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sssammich · 22 hours

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the romance of an alternate universe

to think that you can imagine a different world so easily beyond this one, if only to pacify, if only to forget. the bittersweetness of your joy in another world where little currently exists here. the longing that doesn't come away empty handed because there, she likes you, trusts you, has no reason to ever question years of friendship and the traces of more.

you only have the one life here, in this one, in this universe, in this timeline, in this moment and that's all.

but the possibility in others, even in just one other, is enough to make you hope that things here will eventually blow over better for you.

knowing the existence of alternate universes, having traveled to them, aches inside your chest because there, your dreams are real. there, your heartbreak is soothed. there, she does not regard you with hatred, disdain, anger, disappointment, heartbreak. there, you did not commit mistake after mistake, each one chained to one another until in the end, you come away with cuffs that lock you, an imprisonment of your own design.

maybe you consider moving to an alternate universe, weighing to suffer the consequences of your choice there instead of here. because it beats being here, it beats having ruin and ashes as the world you live in now.

your friends and family won't understand. they can't understand. all your good intentions remain good, but your impact have been nothing but disastrous.

certainly the rogue alien pummeling you into the rooftop of her tower doesn't understand. but maybe he's traveled here from an alternate universe of his own. and he's just trying to get away. that, you understand.

despite the blood and grime all over you, you wrap your arms around his neck and you don't let go--he's a growing tidal wave as he attempts to rid himself of you. but you hold onto him, locking your limbs around his back, and you don't let go. if there's one thing you'll do right today, it's defeat him.

the rooftop doors open and you see her. she is so beautiful today. and you, bloodied and aching, are exhausted.

you cannot read what her eyes or face are showing--might be the pounding headache and blurred vision on your part. but she is still looking. and it's more than what you can say for the last four miserable months of your life.

you think you hear her say your name, but you're not sure. you don't want to get your hopes up.

he's punching your side and you just tighten your hold around his neck which only pisses him off more. well, get in line, buddy, you're not the only one.

agents rush out to surround your duel with him, and you hear your sister command this small army that has circled you. her appearance just means that you have to hold on even more knowing that one wrong move and you're endangering two people you love.

this alien has just about had enough of you, and you can't agree more, so you try to subdue him by using what remaining energy you have to deliver an unconscious blow, but he gets a hand on your ankle and yanks you off of him before slamming your body down onto the concrete. a crater with your name on it.

there are muffled gasps and you hear your sister order for agents to attack and he wails above you in anger as specialized bullets hit him. his massive hand grabs you by your emblem and he pushes you into the ground, your lungs fighting to breathe at the heavy weight. your hands paw at his wrist to push him away, to no avail. your powers are waning, your energy is zapped, you really are so very tired.

when you look up, there is surprising calm in his onyx eyes despite the rumbling storm around you.

and you think this might be it for you.

you expect pain on the final blow but instead of pain, your body is heaved forward and into nothingness, the weight of his hand on your chest now acting as an anchor.

you hear your sister call for you. but you also hear her, her piercing scream cutting through your consciousness. there is panic, there is worry. for you.

and then they’re gone.

and so are you.

only to open your eyes in the exact same place as before underneath the exact same sky. except there are no agents. there is no rogue alien. there is no sister.

but there is her.

tentative, frightened, curious. she is looking at you and you are looking at her and you realize she is not who you know. and you wonder if the crushing weight on your chest is a phantom pressure from the rogue alien who was seconds away from killing you.

she is kneeling beside your body that's still stretched out flat on the ground. and she is looking at you with just so much.

and she is saying, “who are you?"

and you.

you begin to cry.

#samficlet #samfic #supercorp #i mean listen when i have things to do that are due soon #i end up doing literally not that #so here we are #anyway sad rift vibes as a treat #but also potential universe hopping #maybe i will write more of this #maybe i never will touch it again #who just really knows ya know #supercorp fanfiction

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your-divine-ribs · 8 days

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Kinktober 🩵 Inside

"We don't have to do anything, we don't even have to move, we could just lie here together. I just wanna be inside ya love, is that okay?"

Words: 1.7k // Sam Fender // cock-warming

Kinktober Masterlist Main Masterlist

The bed dips and you stir, your mind fogged over with sleep, caught in that hazy realm between dreaming and wakefulness. You squint through the darkness at the faintly glowing display on your bedside clock.

4:06 am... ughhh... you have to get up for work in less than three hours.

Your eyes flutter shut again, chasing sleep, elongating your limbs in a restless stretch and going to turn over but something stops you, your body colliding with the warmth of bare skin.

"Sam?" His name sounds thick on your tongue, your voice laden with sleep. Of course it's him, who else would it be? He's just got back from his American tour at this ungodly hour, slipping straight into your bed like he's never been away. Filling that empty space that's been driving you crazy for three whole weeks.

"Am sorry love," he murmurs from behind you and you feel an arm wrap tightly around your waist as he pulls you in closer to the warmth of his bare chest. "Didn't mean to wake ya."

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, planting a few soft kisses as his breath warms your exposed skin. The hand on your waist strays under the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wear to sleep in, rubbing small circles.

"S'okay," you mumble into the darkness of your room, then "I'm so tired" as an afterthought, a weak kind of resistance even though you're already pushing your hips back into his.

He's so soft and warm and he feels so good pressed up tight against you, comforting and rousing in equal measures. You hear him laugh, feel the warm huff of air tickle the back of your neck. "Thought you said you were tired pet..."

"I am," I you insist, sulkiness tinging your words. "I've got to get up in a few hours. It's good to have you back though... missed you."

"Mmm, missed you too," he hums into the back of your neck, sending a pleasant vibration through you. His hands wander downward to smooth over the contours of your ass through the thin lace of your panties and he lightly squeezes you, making you squirm.

"Don't get any ideas, it's like 4am," you whine, burying your face in your pillow and he's quick to reply, surprisingly agreeable.

"I'm tired too, bloody knackered actually. Can never sleep in those tour bus bunks. Got fidget-arse Joe above me and Dean just across the way snoring like a warthog. Don't worry love, shagging's the last thing on my mind right now."

"It is?"

The disbelief rings out clear in your voice, earning another chuckle from him. This is novel. You don't think Sam's ever not in the mood. He usually needs little encouragement, just the feel of your body pressing up against his enough to raise his pulse... and to raise something else.

Despite his words you can feel the definition of his cock through his boxers pressing against the swell of your ass. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little disappointed. You've missed this... you've missed him and the way he makes you feel.

"I thought that maybe we could try something different," he murmurs, voice quiet, a little tentative like he's testing the waters. "I've missed ya so much, just being here, cuddling and stuff, being close... and I've really missed being inside ya, like you wouldn't believe."

His hips shunt forward a little as if to demonstrate and your breath catches, a tiny spark lighting, threatening to burn away your tiredness.

But Sam has other ideas, his voice hopeful as you feel him shift behind you, shedding his boxers. "We don't have to do anything, we don't even have to move, we could just lie here together. I just wanna be inside ya love, is that okay?"

"Okay..." you mumble, a little hesitantly even though you're already tugging your panties down your legs and kicking them off. You can't deny the way your body reacts to him being so close, the thrill that simmers in your core as you imagine him burying himself inside you whilst he fucks you slow and deep into the mattress.

But that's not what he's implying... is it?

Your confusion quickly melts away as you feel him reaching to hook your leg over his hip, opening you up as you feel his unclothed cock pressing temptingly against your entrance. He drags the tip up and down your slit, coating himself in your wetness, mouthing tender kisses on your neck as he begins to ease himself slowly inside you.

"Sam..."

You breathe out his name, an automatic reaction as your body stretches and moulds itself around him, accepting him, welcoming him. The slow, blissful drag of his cock against your walls has you fisting the bedsheets as he buries himself inside you up to the hilt.

"Shit... forgot how good you feel," he says, voice slightly shaky, large hands moving from your hips to slide around your waist, pulling you closer. He presses his lips against your neck again, murmuring sweet praises that travel straight to your core, your hips automatically pushing back to seek that blissful friction.

"Nuh-huh love," he chuckles, fingers flexing around your waist, holding you tightly pressed against him. "That's not how it works. Ya gotta keep still, okay?"

He holds completely still in you, hot and thick against your tight heat and you can't help but squirm from the need for friction, movement, anything.

"Sa-am," you whine, frustration chasing away any remnants of sleepiness. "I'm all for experimentation in bed but this is like torture!"

"Hmm my pretty girl getting impatient huh?" He teases, shifting his hips barely imperceptibly, pushing himself impossibly deeper until his cock kisses the depths of you. You have to clamp your lips shut tight to stifle a whine, determined not to show your neediness. You want him badly but this is his idea and you're stubborn as hell. You're positive you'll get what you want but you don't want to show your weakness. You don't want to be the one to break first.

"Nah, I can handle it," you reply, trying to hide the smirk from your voice, faking a yawn which you hope sounds convincing. "And I am still pretty tired after all... reckon we could sleep like this? Feels nice."

"Err... yeah... sure," he mutters and you swear you hear a note of dismay in his voice. He probably thought you'd be begging by now. "It is really nice. Ya feel so warm and snug and tight around me... perfect."

You just smile to yourself, making out like you're getting comfy whilst you surreptitiously bring a finger up to brush over your clit, your pussy automatically clenching as you bite back a sigh.

"Shit," he hisses, and you relish the keen sound he makes as you press down on your clit again and your body reacts, contracting around him, effectively milking his cock.

His fingers move against your skin, grasping you firmly, the pressure of his teeth grazing your shoulder as he bites down a little where the neckline of your t-shirt gapes open. The sensation makes you clamp down on him again, a moan slipping out that you don't try to hide this time.

"Fuckin' 'ell love, I don't think I can do this after all," he mutters throatily, hands back on your hips as he draws himself back to fully plunge into you, an impassioned groan vibrating across your skin. His fingers are digging in so hard you feel he might leave permanent dents.

"Thought it was a stupid idea," you giggle, triumphant. "Now are you gonna fuck me then or what?"

"Can't bloody resist ya can I?" He huffs in amusement, your bold request finally breaking his resolve. You both knew full well it wasn't going to be enough. It was never going to be enough just being close, the two of you always needed more of each other in every single way.

You let him manoeuvre your body so he can slide on top of you, the delicious heavy weight of him pushing you face-down into the mattress. You arch yourself back into him and he responds by thrusting deep, tangling his fingers through yours and pressing your hands firm to the bed as he sinks into you with a groan of pure relief.

You're completely enveloped by him, his cock hitting the deepest parts of you in this position, your moans and whimpers muffled by the pillow as he finds a steady rhythm, each buck of his hips pushing you closer to the brink.

"Feels so good... missed ya so much... love ya so much darlin'..." His words are interspersed with kisses, hot, wet and sweet, scattered along your jaw and your neck, every thrust rocking deep and hitting that blissful little spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

You don't normally come from sex alone but tonight is different, you can feel the pressure building deep inside, shockwaves of indescribable pleasure as you surrender yourself to him.

He groans your name out loud, hips stuttering against your ass, grinding a final thrust as he comes, pouring into you like molten heat.

You both lie there for a moment in the quiet, completely spent and panting, him slumped over you until you begin to squirm beneath him. "Sam, you're squashing me now!"

"Shit, sorry pet," he laughs, rolling back on to his side, taking you with him so you're still fused together pressed up tight against him, the little spoon. You can feel him softening inside you, his release dripping out of you and soaking into the sheets.

"So much for just lying there," you grin and hear him chuckle, feel the warm vibrations of his laughter carry through his body to yours. "Are you gonna let me go now then?"

"Love..." he starts, the affectionate timbre of his voice warming you through as you feel him press a soft kiss to your hair, humming softly in contentment. "I ain't ever letting you go."

#kinktober #sam fender #sam fender x reader #sam fender imagines #samfic #smut

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insecateur · 10 months

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I AM DONE... CROSS-POSTING

everything i have written myself and have up on ao3 should be on there, PLUS a few bonus things, including a fic from december 2013 that i deleted from my ao3 back in early 2021. it's not very good but i genuinely regret deleting it so it's back for archival's sake. you can check all the tags here. layout is mobile friendly and very readable imo so if for some reason you don't like reading on ao3 it's an option also. i will do my best to cross-post everything i post in the future on there as well. for now i'm going to rest

#samfic #this has consumed my brain for the last 4 days which means i still haven't made a new commissions chart i'm so sorry .#i will have that up this week or the next hopefully

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catb-fics · 9 months

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Caught in the Act (Sam Fender)…

I’m sorry if this is just a huge cop-out lol but I’ve not had the time to write anything brand new. This is a re-hash of an old catb fic but it now features Sam, it’s one of my favourite imagines and I hope you enjoy it. The link for my Sam imagines book on Wattpad is below if you’d like to read it…

Friends to lovers, NSFW content, 6.7k words xxx

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

#caught in the act #sam fender #sam fender x reader #samfic

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spneveryseason · 8 months

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HELP I got namedropped in the comments of one of my fave fics bc of the samfic poll LMAO

#I got jumpscared by my own name…#samfic authors I am so sorry

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draculagerard · 5 months

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hellooo i was wondering if you have any sam-centric fic recs? my irl friend (samgirl) is asking me for sam fic recs and i have realised i dont actually read very much samfic 💔

YES ! Also I havent read supernatural fanfics in years, so I'm forgetting exactly what happened in these so take everything I rec with a grain of salt.

Oil in the Lungs is a fucking classic and a must read.

I also remember really liking this one

and then i don't remember this one but I saw this in my fic rec list and it had the caption "Good god" so i'd imagine it's good

hope that helps :D

#moose asks #driftwood

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sammysnaughtygirl · 4 months

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#tumblr polls

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seasononesam · 1 year

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the situations thought last night was prompted by literally nothing lmao its one of those thoughts thats always just kind of circling around my head and i happened to be reading sam fanfic (samfic) so i applied it to him

the cw's supernatural (2005-2020) is literally just sam being put in situations...says SO much about society!

#and i love it...#answered #anonymous

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fictionalabyss · 3 years

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The Winchesters : Sam’s going to kill him.

Pairing : Winchester sister!Reader x Daniel, Sam, Dean, John

Word count : 1,301

Written for : @samwinchesterbingo

Square : Dark!Sam

Beta’d by : @iflostreturntosteverogers

Chapter Warnings : Lies, dating, anger, making out with the intention of sex, possessive Sam, pissed Sam, violence, blood, injury, fear.

Series Warnings : Incest, Non-con, Violence, Death. If you do not like these topics, this series is not for you as these topics will be coming up.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

Part 5 of ‘The Winchesters’.

He closed the door behind him and when he turned, you had a sly smile on your face as you reached out for him. He chucked your bag aside as you pulled him close. Flush against your body now, he smiled down at you as his arms wrapped around you and he leaned in for a kiss. It was tender, gentle. Something most people weren’t around you.

The kiss broke, and he leaned his forehead on yours, eyes still closed. “Are you sure?” he asked, and you opened your eyes to look up at him. “I don’t need-”

“I’m sure.” you cut him off, and his eyes opened to meet yours. “I want to.” Your hand came up, fingers brushing his neck and jaw while your thumb stroked over his bottom lip. “You make me feel like maybe I can be loved, and I want to feel that.”

“You are loved.” he smiled again, lips pursing to kiss your thumb.

You let your hand slowly lower, thumb moving down his chin, then throat before you slid your hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. He chuckled a little into it and you started moving towards the bed and bringing him with you. Moments later, you were on your back and he was over you, his weight pressing down on you as your hands moved up under his shirt wanting to feel as much of him as you could. His skin felt so hot to touch, and smooth. He was perfect. So god damn perfect, so innocent and sweet. And he loved you.

Someone as normal and kind as him actually loved someone like you. A tear prickled at your eye knowing that if he knew the truth about who you really were, he’d never look at you like that again. Hell, he’d run away from you and never look back.

“Hey..” he pulled back, thumb wiping away the tear that had started to run down your cheek. Worry etched his face for the second time tonight.

“It’s okay.” you chuckled, and wiped at your cheeks yourself before cupping his face and bringing him back in for a sweet peck on the lips. “I promise, I’m okay. I’ve just never felt this happy before.” You didn’t want to see him worried. It would never work, it could never work, so if he was going to just be a memory, you wanted to remember him always happy. Loving. Kind.

“Good. I’ll do my best to keep you feeling this happy always.” It was a promise you knew he couldn’t keep, but you let him promise it, and you let yourself believe in it. You nodded before your lips met again, this time with a bit more hunger behind it.

You needed him.

You were tugging at the hem of his shirt, desperate to get it off of him when you heard the door burst open, and before you could fully process the sound, Daniel was being pulled off of you.

“Sam!” you screamed as your brother slammed Daniel into the nearby wall. “Stop!” Sam pulled Daniel from the wall just to slam him into it again harder. “Stop it!’ you cried, scrambling out of the bed to try and stop this.

“No one fucking touches you.”

He’d said it so many times throughout your life, growled it so many ways, and yet, he’d never sounded like this before. He’d never been this far gone, this pissed.

“NO ONE FUCKING TOUCHES YOU!” he screamed the words in Daniels face, spit flying from his mouth and Daniel looked terrified.

You looked from your raging brother to your terrified boyfriend. His eyes met yours, and rather than see him plead you for help, you saw how his eyes flicked to the door, as if telling you to run, to get away and save yourself.

“Sam, please, let him go.” you begged, eyes locked on Daniels. “Please.. I-”

“You better not say what I think you’re about to say.” Sam snapped, eyes turning to you. They looked so cold and dead at that moment. He was ready to kill. “Because I’m about to fucking rip him apart.” Daniel tried to move, and Sam let go of Daniel's shirt with a smirk. You saw the moment of hope flash across his face, he tried to rush towards you, towards the door, but Sam’s hand shot to his neck and slammed him against the wall again. The old dusty motel picture of a landscape rattled against the wall at the impact.

“STOP!”

“Looks like you found the perfect mark after all, Y/N.” You froze when Sam used your real name. He really intended for Daniel to die right here and right now.

“Please.” you begged, tears in your eyes as Daniel glanced at you in confusion.

“Did you really think that I didn’t know you’ve been lying? About school, about where you sneak off to at night?” Sam leaned in closer to Daniel. “That I wasn’t watching every fucking moment you had with him?”

Sam’s face twisted into a snarl as he punched Daniel in the face and the sickening sound of his nose breaking made you flinch. Fresh tears fell as you tried to work out how to stop this, if you could stop this. You should have known. You should have known he didn’t buy it, that he’d follow you. He wouldn’t just trust you like Dean did. Sam was a whole other kind of monster.

His fist was coming back for another punch when you threw caution to the wind and ran for him, trying to grab his arm to stop him. The second your fingertips brushed against him, he shoved you away, and your eyes went wide as you flew backwards, body slamming against the corner of the dresser hard, making you cry out in pain.

“You know the rules, Kitten.” You looked up at him, tears in your eyes, but he was turning his focus back on Daniel. “Anyone who touches you, fucking dies. And I don’t give a shit what stands in my way. Nothing, not even you, can stop it.”

Your eyes shot to Daniel, and as another blow landed you flinched again. Blood ran down from his nose and a cut over his cheek bone. He was trying to push, trying to defend himself, but he couldn’t. He didn’t stand a chance against Sam.

“I’m sorry.” you cried, eyes locking with his for a moment before another hit landed. “I’m sorry. I’ll- I’ll try and get help. I’m so sorry.” With that, you turned and ran from the room. You don’t know what Sam did as soon as you were out the door, but Daniel’s scream followed you.

Only one person even stood even a slight chance of being able to stop this. You just had to pray that you got there in time. You ran with everything you had, tears streaming down your face as you tried your best to ignore the pain in your side. People turned to look at you as you went, but you ignored all of them. You had to get there as quickly as possible.

“DADDY!” you cried as you burst through your front door.

John appeared from the kitchen while Dean burst out of the living room, both looking almost scared at the state of you. “Princess?” John hurried forward. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“It’s- It’s Sammy.” You were breathing heavily, and now that you were here and no longer running, your side was screaming in pain. “You have to get to him. Please.. Daddy…”

“What the fuck is happening?” Panic set in on Dean’s face.

“I’m sorry.” You cried. “It’s all my fault, I’m sorry.” You couldn’t stay up anymore, didn’t have the energy for it, the fight. You let yourself drop to your knees, crying as you clutched at your side.

John got down on his knees, while Dean looked on. “Pumpkin?” When you didn’t answer, he hooked your chin and made you look up at him. “Pumpkin, I need you to tell me what’s happening.”

“He’s going to kill him. You need to get there before someone else does. I just wanted to feel normal, Daddy.. I’m sorry. Now Sam’s going to kill him.”

“Who?”

“My boyfriend.”

You saw the moment it all registered. Dean ran for the car keys without a moment's hesitation while John let out a ‘shit’ and let you go.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry.”

“Where is he?” Dean came running back, his keys and John’s in hand and skidded to a stop.

“L-Lunar.. Room 9, right at the end..” Dean rushed out as soon as the words left your mouth, then John stood, you grabbed at sleeve, stopping him. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“You stay here. We’re going to get your brother. You see my number on that phone, you run. You hear me?” You gave him a quick nod, hand falling away from his sleeve as you let him go. Without another word, John hurried out as quickly as Dean had.

You sat there and cried your heart out, praying that they found Sam before anyone else could.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging : Demons - @iflostreturntosteverogers @deanandsamsbitch @mrswhozeewhatsis @holyfuckloueh @winchesterprincessbride @adoptdontshoppets @maddiepants @onethirstyunicorn @notyourtypicalrose @littlemiddlefoxbabe @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo @amandamdiehl @spnbaby-67

#the winchesters series #sam x reader #winchester!reader #sam #samfic #sam winchester #sam winchester fic #dean winchester #john winchester #spn #spnfic #supernatural #supernatural fic #au #spn au #supernatural au #dark au #tw : incest #tw : noncon

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sssammich · 1 month

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fic: come what may

a/n: this is a continuation of THIS post which was inspired by the fanart. please give that fanart some love if you haven't, it was so very compelling to me and that's why we're here.

anyway read the first part and then come back to this lol

---

Lena retreated to the single stall washroom after graciously thanking everyone around her for their applause and cheering. In the quiet of the small space, she was able to think about the last five minutes of her life.

It had been a week since she had spoken last with the caped hero, the word ‘villain’ rang in Lena’s ears still to this day.

It had stung her, lanced through her more like. But in this world, she had no choice but to keep moving forward if only to survive. She knew that reintegrating Lex back into her life was a risk, but what was the alternative? To let back in the one person she’d trusted with so much of herself only to be the same one who broke Lena irreparably? It figured that they would be one in the same. Supergirl had a habit of being duplicitous, after all.

Despite all of these thoughts, the dance had been more than she anticipated. For a brief moment in time, her world narrowed to the size of the dance floor when she and her former best friend twirled and glided across the space, held close to one another, swaying to the beat of the song.

Until Supergirl called out to her, the tenor of her voice bringing up a world long gone, the time together but a distant memory. Only to then ask her, “what’s your plan here, Lena?”

The illusion broke through and shattered all around them, and her eyes darkened, her heart hardened.

“You will never trust me,” she announced finally when she looked at Kara’s beautiful face, her equally beautiful blue eyes. Now, an enemy. “I can see it in your eyes.”

She pulled away and turned, not sure she could look at that face again, anymore. Still, she would admit that it was enough consolation to see Supergirl on edge, to put her on her red-booted back foot.

She recalled turning her head slightly and caught enough of Supergirl's departure from the middle of the dance floor and into the evening sky. It gave her some satisfaction, but not nearly enough to placate the ache in her chest.

Lena stared at her reflection; her makeup remained impeccably applied, impeccably in place despite the exertion of their dancing. The heat of Kara’s hands lingered all over her body, the warmth of those hands pressed into her, holding her in the illusion of safety as the song notes progressed. Her former best friend was clumsy in her movements, at least at first. It would have delighted Lena plenty to see Supergirl stumble her way through her movements. Yet, she held her own and led the two of them throughout the dance floor in an acceptable tango. On any other day, any other moment, she would have been charmed by it, let herself be led around so long as they stayed in each other's arms.

But those moments were no longer accessible to them.

She returned to her guests and maneuvered through the compliments and conversations, but every now and again, she glanced up into the open sky. Just in case.

—

In the end, Lex was defeated and rid of once and for all. The details of it were fuzzy to her now, but none of it mattered. Simply that he was gone from her life for good, that he would no longer be a terror to anyone and everyone, to those she loved.

Once again, however, she was left to pick up what remained of his ruinous rampage, if only to be surrounded by something beyond her isolation.

It was just a few scant weeks ago that she’d reached a truce with Kara and her Superfriends (nevermind that she’d once thought of them as her own friends, as well). Now here she stood weeks later: alone.

Lena had run out of options or excuses and finally sought out help from Kara without hope or expectation for true reconciliation or forgiveness, from either of them. They’d drawn their lines from one another so long ago, she’d considered them carved in stone.

Now she stood on her empty balcony overlooking the city just after the sun had set and the sky was now engulfed in dark blue.

Without a brother, a mother, a father. An orphan, twice over. It seemed that she was destined to live in solitude. They say no man was an island, yet perhaps Luthors were.

She gazed at the last remnants of the setting sun across the horizon, not giving away that she heard the sound of a cape billowing at the far end of the balcony. She made no move to say or do anything, simply took a sip of the amber liquid in her glass. If Supergirl had anything to say, then Lena was not going to stop her.

“How are you?” Kara finally said, after minutes trickled past them.

She scoffed, unable to help herself. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Kara hovered outside of the balcony. She simply took another sip of her drink.

Kara, never one to leave well enough alone, moved so that her feet touched the ground and she stood somewhere behind her. Lena closed her eyes and took a swig of all of her remaining drink.

“You’re trespassing.”

“I know.”

“I can have you arrested.”

“That’s fine.”

“What do you want from me?”

“A dance.”

Lena quickly turned around, Kara standing only a few feet away, her arm outstretched. She glanced up and met blue eyes, an ocean of patience.

Resigned, Lena unfurled the fist by her side and placed it in the offered hand. She took a step forward until their bodies were almost flush with one another, Kara’s other hand placed on the small of her back. An easy fit between them. A thought that Lena shoved into a box for rumination and reflection later on.

“There’s no music,” she commented needlessly even as she put her free hand on Kara’s shoulder, her nerves manifesting in lightly scratching the fabric of the supersuit under her fingertips.

“There’s always music.” Just then, Kara pulled her phone from a hidden compartment behind her and pressed the screen until soft music started playing. It was the final duet in Moulin Rouge between the two leads, where she and Kara shed a tear or two when they watched it in the past—a distant lifetime ago. They were now extraordinarily different people from those versions of themselves.

“This musical was a tragedy.”

The superhero shrugged, her eyes focused past Lena’s head. “I know.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

Kara eventually returned her attention until their eyes met and Lena waited. She watched as Kara took a deep breath and offered Lena a cautious smile, resignation plastered on her own face. “I’m trying to tell you a lot of somethings.”

She studied Kara’s face, wanted to glean any kind of information from her features alone, but Kara betrayed nothing. “Start with one.”

“I’ve been practicing.” When she furrowed her brows in confusion, Kara clarified by twirling Lena out of her embrace only to pull her back into her orbit once again. This time without bumbling through any of the movements nor without a stutter in her steps.

The move surprised Lena enough to take her breath away, her senses suddenly alight as she considered what any of it meant. When? How? Why?

“Tell me another,” she whispered, her hands grasping tighter onto Kara just as the song started to swell.

“I want to start over.”

Lena stopped in her tracks so Kara did, too. Distantly, Lena observed that neither released their holds of one another.

“Why? We’ll only hurt each other.”

“Maybe. Probably,” Kara supplied before tugging Lena back closer to her and swayed side to side to encourage Lena to do the same. “But life without you in it is infinitely worse, I think. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take my chances.”

Lena’s heart felt like it was getting catapulted across time and space. And maybe it was actually getting catapulted along with every sway she took with Kara. Still, she couldn’t help but push. “Even with a villain?”

Kara grimaced slightly before flashing an apologetic smile. “Sure, Lena. Even with a villain.”

“I was one, you know,” she offered, watching for Kara’s response. She was complicit, had gotten her own hands dirty. She owned up to that.

“I know.” But Kara simply shrugged and brought them closer. “Believe it or not, I’ve been one, too. You’re not exactly very special in that department, Lena.”

A small laugh that bubbled out of her caught her off guard, and Kara smiled at her before spinning her away and back together again until Lena hid her face against the crook of Kara’s neck until the song finally ended.

They parted from each other, Kara taking a step back until she was a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Thanks for the dance,” Kara said.

“You’ve gotten better.”

“I appreciate that. It means the practice has been paying off.” As if nodding to herself, Kara gave her a smile and began to turn so as to take off into the night sky, but Lena stopped her.

“Tell me one more,” she urged, realizing she didn’t want their interaction to end quite yet.

Kara then looked over her shoulder. “Can I come back tomorrow?”

“If you’d like.”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Kara’s body twisted so she was looking at Lena more fully. “Goodnight, Lena.”

“Goodnight, Kara.”

Lena watched as she took off into the sky, disappearing into the night. She’d stayed out there for a little while longer, the heat of her drink coursing through her veins while the moment between them warmed her against the cool breeze that passed through.

Nothing had yet been fixed, and there was a long road ahead of them. But something in her caged heart had loosened, allowing her to breathe again. That was a start.

#samfic #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #some canon divergence re: s5 #supercorp sunday #totally gonna count it as that #I KNOW i have other things #don't worry about those they'll get written #but you know how the lazy susan gets #she's fickle as hell #anyway shoutout to tumblr user lililustra #for the art #I ALSO TOOK IT probably a whole different direction than their intentions but here we are #it's fine it's fine

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5typesoftrash · 4 years

Text

May 2nd

I literally started this fic at 23:20. I shit you not. I wrote this entire thing in 40 minutes. So it’s probably garbage. But I had an idea and I had to go with it, so here I am, posting Sam’s birthday fic at exactly midnight on May 2nd, 2020.

I hope it doesn’t suck.

****

May 2nd, 1983.

A woman screams in a hospital bed. She is pretty and blonde and in incredible pain, and after twelve agonizing hours, no longer pregnant. A tiny baby boy is brought into the world, and his name is Sam Winchester.

Welcome to Earth, Sam Winchester! You are destined for pain.

May 2nd, 1984.

Sam Winchester turns one year old. His big brother Dean is 5. They are home alone. There is no cake and no candles, but Dean does sing his way through a mangled rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’, because everyone deserves to be sung to on their birthday.

Sam cries almost the entire day. He wants his mommy.

May 2nd, 1985.

Sam is 2 today. He smiles real big at Dean when he approaches with mashed-up baby carrots. He gets them all over his cheeks and lips and hair and bib, and he bangs his spoon on his high chair, giggling like a maniac and holding onto one of Dean’s fingers for dear life. Five weeks ago he said his first word; it was “De!”

He doesn’t let Dean get more than three feet away from him.

May 2nd, 1986.

Sam turns three. Their dad is there for once, and he forgets about Sam’s birthday completely. He goes out and gets drunk instead. He comes home after Dean has fallen asleep with Sam in his arms. He eats a cupcake on his own in the dark.

Sam is just learning what misery means.

May 2nd, 1990.

Sam is seven. For his seventh birthday, his dad gives him a gun and his big brother teaches him how to use it. He goes out back and shoots at their dad’s empty beer cans. Sam tries to ignore the slight pang of… something in his chest when a new one appears every fifteen minutes. He knows John is inside, drinking himself into a stupor in front of the television.

He hates his life, and everything about it.

May 2nd, 2001.

Sam turns eighteen today. In two months he’s going off to Stanford. If all goes well, he’ll never see his dad again. If not… he’ll never see his brother again. It’s a pretty horrible arrangement, in all honesty, but he’s a legal adult now and he wants to do things. He wants to be free. He goes to a convenience store and buys a scratch-off lottery ticket, a pack of cigarettes he’ll never smoke, and a skin mag just because he can.

He wishes that it would fill the emptiness in his ribs, just below his heart.

May 2nd, 2002.

Sam is nineteen. It’s the first time he’s gotten a real celebration for his birthday. Yeah, Dean tried when Sam was nine until he was like sixteen, but there was never a party. It was always some four-dollar cupcakes from Target with a candle in them and one person singing him a song. This year, he has a beautiful girlfriend, his best friend Brady, and at least twelve other people there, and they all seem to actually care that he was born on this day nineteen years ago.

It’s quite a novel feeling. He should feel worse about that than he does.

May 2nd, 2005.

It’s his first birthday back on the road with Dean. At first he thinks he’s forgotten about it, but just as they’re going to sleep (in the Impala, because they couldn’t find a vacant motel), Dean tosses something into the backseat. Sam picks up the wrapped parcel and opens it. It’s a framed photo of them when they were six and ten. Sam remembers leaving it in Dean’s duffel the day he left. Dean really kept it all these years?

“Happy 22nd, Sammy,” Dean mumbles before turning over to go to sleep. Sam lies awake for hours after.

May 2nd, 2012.

He doesn’t feel 29. Everything that’s happened and some days he still feels as though he’s barely twenty, wide-eyed and shiny and figuring out how the adult world works without his big brother there to guide him through everything. Except his big brother is there. And he’ll be there, at least for the next five months. In five months, he’ll get blown up by a very special bomb. In five months, he’ll go to Purgatory. Sam will think he’s dead. Sam will try to move on.

Sam won’t move on. Sam’s long since learned that he doesn’t move on.

May 2nd, 2020.

Sam Winchester is 37. He’s died more than once, his brother has died more than a hundred times, he’s met literal god, plus himself from other dimensions… and he feels fifty. It’s amazing, the way that in 8 years he went from feeling so much younger than he is to feeling so much older. But here he is, gearing up for one last fight, knowing – or maybe hoping, he’s not quite sure – that he won’t make it out alive.

But he’s going into the fight anyway. Because he may be destined for pain, but he can be destined for greatness, too.

Dean bakes him a pie.

#sw #sam winchester #samfic #deansil writes #happy birthday sam winchester

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