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e-dubbc11 · 28 days

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Still?

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of guns and gunshot wounds, smexy imagination (f! Receiving oral), mentions of death, a few tears, smooches, alludes to sex

Word Count: 3.9K-ish

Summary: After a run in with a shapeshifter and the local police, you end up with a bullet wound that you can’t patch up yourself. You call your best friend that you haven’t seen in a couple of years and that you’ve been in love with since you were kids

A/N: Spoilers for anyone that’s never watched the show, or watched past season 5. This takes place a couple of years after the apocalypse and Sam goes into the cage with Lucifer and Dean shows up at Lisa’s door.

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Your escape hadn’t been easy but you managed to get away and with only one bullet wound courtesy of the local police. Of course they didn’t believe you when you told them that the “person” they were tracking wasn’t you, it was only someone who looked exactly like you.

The shifter would have to wait, you needed this bullet out of your oblique muscle now but you weren’t going to be able to get it out by yourself and there was no way you could go to a hospital with your face plastered all over the news.

But you were alone without anyone to call. Well, that’s not exactly true, there was one person you could call but you did not want to see him. However, what other choice did you have?

After checking into a motel outside of town (they probably hadn’t seen the news yet), you texted him.

You awake? I need your help.

It was late so you were surprised to see the three dots immediately appear underneath your message.

On my way. Text me your location.

You gave him the address of the motel and he wrote back that he was about 40 minutes away so all you could do was sit and wait.

The sky had been in a vengeful mood all day and finally after a particularly loud crack of thunder, the sky split in half and you could hear the rain hammering against the roof and pelting the hoods of the cars outside your door.

Hoping it wouldn’t impede his arrival time, the incessant rainstorm dumped buckets of rain leaving massive puddles in the parking lot and the runoff water sounded like a waterfall falling into the storm drain.

After you sent the text, he was all you could think about…Dean Winchester. He was your childhood friend, fellow hunter and the man who’s had your heart ever since you were kids…although he didn’t know it.

**********

You met Dean, his brother Sam, and their father John when you were 12. Dean was 14 and Sam was 10. You and your mother were crashing at Bobby’s for a couple of days after a particularly draining hunt for a vampire nest.

The only familiar voice coming from downstairs was Bobby’s, but there were also three others so you decided to investigate while your mother was still sleeping off your first big kill.

Creeping down the stairs, you tried to make as little noise as possible and as you peered around the corner, the cutest boy you had ever seen was directly in your line of sight.

He was wearing a brown leather jacket, had light brown hair, eyes the color of summer grass, and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose. Immediately, your heart started beating faster and you felt flutters in your stomach. You were smitten.

Suddenly, the stairs creaked underneath your feet, they all turned and saw you standing there staring at all of them with a nervous smile on your face. Your heart was beating even faster now, heat rushed to your cheeks, and the palms of your hands became very warm.

You remembered you had just gotten out of bed after a long nap so you nervously and absentmindedly started to smooth your hair and adjust your clothes while averting your gaze from Dean to your Henley shirt and jeans.

“Well look who’s awake. C’mere, sweetie, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine.” Said Bobby.

Feeling your knees beginning to shake, you slowly walked over to them, and stopped next to Bobby. Your eyes darted back and forth from Bobby back to the Winchesters as you gave them a slight smile and wave.

“Y/n, these are the Winchesters. That’s John, Dean and Sam. Y/n and her mother are resting here for a couple of days after a vamp hunt.” Bobby stated.

Dean looked a little surprised to know that you were a hunter too but learned quickly after a few hunts together that your mother taught you well. Also, after meeting your mother, she and John went on to have a brief relationship. Sometimes, they left the three of you behind to go off on their own hunts so you got to know Dean and Sam very well.

It was just nice to have friends in a “profession” where you normally worked alone.

You helped them anytime they needed you to and they would do the same for you. The three of you had been through a lot together, losing the only parents you had left, helping them track down the yellow-eyed demon that killed their mother, and trying to help Sam get Dean out of the pit of hell.

As you grew into adults and while on hunts, there were plenty of shared motel rooms, literally being in tight spaces, listening to the water run while he was in the shower, wondering if there were eyes on the other side of the door as you changed clothes…your sexual feelings for Dean were growing stronger too and you had gathered up the courage to maybe finally tell him.

But then it all vanished like air from a popped balloon.

You weren’t there when it happened, you were off on a hunt of your own but Bobby told you about Sam getting locked in the cage with Lucifer. Knowing that Dean must be devastated, you tried to call but there was no answer. And the next time you called, a woman answered which prompted you to quickly hang up.

“I didn’t want this for ya, kid.” Bobby had said, trying to console you.

Fresh sobs escaped from your throat. “Why didn’t he come to me, Bobby?!! He’s my best friend and he went to someone else?! She doesn’t know him like I do! She doesn’t know the life!” You cried.

Bobby was like a father figure to you and he tried, he really did but he didn’t know what to do to try and make it better.

“I know, kiddo. I know.” Bobby said softly. “I got somethin’ to tell ya, though. We need your help.”

Confused by the term “we”, you swiped the tears away from your cheeks and heard the front door open. Sam walked in and they both explained everything that was going on, how they’re purposely leaving Dean out of it because he was happy living a normal life which just made you sad but you agreed to help hunt down a powerful group of djinn that was after the boys for killing one of their own awhile back.

They were closing in on Dean. They stalked him, caused him to hallucinate, see things that weren’t there which is when Sam and Bobby decided to pull Dean back into it and that was when you had to walk away. He was already on your mind all day every day but you couldn’t see him again. It hurt too much, he hurt you too much.

But the brothers were back together again, you were saving people and hunting things by yourself which probably wasn’t a great idea but you’ve hunted alone since your mother’s passing. Now, you’re stuck outside of a shit town and waiting for the best friend you haven’t seen in over two years to come and help you.

What were you going to say to him?

Well, you had about 20 minutes left to try and figure it out.

**********

You could hear the low growl of the Impala and as it grew closer, the growl became a rumble before it stopped completely when Dean turned off the engine. The room was completely quiet; you didn’t have the tv or the radio on as you sat at the kitchen table carefully listening to the drumming of the rain up above you and trying not to wince at the pain in your side from the bullet. Then you heard the signature door squeak as it slammed shut, followed by five loud raps against the motel room door.

“Sweetheart, are you in there? Open up!” Shouted Dean over the rain.

“Sweetheart?” You whispered to yourself. “He has a lot of damn nerve!”

Turning to face the door, you yelled out, “IT’S OPEN!”

Dean stormed through the door.

“Are you nuts?!!” He yelled, coldly.

“Jury’s out on that one, Winchester. Lock the door behind ya, will ya?” You replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He glared at you. “Leavin’ the door unlocked, y/n…seriously, what is wrong with you?!”

You closed your eyes, shrugged and frowned in his direction.

“Alright…show me what happened. I heard your name all over the news…shapeshifter?” Asked Dean.

You nodded and showed him the wound on your back, right on the love handle.

“You sure the bullet didn’t come out?” Dean asked.

“Uh yeah, I think I would have noticed if I had another hole in front, Dean!!” You yelled through gritted teeth.

“Well you don’t have to yell at me! I’m here aren’t I? Actually, I’m surprised you texted me, Sam busy or somethin’?” He asked with a sly smile on his face.

“You know he’s working on something else so don’t play dumb with me Dean Winchester!” You hissed.

He was frustrating you to no end and he’s been there for five minutes.

“Get this bullet out of me now before I bleed out all over this floor!” You said.

Dean pointed toward the bathroom.

“Ok, ok, get in the bathroom, hands on the counter but before you do that, you’re gonna have to inch your pants down a little.” He said.

Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words.

“U-uh…y-you want m-me to do what?”

“Just inch them down a little bit; they’re just gonna be in the way if you leave them in place.” He said.

Dean set up everything he needed to extract the bullet on the counter. The only anesthetic he had with him was alcohol which took away only a fraction of the pain whether you were drinking it or pouring it on the wound.

The look on your face could have scalded paint off of the walls and your voice was tight with anger as you weaved a web of profanities so obscene, you would have probably made a sailor blush. Dean had finally managed to get the bullet out intact, stop the bleeding, and put a bandage on the wound.

“Thank you.” You said sheepishly as if you didn’t just spend an hour cursing his very existence.

Another sly smile stretched across his lips as he finally replied, “You’re welcome, sweetheart. You have some sweats or somethin’? Jeans are gonna be too harsh to rub against the wound.”

You did have some in your bag that was on one of the beds.

“They’re in my bag. I’ll get them.” You said starting to walk out of the bathroom.

He held his hands out in front of you, “Whoa, no…I’ll get them, just stay right here.” He said.

With your hand resting on the counter, you tried to take the weight off of your left side while Dean ran out to the other room to get your sweatpants. The bullet wound was really quite painful.

He set the sweats on the counter, inched closer to you and reached for the waistband of your jeans.

“Hey, hey…what are you doin’? I can do it myself, ya know.” You said in a scolding tone.

He folded his arms across his chest and with narrowed eyes, and asked with a smirk “Oh really? Ok, well I’ll be right on the other side of that door. Call me when you need my help because you will.”

He tapped you gently on the nose.

Scoffing at him, you tried your best to get your jeans off and put your sweatpants on but the pain was just too much. You were definitely going to need his help.

Softly, you called out to him.

“Deeeeeean?”

You could feel him smiling on the other side of the door.

“Yessssssss? You need some help in there or somethin’?” He asked in a semi-taunting voice.

Deflated, you replied, “Yes please.”

Dean slowly opened the door with a wide smile on his face, walked toward you and once again reached for the waistband on your jeans. Gently, he inched them down your thighs, all the way to your ankles before he had you rest your hands on his shoulders so he could take them off completely. If he only knew what this was doing to you.

He was eye level with your core, looking up at you through his long lashes with those beautiful green eyes of his and all you could think about was what it would be like to have his face buried in between your thighs, tasting you, and tongue fucking you until you see stars.

“I still can’t believe you fight monsters in a thong.” He chuckled.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you replied, “Oh my god, not the time! This is SO not the time for that!”

He laughed at you again as he gently pulled the sweatpants up, being careful not to touch your bullet wound, until he was gazing down at you fondly with a slight smirk on his face.

“Come on. I’ll help you to the bed.” He said.

After easing you down onto the bed, Dean started to gather everything he brought inside with him to bring out to the car.

You caught yourself staring at him. Actually, it was more like staring AND clenching. You’ve been in love with Dean Winchester since you were 12 years old and he’s never even tried to kiss you but you’ve wanted him to every single time you have been in the same room with him. He was all you had ever wanted.

As he continued to gather his things and clean up, you finally asked him with a hitch in your voice, “Why?”

“Why what, y/n?” He replied, still shoving things into his bag.

Tears stung the back of your eyes as you answered.

“Why did you go to her and not me after Sam went into the cage?! WHY?!” You asked. “I thought we were best friends, Dean!”

Stunned, Dean knew you weren’t going to let him leave without giving you an answer but the dejected look on his face told you he knew he made a huge mistake cutting you out like he did.

“I-I don’t know, y/n. I really don’t know. I got in the car and I started to dial your number but I stopped myself because I didn’t want you to see me like that! I didn’t want you to see me broken and hollow, ok?!” He said.

“So you went to someone who doesn’t even know you like I do? Doesn’t know the life? Doesn’t know that this life took the people that we loved the most in this world away from us?!! What kind of comfort could she have been to you?!!” You yelled. “Oh wait, nevermind. I actually know the answer to that one.”

“HEY! That is NOT fair!” Dean growled back.

“Oh you wanna talk about fair?! I called, texted, called again…one of those times, SHE answered your phone and I gave up after that. But you didn’t bother to call me back, EVER!! How fuckin’ fair is that, Dean?!” You sobbed with tears streaking down your cheeks.

You could see it in his eyes how angry and hurt he was. Dean’s lips were pulled tight in a straight line and the muscles in his forearms immediately tensed before tightly clenching his fists. He was trying his hardest not to snap back like you knew he wanted to.

Dean then shakily placed his hands on the back of a kitchen chair, leaned forward, and stared down at the floor for a minute before bringing his gaze back up to you.

“Look y/n, I guess I went to Lisa to feel better about myself knowing that I could protect her and Ben, to make up for not being able to protect Sam. You’ve never needed me to protect you, even when we were kids so I just went to them instead where I knew I could be of some use.” Said Dean.

Fighting back your tears but failing miserably, you replied, “When have you ever not been useful, Dean? All I wanted was to comfort my friend, my BEST friend, help you figure out how to get Sam out of the cage…something! But you didn’t give me that chance, did you.”

With his eyes shut tight, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a low growl. You knew the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you but it was too late for that. Over two years had passed since you had seen him last but not a day had gone by where you didn’t think of him, miss him, or not love him. You thought maybe those feelings for Dean would eventually go away, but they never did and they never will.

You were young and it was a childhood crush, it should have gone away but those feelings for him just became stronger as the years passed so when Bobby told you Dean was with someone else it felt as though someone was crushing your heart inside your chest.

That dull ache would never go away and it became a sharp pain as soon as he barged into your room tonight. Seeing him again brought all of those feelings back to the surface, made your entire body tingle, and you wanted him more now than ever before.

The only people that knew your true feelings for Dean were Bobby and your mother. She knew from the minute she met the Winchesters that you had eyes for Dean.

Bobby only found out after he told you about Lisa but you made him promise not to say anything which he had kept tight to his chest until his passing. But you were unsure if Dean had any idea about your feelings for him.

“When have you ever NEEDED my help, y/n?!” Dean asked in a raised tone.

You replied, “NEEDED? Never, I’ve never NEEDED your help or anyone else’s help but I’ll always WANT it! I’ll always want…”

A lump formed in your throat as you finished your sentence.

“You…I’ll always want you, Dean.” You said with trembling lips.

“Say that again.” Said Dean.

Your heart lurched into your throat as you tried to get your words out again. With a deep inhale and a forceful exhale, you told him again.

“I always want you, Dean. I always have.” You finally said.

You could practically see the words bouncing around inside his head like in a pinball machine.

“This is gonna sound really cheesy but I’m tipsy from those shots of whiskey so here goes nothin’…I have never wanted, nor will I ever want, anyone else except you, Dean Winchester. I’ve been in love with you since I was 12 years old, no matter how many times I’ve tried to push it away, no matter how many times I told myself it was ‘just a crush’, and I even told myself that you’d probably never love me back. I still love you!” You said with conviction through tears and a slight nervous chuckle.

“Son of a bitch…I need to sit down.” He said, pressing his palm to his forehead and planting himself in one of the kitchen chairs.

You started to get up off of the bed.

“Lemme get you some wa—“ You started to say.

Dean held out his hand to stop you.

“No! Don’t you dare get up. You’re the one with the bullet wound and I’m just a clueless asshat apparently.” He said.

That made you laugh.

Cutting through the awkward silence, Dean said, “I really can’t explain what it was, what I felt but something happened to me every time I saw you smile, every time you laughed, or hugged me, and even when you poked fun at me. I knew that I never wanted to NOT hear your voice, feel the extra squeeze at the end of your hugs, or see your eyes light up when I walk through the door. Even when you’re pissed at me like earlier tonight, your eyes never lie, you’re STILL happy to see me.”

“Dean…” You started to say but he cut you off again.

“I think that’s why I could never really be in love with Lisa because I was already in love with…you.” Dean said in a low gravelly tone.

His words made your stomach drop, those words that you never thought you would hear other than the love you shared between friends, but he was in love with you too which made your heart soar.

You wanted to go to him so you tried to stand up but again he stopped you.

“Whoa! What did I tell you about getting up, huh? Just stay there. Now what do you need? I’ll get it.” He asked.

“I need you to kiss me, Dean.” You replied in barely more than a whisper.

He stood up, slowly walked over to the bed and gently helped you up to standing.

“You ok?” He asked softly.

You nodded as he titled your chin up so you were looking up into his green eyes. With his hands cupping your cheeks, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. Dean’s tongue swept your lower lip before parting them and pressing it against your teeth wanting desperately to tangle with yours.

He pulled you flush against him as your arms snaked around his neck and he continued to kiss you hungrily while the ache between your thighs felt like it was going to explode.

Great…what a time to be wounded and in pain.

Dean loved to hear his name fall from your lips over and over again as he kissed up and down your neck and you loved to say it like a favorite song you had memorized all of the words to. You let your fingers glide through his hair as his lips collided with yours again and he whispered again and again how beautiful you were.

You always wondered what this would be like, to have his lips on yours, his calloused hands touching your body, caressing your face, telling you that he loved you and it was everything you hoped it would be; it was the best kiss of your life.

He accidentally got too close to your wound as he moved his hand to your lower back.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You said wincing in pain.

He apologized profusely.

“Oooh shit! I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…for everything.” He said as he gently brushed your cheeks with his knuckles.

You gave him a warm smile and replied, “It’s ok, I still love you, Dean.”

He kissed you again, his lips were soft and tasted like dark roast coffee; you never wanted him to stop.

“Still?” He asked with a wink.

You winked back. “Still.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He said, kissing the tip of your nose. “I always will.”

“Always?” You asked, biting back a smile.

Dean licked his lips before kissing you again.

“Always.” He said with a sly smile. “I’m taking you back to the bunker with me and when you’re all healed up? Plan on not leaving my room for at least a couple of days. I’m gonna show you how much I love you, over and over, and over again.” He purred in your ear.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you felt delightful sparks run down your back, and choked on the lump in your throat.

“Well…until then, can you just kiss me over and over and over again?” You asked.

He replied with a warm smile, “I think I can do that, baby.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @vaguekayla @stoneyggirl2

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @deans-spinster-witch @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #supernatural

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sunshine-theseus · 6 months

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warning: heartbreak high season2 spoilers

i thought while i'm making my comeback i'll talk about a bunch of different shit like chelsea games and the way sharn freier is literally a star girl and now she's not my team's secret anymore.

BUT the 2nd season of Heartbreak High (if you are or aren't australian, please watch it. it's so good. it's on netflix) came out yesterday and i've already finished it and i have so many thoughts.

first off how the fuck did rowan manage to bag malakai and amery of all people. i'm sorry but this motherfucker rocks up in term 2, a new kid, dressed like dean winchester with the hair of sam winchester and 2 of the hottest people at Hartley, who were a couple mind you, fall in love with him. i have to congratulate the writers on actually understanding what a love triangle is though; instead of making it a love... line? also i took a complete stab in the dark about him hallucinating his brother not long into watching it and i was right :D

BI MALAKAI YOU WILL CATCH ME SOBBING IN THE CORNER I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

this may be hot take, but i can't stand the way darren can't take accountability for their actions. they absolutely came for quinni's throat when she expressed her feelings and told her that the world can't revolve around her and accommodate all her needs... the world can't always accommodate quinni... a queer, autistic woman... and then they don't even actually apologise for what they said to her? and then they seek out an old hook up to have sex when cash comes back from the last "mission" with chook. should cash have done it without telling them? no. was it the right thing to do? no. but going to hook up with someone WHEN YOU'RE STILL IN A RELATIONSHIP?? and then calling it drama?? fucking wild idk

i don't know how i feel about the spider redemption arc they tried to do, but fucking hell did voss piss me the fuck off. dude shut the fuck up, if you want to be taken seriously maybe don't wear a lycra body suit to work. i can't be mad about spider trying to be a better person but i don't like that they made him take a fucking huge jump back when missy said it wasn't going to work, or that the reason he was like that was because he had a hyper-feminist mum. she was horrendous trying to use missy to try and "fix him" and missy ate calling that artwork out for being fake. speaking of, missy is so strong minded, why the fuck did they make her fold for sasha's "people like him can't change" spiel, didn't even think, instantly agreed. sasha was so annoying

i kind of wish harper didn't drop the case, but i think it was something that took a lot of courage. the way woodsy taught her to drive and was so excited when she passed the test - tears were shed. i like harper and ant together i think? but i kind of wish they let it play out longer (this is me assuming there will be a third season)

uhh i can't think of much else, feel free to add.

#heartbreak high #hartley high #malakai mitchell #amerie wadia #woso

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luna-writes-stuff · 11 months

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As Long As It’s Not About Love, Dean Winchester

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Fluff

Word count: 2141

Tw: Brief mentions of injuries/blood, spoilers for all SPN seasons, you get a dog (no excuses). Dean struggles to say ‘I love you’. Some pining, but it’s all resolved. This was written in an hour and you can tell.

Summary: The three times Dean wants to say the L-word, but he can’t. And the one time he does.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“From the first time we touched with our eyes Only magic could take away my heart. I am always afraid for my heart.”

For as long as you’d known Dean, you knew he could never say the L-word. You had known this when you became friends and you had known this when you became a couple. It never seemed to bother you. Friends around you had thrown it around like a casual thing, but Dean seemed to attach more meaning than most to that word. He never outwardly discussed it with you, but you knew it bothered him at times. It never bothered you, though. No matter how long the two of you had been dating, you found peace with his reluctance.

Dean, however, did not. He loved you - he knew he did, which was exactly why it bothered him so much. If his feelings told him one thing, but his mouth couldn’t voice it, where would that leave him?

He had tried to tell you. Many, many times. But there was always something, or someone that would interfere. More often than not, that was his own conscious.

“So lay beside me now and tell me lies, sweet lies. As long as it's not about love.”

The first time he almost said it, had been a sheer moment of fear. Hunting halfgods sometimes appeared to be more challenging than you were originally led to believe. He and Sam had sprung the perfect trap: you and Dean would serve as easy bait as Sam would try to sneak from behind. But plans always worked better in theory.

The god had been aware of your scheme, and had set his very own trap, leaving Sam unconscious on the floor the second he had opened the back door. Neither you nor Dean had enough time to react before you were both on the floor.

When you awoke, all three of you had been tied to a chair, your wrists bound tightly together, almost restricting the blood flow. Dean remembered all too well how he had felt that day. The halfgod had loomed over your figure, taunting and threatening you, almost enjoying the way the Winchesters reacted.

From the back of your chair, you managed to clumsily reach Dean’s hand, clinging to it tightly. When he felt it shake within his own, he would have whispered any words to comfort you, but there hadn’t been much else he could besides show the same stone cold expression, not daring to let the god know he had been pushing all the right buttons.

“Shall we sail off the edge of the world? Fall forever and never look behind. But I must keep my heart from my mind.”

It was when you finally returned to the motel after slaying him, that reality began to dawn upon him. You had been frightened that day - mortified. And there was nothing either of you could do besides watching it happen.

When it took you longer than usual to get out of the bathroom, he had entered the room and found you upon the floor, your head in your hands as you silently wept out all the left-over stress. He had sat down on the floor beside you, not saying anything. His arms wrapped around you as he forced you into his hold, his embrace grounding you as you found yourself slowly coming back down to Earth.

The blood on his shirt was a rude interruption to your eyes. Where calmness had finally begun to settle in, you now found yourself reliving it again. Your sobs grew harder again as Dean began to gently shush you, his fingers tracing figures on your back.

Mumbles of desperation escaped you without full context, and - though he had no idea what you were saying - Dean knew you were trying to make everything make sense in your head. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” He muttered into your hair. “I…” His breath hitched slightly, a dawning feeling settling in his stomach.

He couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Lay beside me now and tell me lies. As long as it's not about love.”

The second time was after Dean came back from the post-apocalyptic dimension. You had stayed behind with Rowena, watching over Lucifer. Rowena had insisted she didn’t need the help, but Dean would rather have you safe in the bunker than possibly stuck in a world where angels ran haywire.

When Lucifer had shown up on the other side of the portal, his blood had almost run cold. First, he lost Sam - who eventually came back -, then Lucifer would be terrorising Jack, and to top it all off, the devil loved to boast about how terrified you were of him.

In truth, you had kept yourself standing for quite a while. You had almost gained his respect for it. But you were still a mortal, and you stood no chance against an archangel. Not even a fallen, half-fuelled one. Not when he was pissed.

Rowena had cast him out before he could deal any severe damage, so the words he had spoken to Dean had been nowhere close to the truth. He hadn’t gutted you, tortured you or put your head on a spike. Dean hadn’t truly believed all of his words either, but they chilled him to his core nonetheless. There was no easy way to check up on you; nothing would soothe him but perhaps his own mind. And it caused a terrible distraction to him in the whole escaping plan.

“Oh, the last time we touched with our eyes And the magic was stronger than the heart. Oh, I can't run away with my heart.”

When Dean finally resurfaced, he was met with your bloodied face, a hasty plaster just beneath your left eye. Confusion was evident on your face, but he dismissed it. The people behind him could be introduced later.

His bag immediately fell to the floor, a heavy sigh escaping him as he walked towards you in three long strides. His arms wrapped around you tightly, squeezing your back as his head fell in the crook of your neck.

“You’re safe,” He uttered, swallowing down the urge to let out a choked cry. “You’re alright.” His hands rose to your cheeks as you parted, his eyes staring into yours with relief. A comforting kiss was placed upon your lips as he revelled in the feeling of your warm hands covering his. You were alive - you were well.

“I…” Again, that dreadful feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. Your eyes showed empathy; you knew. He didn’t have to say it. He wanted to. He just couldn’t.

“I missed you so much.”

“So lay beside me now and tell me lies. As long as they're not about love.”

The third time was during Chuck’s impending doom situation. Worlds had already been destroyed, and you knew it was just a waiting game now until yours would be next. You had lived through apocalypses, dimensions and times, but impending doom had been your worst experience thus far. There was nothing you could do to stop it. Sam and Dean were adamant and stubborn, always ready to fight, but even now they began to see that perhaps, this truly had been the end.

“So, what’s next?” Sam sighed, multiple papers strewn on the table in front of him. You and Dean sat on the other side of him, a bored expression on both of your faces. “I hate to be the one to say this,” You sighed. “But I think acceptance is really all there is now.”

You felt Dean’s eyes turn to you. “Really?” “Yes, really, Dean.” You clarified. “We’re fighting God. We can’t win that one.” “We can’t just give up.” “Then, what do you suggest we do?” You shouted, all pent up frustration suddenly tumbling out. “Bring him a gift basket with a note ‘please, don’t kill us’? Maybe he’ll show some sympathy!” You rose from your seat, the chair falling on the floor behind you with your movement. “We’re going to die! The sooner we accept that, the better! Makes it a lot easier.” Though the last part was mumbled, you were sure the guys heard it too. You didn’t want them to respond to it. You turned around, heading out the library towards your room.

“Sweetheart, come on!” Dean called after you, also rising from his seat, but you had already disappeared. Sam cast him an apologetic glance. “Ah, save it.” His brother groaned, taking off after you.

“Shall we sail off the edge of the world Fall forever.”

A soft knock was heard on the door before the knob slowly turned. “Sweetheart?” “Leave it, Dean.” You groaned, curled up on the bed, which you had almost forgotten you shared. “No,” He answered, before the door closed. A moment of silence fell over the room before the bed slightly dipped behind you. A hand gently made its way to your shoulder, placing comfort there.

“How do you find any solace in all of this?” You muttered, hugging a pillow closer to you. “I don’t.” He answered honestly. “But we can’t afford to stop fighting. If I did, I would have been dead ten years ago.” “You were dead ten years ago.” You countered. A chuckle escaped him at your remark. You turned your head at the sound, showing him a faint smile.

“We’ll keep fighting,” He returned, his voice equally hushed. “Until we fall down. We don’t stop fighting until we stop breathing.” His hand lowered over your arm, finding your hand instead. As his fingers intertwined with yours, he gave you a pleading look: “Please, don’t stop fighting. If we can get five more days, I’d like to spend them with you.”

You let out a low scoff at that. Not in annoyance, but in agreement. You brought your hands up to your mouth, placing a light kiss on the back of Dean’s hand. “I love you, Dean.” You whispered against it, your eyes looking up to look into his. “You don’t have to say it back.”

“Take my heart away but, no You can't say words about love.”

When he finally managed to say it, he didn’t even think of it. Where he had once tried to find proper words for every situation, he had now come to accept things as they were.

When Jack had brought everything back, you and Dean decided to take off on your own. Sam wanted to leave the hunting life behind, and after everything the three of you had been through, you completely understood him. And to your surprise, so had Dean. Both of you had settled into a typical white fence house, the occasional demon traps hidden under doormats and salt lining every window. But besides that, you seemed to have found somewhat of a normal life.

Much to Dean’s demand, you had gotten a dog, caring for it as if it had been a child. Walks were always shared together, a great way for both of you to get some exercise without having to hunt everything that hadn’t seemed relatively normal.

“If the magic comes between us And we never meet again. Take a part of me away.”

And that was exactly how he had found himself in that situation. On a bench in a dog park, sitting directly next to you, your head on his shoulder. He never thought he’d find himself enjoying a simple life, but there he sat, watching his dog run with the others while both of you sat in blissful peace.

“I was thinking of going to that new steakhouse downtown tonight.” You mumbled, a faint smile on your face as you felt Dean’s shoulders shift slightly with his laughter. “Bought some pie for when we get home afterwards.”

“That sounds amazing,” He groaned. “Good,” You laughed, looking up at him. “Because I already made the reservation.” A fond smile crossed his face as he leaned his head against yours.

“God, I love you.”

Your body tensed simultaneously with his as his words were spoken. Lifting your head, you gave him a surprised look, unable to suppress the grin growing on your face. Dean copied your look, a low chuckle escaping him as he processed his words.

“I do,” He reassured. “I love you.” You laughed at that, your hands falling around his shoulders as you brought him in for a hug. “I love you.” He repeated between kisses placed on your collarbones. Then, he kept you at arms distance, unable to deny a second laugh. A firm kiss was placed upon your lips - one you gleefully returned. “I love you.” He spoke again, placing a second kiss on your forehead.

“God, I love you too, Dean Winchester.”

“'Cause maybe it's all about love, love.”

#november writings 2023 #spn #supernatural #dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Jensen ackles

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peachhcs · 5 months

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for the celly prompt 12 is so samy and will now that the season is over and it’s getting closer to the semester ending i think that sam would drag will into the kitchen and they would just dance and soak up life with eachother

dancing like nobody's watching

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will blurb)

finals always makes everyone stressed, so samy drags some of her friends to the lake house for a weekend getaway.

0.9k words

i'm beginning to write all of the requests sent in for the 700 followers celly, so thank you again for everyone requesting things! i may be a little slow with getting them out, so bare with me. please feel free to keep requesting as i roll the fics out for everyone you wanted to see though! it means a lot to me :)

700 celly masterlist | au masterlist

there were perks about having older brothers who owned their own lake house that loved their little sister so much that they let her crash in it for the weekend. classes were winding down, but that meant finals were quickly approaching. what better way to take some time off studying other than driving an hour north for the weekend?

when samy went to jack with the proposal he told her two things: “no parties and no having sex with your boyfriend anywhere but your room.” once they agreed on those two things, he placed the keys to the house in her hand with a smile. he enjoyed seeing his little sister do things he wished he could’ve done when he was her age, so agreeing to let her stay in the lake house for the weekend wasn’t a hard decision.

“i can’t believe we’re already done with freshman year,” hannah commented as she helped samy unpack some food in the kitchen. the boys already rushed towards the dock, wanting to get the first dip in.

“me neither. feels like yesterday we just started. i’m excited for summer though, i think it’s gonna be a good ome,” the brunette smiled when she saw will, moldy, and luca running back towards the house, soaking wet from the lake.

the door burst open and will went straight for samy. he trapped her in his arms, shaking his wet hair out on her like a dog. “will!” samy exclaimed, trying to escape his grasp.

nick and luca did the same to hannah leaving both girls struggling to run away from the boys. “you love me anyway,” will hummed with a kiss against samy’s temple.

“maybe not anymore. go shower off or something, you smell like the lake,” the girl ducked out of his arms earning a playful eye roll from the blonde.

“come with me?” will dared to say in front of everyone else. luca and nick whistled while samy’s own face flushed.

“been here for twenty minutes and the couple’s already going at each other,” nick teased, roughing up will’s shoulder. he had a mix of pride and embarrassment washed into his features.

“you’re so annoying. go get clean. all of you,” the brunette eyed all three boys, her harsher tone finally settling them down. nick saluted.

“yes, ma’am.”

the three of them disappeared into different bathrooms. samy rolled her eyes, spinning back to hannah who was a fit of giggles. “god, i can’t wait for summer when everyone’s here,” the girl hummed.

—

later that night, will helped samy in the kitchen making dinner. soft hums of the speaker drifted through the room along with luca, nick, and hannah trying to play a game of uno in the other room. the couple worked in comfortable silence beside one another—will cutting up the vegetables that samy added to the soup she was trying to make.

he’d steal glances at her every so often when she wasn’t looking just to look at her. her curls fell down her back, frizzing at the ends from the spring heat. one of his boston college t-shirts hung loosely at her hips, probably one she stole from him when she visited last. somehow, he lost more shirts every time she came to visit, so he knew she most likely had a collection of them back in her dorm.

“you should’ve come to boston with how many shirts of mine you have,” will teased a bit, poking her side.

“don’t worry, i have about twenty more back at umich,” the girl giggled. she dumped the last of the cut up veggies into the pot and placed the lid on so the soup could cook for a bit. will watched as she rinsed the dishes off before plopping them into the dishwasher. his eyes never left her figure, so when samy found his gaze again, she was surprised when he was already looking at her.

“what? do i look bad or something?” samy raised her eyebrow.

the blonde quickly shook his head, moving to snake his hands around samy’s waist, “no, not at all. just admiring you.”

his words earned a blush across samy’s cheeks as she pressed her cheek into his chest. they stood like that for a second until the song changed and sounds of the backseat lovers’ voices drifted through the speakers singing kirby girl. samy’s eyes lit up hearing her favorite summer song playing.

“i overhead that she was 19. got a fake a id and a nose ring. those kind of girls tend to know things better than i do,” samy and will quickly sung along.

as the beat picked up, will spun samy around before pulling her back into his chest. they swayed to the song, singing along to the lyrics together with big smiles on their faces. hearing these songs along with the warmer days meant summer was so soon and so was being able to spend an entire three months together. freshman year was fun, but the two couldn’t wait until they weren’t separated by states and nightly facetime calls turned into falling asleep in each other’s arms.

the next song was another one of samy’s favorites that she played nonstop during the summer. declan mckenna always knew how to make the best summer songs. the guitar riff got the two excited as samy spun will around the kitchen.

“i heard you sold the amazon to show the country that you’re from,” the brunette began.

her and will started jumping when the chorus started. their commotion caused the other three to go investigate and samy quickly urged them to join. soon all five of them were jumping around the kitchen—the idea of finals and the end of the school year far from their minds while screaming declan’s song at the top of their lungs because that was the only thing that mattered in the moment.

#will smith hockey #hughes!sister x will smith au #samy x will #boston college #boston college hockey #umich hockey #samy hughes #uofmichigan #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #bc eagles #umich wolverines #will smith hockey fluff #peachhcs 700 celly!

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orchideous-nox · 1 month

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I love your stuff so much!! I was wondering if maybe you had some headcanons for some of the girls?? I'd love to hear them :3

Hi anon, thank you so much! This is so fun, I want to yap about the girls more often so I guess this is a good starting point!!!

Lily

I love Lily so much, since dying my hair ginger one of my favourite comments I get on tiktok is people saying I look like how they picture Lily which is the biggest compliment. I hc Lily as being bi and currently my favourite person to ship her with is Pandora but I have Chappell Roan related plans to write a one-shot of MaryLily. Lily's favourite flowers are daisies and angel's breath and you can find them in her hair during the summer. She loves to read either by the fire when it's cold or under a tree in the park in July. She's an omnivert and enjoys quiet study sessions with Remus where they don't have to talk but also is very happy to be dragged up to do karaoke with Mary and Marlene. Her favourite colour is sage green because it brings out her freckles and her favourite season is spring because she says "the air just smells different". Also plus-size Lily all the way!

Mary

Mary is a girl's girl. She is the one who teaches the younger students how to do their makeup and and is the chief hair braider. She has a diary the whole way through school and she writes all of her juiciest secrets in there because she knows all the gossip about everyone and keeps them all in the bottom of her trunk. Her favourite song would either be Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac or Does Your Mother Know by ABBA. She is the biggest flirt with everybody and the real Casanova of Gryffindor Tower. Her signature lip gloss is cherry scented and everyone is the group has had at least one kiss on the cheek from her which has left a pinky-red lip gloss mark there. If I was going to assign a fc for her it would be Rachel Chinouriri, I think she's so beautiful and the Mary vibes are just there.

Marlene

Marlene being from Manchester is so real for me. She grew up supporting Manchester United and went to the matches with her dad. She is the masc lesbian of my dreams (I saw someone who looked like her once and I might have fell a little bit in love) and they own the wolfcut. Marls can be sighted wearing a little top (baby tee/ tight crop top) and big pants (literally the baggiest jeans you have ever seen). When Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis comes on, she is singing the loudest. Marlene never came out, everyone just knew they are gay and when they got their first girlfriend everyone just shrugged and was like "cool". Marlene uses she/they pronouns and will punch anyone in the dick if they are mean to her friends. She absolutely adores Dorcas and is like "my girlfriend" at any opportunity. You can catch Marlene dancing along to Seventeen Going Under by Sam Fender because "he just gets me", she she will insist he is the only man she could ever love just to annoy the Marauders boys.

Pandora

My Ravenclaw girliiieeee!! If you couldn't tell, Pandora has really grown on me recently and I am slowly working up to writing a fic where she is in the main ship. Pandora being a Ravenclaw like Luna is so important to me and I hc her as a Rosier and is Evan's twin when I write her, but not the way that people normally write them. Pandora is very adamant that she is her own person and there is more to her than being a twin. She loves her experiments which we know from canon, she would have loved watching How Its Made (the tv show), and was that kid who would take things apart to see how they work. She collects insects like butterflies, moths and beetles and keeps them in a display in her room and has pet stick insects that she loves to freak people out with. Pandora would LOVE Paris Paloma, she's vibing with Labour and Notre Dame and The Fruits. Although I said I love shipping Lily with Pandora, Xenophilius and Pandora (xenodora) have my heart, I love them, they are my favourite straight-presenting queer couple. I think they chose the surname Lovegood when they got married (I hc Xeno as a disowned Malfoy) which I know a few people hc. I could talk about Pandora forever but I will move on.

Dorcas

Last but not least, Dorcas! She's the kind of girl who calls everyone babydoll (Barty loves it). She's such an it-girl and would be the person you see on Instagram posing in front of the houses in Kensington with her iced coffee. Dorcas is taalllll and has legs for days, models should be glad she decided to stick to being the office siren. Her favourite hobbies are judgingly people watching in the window seat of coffee shops, and taming her girlfriend to stop them from trying to fight everyone who looks at the two of them funny. Everyone thinks Dorcas hates them at first (even Marlene who spend months thinking Dorcas was rebuffing her advances), but she just looks at everyone like that, she shows her love by being mean. Dorcas loves to listen to Rina Sawayama, her favourite song is STFU!

I'm just gonna stick with those 5 for now because they're the ones I write in my fics. Thank you for giving me an opportunity to yap about them!!! <3

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gracev0609 · 10 days

Text

Success & Sacrifice

A Josh Kiszka fic for Spooky Season 🎃

A gracev0609/ @lipstickitty collaboration.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, rituals, blood, fictional ancient scripture, dark magic, a hint of possessiveness, mentions of sex, mentions of periods

WC: 5k+

The things we do for love...

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

It wasn’t always like this- the screaming crowds, flashing lights, elaborate stage set up. In the beginning it was just four young boys scared out of their minds, playing in their parents’ garage or for a crowd of less than 20 people in a local bar or similar scene. All the glamour came later, and Josh could say that it didn’t happen overnight, but that would sort of be a lie.

Josh, Jake, Sam, and Danny knew they had something special between the four of them from the time they first started playing music together. Even just jamming, they could feel it in their bones that it was meant to be the four of them. The hard part was going to be convincing everyone else of that, paying their dues to get to where they wanted to be. But it was Jake’s dream, a dream he shared with the younger two, so Josh was determined to play his big brother role wholeheartedly and make it happen.

Jake had been so overwhelmingly excited coming to the other three boys and telling them that they’d booked a few nights at a local bar, sort of a trial period to see how they did. These local spots only held 50 people or so maximum without cramming them in and breaking fire codes, but they had booked them. They knew if they could take these first few crowds by storm, no matter the size of the audience, sooner or later word would travel and more people would come and see them play. With enough packed shows, they could book bigger venues, and just keep growing onward from there.

The boys were so anxious before those first few shows, the excitement and nerves swirling in their stomachs and building up the anticipation. Sam and Danny weren’t even old enough to be in the bar they were playing at, big black X’s on the backs of their hands making it glaringly obvious. They all wished one another good luck before they took their places, knowing all they could do now was play the way they had been and pray that people liked them.

The first night went as well as they could’ve hoped- no one booed, a few of the more intoxicated patrons were loudly singing along to a few of the covers they played. At the end of their set there was some scattered applause, one of the most beautiful sounds they’d ever heard. They thanked the crowd and made their way off of the little makeshift stage back towards the front of the bar. Buzzing with excitement, they thanked the manager for giving them the opportunity and loaded back up in Josh’s car to head back home.

The second night, the boys were expecting a similar response to the first, expecting it to go relatively smoothly once again. Unfortunately, it was the middle of the week so there were less people in the building to begin with and the ones that were there weren’t very enthusiastic. A few people were loudly having conversations over their instruments, a couple people exited the bar altogether and there was no singing along or movement from the remaining crowd. Trying not to be discouraged, they continued to play their hearts out, determined to give them the best show they possibly could. Once again they thanked the crowd, spoke briefly with the manager, and then headed back home, this time with much less excited chatter and banter.

The next morning Josh woke to find his twin already sitting up in his bed, blankly staring out the window, the Michigan foliage just beginning to change hues. His expression was blank, veering on the side solemn.

Pushing his hair back from his face, tangled from sleep,” Are you okay Jake?’

Jake's head turned, his naturally sleepy eyes finding Josh's,” ‘mfine. Jus didn't sleep well.”

Josh stared at the blue checkered flannel comforter still bunched in his lap,”Okay…”

Jake turned his body, facing Josh,” Do you think we can do this? Like really do this? Maybe I should just focus on school instead, try to go to a university like you want to.”

“No! This is your dream Jake! A few shit shows doesn't mean you should give it all up to go be an accountant.”

“I could never be an accountant. Im shit at math.” Jake chuckles.

“You want this right? You want to play music?”

“It's everything I've ever dreamed of, Josh. I want to share my talent with the world, create music that speaks to people.”

“Then it'll happen! No one can deny your passion. This is your destiny, you were meant to be a rockstar.”

A shy smile crept onto Jake's face,” I hope so. I want this more than I've ever wanted anything.”

“I know it'll happen.”

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

Ever since Jake confided in him that he was unsure about his music an icky feeling settled in his stomach. Jake couldn't give up on his dream so easily, he won't let him. The road to being a successful film director won't be easy, but drive and determination will get you anywhere. Josh decided to drive two towns over to the venue they played at last, ask for another slot, another chance to bring people in the door. He'd beg if he had to. Forty five minutes later he was back in his car feeling smaller than he ever had. The manager said there wasn't enough draw, not enough interest, and not enough liquor sales to bring them back. The rain picked up on the drive back, his car's shoddy heat not enough to warm his bones. He decided to stop at the cafe in town to get a hot beverage, maybe it'll provide the comfort he's searching for. As Josh sat at his table he kept thinking about how defeated his twin looked. He didn't want Jake to go to school and get wrapped up in something that would make him miserable. He had to try, something. Anything. Jake's dream was on the line. Grabbing his to-go cup he sauntered to the bookstore down the street, maybe there was something there that would help him. Perhaps a book on the music business, or music marketing, or hell Booking Gigs for Dummies. Once inside, he shook his shoulders, trying to shake off the cool autumn rain. He could feel his denim jacket soaking the sweater he wore underneath. Gripping his cup tighter he made his way to the business section, he was grasping at straws here. Frowning under the dim lighting in the small town bookstore he didn't see anything that particularly stood out to him as exactly what he was looking for. But to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for. Pulling a few titles that looked like they could hold some useful information, he scanned and scanned.

His tea had since gone cold and frustration was starting to overtake him. He pulled one more book out, something about running a small business, when something else fell out with it. The book was small, but old. Ornate gold symbols decorated the red leather cover. Picking it up he studied the book, the title in a foreign language he didn't understand. His brows furrowed as he felt that uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, something was compelling him to open the book. Flipping through, there were words he didn't understand. Until they suddenly moved and morphed into ones he could understand. Words on the page stuck out to him like bright neon signs. Magic. Devotion. Sacrifice. Success.

Gasping Josh dropped the book, this red leather bound book could contain all of the answers he was looking for. Quickly he shoved it in his jacket pocket, before exiting the store. His feet started to run, carrying him to his car as fast as he could. He needed to study the passages now. Maybe this could help Jake.

Sitting in his car, still in the parking lot, Josh flipped through the pages of the worn leather bound book scanning for anything useful. Finally, midway through the book his gaze landed on the word success in large bold lettering. It looked far more promising than anything else he’d seen so far so he went to the top of the page and began reading. “In order to reap the success that rightfully belongs to you, you must bind your blood to the spell. Through this sacrifice you will find what you desire.”

There wasn’t much else on the page in the way of words but there was a simple illustration below the passage, depicting a man standing at an altar, hand bleeding into the chalice on the altar before him. There were a few different herbs scattered around the altar also, most of which Josh thought he could identify. Though part of him was skeptical, the blind devotion to his brother far outweighed that part and he thought, if it doesn’t work, no harm really done. But if it does… well, he didn’t want to get his hopes up just yet. But he’d come this far after all, he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

Josh gathered all the supplies he’d need for the ritual- the altar, the chalice, a blade to get the blood flowing, the various herbs, the candles, and the red wine. He found a secluded place in the woods where he wouldn’t be disturbed, he needed to complete the ritual without being interrupted or held back. He felt almost desperate in his need to do this.

With the black tablecloth spread out on the ground, Josh placed the altar overtop of it and lit candles all around it, the flickering flames dancing and creating shadows all around him. He carefully placed the herbs where they needed to go then rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. He poured the red wine in the chalice, a little over half way full, then replaced the cork and set the bottle aside. The book sat next to him, his gaze flicking back and forth between the illustration on the page and the altar cloth before him, making sure he had everything in place.

Once he was certain that everything was perfect, Josh took a deep breath to center himself before reaching for the small switchblade. Holding his breath for a moment he made a small slit in the pad of his thumb with the edge of the blade, hissing at the sight of the red beads rolling down its surface. He flipped the knife closed and let it drop to the cloth below him, holding his bleeding hand over the chalice and making a fist, letting his essence flow into it, swirling with the dark red liquid already in the cup. He wasn’t sure just how much blood was necessary so he squeezed as much as he could from the small cut, hoping that was enough to do the trick.

The book didn’t say anything about it, but he figured saying something couldn’t hurt, manifestation and all that. “I want- no, I need- to make this band work for my brother. It’s his dream and I have to make it happen. If I can’t…” he let himself trail off, not sure how to end the thought anyway even if he knew someone was listening.

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

Josh stood from the dinner table, grabbing his plate and putting it in the sink. Family dinner was wrapping up and they were planning on going out to the garage to rehearse their newest material. As Josh turned off the faucet Jake's phone rang in his pocket. He watched as Jake furrowed his brow and fished his cell phone out,” Hello? Yes, this is Jacob Kiszka.”

He watched as his twin chatted with the person on the other end, as the minutes passed Jake's smile grew.

“Yes! Oh my god,yes. Thank you so much for this opportunity. Yup, yup. We'll see you Friday at ten.Yup. Bye!”

Jake snapped his cell phone closed, ending the call, “HEY BOYS!”

Sam and Danny emerged from the living room asking Jake what was wrong.

“Nothing's wrong. Guys… That was Rich. Rich from Lava Records. We just got offered a record deal!”

The two younger men erupted in cheers and a smile spread on Josh's face at the realization. The spell had worked! Jake was getting his dream, if Josh had anything to do with it.

“Josh! We're getting a record deal!!” Jake cheered, wrapping his arms around his twin squeezing him tightly.

In the time between Jake getting the call about the record deal and the day they were supposed to go sign, the call started to feel a little like a dream. Like at any moment they could wake up and it never happened. Despite the boys’ anxieties, Friday rolled around and everyone was getting dressed in their best clothes to go meet with the label. They were all feeling the familiar sensation of nerves swirling through them, but they knew this could be the beginning of something big.

Their parents insisted on going along, wanting to make sure the boys weren’t getting screwed over. When both families’ cars had parked outside the office, everyone piled out and made sure they had everything they needed, nervous good luck wishes exchanged between them all.

The meeting went better than any of them could’ve imagined- the deal they were offered was excellent, especially for four young men just starting out in their careers. Their parents combed through the contracts thoroughly, searching for anything they may need to object to, but came up blank- everything looked good. After they got the go ahead from their families, the boys signed the contract, their grins stretched across their faces so wide it almost hurt.

Once all the paperwork was squared away, the only thing left to do there was discuss next steps. Recording, booking more shows, getting more exposure, interviews, all the basics of what they needed to know and do in order to be successful. They absorbed everything they were hearing like sponges, wanting to ensure they were doing everything right.

Finally, every order of business had been attended to and they were shaking hands and exchanging goodbyes, still riding the high of their excitement all the way back home to Frankenmuth. They had their next few shows and events scheduled and somehow they knew things would be different. These would be their best shows so far, they could feel it.

The boys’ intuition had been spot on, those were in fact the best shows they’d played thus far. Packed shows, the crowd engaging with them, people being excited to hear them play. They couldn’t believe the difference between their first few shows and now, it was like a complete twist of events and they were overjoyed about it. They were just enjoying the moment and hoping their good luck would continue.

After their first show playing under the record label, they were booked for an interview for a local radio station before the following show. They were terrified, never having really spoken in public to that extent before, but it was about the music. They knew they could talk all day long about the music.

That interview got amazing reviews, tons of listeners tuned in to hear and the band was getting some buzz online. They started feeling even more confident that things would work out.

The next show was incredible, possibly even better than the first and they were feeling on top of the world. The next one went pretty well, and the one after that was just okay. Their playing was still where it always was, but the crowd wasn’t as interested as they were before. Josh felt dread in the pit of his stomach, maybe his little ritual wasn’t working anymore.

Josh’s worst fears were confirmed when the next couple interviews they were scheduled for got canceled unexpectedly. Low ratings was the only reason they were given. This definitely wasn’t what he was expecting when he’d performed the ritual. Was this the book’s idea of success? He scoffed at the thought, deciding he was going to get to the bottom of why the hell the spell suddenly wasn’t working. He’d given the blood, damn it, why wasn’t it working?

Later that night Josh found himself back in the same place where he’d performed the ritual, with the altar set up the exact same way. The old leather bound book sat in front of him, splayed open to a random page. Clearing his throat, he began to speak, “What the hell, why isn’t it working? I bound my blood to the spell, that’s what you told me to do!” His voice growing in volume until he was nearly shouting. In any other situation he might feel silly for yelling at a book, but he had a sense that this particular book might in some way hear him and his desperation to save his brother’s band was consuming him.

A sudden gust of wind blowing the trees startled Josh from his speech, a few orange tinged leaves falling to the ground with the force. “Fuck!” He gasped, looking down at the ground and seeing the pages of the book flipping wildly, too fast for human hands to be turning them. Finally it stopped, coming to rest on its intended page.

“You must continue giving the blood for the spell to continue to work. It’s power weakens with time- only more blood will strengthen it.” Josh read the bold print from the page out loud, groaning softly when he realized this wasn’t just a one and done situation.

Knowing this was pretty much going to be his only option if he wanted to save the band right now, Josh decided to accept the fact that he’d have to give more of his blood. What other choice did he have? Begrudgingly he picked up the blade once more, making a bigger cut this time right across his palm, and let his blood flow into the chalice, setting up the offering for whatever beings or spirits were behind making this kind of magic work.

‘Blood magic’, flitted through his brain, allowing himself to briefly ponder the kind of power such a being might possess while he let his blood flow into the wine filled chalice. He thought maybe he didn’t give enough last time, figured that maybe if he gave more each time, he could go longer between rituals and that may be his best bet unless he wanted to do this every few weeks.

When he started to feel a little dizzy, whether from the blood loss or all in his head, Josh made a tight fist and let the blood clot figuring that had to be enough. Closing his eyes he let his chin drop to his chest, trying to center himself but ultimately ended up angry again.

“So I just have to keep doing this forever?!” He shouted, whether it was to no one or someone, something, he didn’t care anymore. This was his shot to make his brother’s dream come true and he’d basically have to exsanguinate himself to do it. His irritation was finally bubbling over, burning hot as he screamed his frustrations to the sky and trees around him. “There’s only so much blood in my body. What the hell am I supposed to do?” By the end of his tirade, he’d run out of steam, still feeling a little weak from losing blood, and let his voice fade out to a mere whisper. A couple frustrated tears slipped down his cheeks and he wiped them away, if this was what was required of him then he’d just have to suck it up and do it, he could make that sacrifice for his twin. He’d already done it once before, what was a few more times?

Another strong gust of wind whipped the trees around, autumn leaves falling all around him.

Lifting his head he saw the pages in the book turning like they had before, finally coming to rest on its desired page in just the same way it had done before.

Rolling his eyes Josh decided to read this page as well. Something obviously wanted him to, even going so far as to physically point it out to him. This page however made a grin stretch wide across his mouth, hope bubbling up inside of him. This could work, this could help him- a spell that would allow him to harness the power of the divine feminine energy, the fertility of a woman, and turn it into his sacrifice.

Letters morphed on the page, swirling and changing until the word Hathor appears on the page. Josh furrows his brow, speaking the name out loud.

Hathor, goddess of music, joy, love, sexuality and femininity. As soon as Josh's eyes reached the word femininity more words appeared on the ancient paper. Instructions on how to celebrate her, to channel her power Josh must reach an altered state of mind on the twentieth day of the month, gather an offering and perform the spell. Double tapping on his phone he checked the date, the Twentieth of October. He needed to do the spell now if he wanted it to work! Pushing himself to his feet he runs down to his parents liquor cabinet, grabbing the bottle of Captain Morgan he makes his way back into his room back to sit in front of his altar. Flicking the screw cap off he took a pull of the spiced amber liquid. A grimace spread on his features, a face of disgust before taking another gulp. One more to power through before he figured his mind was altered enough. His eyes scanned the page to find instructions for the offering, words flashing across the paper, Paint your face with three marks across your skin. One for the father, one for the mother, and one for the child. Josh thought quickly before rifling through their bag of cosmetics they used for shows, grabbing a silver creme eyeshadow stick he marks three dots across his cheek bones. Looking back at the page more words appear, Flow the burgundy wine into the chalice, meld it with your blood. Reaching forward Josh grabs his switchblade placing another open wound onto his palm letting the scarlet drips flow into the chalice. Once the blood stops flowing he looks back to the page, Place chains of silver and gold into the chalice and wear them proudly around your neck as a sign of devotion. Josh's eyes light up as he remembers the silver moon necklace and the gold sun necklace he and his twin received recently. Quickly he grabs them and places them into the dark red liquid. Once more he looks at the page, a spell to speak aloud formed on the page. Josh breathes deeply before speaking, his voice growing more confident word by word,” I offer this sacrifice to the mighty goddess Hathor. I welcome and accept her, I pledge my devotion and humbly ask her to do my bidding. Harness your godly powers to help us succeed and we will worship you with every song and melody we create.”

Josh held his breath for a moment while nothing changed, his anxiety increasing by the second. Finally the page in the book went blank, soon after being replaced with new ones, “I accept your offering, child. I can sense the strength of your devotion. What is it that you desire?”

He gasped, sputtering for his words for a few seconds before recovering, “Oh! Oh my- thank you, Hathor, for the honor of your time and your assistance. I-I need a way to harness the blood of the women around us as well as those who attend our shows to replenish the success spell- but only the blood they would already lose each month, I can’t hurt anyone.” He stumbled over his words just slightly, knowing he was speaking with an actual goddess.

Once again the page was wiped clean before fresh print appeared, “Continue outwardly showing your devotion to me, child, and it is done. Proudly bathe yourselves in the colors of silver and gold and I will know.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks once more, this time happy tears as he knelt before the altar. “Thank you, Hathor. Thank you.” He picked the book up and pressed a kiss to the old, tattered page of the book that had become his saving grace. He watched for a moment to make sure the goddess had nothing more to say before gently closing the book, lovingly clutching it to his chest.

He couldn’t wipe the grin from his face as he cleaned up his mess, knowing things were going to change.

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

Jake pulled his phone from his pocket, a few texts from friends and family wishing him well for the show that was about to start, his eyes flicking to the corner of his screen, in forty minutes. Wandering through the halls behind the stage he made his way to Josh's private dressing room. Without knocking he twists the metal door knob, stepping inside he notices the room bathed in candlelight. Josh's back was to the door, there he was sitting in front of candles, an old bronze chalice and a leather book in his lap. Josh turned at the waist,”Jake? What are you doing in here?”

Gazing at the altar his twin had set up in front of him, the flickering candles, the herbs and crystals and the ancient tattered looking book in his lap and the chalice filled with dark liquid, there was one thing that was glaringly obvious. He was performing a ritual.

"W-what are you doing?" Jake stammered watching Josh's hands move in practiced repetition.

"A ritual obviously, my dear brother." He smiled as the tip of the switchblade poked his thumb.

"W-why? What for?"

Josh's eyebrows furrowed," You wanted success correct? I made it happen. Just needed a little blood sacrifice, the ethical way of course."

Now Jake's eyebrows dipped," What does that mean Josh? You didn't ki-"

"No of course not! I'm not a psychopath," he runs his bloodied thumb around the rim of the chalice on the table," You've surely heard the rumors about the women who come to our show, and their periods."

Josh lifts his eyes from the chalice," That's how I get our blood sacrifice Jake."

“Their periods? How Josh that doesn't make sense!” Jake deadpanned, he barely believed his eyes.

Josh dips his golden sun necklace into the chalice, deep red dripping from the metal,” The ancient text in my lap, and Hathor.”

Josh secures his necklace against his chest, red liquid slowly running down his sternum before absorbing into the black velvet of his jumpsuit.

“Please Josh you've gotta give me more than that.” Jake pleads, a wave of something unnerving washes over him as he watches Josh, so practiced and repetitive. This was something he's done many many times.

“You wanted success so badly, I couldn't let it slip through our fingers! So I sought out otherworldly help. The spell for success needs blood, and after awhile I couldn't supply it all myself. So, I channeled Hathor , a goddess, and she er, manipulates, the women's periods that come to see us. To give us the blood sacrifice you see. I wouldn't hurt anyone.” His smile bright trying to calm Jake's uneasiness.

Just then Josh's door bursts open Sam and Danny barging in, an unlit pre roll in Sam's hand,” Do you guys… wanna .. smoke this. What the fuck is all of this?”

Josh rolls his eyes, thankful that he was able to finish his ritual,” It's a ritual, worship.. an offering all of that stuff.”

Jake furrows his brow his brain fully catching up to the information he was given,” Wait, so how does Hathor do all of this? Hey - is this the reason why you got really into yoni worship and tantric shit that you would not shut up about?”

Josh laughs, a loud gleeful sound,” Too many questions Jake, but I don't really know how she does it, she just does. It's all apart of the spell and the worship- it's why I never take off my jewelry and our tours have been so themed in silver and gold.”

Josh looks around, Jake seems to be absorbing all that he told him and Sam and Danny look confused. Josh opens his mouth to start explaining but Sam cuts him off,” Hey, would I be able to light this off of the candles or would that piss Hathor off?”

Josh motions him to go ahead when Danny speaks up,” So… I don't know about Sam here but I want a recap. Why are you performing a ritual Josh?”

As they pass the joint around the room Josh recounts years past, how he was determined to make Jake's dream come true. How he sacrificed his own dreams to make sure that Jake would succeed. Josh tells him that he is bound to the band, the book, and the spell. It's his deal that he made so he's the one who has to uphold it.

Josh exhales with a cough,” So, that's what you all walked in on. I was finishing my ritual, to keep our success.”

Jake speaks first,” So, you needed a blood sacrifice,”

“The ethical way!” Josh interjects.

“Ethically, so you use their period blood for the sacrifice.”

“Exactly, I mean they bleed every month anyway.”

Danny smirks, choking back a giggle,” What's the harm in making some of them a little early, they ruin their panties at our shows regardless.”

Sam cackles, his loud stoner laugh echoing in the small space, Josh giggles,” Why did you think most of our audience is women?”

Sam scoffs,” I thought it was because they think we're hot!”

Jake runs his hand down his face, still grappling with the new information,” Josh… When you said you had a pre show ritual I thought you meant like meditation not an actual pre show ritual.” Smiling he continues,” You know that the rumors think that it has something to do with me and ‘the way I fuck my guitar’. But it's been you the whole time! Damn, you were really helping my ‘sex god’ image.”

A knock at the door broke them from their game of twenty questions, a muffled “Five minutes boys!” Coming through the door. Tamping our their lit substance they then file out the door when Danny puts his hand on Josh's shoulder,” Wait, you're the reason why it seems like every woman I hook up with after these fucking shows has their period?”

Josh giggles, a bit bashful,” Caught me!”

Danny rolls his eyes,” I'm sending you all of my ‘cleaning fees’ from now on. I've had to pay for a lot of replacement sheets because of you.”

The show was drawing to a close, the first few notes of Farewell for Now ringing out into the stadium. Josh looked out to the crowd, every face with sparkling eyes and a smile a mile wide. Turning his head to the left he found Jake, red sweaty and tired, but the look on his face was priceless, the content smile on his face from completing another incredible show was something else. Deep down Josh knew that everything he had done was worth every bit of the success and sacrifice.

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

Taglist 🎃 @joshsindigostreak @losfacedevil @josh-iamyour-mama @vanfleeter @myownparadise96 @emeraldvanfleet @sanguinebats @lilbitx @kissthesun-gvf @musicislove3389 @kultavalo @iluvjoshkiszka @grassmowersstuff @jazzyfigz @fleetingjake @cheersdannyx2 @lightsofthe-living-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf

I also want to thank you guys! This is our biggest tag list yet and we are so excited! 🧡

#gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #danny gvf #jake gvf #sam gvf #danny wagner #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fanfiction #greta van fleet #greta van spooky season

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timdrakesbussy · 3 months

Note

Do you have a Stardew fic recommendation list?

Oh, sure!

1. Stick Season by laststardrop | (Shane/Harvey) | Rated M

Harvey was two years into medical school when his boyfriend of three years up left him without a proper goodbye. Five year later, he finds him again.

2. No Place Like Home by Ash_Fountain | Multi (mainly Alex/Penny) | Rated E

[…] An AU where Penny buys the abandoned farm in order to build her own life. This fic follows several points of view, allowing for the drama of some of Stardew's younger citizens to unfold.

3. Things We Don’t Mean by maxRebo | (Alex/Sebastian) | Rated E

Sebastian has a complicated life. He’s been pining over his best friend for years and Sam loves him, too… just, not the way he wants. One day he finds some solace at the spa with someone he would never expect. Life doesn’t get less complicated after that.

4. In the Moonlight by UrsulaNoodles | (Emily/Shane) | Rated E

Shane's life has gone to hell, and he spends most of his nights sulking at the Stardrop Saloon, but Emily's positivity and friendship keep him afloat. He never meant to develop feelings for her, and he convinced himself that she didn’t feel the same way, but a night alone in Cindersap Forest has him thinking otherwise.

5. the wilderness farm map raises a lot of questions by eke | Multi (but mainly Shane/Male Farmer and Marlon/Marnie) | Rated M

6. Lighthouse on the Shore by CharalampidisGruber | (Alex/Sebastian) | Rated M

There's a small house in Pelican Town. Like every home in Pelican Town, this house keeps secrets. Tonight is no different when Sebastian shows up drenched on Alex's doorstep needing someone.

7. I Think I Love the Boy Next Door by animeboysruinedmylife | (Haley/Sam) | Rated M

Haley's not being dramatic, but the worst thing that ever happened to her was Sam moving in next door. She could tell from the second she first saw him that he’d be a pain in her ass. That smug little people-pleasing face. Gelled-up hair. Scuffed-up shoes like some kind of wannabe skater boy. She’s always been a good judge of character, even back then, and time has only proven her right.

8. Splinters by BlueberryFarmingForever | (Male Farmer/Others) | Rated T

The actions of a highly indecisive farmer from Robin's point of view.

9. In Your Eyes by Mouse_213 | (Sam/Sebastian) | Rated E

[…] Seb has his secret reasons for disliking Sam. Deeply rooted anger and anxiety whenever he sees Sam’s bright green eyes that Seb can’t even bring himself to tell Abigail about. And it seems like lately, all Sam wants to do is shove his way into Seb’s private, fiercely-protected life and become his friend. What’s he supposed to do now?

10. Things We Don’t Say by maxRebo | (Haley/Abigail) | Rated E

It's no secret that Haley and Abby have never gotten along. When a surprise coupling overlaps their social circles, they're forced to rely on each other for the sake of their best friends, and come to terms with what the tension between them is really all about.

11. on the (re)founding of rome by Sinister_Queer | (Alex/Sebastian) | Rated E

Sebastian remembers, in technicolor detail, the moment he first saw Alex. […] This is a story about falling in love. This is a story about re-building Rome. (Or: a jock and a goth fall in love)

12. i found nowhere (it got to know me) by szemkel | (Sam/Sebastian) | Rated E

The worst part of living in the city wasn’t the smog, the stench of car exhaust or the constant noise of traffic coming in through the opened windows; it wasn’t Sebastian’s current diet, made up mostly by instant noodles and delivery takeaways; it wasn’t the gray, soulless concrete which greeted his eyes wherever he went, either, and it wasn’t the berserk hoards of teenagers wandering about the streets every evening. To put it shortly, the worst part of living in the city wasn’t anything he had been warned about before moving there. The worst part of living in the city was the absence of Sam.

13. Book of Caroline by J_Unlimited | (Caroline/Male Player) | Rated E

For as long as Caroline could remember, she’s lived her life for others. Saddled with an unsatisfying life, she looks to the new farmer for comfort. Will he be the spark that Caroline needs to set herself free?

#han’s answers #stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley fanfic #sdv fanfic

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mamaestapa · 1 year

Text

That’s Our Baby

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•chapter summary: You have your first ultrasound and you share some sweet moments with Joe. As the day ends you make plans to tell your friends (and brother) about the baby

•word count: 3.3k

•warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of morning sickness, crying, LOTS of fluff

series masterlist

————————————————

February 15, 2023

3 months pregnant

About a little less than a month has passed since the AFC championship game. Since then, the off-season has started, meaning you were currently "unemployed". Of course, you still had your job, you just didn't have to go into the stadium or practice fields to work—until OTA’s begin, but you still have a couple months before those.

Since the championship game, you’ve been spending most of your time at home. Your morning sickness has been pretty rough the last couple of weeks, leaving you feeling exhausted. Pair that with the mood swings you were experiencing lately, this first trimester of your pregnancy was tough. It doesn’t help that none of your family members know about it either. You’re trying to hide it from them as long as you can because you know how they’re going to react to the fact that you’re not with the baby daddy. And, you knew your pregnancy was only going to get harder to hide from everyone because what you could shrug off as bloat, has now turned into an obvious baby bump.

You loved that your bump was growing, but you didn't love that you wouldn't be able to hide your pregnancy much longer. You and Joe just weren't ready to share the news with anyone quite yet...

You let out a long sigh as you got out of bed, yawning as you stretched your stiff limbs. You don't like to get up this early during the off-season, you enjoy sleeping in a little too much. However, today was a big day. You have your first OB appointment. You'll get to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time, and if you're lucky, you'll get to see the little guy or girl on an ultrasound. You were feeling a mix of emotions as you thought about your upcoming appointment. Thankfully, you won't be there by yourself though because Joe is coming with you.

He initially told you that he was unsure if he could make it, but last night you received a text from him, asking if you'd be up for "plus one" at your appointment. It warmed your heart knowing that Joe wanted to be there to support you, and see his baby for the first time. Although he was hesitant at the thought of becoming a father at this point in his life, he was starting to come around to the idea of being a father. Joe would never abandon you or his baby. Especially with the history the two of you have, he could never imagine leaving you to go through this by yourself.

You had about an hour and a half before you had to leave for your appointment. You gave yourself plenty of time to shower, get ready, and even enjoy a quick breakfast. Well, at least try to enjoy a quick breakfast.

After your shower, you dried your hair and did some simple make-up. Nothing too extreme, but enough to hide the dark circles and illuminate your best features. You decided on a casual but cute outfit for your appointment. Since it was the middle of winter in Cincinnati, you opted for a pair of leggings and a cream colored sweater that hugged your belly just a little bit.

Once you were satisfied with your appearance, you made your way into the kitchen to make some eggs, a fruit smoothie, and a side of prenatal vitamins. You ate your breakfast in silence, deciding to scroll through Instagram and see what your friends and other NFL WAGS were up to lately. Upon opening the app, you saw that Joe posted on his story You clicked on his profile, and on his story was a picture of him, Sam, Tee, Ja'Marr, and Logan. It was a photo of them from last years training camp, captioned "Throwback Thursday". You couldn't help but chuckle at the caption. You couldn't think of a single person that still uses that phrase.

You looked at the picture, eyes only drawn to Joe. Blame the hormones, but you were feeling a little bold, so you slid up and clicked the '😍' react emoji.

After you finished up your breakfast, you cleaned off your plate, placing it in the dishwasher. You had about ten minutes to kill before you had to leave for your appointment. You decided to go to the living room and relax for a few minutes. You pulled your phone out and sent a text to Joe:

You: Hey. Just wanted to remind you that my appointment is at 11:30 if you're still able to make it. If you need the address again let me know :)

As soon as you set your phone down on the couch beside you, you immediately got a response from Joe. It was almost as if he was waiting for you to text him, that's how quick it was.

Joe: I was actually just about to call you. How about we go together? I'll drive.

Your heart dropped. He wanted to take you? He wanted to go together, not separate? A small smile started to pull at your lips as you typed your response.

You: That would be great. You need my address?

Joe: Nope, I think I remember from a couple months ago ;)

You completely forgot that Joe has been to your apartment before. Plus, one of his closest friends lives in the same complex just a couple doors down from you, so of course he knows where you live.

You: Okay, well if you need me to send it to you just let me know.

Joe: Should be there in about 5. See you soon!

You liked his message as you stood from the couch. You went into your bedroom and grabbed your pair of black boots, along with your North face coat before you went outside to wait for Joe. The weather was actually decent today. There was little snow on the ground and the temperature wasn't the typical bitter cold. You locked the door to your apartment and headed outside. As you left the complex, Joe's car pulled up to the front of the building. You smiled and waved at him as you began to walk up to his car. He returned the wave and smile.

You opened the passenger side door, greeting Joe and thanking him as you sat down and buckled your seatbelt.

"You ready to go?" Joe asked, glancing over at you once he heard the click of your seatbelt. You nodded as you rubbed your clammy hands on your leggings. You were starting to feel a little nervous about your appointment. Every single possible outcome of how this appointment could go was running through your head. "Yeah," you said, your voice wavering slightly, "I'm just a little nervous."

Joe gazed at you with a slight frown, "I am too." However, his frown turned into a soft smile as he finished his thought, "but everything will be fine, I promise." You smiled at his reassurance. Sometimes all you needed to ease your worries was just a little reassurance.

Joe pulled out of your apartment complex and began driving to your OBGYN's office. As he was driving, he kept one hand on the steering wheel, while the other was resting on the glove box. You noticed his eyes drift away from the road multiple times, instead looking at the small bump your abdomen. You caught him looking at you for a third time, a pink hue on Joe's cheeks as he realized he had been caught. You smiled slightly as you spoke softly, "You can touch it, you know." He glanced at you, a small smile on his pink lips. "It's your baby too," you said. Joe hesitantly lifted his hand off of the glove box, letting it hover over your middle for a few moments before he slowly lowered his hand onto your belly. He rubbed the fabric of your sweater with his thumb, feeling the swollen skin of your baby bump beneath his fingertips. "Wow." he couldn't help but breathe out. Joe was amazed at the sight of your small bump.

Joe kept his hand placed on your belly the rest of the short drive to your OB office. Content smiles were on both of your faces as you sat in silence. The action felt foreign to both of you, but as foreign as it was, it felt good--it felt right.

~time skip~

After signing some paperwork at the front desk, you sat back down next to Joe in the chairs in the waiting room. His left leg was nervously bouncing up and down as he looked at the other expecting couples waiting in the office. You rested your hand on his thigh, stopping his movements, "Are you okay?" you asked lowly. Joe just nodded, "I don't ever get nervous..." he glanced over at you as he said, "but I am right now."

You smiled softly at him as you leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath, "Yeah, me too." As you let out the breath, a nurse walked out into the waiting room wearing a bright smile and holding a chart in her hands.

"Y/n Hubbard?" she called, making yours and Joe's head snap up. You looked up at her and smiled softly, "That's me."

"Great!" she exclaimed, smiling warmly, "you can follow me this way."

You and Joe stood up from your seats and followed the nurse down the hall, and into an examination room.

"If you want to sit up here for me, I'll take your vitals." she said, gesturing the examination bed. You sat down on the bed as Joe sat down on the chair right next to it, nervously rubbing his palms over his shorts. As the nurse was taking your vitals and marking them down on your chart, she looked at you with narrowed eyes. "Okay, I just have to know," she stated as she set the blood pressure cuff down on the counter, "are you married to Sam Hubbard?"

Your eyes widened and Joe choked on his breath.

"I'm sorry, what?" you laughed in shock

"Oh are you not? Or.." Her dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "No! God no," your laughter continued. "He's uh, he's my brother."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, growing flustered at her mistake. You smiled at the poor girl, "It's alright, don't worry."

"Are you sure?" she asked, looking at you with concern. You nodded, making her sigh, "God I feel like an idiot."

"You're fine, I promise." you smiled kindly at the dark haired nurse, "I get that a lot, honestly." you said, reassuring her and letting her know you didn't take her mistake personally. She just blushed and awkwardly finished up with your vitals and basic patient information.

"Doctor Montgomery will be here shortly." She said, a blush still on her cheeks.

Joe smiled, "Thank you..." he looked at her ID tag on her scrub top, "Amanda." He said with a wink. The nurse, Amanda blushed crimson once again, "Of course. Congratulations."

As Amanda shut the door and left the exam room. Joe scoffed in disbelief, "She thought Sam was your husband when I'm sitting right here?" You chuckled softly, "I guess so. Maybe she didn't recognize you."

Okay but in all seriousness, who wouldn't recognize the Joe Burrow.

Joe was about to respond when there was a knock at the door before your OB-GYN, Addison Montgomery walked in.

"Hello Y/n," she greeted, smiling warmly, "good to see you again."

You smiled, "Hey, Doctor Montgomery, it's good to see you too." She sat down on the swivel chair net to the examination bed. "So, you're here today for an ultrasound?

"Yes. I meant to come in earlier, but i've been busy with work."

She nodded, "Totally understandable. We've been super backed up here. Seems like everyone has baby fever right now." she turned to Joe, chuckling as she spoke. He just smiled at her, nervously. She held her finger out, pointing at Joe, "Wait, you're Joe Burrow!"

Joe chuckled, slightly cocking his to the side as he replied, "Yup, the one and only."

Your doctor turned to you, winking, "Oh Y/n, you have got yourself one fine baby daddy." You smiled, blushing as you made eye contact with Joe, "Yeah, I do don't I?"

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush making its way onto his cheeks as he looked at you sheepishly.

"So," Doctor Montgomery clapped, "you ready to see your baby you two?"

You grinned happily, looking up at your doctor as you laid back against the bed. Joe stood up and walked over to the side of the bed, pulling the chair he sat in with him. He placed the chair down and sat down next to you.

"Okay Y/n, if you want to pull up your shirt for me, that would be great."

You nodded, pulling up the cream material of your sweater. Doctor Montgomery put the cool gel all across your lower belly, the cool gel making you shiver as soon as it touched your bare skin.

"Sorry," she chuckled, "I forgot to warn you, but the gel is very cold."

"Yes, it is." you nodded, your eyes glued to the screen of the ultrasound machine. you were anxiously waiting to see the baby pop up on the screen.

"Alright here we go." she said, grabbing the probe and moving it around your slightly protruding abdomen. You and Joe watched the green intently, holding your breaths as you watched. Her eyes lit up as she moved the screen around you and Joe could see better.

"That right there," she pointed to a spot on the screen with her bright red manicured finger, "is your baby."

She pressed a button, and a loud, fast whooshing sound broke out in the room. It was your baby's heartbeat. You smiled brightly, looking at the picture in awe. Tears welled up in your eyes. You couldn't believe this was all happening. You looked over at Joe, his expression the same as yours, with his beautiful blues full of unshed tears as he looked at his baby on the ultrasound monitor. Hey glanced at you, grabbing your hand and kissed it before his eyes went back to the screen. Both of you were so overwhelmed with love and all sorts of emotion as you looked at the black and white picture, and heard the loud whooshing of your baby's strong, healthy heartbeat.

"That's our baby..." he said softly in disbelief.

"Yeah, that's our baby." you smiled as a tear rolled down your cheek. Joe gripped your hand tighter, as you did to his.

Doctor Montgomery smiled, "Congratulations you two! You're about nine, almost ten weeks along Y/n. You'll be in your second trimester soon, so hopefully your morning sickness eases up for you."

"Whew," you breathed out, "I sure hope so."

She smiled softly, "It will eventually. Before I go, do you want me to print some pictures?"

You and Joe both nodded, "Yes please, we'd love that." Joe said, eagerly.

The OB chuckled, "Okay." With a click of a button, your ultrasound pictures were printed. She wiped the gel off of your belly, and you sat up, pulling your sweater down.

She handed the pictures to Joe. "Oh! Before I forget, I was actually able to see what the gender of your baby is. Do the two of you want to know that right now?"

You looked at Joe, wanting his answer. He just shook his head.

"No thank you," you smiled, "could you maybe write it down on an envelope though? My friends were talking about throwing us a gender reveal party."

She smiled sweetly, "Yes ma'am! How sweet of them."

You hummed, "I know right? I have the sweetest friends." It's very true, you do have the sweetest friends. Your OB turned around and quickly wrote something down on paper before putting it into an envelope and sealing it. She handed it to you, "There you are. And you, are good to go. Everything looks great. You and the baby are both healthy and looking wonderful."

Joe smiled, "Thank you doc."

Doctor Montgomery nodded, "It's no problem at all. I'll see you in a few weeks. Congratulations again you two!" she walked out of the room, leaving you and Joe alone. You stood up from the table and adjusted your shirt. You turned around and smiled softly as you saw Joe looking down at the ultrasound photo in his hand, his thumb running over the image of his baby.

"It's so tiny," he said softly, his voice in awe, "I can't believe this is growing inside of you right now." You chuckled softly, walking closer to him and looking at the picture with him, "Crazy isn't it?" he just nodded and continued to look at the photo in awe.

The two of you walked out of the doctors office with wide grins on both of your faces. As you made your way into his car, Joe placed one of the ultrasound pictures on his dashboard. It's safe to say the ultrasound today has made Joe 100% on board with the baby now...

"There." he smiled, "perfect."

"Isn't it cute?" you asked, reaching out your hand to trace over the baby's silhouette on the ultrasound.

"It looks just like you already, Y/n." Joe joked as he pulled out of the parking lot. You looked up at him, and shook your head. A teasing smile on your face, "Sure. I think it'll be carbon copy of you, Joseph."

"i'll hold you to it." he smirked, eyes flickering back and forth between your eyes and lips.

As Joe was driving back to your home, your phone rang. You pulled it out and looked to see who it was.

Incoming call: Sam

Your eyes widened as you answered the call. He could not find out you were in the car with Joe...

(Sam)

(You)

"Sam, hey!"

"Hey Y/n, how's it going?"

"Good, how about you?"

"Can't complain. Hey I just wanted to call and ask if you were free next Saturday. A couple of the guys and I are going out for drinks, and I figured I'd invite you."

"Yeah, I'm free. Who's all coming?"

"Me, Tee, Ja'Marr, Joe, Morgan and Logan maybe, and now you."

"Oooh, sounds fun! Where are we meeting?"

"Not sure yet, i'll call and let you know though."

"Okay! Thanks Sam."

"Yep! I'll talk to you later, bye."

"Bye, love you Sammy."

"love you too, Y/n/n. Bye."

You hung up the phone and Joe glanced over at you. "What'd Sam want?" he asked, averting his gaze back to the road.

"We have plans next Saturday with Sam and some of the other guys."

Joe nodded, "Oh, right. I came up with the idea today while we were working out this morning."

"Really?" Your furrowed your brows. Joe usually wasn't one to initiate making plans.

"Yeah, I uh, I thought that would be a good way for us to tell them about the baby." he smiled, putting his hand on your tummy again. You smiled in return, "Thanks for setting that up, Joe"

He looked at you and just nodded as a small smile tugged at his lips. You leaned back in your seat, placing your hand over Joe's. Part of you was worried about telling the guys about your accidental pregnancy, especially Sam. You didn't know how he was going to react to being told he's going to be an uncle...to his best friends baby.

But hey, he has to find out sooner or later right?

hey loves!!

how sweet was this?🥹 dad joe has me feeling all of the feels.

this was all fluff, but the next chapter is a crazy one, so be prepared! not only will sam and the other guys find out about baby burrow…but we’re going to take a look back at yours and joe’s past from OSU👀

thank you so much for your continued love and support with this series and all of my other work! it means so much to me. you’re all so kind and i love each and every one of you!🤍🤍

hope you enjoyed this chapter ;)

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @sirlewisworld @kkrenae @unhingedfangirl @sublimemusic-rebel @meameagirl @ilovejoeburroww @hallecarey1 @j-worlds-blog @blinkloverx3 @jordyn14 @kristencochefski1125 @emherb10

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #daddy issues #dad!joe #joe burrow series

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dreamersbcll · 10 months

Text

Holidaze

let love grow

(the core four friendsgiving we all deserve)

——————————————————————————

“Do you even know how to cook a turkey?”

Sam paused her search for the basting pan -she could’ve sworn she had one- to sigh and roll her eyes. Tara had been second-guessing her decisions since they decided to throw this “Friendsgiving feast” that the twins thought of.

New York was a year ago. They were far away, in a new city, with all their friends nearby. It seemed like a good idea to host a family get-together.

Up until Tara’s sudden culinary degree kicked in.

Her sister frowned. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you know how to cook.”

Snagging the basting dish, Sam pulled back, slamming the counter door shut. “Tara, go get the vegetables out.”

Tara saluted Sam, heading to the fridge. “Sure thing, Chef Ramsey.”

Meanwhile, Sam got lost in her prep haze. She had to clean the turkey, season it, and cut the vegetables. Tara would need to mash the potatoes and make the biscuits from a can. It all had to be done within the next six hours.

Humming, Sam set up the cutting board and grabbed her favorite knife. She almost didn’t notice that Tara had sidled up next to her.

She turned to face Tara, knife in one hand, a head of celery in the other. “What’s up, baby?”

Her little sister shrugged, her eyes fixated on the cutting board. “Can you show me?” she asked in the quietest, most timid voice.

Sam couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. She would do anything for that sweet little girl she knew and loved so well.

Nodding, Sam lined up the vegetables, making room for Tara to stand next to her. “Okay, first, we line 'em all up like this…”

—

Before the two knew it, it was already time for the rest of the group to come. First, Gale arrived, already buzzed, holding bags of chips.

“You really wanted me to cook?” she snarkily said, throwing the chips at a disgruntled Tara.

Sidney came later on, holding a couple of homemade pies. Tara’s eyes lit up with joy at the sight. She was always smitten with a good apple pie. Sam should’ve made one.

Eventually, the twins arrived thirty minutes late, both kids gripping heaping food containers and several bottles of wine. Sam grinned wide at the sight, reaching out to grasp the precarious bottle that dangled in Chad’s hand…

…Only for it to slip and spill all over Sam’s shirt.

The room went silent, the laughter dying out. Everybody froze at the sight of the wine-stained shirt, Sam’s wine-stained shirt.

Without thinking, Sam turned and bolted for the bathroom, Tara following suit.

——-

“Stupid. So fucking stupid,” Sam hissed, dabbing at the wine splotches on her shirt.

It took everything in her not to taste the wine-stained fabric.

Fuck. Her mouth was watering, and her head was cloudy. Did wine always smell that good? Was that Chardonnay? She loved Chardonnay. Maybe just a taste. One lick. She’s done worse for a hit.

But she knows. Oh god, does she know what one dab, line, and drink could do. Down the rabbit hole into the darkness, she barely crawled out alive the last time.

That had just survived New York. She couldn’t do this to the group— especially not her little girl. It would tear them apart. Sam couldn’t survive being the reason that breaks her family.

All over a stupid bottle of spilled wine, all over her shirt.

Once an addict, always an addict.

“It’s just alcohol. Just fruit juice. For adults. It’s not a big deal. Fucking snap out of it, Sam,” she cussed.

But it wouldn’t go away.

“Stop it. Stop fucking thinking of that. Grow up. Grow fucking up!”

“Sam?”

Shit. Tara.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m almost done here—just a spill. Be out in a minute,” Sam called, trying to suppress the anxiety rising within her.

“Let me in.”

That wasn’t a question. It was a command. Without thinking, Sam unlocked the door and let her sister in.

Tara walked in slowly, surveying the bathroom. One look at Sam, and she could tell that Tara knew. Sam’s frantic hair, her wild eyes, her shaking hands— all pointed to an alcoholic freaking out over a spilled drink.

Without saying anything, Tara held out a hand, asking for the wine-soaked rag in Sam’s hand. Sam handed it to her without thinking, afraid of the stoic look on Tara’s face.

As Tara took it, pursing her lips, Sam needed to back down. She was too much. Too raw. She had to reel it in. “It’s fine, it’s just-”

“Let me help you,” Tara said, cutting Sam off before she could continue babbling.

Sam snapped her mouth shut. “Okay.”

Tara hummed, turning on the tap to wet the rag. The two watched the faucet run, the noise of the water filling the buzzing in Sam’s head.

Her little sister started to wash the shirt, her lips in a tight line. “I understand, you know. I told them to keep it away from you. Don’t worry. I’ve got you, too,” Tara whispered.

Bowing her head, Sam conceded. Of course, her little sister knew. She always knew. How could Sam ever forget?

“Thank you, my love.”

Tara paused from wiping off Sam’s shirt, and before Sam could react, she darted forward, kissing Sam’s cheek. Before Sam could say anything, Tara was out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Sam turned back to the mirror, noticing the fresh shirt and bra left on the countertop, neatly folded. Next to it was a garbage bag, the message clear.

Trash the shirt. We can replace it. We can’t replace you.

Who was Sam to argue with her little sister?

——

Once Sam finally exited the bathroom, she found everybody sitting at the dinner table, anxiously awaiting her arrival. Steaming food was strewn across the tabletop, napkins folded neatly on each plate. Soft murmurs of conversation stopped once Sam got to the table, the only sound being the flickering of candles Tara had lit.

Upon seeing Sam’s new outfit, Chad winced, his mouth open comically wide. Apparent panic and remorse were reflected in his eyes, and everyone else around the table looked somber.

He stood up, his hands up in surrender. “Shit, Sam, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking-”

Sam waved him off, calming him down with a small smile. “It’s okay. Let’s just sit down and eat, yeah?”

Chad smiled gratefully, mouthing thank you. Sam just nodded and sat at the head of the table, surveying the people around her. Sidney was at her left, Mindy at her right. Across from her was Tara, looking at Sam with such soft and gentle concern that it made her heart ache.

I love you, she mouthed.

Tara smiled at her, eyes shining. I love you, too.

With her heart now full and her stomach empty, Sam clapped her hands, suddenly excited to eat. “Well, what do healthy families do at dinner?”

“Say grace?” Mindy suggested, clasping her hands together.

Chad nodded enthusiastically while Gale shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt,” the woman remarked, taking another swig of her drink.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, alright. Who wants to do it?”

The group all looked at one another, raising eyebrows and silently asking someone to step up.

“I will,” Tara said, looking at Sam pointedly.

That’s her girl. That’s her Tara.

“Okay, baby. Go ahead,” she softly said, smiling at her girl.

Tara smiled at the name, her dimples popping. Sidney held out a hand for Tara to take, the rest of the group reaching out and clasping hands together. Sam watched her little sister bow her head, everyone else following suit. Only when she saw her little sister close her eyes did Sam also bow her head.

“Well, after all we’ve been through, I’m not sure if there’s a God,” Tara began, pausing for the giggles and murmurs to die down.

“But I do believe in family. And the people around me are the best family I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for them. I love them all, and I would do nothing,”

“That being said, I want to say how thankful I am for my big sister. Sam is the strongest person I’ve ever known, and I believe in her like one would in God. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.”

“Uh, amen?” Chad said.

The group broke apart, giggling and sniffling. Chad reached over to dig into the roast while Mindy started handing out napkins, Sidney and Gale topping off their drinks.

While the table was alive with conversation and movement, all Sam could do was take in the girl across from her in all her glory. Her little girl was something to behold. Such a powerful and beautiful girl she was, with potential that would surely leave a mark on the world in a good way- unlike the Loomis blood that tainted Sam’s reputation.

She wonders if Tara knows how much she loves her and how she would move heaven and earth to make her smile. She would kill again for her little sister.

Instead of moving to dish up food, Tara was doing the same thing, just watching her big sister.

Tara and Sam just watched each other, thousands of words left unsaid in the air.

It didn’t matter. They had each other. That was all that needed to be said.

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #the core four!#AU: protect my heart #soft and somber #found family <3 #scream vi

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gottagobackintime · 1 year

Text

Tedependent (and bi Ted) in season 3 episode 7

We have Ted whistling and being impressed by a man's hair “Look at that head of hair”. Ted and Trent have both talked about Trent's hair before "Because of the hair and the whole vibe?" and Ted's: "You know, they got a big old Ziploc bag full of your hair ties down at the lost and found. You should pop on down, if you still want 'em." As far as I can remember they are the only ones who has ever talked about Trent's hair in the show (correct me if I'm wrong). To compare it to another scene, we have a scene between Roy and Keeley, which is meant to be seen romantically between them where they say this: "Yeah. Woman with the hair." "Keeley Jones, The Independent Woman Magazine." A scene set in the pressroom where most of Ted and Trent's interactions, with a few exceptions, take place during season 1 and 2. She also uses The Independent as a joke about her being independent while still looking to be in a relationship. Which is similar to Trent always introducing himself in the pressroom with "Trent Crimm, The Independent." And Ted and Trent's last scene of season 2: "You know what this makes you now, though, right?" "Trent Crimm. Independent." Hair is also talked about with other couples we're supposed to look at romantically. Roy and Keeley, Higgins and his wife, Sam and Rebecca.

More under the cut:

When Beard is talking about Jane dropping hints and Ted thinks he’s talking about marriage but Beard is talking about pegging and Ted doesn’t seemed shocked or outraged or anything he just “Oh. Well, still.” Ted have been pegged confirmed??? (And then he asks what magazines contains the topic of pegging, just for normal reasons, no big deal). And while pegging can be enjoyed by people of all sexualities, I find it interesting that they brought that up and the "straight man in middle America" isn't at all fazed by that. Not even a double take, just "yup, that's a big commitment", with all the other hints that Ted is not straight... yeah...

“Hey, Trent” “Hello Ted” Now this isn't really evidence, because even non queer people say hello to each other. But I wanted to include it because it's just Ted that acknowledges that Trent is standing there. Beard and Roy doesn't say anything, nor does Trent say anything to them. It's an interesting moment to include, if they hadn't said anything no one would have really noticed. Because you'd just assume that they'd seen each other earlier that day so there is no need to say hello again. But they did include it. It's about Trent being present and Ted noticing it. It's like the scene in the last episode of season 2 when Trent is absent from the pressroom. Ted notices and he stops speaking for a moment while looking worried/confused. Only for him to be happy to see him, even admitting that he was worried he'd been injured. Ted's excitement when he sees Trent in Rebecca's office in season 3 episode 2. We see them talking after the match against West Ham (they could have had him talking to anyone, but he was talking to Trent). It's Trent being the one to notice and the first to acknowledge that something is wrong when Ted gets the text about Henry being in a bullying incident. It's the fact that these two seem to be drawn to each other, seeking each other out and noticing each other.

Ted not knowing what step number four is yet and Trent being obsessed with finding out what number four is. We even get to see his notes about it, something we haven’t seen before. And with Trent's newfound confidence since his talk with Colin, he's being more comfortable around Ted and Ted rewards him with smiling and even a touch to the shoulder (that Trent even reacts to by looking at his shoulder afterwards). Just look at the way he runs after Ted and just gushes over Ted's work as a coach. (Would he have done that pre-Amsterdam, I doubt it.)

Ted talking about people being put in boxes since an early age. (Children are always assumed to be straight and are often told to stay in that box for the rest of their lives). In Sunflowers Colin talks about not wanting to be a spokesperson, he just wants to live his life, to have his two lives combined. But if he were to come out he'd be a spokesperson whether he wants to or not. Because he'd be put in a box, his box would be "gay footballer". What boxes are Ted put into? American? White? Straight? Which one of those boxes are something he could have actually have been forced into? Straight. He may or may not have already realised that it's not a box he fits into. But to have him talk about being put into boxes when we know that he's being looked at as straight by everyone around him, including the TV audience...

Trent asking Ted if he thinks that it's a good idea to use a tactic the boys don't understand and while doing so he's holding his glasses with his little finger out (while we can see the two threads of red on Ted's jacket). Later Ted explains to the team: "In Japanese culture, they have a myth where they believe that all soulmates are connected by an invisible red string. And those strings are attached to each of their little fingers."

"Well, Trent, the way I see it, it's kind of like taking a hike with Robert Frost. It could go either way." That's a very bi thing to say, Ted. Also this poem by Robert Frost: The Road Not Taken: Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

Two roads, coming back to the other one another day, not knowing if you'll come back. Taken a road less traveled and that made all the difference. Pretty queer if you ask me. Especially considering bi people are constantly told to pick one, pick one side and stay there, you're either gay or straight, you can't walk both roads.

Ted feeling the need to express his individuality by growing facial hair. He didn’t go for the beard (because he didn’t want to hide his sexuality aka use a beard because Beard already had that) so he went with a goatee. And then Beard pointed out that he shouldn’t have a goatee right before he was about to walk down the isle (get married to a woman) and instead he went with a moustache. When we think of bisexuality and moustaches, who do we think of? Who do we know that Ted saw perform at Wembley in 1985? "I remember being a little kid, sitting in front of the television and watching Queen perform right over there during Live Aid." Who in Queen famously had a moustache? Freddie Mercury. Freddie Mercury who wrote "Love of my Life" for Mary Austin, his then girlfriend. Freddie who, as we all know later got together with Jim Hutton and they were together until he passed away. Ted has said that he will always love Michelle, because they are still family. He still loves her, but they are no longer together.

Trent running after Ted to excitedly tell him that it's going to work. Telling him how he's noticed what Ted has been doing for three seasons (again, it's about being seen). How he's created a space that is filled with trust and support, something he himself has been the recipient of. Ted has both trusted him (allowing Trent to write a book about the team, having him follow them around even after Trent wrote that article) and supported him (when Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley wanted him to say no to Trent and he said yes anyway, him telling Roy to knock it off with his treatment of Trent, Ted inviting him in to share his ideas).

“Yeah, but he’s our dork.” Ted says smiling fondly. It's about the fondness. Roy is the one who refers to Trent as a dork first, but Ted is the one who turns it into something that is only positive. He's smiling and to him, having Trent be their dork is something that makes him happy. The other two are more like "yeah, I guess he's cool" *shrugs*.

Does this mean that Ted and Trent will get together? No. But I do find it interesting to find all of these small details that connects the two of them. It's the way Trent went from "Is this a fucking joke?" to excitedly telling Ted that "It's going to work!". Ted changed Trent's life, and in a way I believe that Trent changed his. Trent doesn't have a problem asking the hard questions, but he also sees Ted. He can see that Ted is a mess (when it comes to coaching and possibly also on a personal level) and yet he believes in him. He challenges him on his tactics and his way of doing things, but he believes him and the thought of Ted succeeding makes him excited enough to run after him to tell him that he's done something with the team that is going to work. Something he could have told him calmly and in private, but he couldn't wait. He had to tell Ted right at that moment. It's the running through the airport at the end of the movie.

And as for Ted being bi or not. Well, I know that he's referred to himself as both straight and an ally. But as someone who once thought they were both straight and an ally before they realised that they were in fact bi, because they fell in love with a girl... he might not feel ready to deal with that, or like me he knew about his attraction to women in his case, men in mine and so we must be straight, and then just assumed that all straight people think that people of the same sex/gender are attractive.

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #tedependent #trent crimm #nicole watches stuff #as always I'm just rambling hoping that people understand what I'm talking about #also how many times have ted talked about men being nice to look at like... I see you... I've been you...#except for me it was women obviously #the way these two just seem to connect is...

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sgiandubh · 10 months

Note

They way that Sam and Caitriona don't go to mutual friends events make them look like they hate each other. Like one couldn't be there if the other is going. It's bad look for outlander too isnt it? It's like their leads don't get along.

Dear Mutual Friends Anon,

Well, it depends on the way you look at it. Your assumption is logical, but also emotional: you seem to think the wider community of fans pays attention to those details, when in fact they don't. I even very much doubt the Casuals have a clue about all the connections between yesterday's two hosts, S and C. They will just comment his hair or his outfit and of course, drool: bless their hearts.

They will start filming Season 8 in March and that means that they still might have about six months of a life rhythm they both got used to. And then? The first day after will be the hardest - have you ever quit your job without another one on cue? I did, Anon: the first day after was hell, even if I knew I took the right decision. So it's only logical and fair that their priority would be to make sure that first day after is the least difficult possible. Though it will be so, without a doubt.

I scoured a bit Instagram for pics of the event. I found it odd the vast majority of the people posting about it chose roughly the same pics and the same moments (the happy couple cutting the cake, etc). I don't know if she was there, but if she were, chances are she'd ask them not to post a pic with her. I have seen it more than once at receptions and various events - many Chinese colleagues, for example, do not want their pic taken, for ... reasons. Caitriona Mary Balfe certainly did not invent discretion on Earth.

#Anon #shitshow

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

Text

Baby It's Cold Outside

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

A freak snow storm traps you and Sam in your motel room for the night so there’s only one thing for it, an evening of peace and quiet

Warnings: little bit spicy but not really full on smut, established relationship, around season 3, partial nudity, fluff, ok actually this is kind of smutty so SMUT

WC: 1.5k

Square Filled: Blizzard @spnchristmasbingo

Minors DNI

SPN Christmas Bingo

“Well, it looks like we’re not going anywhere tonight.” Sam shut the flimsy motel curtains, blocking your view of the frankly violent blizzard occurring right outside.

“That’s just great.” You moaned, flopping back onto the cheap bed, dropping your already packed duffle bag off the side. The shaggy haired man just chuckled and kicked off his boots, taking a seat beside you.

“It can’t be that bad being stuck here with me.” His pink lips turned up in an adorable smile, his dimples becoming prominent. A large hand cupped your full cheek and rolled over so he could rest his weight on his other hand, his lean body fitting between your soft thighs.

Your face flamed as you looked up at him, watching as the hazel in his eyes disappeared behind a haze of lust. “I could think of better things to do.” Your arms wound around his neck, pulling his face towards you.

“Oh? And what would that include?” The tip of his round nose brushed against yours, his breath fanning over your lips. From this close, you could see the small imperfections on his face that only served to make the young hunter even more beautiful. You could feel him growing hard against your thigh, the heat of him dangerously close to your core.

Silence settled over you like a comforting blanket. The orange glow of the streetlamp outside your room provided a comforting glow against the grey wash of the snow. Sam’s hair fell in front of his face and with a smooth motion, you brushed it back, your thumb gently caressing his clean shaven cheek. “I think that I should get undressed…” You started, your touch slowly moving downwards, lightly brushing each button of his flannel, feeling the strong chest hidden beneath only a couple layers of fabric.

“Keep going.” He was nosing at your neck now, lips tracing the trail of dark bruises he had left on your skin a few days before. You barely suppressed a gasp as he nibbled on a particularly sensitive mark right behind your ear.

“And then, once I’m completely naked, you should get naked too.” You could feel the way his lips turned up in a devilish smirk against your skin. He rested more of his weight on top of you, pinning your wide hips to the mattress, his other hand cupping one of your thighs.

“What then?” His voice dropped an octave, and you knew he was waiting for you to give your consent, to tell him to let loose and ravage you properly.

Your fingers slipped up into his shirt and caressed his abs, preening as they tightened beneath your palm. “Once you’re completely bare, perfect skin and cock on display for me, I want you to…” Your lips connected with his ear in a delicate peck before your tongue darted out and licked at the lobe. Sam shuttered above you, his thin hips bucking into yours. “Get in the shower cause you stink like ghoul.” And with a mighty shove, you pushed him off of you and he rolled to the floor.

There was a grunt, not of pain but more of annoyance, and then a head of messy brown hair popped up on the other side of the mattress. “That was mean.” He pouted but you just rolled your eyes.

“And you stink, go shower.” He huffed, clearly peeved about you working him up only to tell him to take a shower, yet he complied anyway. With a groan, the tall man stood up from the carpeted floor and began a very very slow walk to the bathroom.

His plaid came off first, quickly followed by his dark undershirt, letting you get a good look at his tanned, muscular back. Heat pooled in your already ruined panties and you knew that if he didn’t smell so awful from the hunt earlier that day, you would have happily joined him in the cramped shower. You heard the clink of his belt buckle.

You watched, hypnotised, as the leather was slowly pulled through the loops of his jeans, the denim sagging even more with every loop the belt moved through, exposing the top of his Saxx boxers. You bit down on your bottom lip as his jeans slipped down his powerful legs, his boxers quickly falling to the ground.

As he walked away, you could see flashes of his cock bouncing in time with his strides. “Damn you Winchester.” You muttered to yourself, firmly turning away from your boyfriend to focus on the small sliver of window that wasn’t covered by the white curtains. You slipped from the bed and looked out onto the world.

Sam was right, snow was coming down from dark clouds quickly and with a surprising amount of force. Your truck which was parked just outside was already covered in a layer of white at least a couple inches thick. The wind screamed just outside, making the glass of the window wobble in its frame.

Yet you smiled. Maybe this could be good for you both, it had been a very long time, if ever, that you had any much needed time to yourselves. With the desperate search for a way to break Dean’s deal and dealing with the fallout of John’s death, you needed a vacation.

With a quick text to Bobby and Dean, assuring them that you were fine, just trapped for the evening, you shut off both yours and Sam’s phones. Quickly, you stripped off your dirty clothes and pulled on a shirt from his bag before pulling all of the sheets and blankets from the bed and piled them on the couch.

By the time you heard the shower shut off, you had created a blanket fort just large enough for you both, complete with the motel radio and a flashlight that you covered with a piece of fabric, dousing the small area in a dim glow.

“Princess?” Sam’s confused tone made you smile as you poked your head up and out of the blankets. He had pulled on a fresh pair of boxers, his hair, though mostly dry, still had some droplets of water clinging to the ends. Your eyes followed a particularly large drop as it fell from one of the long strands and rolled down the front of his body until it reached the neatly timed patch of hair that peaked out over his underwear.

“I’m right here, handsome.” You answered, desperately trying to keep your voice level. You wanted at least an hour of just nice cuddling before your boyfriend wrecked you. His kaleidoscope eyes softened as they landed on you and like a dog following their master, he strode across the room, keen to wrap you up in his arms.

There was a brief struggle as he fit his long limbs into the fragile structure but soon, his back was propped up against the couch cushions, his legs stretched out in front of him as you lay on his lap, ear firmly pressed against his chest, listening to the strong beating of his heart.

Large hands skimmed your back beneath your shirt, holding you as close as he could. Your own hands held his ribs, feeling the way he inhaled and exhaled, holding tight like he was your lifeline. “This was a great idea.” He murmured into your hair.

Sighing, you glanced up at him. “I’m glad you think so, it’s even better now that you don’t smell like you crawled through the sewer.” There was a slight hitch in his breath and you could tell he wanted to retort something sassy but instead he just smiled against the top of your head.

“You know what would make this even better?” There was a teasing tone to his voice that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“What’s that?” You expected him to respond in a similar manner to your own teasing from earlier but Sam always had a trick up his sleeve.

“If you were sitting on my cock, keeping me nice and warm while we watch the snow fall.” A moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it. And he laughed heartily, shaking your body with the force. “Sorry, couldn’t help it.” He said between chuckles.

“Yeah you could.” It was your turn to pout now.

“You’re right but it was pretty funny.” You glared at him, face set with determination. Suddenly, your cold hands were in his boxers, gripping his considerable length. Sam hissed at both the coldness of your skin and the feel of you finally touching him where he needed you.

“I guess I should prove you wrong though. Just cuddling is so much better than cock warming.” You rocked forward onto your knees which were planted by his hips, and guided him back to your entrance.

“Go on princess, prove me wrong.” He growled, indulging your challenge. You huffed and sat down, back arching almost painfully as you struggled to take him fully. “Fuck.” Sam groaned. His jaw was locked, the muscles working over as he let you do what you wanted to him.

“S-see, just -shit- cuddling is better.” Your plump body trembled on top of him as he threw his head back, exposing his long neck to your hungry lips.

“I can see your point now.”

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tanoraqui · 2 years

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I COMPLETELY FORGOT A VERY IMPORTANT PART OF CROWNLESS (the Young Aragorn show that lives in my, and apparently many of your, hearts): Each season opens with the framing device of middle-aged Sam Gamgee sitting by the fire in Bag End, telling his kids stories about the King. If you don’t have a (historical inaccuracy-excusing) narrative frame in a Middle Earth story, wtf are you even doing?

Also, the theme song in my mind is "All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter" by Clamavi de Profundis, but I'm open to some other group doing their own arrangement of the poem.

so, key elements of season 3 (s1 and 2 here):

A couple times in s2, including notably in the season finale?, Rohirrim were involved…so at the very end of that season, King Thengel invited Aragorn to come serve in his court/armed forces. That’s right, it’s time for UNMITIGATED HORSE GIRL!ARAGORN HOURS!

(confession: I could be persuaded to combine s2 and s3, with some elements of s3 going into s4)

(and clarification: Aragorn isn't deliberately using a false name, but he's also not presenting himself as anything more than a random northern Dúnedain ranger, son of nobody in particular.)

The show starts to shift in this season: in addition to/in place of some monster of the week episodes, we get political drama of the week, and more ongoing plotlines. Also, I realized it’s as much ‘location of the week’ as ‘monster of the week’—that continues, centered around Rohan (which means we’ll retread some locations from s2)

First trip to Minas Tirith, on some diplomatic excursion!

fun canon LotR info: Thengel, Theoden's father, was a total Gondor stan - he lived there from his teens until he had to come home to take up the crown, he married a woman from Lossarnach, as King of Rohan he spoke Sindarin and Westernesse and not Rohirric...

so I'm gonna say that teenage Theoden is kind of resentful of that? He was born in Lossarnach, came to Rohan at age 5...but Rohan is his home and he loves it, and he wonders if his father is too enamored of Gondor to be the best king of Rohan. He's skeptical of Thengel recruiting this random Ranger to be a captain of the Riders. On the flip side, Aragorn is SO COOL, and superb with horses. and Theoden wants to be him when he grows up. It's hard, being a teenager and a prince, with 4 sisters. It's hard and nobody understands

Sauruman is there for an episode, being genuinely helpful but his vibes are faintly rancid. He's about to start building up Isengard as an armed power. If the season finale involves something like a proper battle again, he might pitch in.

Halbarad and Dúnawen might actually stay in Ithilien? Or they come along to Rohan but they just join the Riders without getting involved in court stuff at all. Aragorn is going to start doing more things on his own. They presumably have their own B/C-plot character arcs btw, I just don't know what

Roddis definitely stayed behind in Ithilien/Gondor. New in the cast, however, not from quite the start but maybe like ep7/22, or the midseason onward? Is a perfectly normal human woman with dark hair and grey eyes...

Arwen. It's Arwen.

Aragorn: Why are you here? Arwen: I am the daughter of Elrond Half-Elven. My grandparents include the Evening Star, White-Winged Elwing, and Galadriel, student of Melian who on separate occasions told both Fëanor and Eonwë to fuck off. Everyone who met her agrees that I look just like my great-great-grandmother Lúthien Tinúviel. The distant echo of the Doom of the Exiles runs in my veins, as do the Songs of Lúthien and the Light of a Silmaril. I know the weight of Fate when it settles on my shoulders like a mantle, as it did when you called me 'Tinúviel' beneath Imladris's twilit trees—but the Choice of the Peredhel remains mine and mine alone. So I have come, Elessar, Isildur's heir, to see if I actually like you. Arwen: Curiosity. Aragorn: [vividly remembering how in s1 his mom said, "She's way out of your league" and Elrond said, "You won't get married until you're king." (Aragorn: "...married to your daughter?" Elrond: "To anyone. Period.")] Aragorn: Cool. Curiosity is cool. I'm gonna be so normal about this.

(Spoilers: he was not entirely normal about this.)

(Spoilers: they super do like each other, though)

Idk what the backup rangers are doing overall, but I do want Aragorn and Dúnawen to still have some sort of romantic Thing in s2, maybe off and on again, as Aragorn thought Arwen wasn't interested and was trying not to just be moping about it... Then Arwen arrives and Aragorn is So Conflicted for like 1 episode, before Dúnawen comes to him like, "Aragorn, I love you as a friend and comrade-in-arms and I love you as my chieftain and king-to-be, and I could probably love you as a wife if we really tried...but you clearly have not just a crush but some sort of Destiny thing with Lady Arwen, so I'm going to go back to Ithilien for a bit, maybe get drunk and laid with a handsome barmaid, and get over you. While I'm gone, you should try, like, talking to her."

A thing that Aragorn and Arwen...do bond over, but more it's there to demonstrate their compatibility to the audience, is: ...So, we (the writers/producers) don't have the rights to The Silmarillion, right, just The Lord of the Rings and its Appendices, and The Hobbit. These do periodically namedrop people, however, with dashes of elaboration mostly in the Appendices...and Aragorn is established from the start to be a bit of a history nerd, because that's what happens when you're raised by Elrond...so periodically, Aragorn and his friends will be in a Situation and Aragorn will whisper, like, "This is just like when [Fëanor/Túrin/Tar-Minastir/etc...]—" and Halbarad or Dúnawen hisses, "Does that actually help us right now?" and Aragorn will say, "Sure!" and start doing something that Silmarillion nerds can recognize is inspired by whatever the person in question did in a similar situation (note: sometimes Aragorn deliberately does the opposite of what the historical figure did, and it works much better.) The writers very carefully do not explicitly reference anything not explicitly in the permitted texts. If they need/get to elaborate on a historical figure, they'll toe a careful line of Silmarillion canon and blatantly made-up things.

That happened more in s1, when the show needed to make good with the old fans, but also in s2. Aragorn remains the only one referencing this stuff. Then in s3, he and Arwen are...let's say captured by bandits, and Arwen murmurs in his ear, "I have an idea. You know in the Lay of Lúthien..." Aragorn's eyes widen. "Beren and Lúthien or Beren and Finrod?" Arwen: "Finrod." Aragorn nods, and they proceed to bullshit their way out of being captive with flawless teamwork and yes-and-ing (and maybe fight a wolf on their way out, just to be thorough).

No idea what this season finale is. Like I said, you could probably weave parts of most of this season into s2 and s4? But that would ruin the "a different significant geographical area every season" thing we've got going on.

[s4 here!]

#aragorn #arwen #theoden #lotr #lord of the rings #ficlet #fanfiction #my fic

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antigone-ks · 3 months

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Lantern of Evil

It's been almost 5 years since I posted this on AO3, so I thought it was time to clean up some typos and put it onto Tumblr.

MASTERLIST

Summary:

“You’re in a good mood today,” Natasha commented, holding the phone steady as Tony and Sam devolved into a slap fight. “Haven’t seen you smile this much since, y’know.”

“This is quality entertainment,” Steve said. “You don’t get this every day.”

“No you do not.” She turned the phone toward Bucky, who whistled as he sprinkled sea salt over the meat. He looked up, winked directly at her, then tossed the rest of the seasoning like a long-haired Salt Bae.

“But you seemed pretty chipper when you snuck back in before the show started.”

***

Or, Steve gets de-serumed and falls in love over art, old movies, and taxi dances.

Rating: E for Explicity, Eventually

Tags: Steve Rogers/Reader; Plus Size Reader; Natasha Romanov (Marvel); Tony Stark; Sam Wilson (Marvel); James "Bucky" Barnes; background Bucky/Nat - Freeform; Skinny Steve Rogers; Pre-Serum Steve Rogers; Post-Serum Steve Rogers; De-Serumed Steve Rogers; all of the combinations of serums and Steves; Slow Burn; Awkward Flirting; Awkward reader; Awkward Steve Rogers; neither of these goobers know what they're doing; shameless Letterkenny reference; False Identity; horrible misunderstandings; love in art galleries; love on bridges; love on front porches; will earn rating in later chapters; I hope; inappropriate use of a history degree; Short Reader; Profanity; Fluff; Angst; Fluff and Angst; Smut; Oral Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Making Out; definitely third base; not all-the-way parking but pretty close; Biting; Cunnilingus; Fellatio; Vaginal Sex; Steve wants to be clear that this isn't fucking; Making Love

Chapter One: The Greens of June

And all the greens of June/ Come blowing through the door/ They make me want to live/ Like I never have before

____________________

You settled onto the bench, bag on the floor. The museum had barely opened – a bad sign; it meant you were either blocked or stir-crazy. Or both. Both was bad. You’d had the museum on your list of things-to-do-if-you-had-time, but when you’d first come to town you’d expected that there would never be time. You were getting the change of scenery and relief from responsibilities that you’d always wanted, so of course you never imagined that the same old problems would plague you.

Namely, writer’s block. Imposter Syndrome. “Every word I write is trash and I should sleep in the dumpster”-itis.

You’d gotten this amazing opportunity to take a sabbatical, move half a continent away, and just research the hell out of your magnum opus, a stroke of historical genius. Or what would be your magnum opus, if you could get the damn thing off the ground. Right now it was stuck at brevi opus.

Opus minimis.

You had piles of research, and a good starting point, but you either got stuck on the writing of it or spent days on end organizing the data until the sun coming in the curtains made you feel like a Morlock crawling out of its hole.

So you’d hit the museum.

It’d actually been working pretty well for you, the last few weeks, and you’d started making it part of your routine. Rather than wait for the Bad Times to force you out of the house, you’d come down every two or three days and just . . . pick something. A painting, a sculpture, whatever caught your eye, and you’d study it until your mind felt clear. Sometimes your mind would wander far enough afield that it circled back to your work, and you’d excitedly jot down a new avenue to explore or a turn of phrase you liked. Sometimes you got nothing but a peaceful feeling. Either way, it was good for you, and the initial guilt you’d felt at not being Productive At All Times had faded.

It sort of was productive, anyway. You told yourself so.

For the last couple of visits, you’d sat with Hamilton’s Joan of Arc and the Furies. It was Shakespeare’s Joan, about to be captured by the English and burned for heresy. It’s not . . . good . . . you think, you don’t like it, but there’s something about it. It’s like two different paintings in one, dark and bright, overbearing and reticent.

There aren’t many people around yet, no kiddie camp visits today, so you’re alone in this part of the gallery. The docents are used to you by now, and don’t bother eagle-eyeing you. You lean your chin on your hand and stare hard at Joan, at her Merveilleuse gown, which, like, didn’t Hamilton know she wore pants? Like, famously? But anyway.

“You know,” a deep voice said, “I’ve always wondered what’s going on with the light down by that first fury. What does it symbolize?”

You look over your shoulder at the speaker, a slightly-built blond man with a sketchbook under his arm. He’d shown up a couple of times before, wandering around with more purpose than the average tourist, like he knew which pieces he liked and why. He had a delicate face and serious eyes with just ridiculous lashes. You smiled uncertainly.

“Like, where even is it coming from? Under her skirt?” you ask, and he looks down at you and whoa nelly those are very blue eyes and chuckles.

“Is it the lantern of justice?” he says, quirking an eyebrow.

“Probably not in Shakespeare. Maybe a lantern of evil.”

“She keeps a lantern of evil in her skirt?” He’s smiling openly at you now, and it’s a really nice smile, and that’s the only excuse you have for what comes out of your mouth next.

“Lantern of evil – in my pants!” you chirp, grinning.

His eyebrows shot up and he gave an incredulous hah.

“Like, like the game?” you say hurriedly. “Where you add ‘in my pants’ to a quote, or a movie title?” You can hear your voice rising nervously and fiddle with your glasses to avoid looking at him. “One ring to rule them . . . in my pants?”

He’s laughing now – probably more at you than at the joke – but it’s enough to relax you a little bit.

“I have never played that game,” he said, eyes dancing. “But I know just the person to try it with. I’ve seen you here before,” he went on, glancing back at the painting. The tips of his ears went very pink.

“Yeah, this is turning into my happy place when work’s not going so well.” You look at Joan again and clear your throat. “I think I saw you, too . . . maybe Sunday?” Not that I noticed you. I’m not a creeper. I notice nothing. I can barely see.

He nodded and shrugged. “Probably, yeah. I’ve been here a lot over the past week.”

“Work got you down, too?” you ask. He kind of purses his lips and nods. Taking a breath, you gesture to the empty half of the bench. “Want to share Joan with me? She’ll take your mind off it.”

His smile is a slow, gentle thing, and even though you say nothing more until it’s time to leave, you feel warmer for sitting near him.

***

“Because they’ll clog up the drain.” Tony’s voice is clipped.

“They get rid of odors,” Natasha points out.

“So it was you.”

“You think I drink that light roast nonsense?” She looks up as Steve enters, the light of battle in her eyes. Well, the light of annoying Tony. It’s not hard. “Weak.”

“Now you’re a coffee snob, Romanoff? You – “ Tony points a pair of tongs at Steve “ – do some reconnaissance, rally the troops, whatever it is you do, and catch this villain.”

Steve clucks his tongue and fails to hide a grin. “Coffee grounds again? You know, we could just get a Keurig and solve that problem easily.” He ducks as both Tony and Natasha turn on him, allied in outrage.

“Just for that,” Tony says, “you get whichever steak I overcook.”

Steve eyes the barstools at the island. He can get into them now, but it involves just enough scrambling that it hurts his dignity. No one said anything the first time he did it, not even Tony, and that was somehow worse than teasing would have been. He’s not broken, for God’s sake. He’s a man of temporarily reduced stature. It’ll be fixed in no time, Bruce and Tony and Helen have promised, but . . .

He’d read a book once that described a gnome as a person whose ‘belligerence was compressed into a body six-inches high and, like many things when they are compressed, had an inclination to explode.’[1] Steve didn’t consider himself belligerent – although he had the urge to cross himself in penance and hope that Bucky was in a different building when he thought it – but he did feel like every human emotion was currently packed into a body too small to hold it all. This body didn’t fit, except that it did, and Steve honestly wasn’t sure which feeling was worse.

He leaned against the counter with – he hoped – an insouciant air and nodded at Tony. “’s long as I can gnaw through it.”

“Are you impugning my grilling skills, Rogers?”

“Wait, you’re gonna grill those?” Sam and Bucky entered the kitchen, apparently fresh off a sparring match. Sam’s skin glistened with sweat, and Bucky wasn’t much better off. Sam might not have super serum in his veins, but he wasn’t a pushover in the ring.

“How else d’you cook ‘em?” Bucky asked, wrinkling his nose at Sam.

“You sear ‘em on the stovetop in a cast-iron skillet,” Sam said, holding up one finger, “finish ‘em in the oven,” two fingers, “serve with a garlic-herb butter.” Three fingers, waved in Bucky’s face.

Natasha leaned on the counter next to Steve and pointed her phone toward the argument. “Every time,” she whispered, hitting "record."

“Every time,” Steve answered.

“In the oven? Cook like a man, Sam!”

“Grill makes ‘em too dry,” Sam insisted.

“Hey!” Tony snapped his tongs at Bucky. “My meat. My rules.” He straightened his shoulders under Sam’s withering look. “On the grill, flip once a minute for the good grill marks.”

“That’s overhandling.” Sam’s tone suggested he was heading straight to church to light all of the candles for Tony’s soul.

“Wait – everyone, wait,” Steve broke in. Natasha quirked her lip at him, annoyed that he was ruining the show. He winked at her. “The real issue here is, aren’t you gonna season those things?”

“Yeah, where’s the salt and pepper, bud?” Bucky asked.

“Don’t start with me,” Tony warned.

“Where’s the steak spice,” Sam asked, rummaging through the cupboards. “I made you a steak spice months ago. My own blend, Tony. I gifted it to you. I’m not eating one of your bland-ass steaks again.” Tony abandoned the meat in favor of bodily hauling Sam away from the cupboards, giving Bucky time to grind at least a little peppercorn on each of the steaks.

“ – my steaks alone!” “ – killing the flavor, man. Killing the flavor!” “ – oversalting!” “ – can’t cook ‘em right, you leave it to someone who can!”

“You’re in a good mood today,” Natasha commented, holding the phone steady as Tony and Sam devolved into a slap fight. “Haven’t seen you smile this much since, y’know.”

“This is quality entertainment,” Steve said. “You don’t get this every day.”

“But you already seemed pretty chipper when you snuck back in before the show started.”

Steve’s eyes were wide with injured innocence. “Snuck? Back in? I –“

“Can it. I don’t care – probably no one will recognize you – but if Tony finds out he’s going to turn into Chicken Little about security.”

“Tony can go lay an egg,” Steve said firmly, making Natasha snort with real laughter.

She sighed. “As hilarious as this is, I’m getting hungry." her voice carried across the kitchen. "Knock it off of or I’m calling Rhodey in.”

Tony straightened, Sam’s arm still around his neck. “Betrayal, Romanoff. I feel betrayed.”

“Yeah, no calling in the brass,” Sam complained. “We can settle this on our own.”

“Better settle that meat on the grill before the others get here,” Steve said. “Want help?”

“Excuse me,” Tony said, affronted. “I can handle the meat.”

The words left Steve’s mouth before he could stop them “ – in my pants?”

Natasha dropped the phone.

____________________

[1] Terry Pratchett, The Fifth Elephant

case/lang/viers – “Greens of June”

And all the greens of June/ Come blowing through the door/ They make me want to live/ Like I never have before

Read Chapter Two

#steve rogers #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x reader #my fanfiction

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