Supernatural x Reader Oneshots

Soulless!Sam - "Not Yours"

One year. Many people don't have the patience to wait that long. Most would even quit after a few days-- it's such a large amount of time.

But not for (Y/n). To her, one year could be considered small. The amount of time she spent could be pushed aside for all she cared. It wasn't a problem-- it wasn't THE problem.

News of Sam Winchester taking a dive into Hell with Lucifer hit (Y/n) like a brick. It was mentioned to her by Bobby. He showed up at her door with a velvet box in his hand.

"I told him we should tell you about the plan multiple times (Y/n). Dean, too. But he insisted that you were not to be included. And, uh, Dean found this in Sam's bag... I think you should have it."

The ring was beautiful. Silver with an infinity symbol crossing over the front, simple, just like (Y/n) liked. She couldn't have imagined anything more.

It was what drove her to find Sam. Even if it meant a year, (Y/n) needed to find him. With or without someone by her side... she did it.

When (Y/n) did find Sam, she knew something was off the moment she heard his flat voice. That had been the first clue.

If any words could describe Sam's voice, it would be deep and strong. Pleasant. With the Sam in front of her, there was no emotion or pleasantness in his tone.

The second clue was his face. The expression he wore was blank as if he didn't care- in other words: emotionless.

The third clue was Dean. How angry he sounded through the door, how tense he was when (Y/n) walked into the motel room, the glare he shot to his brother, then the "I'm sorry," he whispered to her.

Sam's reaction was the last: he didn't have one. After not seeing the woman he had wanted to propose for to for a year- he didn't bat an eye at her. If anything, he looked bored and annoyed.

(Y/n) pressed her lips into a thin line, silently prayed for forgiveness, crossed her arms, and outright said it: "You're not Sam."

'Sam' arched an eyebrow, fixing his dull eyes on hers. "What?"

"You heard me." (Y/n) snapped, narrowing her eyes. "You're not Sam. Not my Sam."

The tension slowly built as the two stared. It reached its highest point when 'Sam' stood up from the bed and strolled over to (Y/n) his face was inches from hers when it all came tumbling down: "Your Sam is gone, better get used to what you got."

Dean must've known what was coming. He stepped forward, tried to grab (Y/n)'s arm, but was pushed back against the wall-- forced to watch his brother get kneed in the crotch, then socked in the jaw.

(Y/n) brushed a lock of hair back with a huff. "I ain't getting used to shit, sweetheart. You're not mine therefore: I'm not yours." She waltzed to the door, sending an apologetic look to Dean. "I'll help you find whatever's going on with him, just not by your side. Call me if you need anything."

Having said what needed to be said, (Y/n) left-- she wasn't ready to spend another minute in the same room as him.