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My Type is Any Man Named “Sam W”- Part 1

Summary: When life falls apart and you decide on a big change, a new man walks into your life. One problem? He has the same name as your ex. Can you avoid the growing feelings for this new Sam W? Or will it end just like your last relationship?

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader, Ex!Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 3026

Warnings: breakup, mourning/grieving, mentions of injuries, mentions of sleeping around, mentions of fighting

Square Filled: Free Space for @samwbingo

A/N: Surprise, a new series! I’m super excited for this series, it was a blast to write. Look for the next part in a couple of days, and feel free to join the tag list (linked at the end)! Special thanks to @that-one-gay-girl for betaing!

Part 1 of my My Type is Any Man Named “Sam W” Series

Series Masterlist Here

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Life was never really what you had pictured.

As a kid, you had been sucked into the hunting life when something happened to your father. Your mother had gotten obsessed and dove into what had actually happened, dragging you with her. When she died, you only being 19, you were all alone.

Until you stumbled onto a hunt with the Winchester brothers. They were cautious about you at first, but after a hunt where you saved their lives, they invited you to join them full time. Dean was like an older brother; helpful, protective, kind, and all that you had ever wanted in a sibling. Sam though, he was different.

After fighting it for months and essentially years, you two finally started dating. Dean wasn’t too happy until he saw how you two being together made you both, and then he approved fully. Sam was all you could ask for from a partner: supportive, kind, sweet, and more. It worked for you both, considering the similar lives you had both led.

You stuck with Sam through…everything. Through the angels, through Dean dying (multiple times), through Sam himself going insane, through the monsters that were thrown at you left and right, through Ruby, and more.

As time went on, you knew you loved him, you knew you wouldn’t want or need anyone else, because Sam Winchester was it for you.

Until he decided he wasn’t.

---

You stared at the man you loved with all your heart, tears filling your eyes. “W-what?”

Sam shifted in place, one of his arms in a sling as he stared at you from across the library table. “...you heard me.”

“No, I-I need you to say it again,” you stuttered out, feeling your hands start to shake. “Because obviously, this isn’t real, or-or, you-”

“It’s real,” he stated, his shoulders pulled back and his spine straight. “We...need to break up.”

You stared at him in silence for what felt like hours, and Sam stared back, his hazel eyes unwavering.

“....why?” you whispered. “Tell me why you-you want to end it now, here, after all these years?!”

Sam didn’t flinch as your volume rose, and didn’t react to the tears streaming down your face. “With everything that’s going on, with the Mark and Dean being a demon...I can’t focus on you anymore. I need to focus on my brother, and-”

“And I was helping you find him!” you screamed, standing from the table, the wooden chair clattering against the floor. “I’ve been through worse with you, helped you with worse, and-”

“Y/N,” he said, making you stop as he stood slowly. “...It’s not something I can do anymore. I’m sorry.”

Feeling the tears streak down your cheeks, you took a shaky breath. “Tell me you don’t love me,” you whispered. “Tell me you aren’t in love with me, and I...I’ll….go.”

You thought he wouldn’t be able to; Sam was more in touch with his emotions than you thought and had been the first one to say those three special words. He told you them constantly, whenever you needed them, even if you didn’t realize you did.

But as Sam stared at you, standing slowly, his gaze didn’t waver, his face didn’t break.

He wasn’t crying.

“Y/N, I love what we had, and I love who you are...but I’m not in love with you.”

You sobbed, covering your mouth and stumbling back, gaze snapping to the floor.

Years ago, before you two had started dating, you and Sam had gotten into a long discussion about the difference between loving someone, and being in love with them. Your point had been something he hadn’t realized, and in the end, had agreed upon: loving someone was loving who they were and what made them, but being in love with someone was craving every part of them, needing them, and not being able to breathe without them.

Hearing that the man you loved with all your being and had always been in love with...wasn’t in love with you anymore….hurt. It hurt more than you had ever thought.

“...I’ll…” You tried to take deep breaths, not daring to look up. “I’ll pack my things and leave then, I guess.”

“Y/N, you can stay, it’s-”

“It would break my heart even more, Sam,” you said, clenching your eyes shut. “Being here, where I thought we would spend our lives together?... I can’t, I...I’m sorry.”

You could him sigh before he said, “I understand. I’m...I know it doesn’t help, but I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You bit your lip to hold back tears, turning and walking out of the library towards the room you had once called yours. But it wasn’t anymore, and never would be.

Shoving everything of yours into duffle bags that had previously been in the closet, you worked fast, your speed only pushed by the idea of Sam coming into the room. He didn’t, luckily, probably sensing the tension that was lingering in the Bunker already.

An hour later, you were in one of the cars from the Bunker, Sam leaving the keys on the War Room table, and you were gone, the familiar entrance in your rearview mirror.

---

Leaving Sam had been harder than you had ever thought. Sam had been a part of your life, a major part, for almost ten years; you had built a routine with him, built a life. And now that was all gone. The people you had known and loved for ten years? Gone. The home you had made and lived in for over 5? Gone. And everything you had only seemed to remind you of Sam.

The first month away, you tried to throw yourself into hunting. It seemed smart, do your “job” and forget the man who had broken your heart. Drinking helped slightly when you weren’t on a case, but cases rarely helped. Working to save people and hunt monsters only reminded you of all the hunts you had done with Sam beside you.

The second month after the break, you stopped hunting but kept traveling to towns and staying in motels. Random one-night stands with men from bars was your normal routine, your excuse being that you needed a distraction and a chance to forget Sam. It didn’t help.

Month three consisted of a fight daily between hunting and not. Hunting was all you had really known since you were 8. But it reminded you of him. The research was things you had learned with him. The fighting were techniques you had learned from him. It was all too much, but it was all you had ever known.

The fourth month was the breaking point. Jody Mills had called and left a message, asking if you were okay because she hadn’t heard from you. One of the sentences she had said had been, “I asked Sam if everything was alright, and he said not to worry about it, but I am.” Sam hadn’t told her, probably hadn’t told anyone that knew you, that he had ended the relationship. The fucking bastard.

So the choice was simple. You called Jody back and said, “Sorry, Jody, I’m not really hunting anymore. Not since Sam broke up with me.” She screamed in outrage for a bit, before making you swear to call her if you needed anything, including if you found a hunt.

That one call from Jody though, had been your breaking point. You were done with hunting, with anything to do with Samuel Winchester.

So you moved to a city you had never been to, found a job, and settled down. DC was busy, for sure, but it was nice, it was normal. You didn’t worry about monsters or hiding or any of that bullshit, you just needed to worry about getting enough food for the week and clocking into work on time.

Life was good, life was...normal.

---

Today marked three months since moving to DC, three months since you had entered a normal job, three months since you had officially started to move on from Samuel Winchester breaking your heart. And it was amazing.

You had gotten a job at a coffee shop, and been promoted to manager after only a month, due to your apparent “skill at the job, at handling customers, and dealing with emergencies.” The last part seemed strange, but it was true. To your surprise, crime was a big issue in DC, from aliens to large superhero fights.

You had never seen a superhero fight until moving here, but not you saw one at least once a week. Part of you hated the danger that came with these superheroes, but you knew how to handle danger, and for once you weren’t in the thick of it.

Today though was quickly becoming a mess. A battle had happened more than a mile away, but in twenty minutes it was on the very street facing the cafe.

You rushed all the baristas into the back room as soon as possible, checking for anyone else left in the open. Just your luck though, checking the lobby meant you were in the lobby when the grunts dressed in all black (how was that helpful?) drove straight towards your windows.

Before you could register anything else, a man was suddenly in front of you, two large metal wings wrapping around you both as the car crashed into the store, and into his back. The collision ended and he looked down at you through his red goggles. “You alright?”

You nodded, your mouth glued shut at the fact that his arms were wrapped around your waist, something you hadn’t felt in seven months.

The man luckily took your nod and unwrapped his wings, nudging you towards the back doors before spinning to face the SUV and the men that were fighting the other heroes.

You let your coworkers help you to sit, letting the shock run through your system as they asked question after question.

One question finally registered though. “That was the Falcon, right?”

You looked to the teen, a customer that had been getting a coffee before going home from school. “Who?” you asked softly.

“Falcon,” the boy repeated. “He’s an Avenger, works with Captain America and Black Widow. Pretty cool dude.”

“Oh he’s great,” one of the baristas spoke up from her spot on the floor. “He comes in sometimes when he’s not working and is in town. His name is...Sam, I think.”

Your heart immediately dropped through your stomach at the name, and you fell back into silence as they talked about Sam, otherwise known as the Falcon. You didn’t need another Sam to come and ruin your life again, so made a promise to yourself to not get close to the man at all.

It wasn’t like you would ever see him again though.

---

How could one person be so wrong?

The owners of the cafe seemed to have this happen a lot (did superheroes cause that much ruin?) and the store was fully fixed and operational in less than fourteen days, you and all other employees receiving counseling for the incident as well. And it was nice to be back so fast, it meant you were finally outside of your own head again.

But the afternoon of the re-open, as you were checking over the baristas, a man walked through the door, the bell alerting you to his presence. Your eyes ran over him like they ran over every customer, a habit to make sure you knew what they looked like if something went wrong (your old hunting habits didn’t go away easily). This man seemed familiar though, in his stance, his face shape, and the way he moved towards the counter, his own deep brown eyes scanning over the workers behind the counter.

Oh fuck, it was Falcon.

You spun to slid into the backroom and hopefully escape his notice, when his eyes met yours, an instant smile growing on his lips.

Oh no. He had a cute smile.

“Hey!” he called, moving towards you. “I was hoping to see you here; you doing alright after that crash?”

“I’m fine,” you replied, trying to figure out a way to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “Nothing a good few days of rest doesn’t help.” That was a lie, you had been totally fine and used to the pain, stupid hunting. “I’m surprised you’re up and around though, you took the blunt of the force.”

Fuck, Y/N, you’re supposed to end the conversation, not continue it!

The man chuckled, his grin growing as he leaned against the counter. “I’ve had worse. I’m glad you’re okay though, wouldn’t want a pretty thing like you too hurt.”

You cursed the baristas behind you as they giggled at the obvious flirting Sam was doing.

“I promise I’m okay, Sam,” you responded, now urgent to end the conversation. There was no chance you would date for a long time, let alone date someone else named Sam.

“You know my name?” His eyebrows rose as his smile morphed into a smirk. “Seems I’m at a disadvantage, not knowing yours.”

“I like to know real names of people, not superhero ones,” you stated, choosing to ignore his push for your name.

“Well that’s fair,” he commented, nodding. “The name’s Sam Wilson then, for the sake of formal introductions.”

Fuck. His name was the name of your ex AND his last name started with the same letter? There was no way in hell you were gonna put yourself through that again. Nope.

You opened your mouth to thank him for stopping to check on you, but one of the girls to your side quickly interjected, “Her name’s Y/N.” Your eyes snapped to her, and you glared as she smirked at you, before meeting Sam’s eyes again and adding, “She’s just shy.”

“Nothing wrong with shy,” Sam responded, nodding in thanks to her before meeting your gaze again.

“Never,” you ground out, trying to keep your posture. “Sadly, I have some manager things to do. One of my baristas will take care of you though, have a good day.”

You spun on your heel and pushed through into the back room, repeating the promise in your head to yourself to not let his Sam Wilson get to you in any sort of way. You didn’t want heartbreak again.

---

Sam Wilson was a persistent motherfucker.

Since that day two weeks ago, he had visited the cafe every other day, and it was always when you were there. Some days you were just clocking on, other days you were in the middle of your shift. Every single visit it was very clear that he was flirting with you, only wanted to talk to you, and it was getting harder and harder to make excuses to not talk to him. He seemed like a great guy, but you were only trying to protect your heart, you had to.

Today was the first day he had come while you were clocking off.

It would be much harder to get him to leave you alone now. Granted, Sam had already shown you he was a good guy, he let you leave if you needed to, was respectful, and didn’t push if you didn’t answer a question. But you didn’t want him to try and follow you home or anything.

Sliding your shoulder over your back, you waved goodbye to your coworkers as Sam moved towards the counter, a grin on his face. “Afternoon, Y/N.”

“You’re running late, Wilson,” you replied. Calling him Sam hit too close to home still, and so Wilson was the next best option, since he had given you his last name.

“Busy morning,” he said, stopping beside you. “You’re off early.”

“Weird shift change,” you told him, before stepping away. “Sadly, I have to go, but-”

He reached out to touch you and you flinched, Sam stopping instantly. He studied your face for a moment, but as you met his eyes, you whispered, “....yes?”

Softer this time, he said, “Some friends of mine and I are going out tonight, to a bar. I know you’re new to the city, and wanted to invite you.”

You froze at his invitation because it meant two things. First, he really did want to talk with you, be a part of your life. Second, he was paying attention to the things you mentioned.

Biting your lip, you muttered, “I’ve lived here for eight months now.”

“Yeah, but…” He blushed slightly, realizing his mess-up as he looked away. You hated to admit it, but the movement was cute, and his blush was even cuter as he shifted on his feet. “No one can have enough friends.”

You laughed softly at what he was trying, impressed with him slightly. He was really trying to get you to go out. “I’ll...think about it,” you said, trying to ignore the instant grin on his face at your words. “Where?”

“It’s called Club Essence, off of fifth,” he replied. “We’re hoping to meet at 8.”

“Then…” You slowly backed away from him, walking backward towards the exit. “You might see me at 8.”

Sam Wilson smirked, responding, “I hope I will, baby.”

You gasped softly at the nickname and spun on your heel, trying not to dart out of the bar too quickly so it looked strange, but fast enough for him not to see the blush on your cheeks.

As soon as the door was shut and you turned towards the parking lot, your hand was over your mouth and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. The petname “baby” had always been a soft spot for you, moreso from southern men. And the second Sam Wilson and said it you could hear his southern accent, making your heart melt more.

Plus...it was something Samuel Winchester had never called you. He hadn’t liked it, preferring “sweetie” and your name more than anything else.

So to have a handsome, hot, sweet man like Sam Wilson call you the only pet name that made you melt?

You were in trouble.

-----

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