sam and her fanfics

eruthiawenluin  asked:

What if Sam and Magda have the same Zanna

  • [ Whyyyy? I blame this on you. Here, have some feels. ]

Being an imaginary friend is serious business; Sully should know. 

There’s always something left over after it ends, always a faint awareness of his kids. His kids. The other Zanna sometimes shake their heads. “Don’t prod,” they say, “It fades.” It’s not good to hold on so tightly, they tell him. Job like this, it takes a lot out of you—seeing all that pain and trying to bring brightness, trying to paint bright colors over all the ugliness. Zanna can’t get drunk. Forget, they say. Let go. Especially ones like Sam, the messy ones. 

Move on. You give all of yourself to every kid, but you’ve gotta have the sense to take it back when it’s over or they’ll break you.  But maybe these kids deserve to have someone break for them.

Sully felt when Sam died the first time, and the second time. He felt when Sam jumped into Hell and left the plane the Zanna operated on. A flutter—a blink, and Sam was gone, like a TV turned off.

They tell Sully he’s wrong to hold on like this, that Winchesters break everything they touch. Sully knows better, of course. Sam has always been a hero; that will never change.

Sully was with Magda for only a few days, a special case no one else dared to touch. Too old, a lot of them said of the regressed, suffering mind that had all but cried out to them. Too unstable, too dangerous, that one, with the powers to detroy Zanna if she wished. Lonely, despairing, lost. Can’t help every kid. Save your resources for the ones you can actually save.

She reminded him of Sam, so Sully went.

She found solace for just a few days before her mother had caught her talking to him. “Demon,” the woman had whispered when she saw her daughter speaking to empty air. “Consorting with demons.”

Magda had bled out her penance for finding peace with him. Sully knew when he wasn’t wanted, when his presence caused more harm than good. He left.

Magda was crossed off the list of potentials as a mutually destructive relationship. Didn’t mean Sully couldn’t still sense her sometimes, that bone-deep despair and self-hatred. (Like Sam, so much like Sam.)

He felt when she met Sam, felt something like light growing in him, two souls mending each other. He had never hated the bond, but he never loved it more than when he felt two of his kids bring each other such frail, tentative joy.

He feels them part, better for having met, feels the pain he never quite healed in Sam scabbing over, senses a hope within Magda he barely thought possible.

Sully cherishes that while it lasts, and he feels good.

He senses Magda fading, of course.

He’s by her side in an instant, just by thinking it. Benefits of the bond, if you hold onto it.

“It’s all right,” he says, stroking her hair as she fades. He doesn’t let her hear the tears that threaten his voice. “You told me you believed in heaven, right?” 

He watches a Reaper appear, stares her down as she settles in front of Magda, gaze steady. She’s calm and self-possessed, with a leather jacket and tall boots and warm, dark skin. 

He’s only a Zanna, but he’ll make sure this Reaper takes Magda where she belongs, he swears it. The reaper stares at him, raises an eyebrow, and nods, as if amused by his helpless defiance. 

Sully turns back to Magda. “Well, that’s where you’re going. You’re going right to heaven, Magda. You’ve always been so good. Here,” he whispers. He feels Magda’s soul let go of her redundant body, heart no longer beating. “Here. This lady’s gonna bring you home. You’ll be so happy there.”

Magda looks at him, and she smiles.

“Come on,” the Reaper says, and when Magda takes her hand, Sully watches her soul spiral upward in a blaze of light. The Reaper nods, once, and disappears, leaving Sully on the ground with the vacant, bloodied body of his girl.

Let go, they’ve always told him. It’ll drive you mad to hold on to them. Zanna live too long to tie themselves to every assignment. 

And maybe they’re right. His record is the spottiest of them all. Maybe he’s sewn so much of himself into his kids that they take it with them whenever they go.

He remembers her smile as she faded, though, remembers meeting Sam last year, remembers the warmth Sam’s meeting with Magda brought to both of them, feeling the both of them grow because of it.

No, he’ll never regret any of it. He’ll see every last one of them off if he has to, break himself open for every beautiful soul. 

These are his kids. They deserve that much.

more fic | AO3

Let’s play pretend.

Imagine surprising Sam with a new haircut along with a change of wardrobe for a case.

A/N: If you’ve red my crappy writing then you know the drill. Its late and I was bored and Sammy…

Let’s not mention the fact that this is 1,278 words long

Just w/e :D


You weren’t the type of girl to dress up. At least not that much anyway, in fact, you preferred jeans most of the time and on occasions if you were feeling cute, your printed skater skirts along with whatever shirt you found comfty. Ever since you started dating Sam, you’ve found yourself with an unhealthy obsession for wearing his flannels even when they ended up looking pretty funny on your much shorter body, but it was not like you could help it. They smelled of him and in truth, they made you feel a little closer to him when he was away with Dean in whatever case.

You on the other hand, stayed behind, preferring to dig any information you could since that was your thing. Books and research. Honestly, how did someone like Sam Winchester noticed you? Not that you really minded though, especially when you remembered how it all began, surely that night was engraved in your brain.

You sighed as you now stared at yourself in the mirror, y/e/c  glancing at your outfit for anything that could be amiss or out of place. Fixing your newly cut bangs you sighed once more, feeling anxious as your eyes shifted to your now short hair that rested on your shoulder and neck in a symmetric bob, making you look more mature and serious which made you slightly more apprehensive about the decision of cutting it off in the first place.

‘What if Sam doesn’t like it?’ you panicked at the thought and released another breath trying to calm yourself down. You knew he loved your hair just as much as you loved his long locks that felt like silk every time you wrapped your tiny hands on them.

A small smile crept onto your now red stained lips as heat invaded your cheeks, painting them pink in a blush, but you quickly shook away the thought of your fingers wrapped in the youngest Winchester’s hair and moved to slip you black shiny heels on as you glanced at the ticking clock on the wall, before making your way back to the full length mirror to inspect yourself once more.

Standing four inches taller made your figure-hugging skirt look just perfect as the peak of the crossed skirt sat perfectly on your knees while your legs looked longer. Adjusting your button down white shirt that disappeared under the skirt, tucked away to give you a more professional look, you turned to your side, your eyes widening slightly at the curve of your ass and its magnificence in your current outfit. Another blush stained your cheeks as you thought of how sexy you were looking and the boost of confidence it was giving you, making another smile appear on your face.

Deciding it was time to stop being narcissist, you turned around, grabbing your preferred perfume that smelled of pear, musk and white ginger and sprayed some on your skin before tossing it back to the bed as you grabbed you black blazer and headed outside, ready to fetch your man as you could hear his voice while he talked to Dean.

With each step you took towards the boys, you could slightly feel you confidence leaving your body. What if they thought it was too much? You had spent a while trying to figure out what you were going to wear, but now the confidence your outfit had given you back in your room, seemed to have stayed behind as you struggled internally whenever to go play pretend as an FBI agent with Sam or change back into your comfty clothes and stay in. Surely that would disappoint him. He had been insisting you went with him on one of the cases for a while and each time you declined, feeling your place was helping them with any information they might had needed, but after much insistence, you decided to oblige and make your baby happy.

‘Oh God…’ you thought as you were about to turn around when Dean’s voice interrupted your escape plan.

His green eyes stared widely at you as a smirk played on his face, making you feel even more self-conscious as your stomach dropped at the sound of shuffling. You could feel Sam’s hazel eyes in your form, but kept your head down, not daring to even glance in his direction to see his expression.

“Damn Sammy! Good luck with that!” Dean’s voice filled the silent room in his usual cocky tone as he stood and patted his younger brother on the back, before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving you alone with Sam.

Your heart skipped a bit, then two when you heard footsteps heading in your direction and glanced up through your long mascara coated lashes taking in Sam’s figure as he closed the space between the two of you, now standing two feet in front of your tiny figure. Damnit! That suit was making him so hot! But then again, he always looked good.

“Babe…”

He closed the space slightly more as his large hand reached slowly and grabbed the side of your neck, pulling you closer while he lifted your chin with his thumb, making your e/c eyes meet his loving hazel ones while holding one of those cute smiles that made you fall for him.

“You okay?” Sam asked, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I… is this too much?” You asked him timidly as you blushed for the tenth time in less than an hour. His smile grew as he chuckled and his head shook. “If anything, I think you’re gonna be distracting me.” A smile of your own played on your face as his eyes gleamed with mischief while as his other hand wrapped around your waist. The youngest Winchester bent slightly as his lips made their way to your cheek, sliding in slow motion down to your neck while he guided you to meet your back against a wall as his body pressed against yours while he lavished your neck with his hot, delicious lips as the hand that rested on your waist slid to your wide hips, his fingers gripping at it, sinking into the layers of fabric that would surely prevent marks on your skin for the time being.

A moan escaped your lips and you could feel Sam’s lips twitch into a smirk before he pulled apart, making you whimper at the absence of his lips on your tender skin. With a chuckle, the tall male leans in once more to place a kiss on your bang-covered forehead before his eyes meet yours as his hand reaches down for yours, lacing his much longer fingers with your own.

“We’ve got work to do. We should get going.” Once more, mischief gleams in his eyes as he pulls away while still holding your hands. As Sam reaches the door, Dean makes his way out of the kitchen, a beer in hand as he calls out to his brother, handing the keys to the Impala. Your e/c eyes widen as you hold back a giggle from leaving you red lips.

“Yeah brat…” The green eyed Winchester points at you before turning his finger to his taller brother. “Take care of my Baby… and keep it in your pants you two!” Dean says, his voice dead serious as his eyes glance between you and Sam as he opens the door and steps outside, you following behind.

“Don’t worry Deany, we promise to clean up afterwards” You say to Dean, before winking at him and closing the door right behind you and Sam.

Find Her

Fandom: Supernatural

Character/Ship: Reader, Sam, Dean

Warning: Kidnapping, Light cursing?, Smiting a demon, pregnancy, giving birth

Writer: Cas

Words: 2412

Requested by: Someone on an imagine page. Maybe thefandomimagine or imaginesofeveryfandom

Summary: Being the sister of Sam and Dean and your daughter is kidnapped by a demon

Author’s Note: This took literally 2 weeks and I’m so happy. It’s so long oh my god

Originally posted by malasorte-malavita

Originally posted by hallowedbecastiel


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Don’t Look At Her. Ch1.

Originally posted by tonyloki

Word Count: 1369

This is the first part of DLAH. I know I said it was going to be a one shot, but I lied 

Unbetaed (sorry if there are errors)

Waning/triggers: swearing, Hydra.

Bucky x reader

Tagging: @obsessedtmifangirl @yuhkii-kaze @bovaria @creideamhgradochas (please let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged

Previously working for Hydra, you were brainwashed into believing that they were dedicated to make the world a better place, a new world and future. A disposable soldier, but one of the world’s greatest assassins ever seen. Sure, you weren’t proud of your past, but everyone knew that you could kick ass.

It was Stark that found you. It all happened when they were send on a mission to one of the Hydra bases, just to make sure it was empty. You were in your cell at the time, which consisted of three reinforced concrete walls, a swing door with iron bars, and a scratchy blanket to either lay on or sleep under. You were curled up in a ball, lips blue and teeth chattering as you were pressed against the cold and dirty concrete, trying to make yourself disappear in the shadows. You took pride in being a strong and incredibly skilled assassin, but at the moment, you hadn’t been allowed food in almost a week, but even so, your strong built-up figure jumped at footsteps creeping towards your isolated cell in who-knows-where.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up, reaching behind you to try and find a plank of wood that you hid under your blanket weeks ago. Of course your handlers wouldn’t allow you to keep a gun in your cell - that would basically be a death penalty for them… if you weren’t brainwashed. A clank at the end of your long, narrow cell indicated that the door had been unlocked, and a creak indicated a potential attacker opening it. Your bare feet silent started padding towards the noise, making sure to stay within the shadows of the wall. You were dressed in the bare minimum, dressed in only a thin and ripped black tank top and a pair of equally torn black combat trousers.

A silhouette of a metal human shaped body appeared in the doorway, blocking all escape routes, trapping you in.

‘Nothing in here.’ A voice was heard coming from the bot-like shape. And with that, you lunged at the metal armour, swinging your plank of wood at the neck.

-

Tony turned around in shock, looking with surprise at the thing that just clubbed him around the neck. Before you could attack him again, he hastily spoke into earpiece again

‘I take it back, there’s someone here, but I should be able to deal with it…’ and before he had the opportunity to make a snide remark, you grabbed his helmet and twisted it off of him, simultaneously kicking his knee caps. Quickly regretting your hurried decision, you groaned at the impact of metal on your sensitive feet, stumbling back into the flickering white lights.

Tony chuckled to himself, as he finally saw you for the first time clearly. You looked up and glared daggers at him, but refraining from lashing out at him, realising that he would easily overpower you. Pick your battles, you thought to yourself.

‘So you’re the famous Y/N, I take it?’ he smirked, inching cautiously towards you, his brows raised.

‘Fuck. You. Metal guy’ you spat at him, yet standing your ground. Your stomach growled, a tune that you were used to hearing, a painful siren that your body was getting weaker by the second.

‘Hey! That’s not very nice, that hurts’ He pouted, pretending to sniff. ‘Anywho, all fun and games aside, you should come with us…we have food’

You growled at him and lunged, fist clenched and meeting neatly with his eye. You heard your heart thump in your chest, and you fell down at his feet, hunger finally beating you down.

You vaguely remember the man sighing gently, taking on a different demeanour from just seconds ago, and then bending down to pick you up. He tenderly carried your semi unconscious form back to a quinjet, just to place you on a seat before you were out completely.

The sounds of a heart rate monitor rudely awoke you from your deep sleep. A man with blond hair and a grey t-shirt which looked like it was going to pop off from his incredibly defined form sat on the hospital-like bed before you.

You raised your eyebrows at him, before looking over to the machine as it gave a particular loud beep.

‘Am I flatlining?’ you mused to no one in particular, crashing your head back down onto the feathery pillow,  a piercing headache throbbing in your skull. The blond man chuckled.

‘Nope, we were just making sure that you’re okay. That’s all.’ He handed you two pills, which you swallowed dry, and groaned again.

‘How long have I been here?’ you asked again, strangely not feeling threatened, nor the urge to run away. You were comfy, and as much as you didn’t trust the guy, you weren’t in the position to move, nor did you want to.

‘About four hours’

‘Oh’ you mumbled, slightly disappointed that you weren’t there for longer; you didn’t know why though. Your stomach moaned from deep inside you, making you grimace.

‘You must be famished… stay right here and I’ll bring you something to eat, Y/N’  The man stood up, as if to leave, and started to stride towards the door.

You rolled your eyes and chucked dryly, ‘well it doesn’t look like I’m moving anywhere fast, does it?’

The man let out a sympathetic laugh. ‘I guess not… My name is Steve Rogers by the way, nice to meet you.’ He gave you a wink and slipped out of the door.

Oh. Captain America.

By now, you weren’t in a destructive manner. You weren’t feeling aggressive towards the Avengers, just grateful that they didn’t kill you. After a substantial meal, members were walking freely into the hospital wing, introducing themselves. Within a few hours, you had become fairly well acquainted with the two women Natasha and Wanda. They talked to you for hours about their background and listening to you opening up about your equally bloody past. Clint introduced himself as he was also down at the wing getting stitches in his side after a particularly brutal run in with a murderous civilian. Sam dropped by to say hi on his way to the gym, and Steve was constantly walking in and out, checking on you every ten minutes or so. It seemed that the only person that you hadn’t met personally was James Barnes. You knew of him, of course. You’d worked with him once before on a mission back in his Winter Soldier days. Dispatch and no witnesses was what Hydra seemed to go by, and your eyes had only just opened to that in the few short hours with Nat. Steve spoke fondly of Bucky, and was convinced that you’d get along incredibly well, after countlessly telling you that they were best friends, which, of course you knew. But it didn’t seem that you’d be getting any visits from him any time soon. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, but it disappointed you a little, as you wanted someone else to be able to relate to, to talk to.

It was three days before Steve deemed you well enough to let you out of bed, but on the condition that your heart rate was monitored closely. This pissed you off a bit, as you were about to grab your boots and walk out to continue your life as a civilian. From a young age, all you ever wanted was to find a loving man and settle down with him. This was before hydra brainwashed you into destruction. There was still no sign of James Barnes.

It was three weeks before Steve deemed you healthy enough to have your own quarters at the compound. But this was on one condition - that you were chaperoned as often as possible. And as much as Nat asked to be around you 24/7, ‘life of the party’ Steve had made up his mind; James Buchanan Barnes was nominated to follow your every move for at least two weeks. ‘Just to make sure you were entirely better’

You did not like this idea at all.

James Buchanan Barnes did not like this idea at all.

Her father’s daughter

Originally posted by sunlitcas

Originally posted by clairvoyantsam

Originally posted by myheartofmusic

Part Four in the continuation of this Imagine- *Imagine Dean and Sam finding out they might have a daughter.*  Part Two. *Family Resemblance* Part Three. *Like father, like daughter*

Probably going to be about five, maybe six parts total. :)

(BOLD lines are borrowed from the episode. )

Word count: 1967

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Not Her Fault

Fandom: Supernatural

Word count: 2065

Characters: Dean x reader, Soulless!Sam

Warnings: Soulless Sam is a jerk, injury on a hunt

Summary: Soulless!Sam blames you for a hunt gone wrong, and the resulting fallout leads to you making a confession.

@spnfanficpond

It was supposed to be a simple hunt. You’d done all the research, identified the pattern, figured out that a Wendigo was terrorising the trail. From there, the three of you thought it would be like every other Wendigo you’d hunted. Find it, save whoever you could, and burn it. In fact, you and Dean had tried to persuade Sam to stay behind. Without his soul, it was tricky to predict what he’d do next, and he made you a little uneasy. He’d refused point blank, of course, so all three of you went on the hunt.

None of you had expected to end up facing two of them.

You were on the track of the first one, gasoline and lighter clutched tightly in your hands. Sam was exploring another passageway in the dark tunnel, and Dean was looking after a woman he’d found tied up.

Wendigos were sneaky bastards. This one crept up behind you, then grabbed you and threw you against the wall. You hit your head hard, dropping the lighter. A fiery pain began to spread through your side. When the Wendigo approached you and snatched you off the ground, you were too dazed to struggle.

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Something Left to Burn (A SPN Darkfic)

Warnings for heavy character death, violence, murder, revenge. Not a pretty read. Not a happy ending. Probably one of the more hideous things I’ve written in my career of making horrible things. I’m a stinker I know. I’LL WRITE A FLUFFY SHIP THING OR SOMETHING NEXT, I PROMISE.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯



She finds and kills the tall one first. It’s easy enough to capture him because he seems to know her (does know her), seems to think she’s not a threat (knew she wasn’t a threat). By the time she’s shot him in both legs and he’s leaving slippery trails of blood as he crawls toward his duffel, she’s already straddling his stomach and bringing the knife down into his chest; she doesn’t want him to suffer for too long, because this is strictly business with his brother — he’s just unfortunate payback, long arms flailing to grab at her while wide, wet eyes roll from the untouched bag on the bed to her face. Her stomach twists. There’s something deeply regretful there, but she couldn’t — she wouldn’t let it throw her off. She wouldn’t ruin this opportunity, three years in the making.

“You didn’t stop him,” she says, trying to keep her voice level. “You didn’t stop him and now I’ve lost everything. And now he’s going to lose you.”

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Deny No More

For the request for a Dean x reader based on Let Her Go by Passenger

*Dean-centric

______________________________________________________________

Dean had tried to deny it.

You were just that cute little girl that he and Sam had stumbled upon by accident.

But somehow, you’d wormed yourself into their lives and become a bigger part than anyone had ever expected.

Dean loaded the last box of stuff into the backseat of your car, quickly shutting the door to avoid an avalanche. “Geez, Y/N, how much stuff do you need?”

“Shut up,” you said with a smile and a light punch to his arm.

“You sure you wanna go through with this?” Dean asked. He regretted the words immediately, seeing the look of terror wash over your face. You were already nervous about heading off to college. It was the first time you were leaving the small Kansas town. Not to mention, you were a little older than the typical college student…

“What I mean,” Dean said, clearing his throat and searching his mind for a reasonable excuse. “Is that it’s an awfully long distance. I can’t rush over every time you need protecting.”

“Who says I need protecting?” you asked. But there was a smile on your face, a joke in your eyes.

“No one,” Dean said with a shake of his head. “I know you can stick up for yourself. But you do have that pepper spray I gave you, right?”

“And the pocket knife. And the other knife to keep in my car.”

Dean smiled. “Good girl.”

You took a breath. “Well, I’d better get going,” you said. You bounced up on your toes and wrapped your arms around Dean’s neck. His arms went around you automatically, wrapping you up tightly. He thought he felt a slight tremble go through your body—were you really that afraid of leaving? As someone who travelled constantly, the idea seemed strange to Dean. But he tried to put himself in your shoes.

Maybe this was scarier than he’d originally thought.

You eventually broke the hug. You gave him a watery smile and tried to blink away the tears that were beginning to form. “I’ll text you every day,” you promised. “And I’ll be home for Thanksgiving.”

“Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything.”

Dean watched as you got in your car. You rolled the window down and blew a kiss to him as you drove off.

Dean stood and watched your car disappear down the road, still staring after it long after it had left his field of vision, trying to ignore the hole growing in his heart.

______________________________________________________________

Sam watched as Dean downed yet another shot of whiskey. “You okay?”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I’m good, Sammy.”

“Liar.”

“Please, Sam. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But–”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sam thought about arguing, making his brother tell him what was on his mind, but decided dropping it (for now) was the smarter move. He simply gave Dean’s shoulder a squeeze as he left the room, leaving his brother to wallow in his sadness and alcohol.

Dean appreciated his brother’s sentiment and attempt, but he just couldn’t open up right now. He twirled the shot glass around, watching it catch the light. The way the glass sparkled was the same way your eyes sparkled when you laughed.

Dean sighed again and shut his eyes. He really needed to stop getting flooded with memories of you at every little turn.

But dammit if there wasn’t an emptiness in his life now that you were gone.

Dean stood and headed down the hall towards his room. Without turning on the light, he flopped onto his bed, kicking off his boots. He settled amongst the pillows and pulled his phone out to find a text from you.

I can’t study anymore tonight. I’m going insane! The words keep swimming on the page.

Dean rolled over and looked at the clock on his bedside table. The red numbers called out that it was almost midnight.

Go to sleep, Y/N, he replied. The books will still be there tomorrow.

I know. That’s the problem. Things will keep piling up :(

You can do this, Y/N. I know you can :) But seriously, you need to get some sleep.

I guess you’re right. Thanks for always believing in me and taking care of me :)

So you’re going to bed?

Yeah. Goodnight, Dean.

Goodnight, Y/N.

Dean started to type out another message, but quickly deleted it. He tossed his phone onto the bedside table, putting temptation out of reach.

Dean had tried to deny it.

But he was in love with you.

______________________________________________________________

Dean sat in the library, trying to research the demon that was most likely terrorizing a small town in Illinois. He heard footsteps coming toward him.

“Sammy!” he called. “Grab me a beer, would you?”

He heard the footsteps pause before heading to the kitchen. Dean smiled to himself.

The footsteps returned a minute later. Dean reached out his hand and felt the cool glass bottle slide into his palm.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dean’s head shot up. You stood in front of him, a small smile playing on your lips.

Dean sprang out of his chair, wrapping his arms around you. You laughed and wrapped your arms around him. Dean liked how you felt like a puzzle piece that fit perfectly against him. He inhaled your powdery scent, the scent that had been filling his dreams.

He pulled back a little to take a good look at you. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I…” you bit your lip. “I don’t know. I just couldn’t take it anymore over there. It’s not right for me.”

“What’s wrong? Is it your roommate? Your classmates? Your professors? Who do I need to beat up?”

You laughed again. “No one, Dean. I just… it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like…”

“Like?”

“Like being here, with you.”

Dean’s breath caught in his throat. Did this mean…

“Y/N, you shouldn’t give up on your dreams just because–”

“Dean, you are my dreams.”

Dean felt like time had stopped. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, trying to convey every feeling he’d kept hidden over the months. His lips also told you all the hopes and dreams he had for the two of you, for the future you would spend together.

Dean had tried to deny it.

But why deny destiny?

Her Definite

Almost.

Sam hated that word with an immeasurable intensity. There was something about the word that always bothered her; always left a sour taste on her tongue…even before all of the terrible experiences that took place on that godforsaken mountain. There’s just something about almost that makes you blue. She almost said yes. He almost stayed. They almost made it.

She didn’t believe in the almosts of life. No, she required confirmation. She believed in definites.

She had far too many experiences of almosts; enough to last her a lifetime. She thirsted after things that couldn’t be taken away. She needed permanence; something steady…something safe.

As of late, there had only been one real constant in her life; Mike. 

For obvious reasons, they’d grown closer during their experience and especially after the fact. They were talking on the phone practically every night and hanging out whenever possible. She could talk to him. He could trust her. They developed a beautiful harmony, despite their differences. 

She had come to him when nothing was making sense anymore; when nightmares of Hannah, Beth and Josh came flooding in every single time she closed her eyes. She called him in the middle of the night, crying hysterically, not even being able to form words between sobs and choked breaths. He lay with her head on his chest as she described everything, soaking his t-shirt in tears and regulating her breathing as he stroked her back. Mike was there to pick up the pieces. 

He had come to her when Jess broke up with him. He came over, not speaking at first, just laying with his head in Sam’s lap as she leaned against her headboard. He explained that she said she just couldn’t be with anyone right then. She claimed that she was too broken; but he was too and she broke him even more. She played with his hair while his red eyes closed and he could finally get some much needed rest. Sam was there to pick up the pieces. 

Because they were all broken; that much was obvious. But having someone to build you back up is what counts. 

Now, they were sitting on Sam’s bed and laughing at a joke Mike himself made. 

He let his eyes take her in; her bright smile and her laugh that was so melodic it was his favorite song and how he wouldn’t want to be doing anything else in that moment than make her happy. He had been a selfish person in the past. He was no saint; there were things he wished he could undo. He caught himself staring, stopping himself immediately. Sam wouldn’t think of him in the same way he thought of her. 

But Sam let her eyes wander and take him in when he wasn’t looking. His smile was blinding and gorgeous; just like him. When he laughed, she laughed. His happiness was contagious. She wouldn’t want to be spending time with anyone else. But Mike wouldn’t like her in that way. Just look at his ex; she was nothing like Jess. 

He looked up while she was still staring, her eyes widening when she met his, cheeks turning scarlet; flaming and turning away. She’d been caught. If someone could die from embarrassment, she’d have surely dropped dead. She was expecting him to crack a joke and diffuse the awkward tension; possibly tease her. 

Instead he reached over, grabbing her chin gently between his thumb and index finder, guiding her head back to face him. Her brows furrowed in immense confusion, for the first time being unable to read the expression in his eyes. She swallowed hard. Before he could change his mind, he pressed his lips to hers. He half-expected her to push him away; slap him, maybe. You could never be sure with Sam. Alternatively, her hand found its way to the back of his neck and pulled him closer. She pressed herself into his broad frame as he deepened the kiss, his arms sliding down her sides to rest and squeeze at her hips. Her other hand snaked its way up his torso to meet with the one currently at his neck, curling her fingers into his smooth, dark hair. She pulled away abruptly, opening her mouth but closing it before she could actually speak. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked quickly, the fear apparent that he’d done something wrong.

“Just…please, don’t start something with me that you don’t intend to finish. I don’t need another disappointing memory to look back on.” She whispered, not meeting his gaze.

The room became swallowed in silence and she never thought quiet could be that loud. He simply nodded, causing her heart to sink. The Mike that can’t commit to anyone is back. She had hoped she was wrong; and she was.

Because he shocked her once more. Moving forward, he brought his hand up to cup her cheek. It was such a small, intimate gesture; she allowed herself to lean into the warm, soft touch, lifting her own hand up to wrap around his. To any onlookers, it wouldn’t have meant much. But to her, it meant the world. This was a big step for him; huge, actually. She knew. She watched as his honey eyes grew timid, looking between her lips and her eyes. He didn’t speak a word and he didn’t need to. His eyes had a habit of doing all of the talking for him. He hated it. She loved it.

She pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips, watching her favorite smile return to his features. He tackled her in a hug, falling over into a river of her pillows and a sea of laughter. He released a sigh of relief as he engulfed her small frame in his arms; exactly where she should be. 

The thought brought a smile to her lips. She couldn’t help it.

Because almost doesn’t mean anything and almost doesn’t get you anywhere. Luckily for her, Michael Munroe was not an almost. He was her definite.

Fin! That’s a wrap on my first Until Dawn one shot! I hope you enjoyed because Sam/Mike is my favorite ship in the game, and I pray others feel the same!