as you inched your fingers towards his, placing your pinky on top of his. Before you could say anything, Sam suddenly turned and leaned in close. “Can I…”

“Yes, duh.” You closed the distance and suddenly the two of you were kissing desperately. Despite your nose, and despite his head injury, you didn’t seem to care anymore. 

He pulled you close to him, fingers gripping your waist and finding the hem of your shirt. Having his hand against your skin made you flush, and you moaned slightly as he dipped you continuously closer to him. You brought a hand up to his hair, dragging your fingers through his locks as he laid you back against the bed. He groaned in return when you tugged slightly, kissing him with every fiber of your body. 

You wanted to feel his skin. You moved your hands to pull his shirt up and he let you roam his chest, feeling how his lanky body was suddenly quite firm underneath. You were slightly surprised - he looked so much like a skinny nothing, yet he was hiding all this muscle under here. You kissed each other fervently, sweating slightly as he pulled your legs up.

“Do you have a condom?” He muttered in your ear, kissing down your neck.

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” You whispered back coyly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth as you untangled yourself from him. You moved to your bag to grab your condoms, and then turned back to look at him.

There, in the dim light of the motel room, you could see how his eyes were slightly watery. His posture was tense, and he seemed somewhat on guard. And you knew then that something was wrong.

“Sam… do you want this?” You asked, sliding back onto the bed but a slight ways away from him.

“Of course I do.” He said, but only after hesitating slightly.

“Sam…” You reached out for him, linking your pinkies again. “It’s okay if you don’t. I’m fine either way.”

Sam studied you for a long moment. He seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say. Then, he leaned towards you and pulled you in for a long hug. Surprised, you slowly put your arms around him. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I hate to disappoint you.”

“No, no. Don’t say that.” You smiled at him gently. “You could never.”

He just nodded slightly. You put the condoms on the nightstand and leaned in close to him. “Do you want to talk?”

He hesitated again. Finally, after a tense moment, he spoke. “My… girlfriend died recently. And I’m… I think I still need time.”

You didn’t wait to pull him close to you again. This time, you squeezed him hard. “I’m sorry. That’s awful.”

“It’s… yeah, it is.” His voice was so small now you could hardly hear it.

“What do you need?” You asked.

“Some sleep, probably?” He forced a laugh out.

“Wanna stay here or go back to Dean?” You asked, pulling back to look at his beautiful hazel eyes. He looked so soft here, so much more boyish than he’d seemed during the day. 

“Mm.” He slowly laid down on the bed. “If you’d have me… It might be nice to stay here for a bit.”

You laid down with him. “Sure, Sam.” Gently, you reached towards him to tuck his hair back. He closed his eyes. “Whatever you need.”

You quickly got ready for bed and the two of you fell asleep shortly after that. When morning came, you weren’t surprised to find him gone. Something ached in your chest as you reached over and saw he left without a trace.

It was early and you could just barely see the sun coming up through the window. You went through your morning routine with a slightly subdued pace. Back to your regular hunting life, now. It was a little bittersweet, but you knew it had to happen.

The loud sound of a car caught your attention as you finished getting dressed. Stepping into your boots, you went outside to see Sam and Dean loading up into their beautiful looking car. You whistled.

“Nice ride, hot stuff.” You joked, approaching them with ease. They looked up at you, Dean with a smile and Sam with a soft, appreciative look. “Heading out already? Not even breakfast?”

“We, uh, got a call from our dad.” Dean said, shaking his head. “Gotta catch a lead.”

You nodded firmly. “Gotta do what you gotta do.” 

Dean went back inside to triple-check they had their things. Sam approached you slowly, hands in his pockets like he was trying to look smaller than he was. “About last night…”

“We don’t have to talk about it, Sam.” You said quietly. “You were perfect. Don’t doubt that.” Slowly, you reached up to cup his face. “And you let me know if you ever need anything.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Y/N. I will.”

When Dean stepped back out, the Winchesters were officially leaving. You gave them both a side-hug before they got into their car, which made things feel more final than they should have. You gave them a wave. “Seeya around, Y/N!” Dean called, as he started to pull out of the parking spot. Sam waved back at you.

“Bye, boys.” You watched them leave. That empty feeling was in your chest again.

You had a feeling you’d be seeing them soon enough.