#bobby being sarcastic about everything
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Tis the Season... Mistletoe Season
Pairing: George Weasley x Best Friend!reader
Characters: Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Best Friend!reader, Ginny Weasley, Molly Weasley, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Arthur Weasley (briefly mentioned), Bill Weasley (briefly mentioned), Harry Potter (briefly mentioned)
Warnings: Shenanigans, this is crack I swear, use of mistletoe, Reader is late to the crushing on a Weasley twin game, fluff, slight angst (at the end), reader has the best friendships with the twins, mentions of the war, mentions of... Fred (I somehow can’t not mention him when I write for George)
Word Count: 2,256
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“I know someone who has a crush on you,” Fred whispers in a sing song tune.
You don’t look up from your essay, adding a coma where you see it needs to be. “Are you sure that it isn’t you, Fredbear?”
“I still prefer Fred the one with Fabulous,” he lifts his hand, swishing his hair all about. “Hair but whatever.” Fred yanks the nearest chair and sits on it with his arms crossed.
“No, no, no,” you repeat. “No sitting.”
“And, why not? You saving it for someone? The real someone who has taken a liking to you for some reason.” You scoff, shoving his shoulder. “I’ll have you know, Fred that I’m a delight.”
He nods, pretending to listen as he stares off into the space in front of you. “You still coming over?”
“And break Molly and Arthur’s hearts? No thanks mate. I’m not that crazy.”
“Same time?”
You think about it for a minute. “You mean when you drag me home with you?”
“Yes.”
“Same time.”
“You better be ready or else I’m leaving without you.”
“You’re the one that’s late. Last time, I went out and you weren’t there so then I figured you’d forgotten because you had other plans involving your pranks and I went to Diagon Alley.”
“I was on time,” he scoffs.
“You showed up three days late.”
“Whatever. You better have everything you need before you come over.”
“I will because I’m leaving Hogwarts with the Weasley clan.”
“You are?”
You nod, returning your attention to your homework. “I am, I’ve already written to your mum about it, and she can’t wait.”
“I don’t know if I should be concerned or not that you’ve talked to her.”
You turn towards him, head resting in your palm, fingers curled settling on your cheek.
The sarcastic and dark smile sends a shiver down his spine. “And you wonder why I don’t invite you to help George and I with pranks.”
“Oh, shut it!” You shove his shoulder. “You lie.”
“I would never,” he says with his right hand over his heart. “Scouts honor.”
“You have no idea who or what the scouts.”
“Harry said it.”
“Ah.”
-
You barely walk through the hallway to your usual meeting spot with Fred when you hear his voice.
“Finally. Let’s go.”
You scoff, “can’t even be a charming mate and help me with my bag. You can clearly see I’m struggling here.”
Before he could respond, someone took your bag from you. “Thank you, George. I’ll buy you a chocolate frog as repayment for your kindness.”
His brothers jaw drops open.
“Don’t you start with me, Fred. Your brother has been more helpful than you, therefore he deserves a nice treat before we go home to the chaos.” You start walking ahead of the two, not wanting to hear Fred being a little shit.
“Told you.”
“Told me what,” George grumbles, hoping that the cold air will take away some of the warmth from his cheeks before you could see.
“She fancys you. Why is this so hard for you to understand?”
“Her offering to get me something on the train doesn’t mean she likes me.”
“The only other time she got someone a chocolate frog was our second year and she bought it for that idiot Bobby.”
George pauses, taking in this new information he’s just learned. “Wasn’t he the bloke who stood her up?” He continues to walk towards the train.
“Exactly,” Fred nods. “She liked him, so she bought him a chocolate frog. Now she likes you and wants to buy you a chocolate frog.”
“Maybe- Maybe she’s just being nice.”
“I’m nice but I don’t buy people chocolate.”
“That’s because you eat it all before anyone can get to it like the toad you are.”
“That was uncalled for!” Fred shouts, chasing after his brother.
-
You turn around, realizing neither of them are behind you only to run into something.
“Sorry,” his voice comes out quiet.
You lift your head from his chest and realize it’s George. You shake your head, smiling at him. “It’s alright, better you than the other one.”
He chuckles.
“Are you alright though?” You step back, placing your hands on his forearms as you check him out, making sure he’s not injured. “Oh, you’re looking a little red. Are you sick?”
He shakes his head, lowering it to hide his embarrassment. “I’m fine.” A piece of paper slides by his foot. “Look up. Tis’ the season.”
He can hear Fred snickering off to the side, his nerves are teetering closer to the edge of full-fledged embarrassment. He slowly lifts his head to find a bundle of Mistletoe beside you. He walks away from you, rushing over to Fred so he can bear him or spell him, whichever comes first.
You notice the note and bundle, covering your mouth to hide your nervous and excited smile.
George comes back, his hand on your back as he guides you onto the train. “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure you’re, okay?”
“Would be better if my brother would stop being such a prat.”
“Good to know we agree on something. Oh.”
“What is it?”
“Sit with me and you’ll find out.”
“Prank Fred?”
You nod, a wide smile dancing across your lips.
“Good.”
“I have a notebook full of ideas.”
“Perfect.”
He finds an empty seat for three even though you’ll both try to kick his brother out. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
“Hey, can I-”
“No.”
“I’m your brother, Georgie. Let me sit with you.”
“No.”
“That’s rude to say to your best friend.”
“I have George, that seems like plenty of company to me.”
“Why do you hate me?”
“Should we let him in before he causes a scene?” You ask him.
“If we do, we won’t be able to plan anything.”
“I know what to do. Don’t you worry about that.”
He stops when he notices you two have stopped whispering.
“Come in and shut it.”
“Good. I was worried I’d have to do something Ronnykins in order to have a seat.”
You roll your eyes. “Shut up.”
“Gladly... but-” Fred raises his hands when he sees your glare. “Alright, alright. I’ll shut up now.”
-
“Oh, look at you, dear.” Molly greets you with a smile, arms wide open for a hug. “Have they been feeding you?”
“Fred stresses me.”
“Oh, that won’t do. Fred!”
You snicker into her embrace.
The boy hops down from the last few steps, wondering why he’s being called down like he’s in trouble until he sees you.
Now it all makes sense.
“Why have you been putting stress on your friend?”
“What? Stress? I haven’t-”
“Don’t try and deny it. Look at her.”
“She looks fine.”
“Fred Weasley! You little-”
You sneak away while your friend whines. You stare up, knowing that he’s around here somewhere.
His head pops over the railing, his arms crossed as he leans over slightly.
You give him an okay hand signal with a nod.
He smiles, waving you up.
You look back, making sure no one is watching so you can escape.
He backs away from the railing, leaning against the wall as he waits for you.
You snicker as your foot touches the last step, “Oh that was too funny.”
“It was. It’ll be funnier later.”
“I hope so. Do you think he'll know it was us?”
He shrugs, “maybe. Maybe not. He’s gonna try and blame us but we won’t break, right?”
You shake your head and hold your hand out for him, “I’ve got your back as long as you have mine.”
He shakes your hand, holding onto it longer than a normal person would.
Ginny’s voice travels up as she runs up the stairs bringing you two out of your mini staring contest.
‘He has really pretty eyes- oh no.’ “Uh- I gotta- bye.” You pass the youngest Weasley and run down the stairs.
You stop in the kitchen, resting your back against the wall. ‘I fancy my best mate’s brother, who’s also my best mate.’ “Oh Merlin,” you head falls back, resting against the wall.
“What’s got you all flustered?” a mumbled voice comes from beside you.
Your head snaps over at his. “Noth-nothing Ron. All good here,” you give him a nervous smile.
He narrows his eyes at you, taking another bite out of his snack.
“Ignore him,” Fred shoves the boy away from you. “Good plan you two created back there. You should be proud.”
You narrow your eyes at him, ignoring him as you search for your bag.
“What’s got you all red? You’re face practically matches my hair.”
You march in front of him, index finger a mere few centimeters away from his chin. “Shut up.”
“Calm down,” he pushes your hand away from him.
All of a sudden, he’s on the ground and you’re being pulled away.
“Wha- George?!”
He sheepishly smiles. “I’m back.”
Neither of you say anything.
“Would you two look at that? Why is that- Hermione, is that what I think it is?”
The girl stares at him with furrowed brows, unsure of why she’s been brought over and then she sees it.
A quiet, “oh,” escapes her. “If you’re talking about mistletoe, then I do believe your right, Fred.”
“And what is that?” You ask, jaw clenched.
A mischievous smirk takes over, “if I remember correctly when I asked Harry, which I do. You and whoever stands under the mistletoe must share a kiss and not- not on the cheek or the forehead or anywhere else. I know you and loopholes.”
“That,” you point up to the bundle, “that is- is holly.”
“No, it’s not.”
“No, it’s not,” you whine.
“Fred,” George starts.
“No, Georgie boy. You’re not getting out of it today.”
“Out of what?” You ask him.
“Oh, look at that. Ron’s choking- we’re coming to save you brother of mine. Have fun, you two.”
“What did he mean by that?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing,” he rocks on the balls of his heels.
“Liar.”
“Well, now that’s just rude-”
You take a step closer to him. “How is it rude?”
“You called me a liar with no proof,” he tells you, also taking a step forward.
“Well, maybe it’s because I know you and I know when you’re lying.”
“Only Fred can do that.”
“You forget, I can tell the two of you apart.”
He nods, eyes focusing on your lips. “You can.”
You try to respond with a witty comeback only to feel his lips smashed against yours. It takes you a second for your brain to process his movements but before he can pull away, you eagerly return the kiss.
“Finally… wait, does this mean you two are gonna be doing this all the time?” Fred has the audacity to ask (when he was the one pushing you two to get closer for the last few months.
You two part, his hands on your waist, yours wrapped around his neck. You share a look with him and glances back at your friend.
“Yes,” the two of you say in sync.
“Oh, Merlin.”
You giggle, turning to look at George again. “Good holiday so far?”
“Best one before I ask you a question.”
“Hmm. What’s that?”
“If I tell you now, it’ll ruin the surprise.” You pout but he makes it up by showering you in affection.
-
After Fred and George decide to open WWW, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, he proposed to which you happily accepted and got married after the war.
You would have chosen to do it sooner had their older brother, Bill, not planned on getting married around that time.
But you both had something to honor him. You used the pin he secretly made when he found out George had begun to fancy you. It was a prototype then and once the shop was open and he had proper tools and supplies he was able to successfully make a one-of-a-kind hair pin that popped out a small veil.
The only reason you found it was because Fred had, at some point, stuffed it into your jacket pocket before you all left for Hogwarts.
You thought your fiancé had barely just fallen asleep when you began weeping as you read his note.
-
I always knew he would ask you to marry him and, look at that, I’m right. Ha!
This is the first and only of its design, don’t lose it or else I’m gonna be upset when it’s time.
Put it in place and it’ll work, I promise.
P.S. I better be best man. I don’t have the right figure for a maid of honor dress.
-
Warm arms and shaky hand pulled you close to him.
And George, he wore Fred’s friendship bracelet, the one you made (during one of your crafting stages) after the two of you decided you were gonna be friends and pranking partners, if there ever called for a time.
It was the only thing Fred wore on his wrist since it was “special”. Also, he would never switch with him if they pretended to be the other.
You two didn’t leave each other’s sides during this time but as time went on, you two slowly began to get help regarding your trauma while learning how to heal and not lose one another. It pains you to say but, it’s possible that your friend’s unfortunate death brought you two closer and more understanding of how special it is to know someone and have the kind of bond you two do.
#Harry Potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines#george weasley#george weasley imagine#george weasley imagines#george weasley x reader#george weasley x you#george weasley x best friend reader#george weasley x best friend!reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley fanfic#crazyk-imagine
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐇𝐔𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐓𝐋 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟓
Summary: When Y/N needs help on a hunt, she doesn't expect Bobby to send Dean Winchester to her. Now the two must work together to solve the case and Dean has to deal with Y/N's sarcastic and biting personality, that maybe he likes a little too much.
Pairing: Dean × F!Reader
Warnings: blood, spn level violence
Word count: 2625
Series
They got into the Impala with the intention of thinking up a plan for the hunt and following it as meticulously as possible: they had to speed things up.
“We should arrive early in the morning. Unless we're stopping to—” but when she saw Dean shaking his head, she dismissed that option. “Okay, no extra stops. Not even for breakfast?” She tried again, she couldn't stay awake and active without her black coffee every time she got out of bed.
"How can you live this life?" Asked the man sitting in the backseat of the car with a shattered face.
Good question.
"Everyone makes their own choices, right?" Y/N said, partly because she didn't know how to answer in any other way and partly to silence him once and for all with an allusion to his private life. Which worked perfectly as hoped.
"So" The girl started again speaking to Dean "We get to Toledo, prepare the weapons, wait for the sun to go down, leave the "fish food" near the lake, we wait for the creature to show up, we blind it with a light that we place exactly on Michael and we slow it down and then we slice it.”
It sounded very simple from how she described it but they both knew it wasn't going to be easy at all, especially to Michael, the one who played the more dangerous role.
Dean nodded, it was their last chance to kill the monster.
"Are you ready?" He asked with a smirk at Michael "Do you need to take a chamomile tea before starting?"
Y/N laughed glancing at the man in the back seat who pretended not to hear the question and turned to the window as if the scenery suddenly became incredibly interesting.
They arrived in Toledo twelve hours later, in the late afternoon. Y/N got the chance to drink hrr daily dose of coffee, while Dean to gobble down a double bacon burger.
"If's vefy goof" he commented with his mouth full, after inserting the last piece in his mouth.
Dean, Y/N and Michael were still aboard the Impala. The two hunters were rather calm in spite of everything, while their bait seemed more and more out of his mind.
“No, no, no. I... I-I can't do that. I just can't!"
"Hey! Calf down!' muttered Dean as he chewed. "Eferything's goffa be just fine."
«HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT, MH?!»
"Because we've faced situations like this before, and we know how to handle it," Y/N replied.
"Of course, you are not the ones who risk being eaten by that fucking thing!" Michael defended his theory, looking around as if feeling a sudden sense of claustrophobia.
“We can't do this without you, Michael. You're the only partner left, and everyone who works on this project—or who will work on it—is in danger,” he observed, tossing the burger wrap across the backseat as if Michael wasn't even there. “Even if you get out of this situation, someone else will work on that project and history will repeat itself.”
Dean was righ and the two hunters would have to deal with that later, anyway.
“Okay. Okay, I'll do it." Michael said even though he seemed about to cry.
"This is the right spirit!" exclaimed Dean enthusiastically, giving Y/N a small smile, which she returned with some satisfaction.
They waited for the sky to darken before reaching the lake: they needed the penumbra for the creature to come out into the open. Dean repeated several times to Michael that they would be there, close to him, ready to help him. Y/N just patted him on the shoulder.
When he got off the Impala, Dean and Y/N looked at each other, hoping the plan would proceed as planned. Then they took their weapons: guns with silver bullets for both, for Dean an ax and for Y/N a sharp blade.
"And with this we'll blind that son of a bitch," said Dean, taking the flashlight from the trunk before closing it and walking towards the trees in the grove nearby.
The location they chose wasn't the best but it was the most adequate: they had to hide in some way.
Not very far from the lake, camouflaged with the environment thanks to that slight darkness, Y/N and Dean were waiting with their eyes half closed in two slits to be able to see through the trees of that place.
"Do you think that flashlight will be enough to stop it?" She asked dubiously, looking down at the object in Dean's hands.
“It lives in the depths, right? There is hardly any light there, so I guess so.”
"You guess so?"
“It will work.” And this was strangely enough to give her the confidence she was looking for.
"Okay, so as soon as we see something moving in the water we go into action," she said, distracting herself only for a moment to be able get her binoculars from her jacket pocket. It was useful for sightings.
«And we have to make sure that it doesn't go back into the water, it has an advantage there. If it's that fast on land, we don't have any chance in an underwater fight, it would take us under and drown us in less than two seconds."
"Please don't be so optimistic!" She said sarcastically as she raised the binoculars to her eyes, scanning the surface of the lake. The more she zoomed in, the more she blessed the inventor of that instrument. The clarity of the images was reassuring. “So what do we do? Do we wait for it to move away from the water? We risk losing Michael too. You said it yourself that on dry land it's fast-"
"I'm working on it." At those words she was speachless for a moment. She lowered the binoculars and peered at him, motionless. What the hell did "working on it" mean? Michael was there waiting to be attacked and he hadn't even had the bright idea of planning anything specific?
“I'm so sorry Flash, but we have a really anxious man at the scene of the attack and little time left."
At that nickname they both came up with the same idea and their eyes widened synchronously. They looked at each other with the typical "do you think what I think?" look and when they both turned to Michael, they knew they had the same idea in mind.
They mimed the gesture of the phone, as if to invite him to use it in an emergency. At least now they were sure that, if only for some reason the monster would escape them, Michael had the flash of his phone.
Michael pulled out his phone and sighed deeply, his eyes closed. For a moment Dean thought he was going to have another anxiety attack, but luckily he seemed to calm down - as far as the situation allowed - soon after.
"Okay," Dean muttered under his breath, never taking his eyes off Michael. "Now we have to w-"
A rustle behind them. Dean and Y/N whirled around, in a snap. It's just the wind, he thought. But when there was another movement in the bushes, as they turned around, he changed his mind.
"I'll go check," said Y/N, daring to take a few steps forward. Dean grabbed her arm almost immediately, not squeezing as hard as he had that night when he had a nightmare.
“You're not going anywhere,” He indicated Michael with a significant nod of his head. "It's a trap. The thing knows we're here and it's trying to get us away from its dinner.”
They both looked around furtively. Michael stood motionless, hands clenched into fists, in front of the lake.
"Keep an eye on him."
"No, wait!", Y/N grabbed Dean's arm, just like he had done with her seconds before. "You can't go, you said it yourself, it's a trap."
"If we don't play its game, it will never come out," Dean said. “One of us has to go check and it won't be you.”
Y/N remained silent, she seemed almost surprised by his words, she stared at him for a moment then let go of his arm nodding slowly with a serious expression painted on her face.
Dean cast one last look at the girl and then advanced towards the darkness, disappearing between the trees. The handle of the gun tightly in one hand and the flashlight inside the jacket. It all seemed apparently peaceful, but he knew perfectly well that the Ahuizotl was there, hidden somewhere.
Dean cleared his throat, drew an arrogant smile on his lips and he began to whistle as to get the attention of a dog.
"Hey, I'm here!" he said aloud, looking from bush to bush. "C'mon! Come out, you son of a bitch!"
A movement to his right. Dean stiffened and swallowed a lot of saliva.
"I know you're there," he continued quietly, spinning carefully, trying to locate the creature in the dark.
He caught two small white lights just off the trunk of an oak tree. Dean frowned and froze, jaw set. The Ahuizotl's eyes were shining in the night. The creature growled and walked slowly forward. Dean backed away and as soon as he realized the thing was about to attack him, he turned on his flashlight and the thing backed away abruptly.
"Ah! You're not having fun anymore, are you?!"
Within seconds the Ahuzotl was gone again.
She wasn't really glad about Dean's decision when she saw him disappear into the woods taking her place.
"Dean?" She whispered in a low voice after some minutes spent in silence alternating her gaze from the thick vegetation to Michael still standing in the place they recommended to stay.
She knew she wasn't supposed to leave but the feeling that Dean might be attacked by that creature while she stood there made her stomach feel weird. She stared at Michael with hope.
The man turned back towards the woods but, when he saw only Y/N watching over him, he began again to breathe fast and to move his pupils from right to left
Honestly, he had all the right to be terrified: he only saw an arrogant girl who had revealed to him how easy she was to kill ordinary people. How could he have remained calm?
"I can't do it," the man said, words that Y/N was able to catch even from that distance through lip-reading.
"Don't panic right now, c'mon!" She couldn't even reach Michael to give him that little courage that would once again convince him to fight for the right cause.
Then that she was not good at that was another matter.
When she saw the man move away from the shore and then start running towards the opposite side, without a precise destination, she was forced to definitively unmask their cover and reach him, inevitably running after him.
“I'm running after a man who doesn't even like girls. I didn't think I'd ever say something like that" She thought aloud as she ran after him. "Michael! Michael come back!" Y/N's voice thundered louder than it should have. "I swear I won't throw you in the lake, but stop!"
And he stopped but not to do Y/N a favor, rather to catch his breath. She would have gladly killed him herself.
"I can't do it, I'm not like you!" The man vented himself, gathering his strength word after word.
"I know." She said looking back out of the corner of her eye but not letting Michael slip under her radar.
"We're all going to die, aren't we?"
"Certainly your improvisation did not play in our favor, since we are in the middle of nowhere now" she asserted sincerely deciding to use her machete as a defense weapon in case of attack.
Y/N heard noises of dry leaves crumbling and twigs breaking.
"And that's not a good sign, stay behind me."
Silence. Surrounding him there was only an eerie silence, broken from time to time by the rustle of leaves in contact with the night breeze. Dean looked around furtively, expecting to see that thing suddenly emerge, ready to feed on the most disgusting parts of a human body. But nothing happened. He frowned, suspicious.
The Ahuizotl probably went to finish what he had started, killing Michael and possibly Y/N too if he tried to stop it. Yet Dean felt something, a presence.
A movement. Dean turned away, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. But he saw nothing.
"I don't like that," he muttered to himself.
Then he heard growling, right there, behind him. He swallowed and froze for a few seconds before turning carefully. The Ahuizotl watched him, slime running down the sides of his sharp teeth. It wasn't the same one he'd been dealing with a few minutes earlier, it was smaller, but probably as bloodthirsty as its mother.
He sighed and gripped the ax handle even tighter. When the creature lunged at him, Dean decapitated it in one snap. The head rolled off like a bowling ball and the body fell on the ground. Its thick dark blood splattered everywhere. The tail kept moving and the hand at the end of it tried to reach Dean in vain. He grimaced, disgusted by the scene. Then with another sharp flick, just as Sam had told him to, he separated the tail from the body. He doused the creature with some gasoline taken earlier from the Impala's trunk and set the creature on fire without thinking about it twice.
A shot.
Dean looked up, beyond the trees.
Y/N...
He abandoned the fire and ran away, his heart racing at an almost alarming rate. He just hoped Y/N was okay and that Michael hadn't screwed up everything.
He arrived just in time to see the Ahuizotl stand up as if the bullet hadn't even grazed him.
"Hey!" he yelled for attention, but the monster didn't seem too interested, as he had a scared Michael right in front of him.
Y/N was lying on the ground nearby.
Dean wasn't one to pray, but in that moment he found himself mentally begging any god that she wasn't dead.
He picked up a stone from the ground and threw it at the creature, hitting it right on the head.
"I just killed your little, lovely son!" he added in a louder voice, so that the monster could hear those words well. When he turned in Dean's direction, he knew it had worked.
"I just cut off his head while his little hand went bye-bye," he teased him with a smirk.
The Ahuizotl leapt upon the hunter in no time, thirsting for vengeance. It had been so fast that Dean didn't even notice, the ax slipped from his hand.
He found himself pressed against the ground, the creature's paw pressed to his chest, its claws starting to tear through his shirt and a long trail of drool running down on him.
He hadn't noticed how sharp the monster's teeth were before. The creature's heavy breath, so reminiscent of the iron smell of blood, burned his skin. Dean narrowed his eyes and fumbled for his axe. He tried to retrieve the gun from his jeans or the flashlight from inside his jacket, but in the position he was in and with the weight of the Ahuizotl resting on him, it was practically impossible.
Suddenly the creature groaned and moved away quickly. A hand with long claws lay next to Dean. His tail had been docked. Soon its large head rolled on the ground too, its blood splattered on Dean and created a puddle.
"You've always had good timing," the hunter said when he saw Y/N holding a long, sharp, bloodstained blade.
Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731 @impalaslytherin @rudy-the-winged-wolf @dean-winchester-6767 @samanddeansannoyingsis @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse @random-spn-fan @xoxokiaraaxoxo
Series: @stitchintimefan @foxxymunson @sagexcandles @deans-spinster-witch @raisinggray
#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean fic#dean winchester fic#spn fic#supernatural fic#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfic#dean fanfic#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean fanfiction#spn fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction
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Long Story Short | Bob Floyd x Reader
word count: 1018
warnings: arguing, profanity
song pairing: Long Story Short - Taylor Swift
notes: Hey y’all!! This is pt 3 to Wildest Dreams and Exile but Bob’s version! There will be more parts to this which will be linked under Bob in my masterlist. If you’re Team Jake, in my masterlist you will find Cruel Summer which is pt 3 to this but Jake’s version (will be posted Sunday 😅). Hope y’all enjoy!!! Please if you don’t mind, don’t forget to like and reblog and thank you for the previous ones!!! 🫶🏼
Fatefully
I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
It was now Thursday. 3 days since the fight between Bob and Jake and since you told Nat everything. Everyone at work initially tried to find out what happened but when they realized none of you were going to say anything they quit asking. All of the bruises were now turning yellow but yours were hidden under what felt like a pound of concealer.
Maverick had pulled Bob and Jake aside to ask if there was anything he should know but neither men told him anything. You assumed the concealer was working since he never asked you. Everyone continued the exercises without a hitch. The only noticeable difference was that you always headed off home instantly after the squad was dismissed.
Misery
Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
The past few nights you’d woken up screaming. In your nightmares, you couldn't stop the fight and one of the boys always got seriously hurt. It was the same nightmare each night but with a different guy being left in the hospital each time. Bob had called each day since the fight and asked how you were, never pressuring you to talk and apologizing endlessly. Jake on the other hand was radio silent.
And you passed right by
I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides
After you were done with your exercises that morning you headed for the vending machines in the conference room. Regretting it immediately as you shut the door and came face to face with Jake.
“Hey” you whispered as he stood in front of you. His eyes were cold, sending a shiver down your spine. “Excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” he replied and reached for the door handle behind you but the door handle didn’t turn.
And I fell from the pedestal
Right down the rabbit hole
Long story short, it was a bad time
“It’s fucking stuck, of course.” He sighed as he let go of the handle. You turned around to try it and confirmed it was indeed stuck. Most doors at the Academy tended to get stuck due to being so old. “Can we talk?” you asked as you sat on the table across from him. “Well, I don’t think I have much of a choice.” He replied sarcastically.
“Please don’t be like that,” you retorted and he chuckled sarcastically in response.
“What do you want from me, Peach?”
“I just want to fix things or try to.”
“Look, I’ll fix it for you. It was just sex. I don’t care what you do, we’re just teammates.” He said, the Hangman persona clearly at play which you knew he resorted to in difficult conversations.
“Teammates? I thought we were at least friends. Was it really just sex for you?” You asked, afraid you knew the answer because Hangman didn’t care about your feelings even if Jake did.
“Friends? No, I just wanted to fuck you, Peach.” He answered coldly. The tears starting to pool in your eyes.
“What?” You asked, trying to get past Hangman and to Jake.
“Oh Peach, I bet Mickey that I could sleep with you before the summer was over.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Oh darlin’ I sure did. Ask him.” His smug look told you he knew you wouldn’t ask because then you’d have to tell Mickey why you wanted to know.
“Why did you stick around so long? Why did you keep coming back until Bob showed up then? If it was just a bet?” you asked, beginning to stand up from the chair and heading for the door.
“Well honey, to put it simply, I was just bored. I was always going to leave but Bobby here gave me the perfect out. Why’d you think I haven’t answered your calls?
You turned away from him and pushed on the door as you turned the handle. Still stuck. But as you pushed again it opened causing you to lose your balance and land on the floor.
“Peach?” asked Bob who’d been walking down the hall. He extended his hand and helped you up as Hangman walked past you both. You thanked him and turned to walk off but he grabbed your wrist.
“What’s wrong?” His blue eyes scanning your tear stained face. “Not here.” You murmured quietly, leading him outside to your car.
—
Pushed from the precipice
Clung to the nearest lips
Long story short, it was the wrong guy
You had explained everything to Bob as you drove towards the beach. He listened quietly but you noticed his jaw tense when you told him about you and Jake. His fists balling up when you finished off with what Jake had just said in the conference room.
As you both sat down in the sand he reached over and caressed your cheek but stopped quickly as you winced. “Sorry, I forgot about the bruise” he mumbled as you shook your head and gave him a small smile.
“I want to tell you something.” He said, breaking the silence and then he explained that Cobra kissed him the night after you and him broke up. It never went further than a few kisses but he felt you should know.
“Don’t beat yourself up about Hangman. I was out of line. You had all the right to do whatever you wanted.” He said as you looked ahead at the ocean.
“I shouldn’t have and I don’t want you to think I’m coming back to you just because of what he said either.”
No more keepin' score now
I just keep you warm (keep you warm)
And my waves meet your shore
Ever and evermore
“I know. I want you to take your time. Let’s be friends first and we’ll see what happens later.”
“I’d like that,” you responded as you placed your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. Listening to the waves as you did once before with him when he told you he was being deployed.
Long story short, it was a bad time
Long story short, I survived
taglist: @harperdoodle , @weirdothatwritess
click here for the next part!
#top gun fandom#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#Spotify
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Okay for Simon romancing people in Stardew Valley, we gotta evaluate the potential relationship with each of the characters, so, starting with the Bachelors!!
Alex: gives young person vibes, similar to how Sam does, but more then that i just don't think he's Simon's type. Cocky Jock with Gridball on the brain, eh. I don't know they'd have anything to talk about, really.
Elliott: Aesthetically quite nice, though I don't know if I picture Simon as being very appearance focused in partnerships. Very Artsy. Could work, though I think Simon would be pretty neutral towards him initially.
Harvey: Huge Bonus is that he does not appear as young as some of the other Bachelors. I'm also biased, as He and Sam are the only two I've gotten to marriage to personally. (and quite liked both of them) That said...I don't think he has enough Confidence for Simon. He's dedicated to being a doctor, sure, but he's also nervous, with huge amounts of anxiety at times. He talks constantly about the health and safety of the town, but when other topics do come up, particularly in dating, he's easily flustered. As cute as i find him (and his mustache) I don't think Simon would be interested.
Sam: Reads as too young. everything's still about skateboards and music. Not too young for romance, mind, I romanced him, but too young for Simon. does have golden retriever energy though, which is nice, and really loves his younger brother, also a plus. and he does grow a little once married, But I think it would feel weird. Better match for someone Athena or Apollo's age.
Sebastian: Now here's where we get into the fun stuff!! I think Sebastian would NOT like Simon, who in turn would be....very neutral towards the young man, and completely unaware of the one sided rivalry brewing. See, a lot of the problems Sebastian faces are concerns about not being able to establish himself. He's living in his Mom's basement, with his Step Father he dosn't get along well with, and half-sister who he sees as being favored over him. He also feels no one takes his job seriously, (example, in his two heart event we learn Abigail plans to come visit regardless of him working) but one thing he IS is the town's resident Goth, even more so then Abby. So, imagine, just imagine, how frustrating it would be for him when Simon rolls up, Grumpy and Standoffish, Shock of black hair, dressed all in black, hawk perched on his shoulder, already having his own space with a job everyone recognizes and not having to answer to anyone. If we wanted to count who's edgier, Simon's even been to prison. Heck, in this world he might even have prison tats, anything could happen. And Simon? not the least bit concerned about this, or even aware.
Shane: On the one hand, no one should romance Shane. Shane needs a friend, absolutely, but he also needs therapy, and is not ready to commit to marriage. I might feel differently about this if he wasn't returning to drinking after tying the knot, or reacted to you giving him Beer after quitting. On the other hand, they're both deeply troubled, and I absolutely pair deeply troubled fictional characters, both romantically and platonically. (Bobby Lives! Blackbright whomst, on both counts) They could be deeply troubled.....together..........
And that's the Bachelors! Next up, Bachelorettes.....
Abigail: One of her Big character conflicts is growing pains and tension with her Dad. Too young for Simon.
Emily: Too new age-y. I do think they could be friends, though. She'd gift him crystals to "help him absorb negative energy" and he'd get caught in anything she's hung from the ceiling, like dream catchers or beaded curtains. She would be brightly optimistic even as he grouses about life, though wouldn't always appreciate his sarcastic ways.
Haley: Okay hear me out, same energy as Blackmahdi, or NyQuill as I prefer to call it. Sure, it's missing the Ying-Yang color scheme, but consistently arguing? taking pot-shots at each other? both being complex characters with real human motivations underneath their cruel exterior? yeah. It could work. Emily wouldn't be thrilled that that's how they talk to each other though.
Leah: Don't have a reason for it other then I just don't see it. Like, sure, it could happen, but I just don't think it would, you know?
Maru: Simon would be immediately put off by her dad, like that's a big no. Also, she reads fairly young, being at least younger then Seb. also, while he may be reasonably fond of her as a person, (or maybe not, i dunno) I think growing up with Aura may have killed any interest in inventors in general.
Penny: Okay, I know I said Harvey was too timid for Simon, and Penny doesn't exactly exude confidence, but it's not the same. She's a lover of children, who's actively trying to teach the only two children in town. She's aggressively helpful, and trapped in rough circumstances. Also, he could sweep her up in his arms and hold her close and she could gently help him through his anxiety attacks and no I'm not projecting-
Lastly, It's not Romance, but Platonic,
Krobus: No notes. Sweet little guy. Perfection. Simon would share his house with him, as would anyone.
And that's the list!! let me know if you want to hear potential dynamics with the other townsfolk, I may have more thoughts about some of them then others, of course.
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January 2024 Destiel Fic Recs
Here are some of my favourite Destiel fics posted in January 2024. The point of this rec list is to shine light on some new fics that otherwise might go drowing in the ocean of Destiel fics on ao3.
cure of all, this fruit divine by hurtygurdyman
Father, I am sorry my nature does not come easily to me. I know neither how I was made nor why I feel so alone.Cas draws a line in the soil that will one day become the Mississippi River. He looks up at God with a feeling in his gut he doesn’t want to name. spnflash day 4: envy.
This one is very short and poetic. (868 words)
i'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet by 13zepptraxx
“Thanks,” he whispers still, allowing Castiel’s hand to reside on the side of his face. He could shrug it away, and he knows he probably should, because right now he and Cas are tiptoeing along a line set a long time ago, one that they both silently agreed they should never cross. Across this line is uncharted waters, unknown consequences, no semblance of what will become; but it’s important to note that Dean wants to cross that line, all the time, every single day. He yearns so badly for it; so he’s taking this moment, this blurring of the line. Tomorrow they can go back to only looking at one another when the other is looking elsewhere, and stealing touches in the form of healing or in a quick pat on the shoulder that turns into a balled fist as they walk away. Tonight, Dean will allow himself to be weak.
Everything about this fic is just perfect. The fucking hours I spend going through every fic posted in january were worth it just for this one, honestly. (1,642 words)
What a Brave Little Ant You Are by withthekeyisking
The first time man-in-charge Cas shows up at Bobby's place, Dean promptly flips the fuck out and shoots him.By the fourth time, Dean doesn't bother reaching for his gun.
Season 7 godstiel, very interesting dynamic. (2,320 words)
Baker Company Pie by S1nging_Y0u_S0ftly
Castiel remembers a recipe from the Great Depression, and decides to bake it for Dean. It's a water pie, something he'd had a few times as a child and remembers it being edible. It will have to do.
This is a coda fic for Ninety One Whiskey, and if I loved 91w as much as I did, you'll love this one as well. (2,570 words)
Nobody Here But Us Chickens by ImYourHoneyBee
Dean has been trying out endearments inside his head for years. He can’t help it. Some sentences feel wrong on his tongue without one, the unsaid words jumping over themselves to leap out of his mouth like living things. It took him a long time to label it love, but what else could the urge be when Cas makes him feel so much? When Cas is hurt, Dean's gruff, “You good?” needs a comma and a ‘sweetheart’ at the end. Calling out in a dank, dusty storage room for a hand with hauling boxes or needing a clarifying eye on an obscure, potentially magical trinket wants to start with a questioning, “Hey, honey?” He can almost taste it, dripping off his tongue sweet and wanting, casual in its intimacy. Sometimes, Dean slips up. “Good morning, sunshine,” while passing Cas a doctored-up cup of coffee in his favourite mug has become a morning ritual. It’s innocuous enough to get away with if he doesn’t think about it too hard. Sometimes, he tries his best to make it sarcastic, but it inevitably comes out too sincere. Cas hasn't caught on yet, though, and Sam has stopped shooting him questioning side-eyes, so Dean's pretty sure he's pulling it off. The problem is that it’s not enough. It’s never enough.
Very fluffy, they are soo soft in this, I love it. (4022 words)
45 by soft_pine
Dean's 4th, 5th, and 45th birthdays.
The contrast between those birthdays just chef's kiss! (1,158 words)
found it here in your love by nevernevergirl
Dean's birthday doesn't go as planned. Cas is definitely not throwing a tantrum about it. (In which learning to live your life after nearly two decades of saving the actual world is a process. They're doing it together, though.)
Another Dean's birthday fic, I actually read this one his birthday :). (2,779 words)
Don’t Let the Sound (of Your Own Wheels) Drive You Crazy by Eightbitpale
Like a crazy person, like this is new information, Dean thinks: there’s an angel of the lord in my passenger seat. One day I brought him home with me and he hasn’t left since. Cas sighs loudly, and turns a little in his seat to look at Dean head on.
“You’re thinking very loudly.”
“Don’t read my thoughts, Cas”, Dean replies on autopilot, knowing even as he says it that that’s not what the angel meant. There’s a beat of silence between them where Cas just lets the tension hang, knowing all too well that the steely look he’s currently beaming into the side of Dean’s head is enough to make him crack eventually. Dean cracks. “I guess I was just thinking that some shit never changes, y’know?”Its been a long drive. Dean is thinking loudly.
I love the way this one was written, the atmosphere was really special.(3,917 words)
I (22m) am concerned about a coworker (30sm) but am wary of getting too involved in his life by bitterred
A coworker at the Gas-N-Sip that Castiel works at has noticed some weird things about him and decided to write into /r/relationships for advice. "I (22M) have a coworker (mid-30s, I think, M) and this dude (I guess I’ll call him Steve, it's anonymous enough) is more than a little weird. We work at a convenience store/gas station. It’s like he doesn’t understand any pop culture reference, at all, but talks about stuff from ancient history (like, literally, stuff that is in the bible) like he knows it happened for sure."
Short reddit fic about a one of Cas' coworkers perspective on Dean. (492 words)
but honey, most of them are true by Owco
Sam overhears some gossip between two hunters at a bar. He is surprised to learn that it’s all true. Set sometime after Exodus, around Let the Good Times Roll.
A very funny and unique take on the "Sam finds out about Dean and Cas"- trope. (2,996 words)
If you read and enjoy these fics make sure that you leave kudos and/or write a comment! Some of these stories are first fic the author posted on ao3 and they deserve all the love and motivation.
(And please feel free to point out any mistakes I might have made with the links and stuff... hope you enjoy! See you next month for the february recs.)
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Chapter 2-Fare Thee Well
Summary: Sam, Bobby, and Dean are about to face a nemesis more clever and adaptable than any they've encountered thus far. As the world around them becomes increasingly perilous, the resources they've come to rely upon have been stripped away. They will find themselves totally outmatched and outgunned and pushed to their limits, with no one to rely on but each other…that’s when they decided it’s time to bring you back to the team. In the meantime, Sam is literally battling the Devil internally after being roomies with him in Hell.
Castiel has inadvertently released Leviathans while defeating the Archangel, Raphael. With the Apocalypse averted, Castiel was again resurrected by God with new powers after absorbing all the souls of Purgatory, resulting in his powers reaching a level much higher than that of an archangel, but at a high price: the powers that the evil souls granted him had gone to Castiel's head, causing him to proclaim himself as the new God.
Leviathans (Ancient Sea monsters that were the first beasts created by God that harvest humans as a food source) become an imminent threat where Sam and Dean are required to team up with a resurrected Castiel (Angel), Meg (Demon), Crowley (King of Hell), and Kevin Tran the prophet to overthrow the Leviathans and their front-runner Dick Roman with a weapon designed by God.
Author Note: Story starts during Season 2 (2006) then flashes forward to the beginning of Season 7 (2011)
Latin to English translations
*Carpe noctem-Seize the night
~~~~~~~~
Bobby is usually on point when it comes to knowing Sam and Dean. When he told you Dean would get past the fact that you were a witch, he was dead wrong. Dean’s resentment of you outweighed his ability to forgive you and has been giving you the cold shoulder since he found out about you a few days ago.
The air was heavy and awkward when each of you were in the same room. Whenever you try to speak directly to Dean, he’d ignore you and speak to Sam instead, replying with snide and sarcastic responses such as,
“Did you hear something, Sam?” or “I’m sorry, Sam, did you say something?”
Sam would roll his eyes each time while you release an irritated and defeated sigh. Dean was obviously upset, but his petty behavior towards you was getting to be too much… for you and all involved. Until day four of his spiteful performances, Dean ghosted you when you came into the kitchen and attempted to place a piece of pie in front of him, Bobby had enough.
“Alright, Dean, get back in here and have a seat!” Bobby bellowed at him.
Bobby’s voice stopped Dean in his place but remained with his back facing the three of you. Dean turned his head barely looking over his shoulder.
“What is it, Bobby?” Dean asked curtly almost sounding like a growl.
“Dean, we have to clear the air here.” Sam insisted.
Dean crossed his arms and scoffed, still facing away from all of you. Sam and Bobby exchange looks of exasperation. You sat quietly at the table with your arms folded with your eyes on Dean’s back. To Bobby, Sam, and Dean you were sitting there just listening and waiting. What you were actually doing was zeroing in on Dean’s internal movement. His heart rate, pulse, breathing, and his mental activity.
His aura was red hot, and his brain waves were surging with rage and rigor. The heat you sense radiating from him made you sweat in your chair. You zoned in so meticulously on Dean’s emotions you began to feel everything he was feeling. You finally decided to speak up while they were all talking over each other.
“Dean, your blood pressure is skyrocketing, please just take a breath. Sit with us. We can talk this out. Everything.” You proposed.
Dean turned finally acknowledging you.
“Y/N, I don’t need to talk about anything. I’ve heard enough to know that this,” he motioned to the group with his hand, “does not work.” He stated.
“What do you mean by ‘this,’ Dean?” Sam asked. Dean shot a look at him.
“I can’t hunt with someone that is one of the reasons we hunt, Sammy!” Dean yelled.
Bobby and Sam stared back at him.
Dean continued, “First of all, she withheld she was a witch for what? Over 25 years?? Makes me wonder what the hell else she’s been keeping from us.”
He looked at you, “How am I supposed to trust you to have my back…no, all of our backs if we can’t trust you to tell the truth?” He questioned.
You remained calm, not breaking eye contact or cowering back from his hostility. Sam and Bobby watched you with deer in the headlight eyes. Bobby secretly hoped you’d turn Dean into a rabbit or something to show him you don’t have to take his childish crap.
“Dean, this is exactly the reason why your parents didn’t want you to know about me. Because you would lose your shit and punch holes in the wall like you did the other day.” You finally replied.
Dean’s jaw clenched and lips pursed from both anger and embarrassment. He punched a hole through Bobby’s already deteriorating bathroom wall. His hand still bearing bruises and minor cuts. Dean isn’t proud of how he’s been acting out, but this deep-rooted sense of betrayal he felt triggered his inner monster, and he just couldn’t control it. He was angry that you were once someone that brought out the best in him and now the witch that activated his animalistic side.
Dean crossed over to all of you, placed his hands on the table and shifted his weight forward. His icy green eyes burning a hole into your soul.
“Y/N, as of right now, you won’t be hunting with us. I’ve been thinking about it a considerable amount, and weighed all the pros and cons, and it’s just not going to happen, babe.” He mandated.
Sam flitted a look of panic at Dean.
“Dean! Are you serious??” Was all Sam could say.
“Serious as a heart attack.” Dean replied without looking away from you tilting his head.
You move forward, leaning on your elbows meeting Dean halfway across the table without the fear of repercussions of getting too close.
“You don’t really want to do this, Dean.” You say softly but assertively.
Dean exposed a roguish smirk, “Oh, I know I do, babe. Your time with the Winchesters has come to an end.”
He pushed off from the table, slowly backed up, turned on his heel and exited out the front door without another word. You all hear the Impala speed off into the distance.
Sam stared into space with his hand over his mouth gripping his chin. Bobby started chugging his beer.
You stood up gradually, rolled your shoulders back and proceeded to where your jacket hung behind the door. Sam and Bobby watched you intensely, waiting for whatever might happen next. You sense their stares and quietly chuckle.
“You don’t have to gawk at me, you two.” You utter across the room.
Bobby and Sam looked at each other shaking off the shock of what just occurred.
“Y/N, I’m…Don’t think that-“ Sam tried to formulate a sentence, but you cut him off.
“Sam, don’t. It’s fine.” You reassure.
“No, Y/N, it’s not fine. Dean shouldn’t have the final say in this.” Bobby pushed.
“Bobby, it’s just easier this way. Dean will take every opportunity to throw this in my face if I stay. He’s right, we can’t hunt together like this. Someone will get killed. I’m just going to go.” You confirmed.
Sam’s eyes started to get glossy. He knew you would disappear, and that you were clearly capable of doing so. They may never see you again. Something Sam has never fathomed and quite frankly, whole heartedly disagreed with.
“But…where will you go?” Sam asked.
You gather your things into your leather messenger bag, don your jacket and beanie, and shoulder your backpack then turn towards Sam and Bobby as they walked over to meet you at the door. Sam towered over you when he reached you. You look up at him.
“Don’t worry about me, Sam.” You say confidently with a weak smile.
With Sam in close proximity of you, you fuse to his current sensations he was feeling.
“Heartache, hurt, sorrow, desertion…his aura is dark blue and cold. He’s fighting back tears...” You reflect to yourself.
As the intensity of Sam’s sentiment increased, you felt more of his emotions within you. One tear shed from your eye.
“We’re gonna miss you around here, Y/N.” Bobby said.
You look at him affectionately, “Bobby, I will never forget you.” You embrace him in a bear hug, hating the thought of letting go.
“Yeah, Y/N, I…I really don’t think you should go.” Sam urged pushing down tears.
You look back at him with a smile.
“Sam, all of our paths will cross again. Until then, watch out for each other.” You raise your eyebrows at him as if to ask, “Ok?”
Sam nodded and pulled you in for a hug. Sam being 6’4, he practically absorbed you as he held you. Your ear right over his heart, hearing his beat accelerate as you stood there with him. It’s time…
You pull away from Sam and pat him on his chest over his heart.
“*Carpe noctem.” You whisper to him.
He flashed a faint smile at you then looked at the floor so you couldn’t see his tears beginning to fall. You turn and walk through the screen door, and onward to the dirt road. You walk without looking back as Bobby and Sam stood on the porch watching you literally vanish into the fog that was beginning to form.
~~~~~~~~
Five years later…
Dean and Sam are about to face an enemy craftier and more adaptable than anything they’ve encountered thus far as hunters. As the world around them becomes increasingly perilous, the tools and people they've come to rely on have been stripped away. The Winchester brothers have found themselves totally outmatched, outgunned and pushed way beyond their limits, with no one to rely on but each other.
You relocated to Chicago, Illinois after you left Bobby’s house that day. You tried to continue hunting, but you’ve been denied joining other hunters after Dean’s resentment spread like wildfire. He put the word out that you were a turn coat witch and was not to be trusted. His warning hustled through the hunting alliances, and nobody would work with you after that. You decided to apply to a local pub in the downtown area as a bartender and just live your life using your craft to do good for people who seek your help and not you seeking to help others.
You began to sense a shift in the planet’s balances one evening while you were working. Gravity seemed to be heavier, the air was less breathable, and everywhere you looked had a foggy filter to it. Something was wrong…
A new evil was released into the world…
A dense, violent element hovered in the atmosphere…
Something happened. You close your eyes to concentrate on this fierce aura you were sensing, but it was impossible to concentrate on what it could be.
Then suddenly, another sensation pushed into your thoughts. Someone nearby was seeking you out.
You can hear the thoughts of this person looking for you.
“She has to be here.” You hear him think to himself. His presence is very familiar.
You furrow your eyebrows when his presence hits you like a train:
“Sam?” you whisper to yourself.
Your eyes spring open and you gaze out into the room to see Sam Winchester pushing through the crowd looking around like a lost child searching for a responsible adult.
You bee line through the sea of patrons towards him. His back is turned towards you when you reach him. He backs into you almost stumbling, then turns meeting your resting bitch face expression.
“Sam?” You say briskly.
Sam’s mouth fell open, his heart filled with panic. You felt it.
“Uh…Hey, Y/N! What are you doing here??” Sam responded a little too enthusiastically.
You narrow your eyes at him not believing his little ‘what a coincidence’ act.
“Please, Sam, there’s no way you just happen to be in Chicago. Let me guess? Dean is here, too. Don’t tell me where, let me guess. He’s either at the pool tables, or he’s at the bar buying a cheap rail shot for a girl who’s pants he wants to get into.”
You start to scan the busy room for Dean’s presence. It didn’t take too long to locate the glow of Dean’s green eyes. (As kids that’s always how you were able to find him when you played hide and seek).
There he was at the bar hitting on a pretty blonde female, ordering what looked to be two shots of second-rate vodka and a couple of beer chasers.
“I knew it.” You scoffed. “What are you doing here?” You ask turning back to Sam.
Sam looked back at you alarmed.
“Uh…we’re just passing through.” Sam struggled to respond.
You lift an eyebrow at him as you cross your arms.
“Oh yeah?” You shot back unconvinced.
Suddenly you hear another voice behind you,
“Oh good. You found her.” Another familiar voice called out over the music.
“Bobby??” You shrill as you turn around facing a worn looking Robert Singer.
You looked back at Sam with a ‘care to explain?’ expression.
“Found me? So, you were looking for me.” You confirmed.
Sam tightened his jaw in frustration as he looked beyond you at Dean who just walked up.
“Oh…Guess you didn’t tell her yet, huh?” Dean asked after seeing your irate expression.
Sam shook his head.
“Tell me what?” You snapped with arms still crossed.
Dean and Sam looked at each other, both letting out a long breath before looking back at you.
~~~~~~~~
After you finished your shift, Sam, Dean and Bobby accompanied you to your apartment just above the bar you worked at. You made a pot of coffee since the rest of this evening was sure to be a long one with this sudden appearance by the Winchester brothers. You give them each their own coffee mug with all the coffee condiments they may have needed while Sam explained why they came looking for you.
You massage your temples after Sam completed his story.
“Sooo let me see if I’m understanding you right: Your friend, Cas, unintentionally released Leviathans from Purgatory and in the process swallowed them to defeat the Archangel, Raphael?”
“Yes.” Bobby responded.
“Right. And this Cas guy is traveling through the public water supply raising cane with a Leviathan multiple personality disorder.” You continue.
“Sounds like you got the gist of it, there, sweetheart.” Dean stated condescendingly.
You slowly bring your gaze to Dean. Your eyes still piercing and contempt rising inside, then your lips curl into a mischievous smile. You’re amused by his boldness since it was his fault you left in the first place. Now here he is, seeking your help to battle mythological sea monsters. You look at Sam.
“I’m sorry, Sam, did you say something?” You ask him. Sam rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling.
Dean chuckled sarcastically, “Ok I see how it’s going to be.” He said walking over to your fridge finding your beer stash and helping himself to two bottles.
~~~~~~~~
#supernatural#supernatural x female reader#dean winchester x female reader#sam winchester x female reader#sam and dean#dean winchester#sam winchester#bobby singer#jensen ackles#jared paladecki#jim beaver#witch#witches#witchcraft#castiel#misha collins#chicago
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Sam Kiszka Sees God While Eating Spicy Wings | A Hot Ones Parody
Words: 7.9k
Warnings: language, drinking, mentions of incontinence, just overall nastiness, milk
Synopsis: Sam Kiszka goes on Hot Ones and experiences an exceptionally devastating fall from grace
Notes: thank you @jmkho for reminding me how awful it is to rub your eyes after touching something spicy!!
_______________________________________
“Hey, what’s going on everybody!” Sean Evans smiled wide at the camera. “From First We Feast, I’m Sean Evans and you’re watching Hot Ones. It’s the show with hot questions and even hotter wings.”
Across the table, Sam was sitting with his hands folded in his lap, patiently waiting for his introduction.
“Today I’m joined by Sam Kiszka of the rock group, Greta Van Fleet, who is releasing their third studio album, Starcatcher, on July 21st.” Sean turned from the camera to acknowledge Sam. “It’s great to meet you, Sam.”
“Likewise, Sean,” Sam called back. With a grunt, he leaned over the table to extend a hand to Sean to shake. Sean seemed thrown off by the gesture, but scooted forward in his stool to grab Sam’s hand and give it a firm shake. “I’m starving, I could really go for some wings right now,” Sam joked.
“How do you handle hot things?” Sean leaned back in his chair and studied Sam, as if sizing him up. From the look on his face, it seemed like Sean was skeptical that Sam’s thin stature would be able to handle the scorching heat of the hot sauces that were coming his way.
“I’m all for it,” Sam waved Sean off. “I’m into this kind of shit, permanently damaging my taste buds and destroying my stomach for days on end. This is what I do to feel alive.”
“I feel like you’re being sarcastic.”
“A little bit,” Sam chuckled. “But I do like a bit of spice to my meals. I’m the guy in my family who needs to put a little Tabasco on everything.”
“Some of these are gonna be a step up from Tabasco,” Sean warned him. “Are you ready to go?”
“Just about,” Sam replied. He gently pushed the full glass of milk in front of him onto Sean’s side of the table and then hoisted a 24 pack of Corona Lite in front of him. Sean watched with interest as Sam tore into the cardboard casing and retrieved a bottle, pulling off the top with his teeth. “Want one?” Sam asked.
“Sure?” Sean guessed. Sam started to open a second bottle with his teeth, but someone from the crew quickly forced a bottle opener into his hand before he could.
“Oh, thanks?” Sam asked, looking around to see who had given him the instrument. He didn’t understand the point of bottle openers when teeth literally exist but, because he was on film, he popped off the cap like a normal person and slid the drink to Sean.
“Do you find that beer takes the edge off of the spiciness?” Sean asked. Sam shrugged back at him.
“I just wanted an excuse to crack into that 24 pack,” Sam replied after shoving a lime into his drink and taking a thoughtful gulp. “So, what’s the first level?”
1. The Classic - Chili Maple (Hot Ones Hot Sauce) - 1,600 Scoville Heat Units
“We’ve got The Classic Chili Maple sauce coming in at 16,000 Scoville Heat Units,” Sean shared. Sam stared down at the vegan wing in front of him and gave it a testing poke.
“Say,” Sam had to ask, “has anyone ever tapped out after one wing? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely gonna make it to ten, I just want to know what I’m up against here.”
“We’ve had a few guests definitely not finish the interview,” Sean replied with a grin. “DJ Khaled and Ricky Gervais had a pretty rough time. Not as bad as Bobby Lee though.”
A few of the crew members groaned behind the cameras, which made Sam perk up.
“What happened to Bobby?” he leaned forward to conspire with Sean.
“Let’s just say his body rejected the wings pretty harshly,” Sean slowly thought out his words. “From the back end.”
“Fuck,” Sam choked out and then took another sip from his bottle. “Well god, I sincerely hope that doesn’t happen to me.”
“For the sake of me and the crew, I hope so too,” Sean said. Then, he held up his wing and Sam followed suit.
“Cheers,” Sam said with a cheeky smile, raising his wing up to Sean. They both took a hearty bite and immediately Sam groaned outwards. “This is the shit,” he said with his mouth full. “It’s so sweet and tangy.”
Sean watched as Sam proceeded to devour the rest of the wing, to the point where the sauce formed a ring around his mouth and covered all of his fingers.
“Do you want a napkin?” Sean let out a laugh. Sam waved away a crew member that was trying to hand him a paper napkin.
“Nah ah,” he said, food still in his mouth. “I’m saving all of this for later.”
“Okay, Sam,” Sean tried to regain Sam’s attention, “I do have some questions.”
“Fire away,” Sam motioned for him to go with one hand while he licked the other.
“So, legend has it, your older twin brothers, Jake and Josh, would drag you down to the basement when you were in grade school to play with them. At what point did you realize that music was something you wanted to do, and not just something your brothers were forcing you to do?”
“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna ask me about Frankenmuth,” Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. “Every single interview, I swear, we have to talk about living in a small Bavarian town in Michigan with the world’s largest Christmas store.”
“I’ll take that question off my list,” Sean joked, pretending to scribble something out on a paper next to him. “No, I promise you’ll get some questions you haven’t heard before.”
“Hot wings and new questions, now we’re talking!”
Sam continued to lick at his fingers, but then shot back upright when he remembered that he hadn’t answered the question.
“Oh, uh, being the youngest sibling has its trials and tribulations. I feel like I was fortunate that Jake and Josh paved the way for me, in a sense, setting expectations and showing me the right and wrong things to do. I’ve always admired them.” Sam stopped and whispered to Sean, “Actually, cut that out, I don’t want them knowing that, it’ll feed into their already massive egos.”
“Cut that part out,” Sean turned to call at the producer.
“My parents raised my siblings and I in a musical house: my dad plays blues with some local guys, my grandpa is in the Polka Hall of Fame, so I feel like I have these musical genes coursing through my veins. Jake was the first one to really take music seriously and, of course, anything he does, Josh will follow suit since the two are practically inseparable. Sure, when I was younger there were other things that I wanted to do than practice for eight hours straight in the basement, but it is something I pretty quickly grew to love. I enjoy building things, and creating music is a fascinating experiment, trying to connect with people sonically. I think from a young age I recognized the value of human connection and wanted to keep pursuing that.”
“So, going back to the musical genes, it’s almost like you were meant to do this,” Sean clarified with Sam.
“God, that makes me sound conceited, doesn’t it?” Sam scrunched up his face at the thought.
“Not necessarily,” Sean tried to assure him. “It just means that you’re on the track that feels right to you, which is something I’d hope everyone can accomplish.”
“That’s a good way to look at it,” Sam nodded. He thoughtfully licked the remaining sauce off his fingers.
“You look ready for another wing,” Sean observed.
“Hell fucking yeah I am,” Sam said.
2. Banjee Ranch - Shaquanda’s - 6,200 Scoville Heat Units
“This one looks good,” Sam commented while he took in the mustard-colored sauce. “I can see the herbs in there, I already know the flavor is going to explode in my mouth.”
Sam dug in and, once more, looked like he was experiencing heaven. Sean cut in before Sam started moaning again.
“Last year you were featured on a song with Stealing Oceans and Scott Avett called ‘Stars on the Ceiling.’ On this track you bust out a pretty impressive guitar solo, which I heard you came up with on the spot. How did your brother, Jake, feel about that?”
“He didn’t believe me when I first showed him the song and told him I was the guitar,” Sam chuckled. “He called me a shithead.”
“Was he a little threatened?” Sean guessed.
“He knows he’s better than me, he’s got nothing to worry about,” Sam shook his head. “He did have a few pointers for me afterwards about different tones and effects I could have used to make the track sound more complex, but I’m really happy with how it turned out. At the end of the day it’s just a fun, jazzy, funky love song, which I think the world could use more of.”
“How do you feel about dipping your toes in other genres?” Sean asked after enjoying another bite of his own wing. “Jazz and funk stray pretty far from Greta Van Fleet’s sound.”
“I’m all for it,” Sam couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. “I mean, even within Greta Van
Fleet, sure, we’re a rock band at our core, but if you compare our sound from our first EP to now, there’s a massive difference. Yes, we aren’t producing a hip hop album or country or something like that, but we really enjoy experimenting with sound and blending genres to create something innovative and attention-grabbing.”
Sam seemed content with his reply since, when met with a second of silence, he finished off the rest of his wing and, to Sean’s dismay, let out a long, deep groan. As if that wasn’t out of pocket enough, Sam wiped the last part of his wing around his mouth, gathering the sauce from the first round to enjoy. By the time he was done, his face resembled that of a toddler after an especially messy meal.
“This is a walk in the park,” Sam told Sean. “I’m having an absolute blast.”
“You’re doing great so far,” Sean extended a compliment where it was due. “You’ve still got a ways to go though, don’t get too cocky.”
“You sound like my bandmate, Danny,” Sam chuckled.
3. Cadejo - Donis - 15,000 Scoville Heat Units
“Are you ready for a step up on the heat scale?” Sean asked as a crew member placed a new wing in front of Sam. Sam grabbed the hot sauce bottle from the line in front of him and inspected it.
“Habanero? Now we’re talking.”
Sean gaped while Sam dumped a hearty pile of the sauce on his plate and then, with his sticky fingers, rolled his wing in it so it covered the entire surface, not missing a single spot.
“You don’t have to do that,” Sean tried to talk Sam down, but his competitiveness had entirely taken over.
“I think I do, Sean,” Sam looked up at the host with a surprising amount of intensity. Sean had to take a split second to ponder if he had made a massive mistake letting Sam on his show, but he cleared his throat and returned to his list of questions while Sam practically inhaled his sauce-drenched wing, entirely unaffected by the heat.
“So, Justin Bieber,” Sean started.
“Oh boy,” Sam let out a loud laugh. “Justin Fucking Bieber. Has he ever been on this show?”
“Nope.”
“Damn, I was gonna ask how well he did.”
“We’ll get him on here and you can come back and have a wing-off.”
“You think I’m joking, but I’ll be there,” Sam stared Sean down. “We have a lot of unfinished business.”
“Speaking of which,” Sean cut in, “you claim that he stole your birkenstocks at Coachella back in 2018.”
“He did,” Sam looked directly into the camera to confirm.
“It’s been five years and I’m assuming he hasn’t given them back to you?”
“Not even a sorry note,” Sam frowned.
“What would it take for Justin Bieber to earn your forgiveness?”
Sam leaned back and let out a deep exhale, looking lost in thought. The camera slowly zoomed in on his face, tracking his eyes that seemed to be searching every part of the ceiling.
“This is a hard question,” Sam admitted. “My mom always encouraged forgiveness. She said that resentment was more of a punishment for the person feeling that emotion than the one it was directed towards. The problem is, I really liked those birks. I mean, they were my first pair: we’d been through a lot. So, I guess the rational answer is I would forgive him if he gave them back to me and they were in the same condition as when he took them. I’m sure he has some nice cars too, though. If he let me take one of those I would probably forgive him.”
“Are you a big car guy?” Sean asked.
“I am,” Sam nodded. “I mean, I have one car that I drive around, I don’t need to be that guy that owns 17 cars and only drives one or two of them a handful of times a year. But I think if Justin offered me a lamborghini or a ferrari, I would probably take it.”
“You and me both,” Sean laughed.
“I’d drive it to the grocery store, just doing mundane errands, going 25 mph like a law-abiding citizen. It would drive all the car enthusiasts out there insane.”
“I respect safe driving,” Sean nodded.
“Safe driving is cool driving,” Sam agreed.
“Do you like any Justin Bieber songs?” Sean slipped in another question.
Sam looked on the brink of snorting, but stopped himself short so he wouldn’t offend anyone.
“His music is, uh, not quite for me,” Sam tried to be as civil as possible without expressing his intense disdain for pop music. “I respect what he does and I will admit that he’s a talented musician, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to listen to any of his albums.”
“Fair enough,” Sean shrugged.
“I feel like I’m in the hot seat,” Sam joked. “I’ll go home and find that people on Twitter canceled me for having bad taste or something.”
“I think you’ll be okay,” Sean reassured him.
4. Los Calientes - Hot Ones Hot Sauce - 36,000 Scoville Heat Units
“Another Hot Ones sauce!” Sam exclaimed when he saw the next bottle. “You guys do a great job with branding, this is such a niche market.”
“We were lucky the idea blew up,” Sean smiled. “You’ll find that this one has a lot of flavor packed in with a punchy blend of sweet, tart, and spicy. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Sam grinned. He poured the sauce onto his wing and then shook a drop out onto his tongue. “Oh hell yeah,” he said, not breaking a single sweat.
“We have a segment on this show called ‘Explain That Gram,’” Sean shared with Sam. Sam’s face contorted into a look of worry. “We look at your Instagram and you explain some of the photos that need a little extra context. First off, you look really concerned, why?”
“I don’t remember what I have posted on there,” Sam admitted.
“Nothing too incriminating, don’t worry,” Sean told Sam as he grabbed a laptop from one of the crew members and pulled up the first image. “Your Instagram is highly stylized, it looks like you put a lot of thought into it: where did the 3 thematic posts idea come from?”
“I started doing that a few years back,” Sam tried to remember, “I’m pretty sure my now ex-girlfriend introduced me to the idea that you need to maximize the formatting of Instagram to make a page that deviates from the norm while looking pleasing to the eye. I’m not a huge social media fan, but there is something really satisfying about using that three column setup to create a string of posts that, as you scroll through them, almost look like they’re happening in chapters. It just feels more put together, I guess.”
“It was nice to look through, I agree with you there,” Sean said. “I’ll need to take some notes.”
“Hey, there you go, Sean,” Sam beamed.
“Let’s look at this photo first,” Sean said, turning the laptop in Sam’s direction.
Sam leaned forward and squinted at the photo of his homemade pickles.
“Mmm,” Sam licked his lips. “That was a good batch.”
“Pandemic hobby? Sean raised an eyebrow.
“You got it,” Sam nodded. “Being stuck inside for that amount of time was like an out of body experience. After a week, I don’t know if this happened to you too, but I started to feel like I was in The Yellow Wallpaper or something. So I tried to dodge that feeling with homemade pickles. There was an article in a magazine I get monthly and I figured, eh what the hell? It didn’t take that many ingredients, I like pickles, the science behind food fascinates me, it all felt right.”
“Do I see some chilis and garlic in there?” Sean asked as he studied the photo closer.
“I put a bunch of shit in there,” Sam laughed. “I love experimenting with things. You know, it’s really stunning how many flavors a cucumber can absorb when it’s in brine. It’s like the sponge of the food world.”
“I’ve never heard someone speak so fondly about pickles,” Sean mused.
“I appreciate the little things in life,” Sam said. He took another sip of his beer, finishing it off, and nearly choked on the lime that had popped back out of the bottle and into his mouth. Sean lurched up like he was ready to give Sam the heimlich, but Sam spit the remains of the lime out onto the table before he could. Sam coughed. “Whooo lord, that was a close one.”
“Are you good to keep going?” Sean looked concerned.
“Absolutely,” Sam brightened up. “You got another Instagram photo?”
Sean still seemed a bit worried, but he opened the next photo.
“Oh man,” Sam snorted, “I should have seen that one coming.”
“There’s a lot to explain here,” Sean agreed.
Sam looked closer at the old photo of him with “Fuck” written on his forehead while he stood in front of an impressive fire.
“I really don’t know if there is even any context to go with this.”
“I appreciate that you tagged the Frankenmuth Fire Department as the location.”
“Oh yeah, we definitely weren’t burning shit at the fire department,” Sam declared, but then widened his eyes and turned away from the camera.
“I’ve got one last post that I want to highlight and then we can move onto the next sauce. There’s a short video of you and your bandmate, Daniel Wagner, out in what looks like the desert, wrestling with a snake?”
“Okay, this is actually a funny story,” Sam clapped his hands together. “Basically we were doing the whole tour bus thing on one of our earlier North America tours and we were trying to hit as many national parks as we could. Daniel went into this gift shop at the Grand Canyon and secretly bought this fake snake because, you know, he thought it would be hilarious to prank my brothers and I. While we were at Monument Park, which is on the border of Arizona and Utah and absolutely stunning, Danny pulled this big old rubber snake out of nowhere and started to fight with it.”
“You booked it in that video.”
It was a really realistic looking snake,” Sam exclaimed. “I like to keep my distance from things that slither.” Sam started to mess around with his wing but snapped his head back up to look at Sean. “There’s a reason why there’s no audio in that video,” Sam added. “I was swearing like a sailor. There were a bunch of kids nearby too, I don’t know how we didn’t get thrown out of the park.”
“You’re just living the rocker lifestyle,” Sean kidded, which earned a hearty laugh from Sam. “Thanks for your insights, I’m sure quite a few peoples’ burning questions have been resolved after that segment, ‘Explain the Gram.’”
“Happy to help,” Sam continued to laugh.
5. Ghost Pepper Hot Sauce - Brooklyn Delhi - 39,000 Scoville Heat Units
“We’re in the spicier terrain now,” Sean shared.
“Ah yes,” Sam bounced in his seat. “This is the place I like to call home.”
“Coming in at 39,000 Scoville heat units, this one relies on the punch delivered from India’s famed ghost pepper, bhut jolokia, which provides a long-lasting heat.”
“I love it,” Sam rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. “It’s been a while since I had a ghost pepper. I used to pop those puppies all the time just to feel something.”
“I don’t think we’ve ever had a guest quite like you on this show,” Sean admitted.
“I love expanding my palate,” Sam shared. “And knowing my boundaries when it comes to spicy food. Right now I’m pretty sure that boundary doesn’t exist.”
“Considering you’ve been chugging Coronas like they’re water and I haven’t seen a single tear form in your eyes, you might be right.”
“I’m just built different. I also used to eat fire ants as a kid, that might be helping me out too.”
“Did you really?” Sean looked beyond disturbed.
“No,” Sam laughed at how gullible the host was. “Fire ants are native to the southern states, they haven’t made the great migration quite that far up north yet.”
“You could have had me fully convinced,” Sean shared.
“I’m not gonna crack at all while eating this,” Sam promised as he pointed down to his wing. Sean held off on biting into his wing so he could concentrate on Sam’s facial expression as he pulled a large chunk of fake meat off and chewed it around. His face remained as stoic as a marble statue.
“No emotion at all.”
The camera pulled closer to Sam to show that his face was blank, not a single expression creeping out. He gulped the food down and let out a large burp.
“The seal of approval!” he pumped his fist.
“Now, Sam,” Sean said after finishing his wing, “You’ve said before that one of your favorite hobbies is finding vintage clothing.”
“Yup,” Sam nodded, “I love that shit.”
“Your outfits for your Dreams in Gold tour, which just wrapped up recently, were some of the most detailed pieces I’ve ever seen. How do you and your team come up with the vision for your stage outfits, and what is the intersection going on there between clothing and your music?”
“Greta Van Fleet is a band that loves symbols,” Sam replied. “Take one look at our album, The Battle At Garden’s Gate, and I think you’ll get it.”
While he talked, Sam made a show of pulling his shoes off under the table with his feet and wiggling out of his socks. Sean made a face at the stench that was coming from beneath the rounded table but then tried to maintain a poker face while he listened to Sam’s response.
“For this tour, we all agreed that every aspect of our show needed to contribute to a larger message. My brothers and I are all avid fans of film and, after watching enough movies, you start to realize how each costume is built with purpose. Pair that philosophy with my love for clothes and how they serve as a means of personal expression, and I became the largest supporter of teaming with a talented costume designer to prepare our outfits for the tour. Before our Strange Horizons tour we were wearing shit from thrift stores. I mean, it was fun to hunt around the day of a show for something to wear on stage that night, but nothing looked coherent. With our Dreams In Gold tour, we really took the first big step to define who we are as a band, and what we’re trying to achieve with our music. Jake and I have a lot of swords on our pieces, made by the ever exceptional Amber Doyle. We threw a lot of ideas at her, and she did a great job compressing them all into coherent designs.”
“That sleeve you’ve got on your left arm is something else.”
“Thanks, yeah, I started using that sleeve design during our Strange Horizons tour. I was really interested in the designs of webbing and wings and just the overall movement that they can bring to a stationary piece. Amber really liked the design when we came to her, and she promised she would keep that look consistent for my new pieces.”
“Does the wing ever get in the way of your playing?”
“Amber’s a genius,” Sam grinned, “She managed to design it in a way where I hardly noticed it was there. That is, unless I wanted to show it off.”
“Are you and your bandmates back at the drawing board now, planning your new designs for your upcoming tour, Starcatcher?”
“I can’t reveal too much,” Sam wagged a finger at Sean. “That was a good try. But I can share that we’re branching out in a new direction. These costumes have become an integral part of our show, and they aren’t going away any time soon. The challenging part is finding that sweet spot where we can wear things that look visually stunning and nuanced while maintaining some level of comfort so we can perform to our best ability. We’re testing the limits now, and I’m excited to see what the reception is to our new pieces. It should be good.”
“I wish I could have snuck an answer out of you on that last one,” Sean slapped his hand down on the table in joking frustration.
“You won’t have to wait too long for an answer,” Sam tried to comfort him. “Our tour starts in July, so you only need to wait a few more months. I am really looking forward to seeing how fans will dress at our shows for this tour,” Sam thoughtfully added. “They take this fashion thing as seriously as I do - you should see some of the outfits, these fans look like they should be up on stage with us. They’ll make replicas of our stage outfits with their own hands. It’s something else.”
“You’ve got an artistic vision that people can get behind,” Sean commended Sam.
“It’s an exciting thing,” Sam nodded back with a twinkle in his eye.
6. Mushroom Mayhem - Torchbearer Sauces - 68,000 Scoville Heat Units
“You’re vegan, right?” Sean asked Sam.
“Yes sir,” Sam nodded.
“I think you’ll appreciate this next sauce. It’s got a blend of mushrooms to provide a hint of umami, which contributes to an overall meaty flavor. But this sauce is about as vegan as they come.”
Sam licked his lips.
“Yummy yummy in my tummy.” He stopped for a second and reflected on what had just come out of his mouth. “Sorry,” his face turned scarlet, “that was weird.”
“It was like you regressed for a second there,” Sean commented. “We’re past the halfway mark now, this is where things start to get a bit intense.”
“Finally,” Sam remarked. He took a hefty bite and then chased it down with his second bottle of Corona. “Okay,” he said after clearing his throat, “that one did have a bit of a punch.”
“The cracks are starting to show,” Sean teased him, which Sam responded to by rapidly shaking his head.
“Nah ah,” Sam protested. “I took that one like a champ.”
To prove himself to Sean, Sam took the bottle and, once more, shook some of the sauce onto his tongue. Sean watched him with his mouth slightly ajar as Sam swallowed it down and patted his stomach.
“Delicious.”
“You can take that home,” Sean motioned towards the bottle. “We let all of our guests take whichever hot sauces they like best, but man, at this point I think you need to just take all of the bottles.”
“Oh good, I’m glad I don’t have to sneak these out under your nose,” Sam nodded. Sean pretended like he didn’t hear that comment and returned back to his questions.
“You and your band released a series of short Masterclass parodies back in 2021. I have to know, what inspired the character, Cal A Bungah?”
“I’m so glad I can finally address this,” Sam sounded genuine. “Cal A Bungah was the character that started it all: I had all the guys over and we were in the kitchen, making some appetizers and I just pulled this cocky chef character out of my ass like it was nothing. There’s an inside joke among my friends and family that I can’t cook for shit which, I don’t know about that, but I decided to roll with it. So was talking this big game about being a celebrity chef and knowing everything and how meat eaters like Gordon Ramsey are going to rot in hell, and Josh was like, ‘dude, we should make a video about this.’”
“How much of that video was improv?” Sean asked.
“All of it,” Sam grinned. “They put me in that goofy chef outfit, said ‘rolling’ and I just went to town.”
“I have a few rapid fire questions for Cal, if he’d be willing to answer,” Sean looked Sam down. Sam beamed at the idea and let out a loud laugh when one of the crew members passed him a chef hat. Sam pulled it on over his long, brown locks, and gave Sean a dorky smile.
“How do I look?”
“Professional,” Sean replied. “Now, Cal, do your skills extend any farther than cutting veggies and making a margarita?”
“I can’t believe you would ask someone with this much skill and prowess such a demeaning question,” Sam balked. “Pass.”
Sean let out a short laugh and returned to his list.
“What’s the problem with squash?”
“There’s no problem with squash,” Sam said as he folded his hands in front of him. “That reaction I had on film was a raw response to something larger than life. When I saw that squash, you know, actually held it in my hands, I felt like I was holding a part of God. I think you’d be rendered speechless too if you went through the same thing.”
“Fair enough. What makes the perfect margarita?”
“I’ll show you,” Sam answered. Sean called out in shock as Sam leaned under the table and grabbed a lime, some tequila, triple sec orange liqueur, ice, salt, and a cocktail shaker.
“You were keeping all of that under there?” Sean sounded stunned as he looked under the table to see if Sam was hiding any other secrets.
“Dave Grohl got to bring drinks on here, why can’t I?”
Sam twisted the lid off of the tequila and dumped a generous amount into the shaker before taking a swig of the booze straight from the bottle.
“Just have to make sure it’s not poisoned,” Sam explained himself. “The key to a perfect margarita is measuring with your heart. I don’t know what one fluid ounce looks like and, at this point, I’m too afraid to ask. So you just kinda eyeball it and, when it looks like enough, you stop.”
“A true master of your craft,” Sean had to quip.
“Add a splash of triple sec,” Sam continued, and then squeeze some lime juice in there for good measure. Then you shake the shit out of it.”
Sam stood from his seat after securing the lid over the cocktail shaker and made a show of moving around the set, shaking the drink like he was a part of the rhythm section for a fast-tempo song. When he was satisfied with his work, he grabbed a highball glass from seemingly nowhere and placed it over Sean’s head, in front of him. Sean gazed up in awe as Sam let the stream of margarita flow from the shaker down into his glass.
“Rub some lime and salt around the rim and then give it a sip,” Sam coached Sean. “And you better tell me that you just had the best goddamn margarita of your life.”
Sean followed Sam’s commands and brought the cup up to his lips, taking a cautious sip. He smacked his lips a few times, let out a small choke, and failed to hide a grimace.
“It’s great, right?” Sam asked over his shoulder while he fixed himself his own drink.
“It’s, something?” Sean failed to find the right words. Sam didn’t seem to notice how much pain he was putting Sean through since he happily took a gulp from his own cup and then settled back in his seat. “This is fun, I’m having fun,” Sam decided. Sean squirmed around in his seat.
7. Dreams of Calypso - Angry Goat Pepper Co - 101,000 Scoville Heat Units
“Oh, this sauce is gonna go well with my drink,” Sam called out in glee as he observed the next bottle. “Tropical fruit and a fucking hot pepper? Now we’re talking!”
“Is your stomach made of metal or something?” Sean asked after quickly passing his barely touched margarita off to a crew member to dump down the sink.
“It’s all about your state of mind,” Sam explained. “If you tell yourself you’re going to feel pain, you’re going to feel pain. But if you tell yourself that you’ve had worse, you’re going to be fine. The brain is a powerful organ, it can make or break you.”
“Let’s see that philosophy in action,” Sean encouraged Sam as he motioned down to the wing. Sam grabbed it with a look of determination and tore into it.
“Not so bad,” Sam announced as he chewed. “You can hardly even notice the kick.”
“Right,” Sean stared at Sam in awe. “So, you’ve rubbed a lot of elbows with some pretty big names in the music industry since you first started off, namely Elton John and Metallica. Are there any groups or musicians that you would want to either collaborate or tour with?”
Sam started to think, but quickly got distracted by the flow of mucus that was starting to pool out of his nostrils. He tried to be covert about it, since he desperately didn’t want Sean to think he couldn’t handle spicy foods, so he quickly rubbed his nose. All that did was spread the snot across his face.
“Well,” Sam grunted out, trying to act cool, “If John Denver was still alive, I’d have to say him.”
To Sam’s dismay, even more snot was coming out of his nose, to the point where it was dripping down onto his shirt. Sam attempted to ignore it; maybe it was something the camera wouldn’t be able to pick up.
Across the table, Sean gaped at the boogers flooding out of Sam’s nostrils like a waterfall. While Sam blabbed on and on about all of the jazz and blues musicians that he admired and wanted to tour with, all Sean could do was study his nose in wonder, guessing when the flow would finally stop.
It was a relief that one of the crew members couldn’t take it anymore, since she passed a napkin off to Sam and, under her breath, begged him to wipe his schnoz. In grim defeat Sam let out a loud honk as he snorted into the tissue, and then wiped at his face, clearing the mucus away.
“The short answer is John Denver, George Gershwin, or Howlin Wolf if they were still alive. Taj Mahal would be exciting though too.”
“I think you need another wing,” Sean was ready to test Sam’s limits. Although Sam’s confidence was visibly wavering, he nodded his head.
“Bring it.”
8. Evolution Hot Sauce - Da Bomb - 135,000 Scoville Heat Units
“Still doing good?” Sean checked in with Sam. He liked to give his guests the opportunity to tap out before they shit themselves.
“I’m fantastic,” Sam replied with certainty, his cockiness returning.
“This one usually slows people down.”
“We’ll see about that,” Sam nodded down at the wing. In comparison to his previous large bites, Sam took a more inquisitive chew and was quick to gulp it down. Suddenly Sam’s eyebrows raised and his cheeks started to flush. He let out a short gasp and popped the top few buttons of his shirt. Sean watched him in glee, relieved that his strange guest was finally starting to be torn down by the scorching heat.
“This is a walk in the park,” Sam gasped out, his eyes welling with tears. He downed the rest of his margarita, blew his nose into his hands, and then downed the remainder of his second bottle of Corona. As Sam heaved out gasps of air, Sean cheerfully returned to his questions.
“You caused quite a stir amongst your fans with your impromptu visit to New York. What inspired the trip, and what touristy places are you planning on taking your bandmates when you’re back in September to play at Madison Square Garden?”
“What spices did they use in this thing?” Sam heaved between gags, “stuff out of Satan’s asshole?”
“Scorpion peppers,” Sean explained. “They’re pretty hot.”
“No kidding,” Sam coughed. Even though he was fighting for his life, his hands trembling at the overwhelming nature of the spice, he considered Sean’s question. “I wanted to go to New York,” he answered between coughs. After grabbing another bottle of Corona and chugging it, Sam wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and continued. “Plane tickets were cheap, our management thought it might be a funny gimmick for me to announce our world tour in an unconventional way that was sure to get people talking. Um, Danny wants to go to the Central Park Zoo, I think Jake would enjoy the Hard Rock Cafe. Josh probably wants to go to Rockefeller Plaza.”
“All great spots,” Sean agreed.
“Shit, I feel so alive,” Sam groaned outwards.
“Are you okay?” Sean raised an eyebrow.
“This is great, I have health insurance, it’s all good,” Sam rambled, starting to sound incoherent. He brought the Corona back to his lips and tilted it back, accidentally splashing half the bottle down the front of his button up shirt. “Aw man,” Sam pouted down at his mess. Within seconds, a new napkin was in his hands, which he used to dab at his wet spots. “I haven’t stepped in any human shit yet on the subways,” Sam shared while he continued to clean himself, even though Sean hadn’t asked.
“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen human shit on the subway?” Sean replied.
“You’re not looking hard enough,” Sam answered back.
“Are you feeling ready to move on to the next wing?” Sean changed the topic.
“I’m feeling like I could get another wing in my mouth, Sean,” Sam said.
9. Taco Vibes Only - Butterfly Bakery of Vermont - 638,000 Scoville Heat Units
“We’re two away from the end,” Sean congratulated Sam.
“Nearly to the finish line,” Sam nodded before flushing out his nose into a tissue again. “I promise you, the nose blowing is a new one,” Sam continued. “This has literally never happened to me before, so I’m really curious what the hell you’re feeding me.”
“Hot Wings,” Sean stated flatly. Sam squinted back at Sean, not buying what he was saying. It wasn’t often that Sam got knocked off his high horse.
“This sauce uses a simplistic recipe so the peppers can really shine through,” Sean recited. “It features just lime juice-”
“Like the margaritas,” Sam cut in.
“Right,” Sean nodded. “And cumin and coriander to enhance the natural tangy and earthy notes.”
“If I can taste anything other than fucking hot on this wing, I’m gonna impress myself,” Sam said.
“It’s mostly so the viewers know what you’re dealing with,” Sean explained.
“Well,” Sam looked across to Sean, and then into the camera. “Here goes nothing.” Sam did the sign of the cross for good luck and then bit into the wing.
“Ho,” he almost immediately rasped, staring off into nothingness. “Hooooooooo hoooooooooo.”
Sean chuckled as Sam started to breathe like he was giving birth. The tears were back in his eyes, and they were pouring down his cheeks so they splotched on the table cloth and Sam’s pants. “Agh,” Sam was making incoherent noises, and then he suddenly stopped fidgeting and sat upright, staring directly above Sean.
“Oh shit,” Sam murmured, and then clawed at his tongue for a brief second.
“What?” Sean asked, whirling around on his stool to try and catch a glimpse of what Sam was staring at, his mouth wide open. “What is it?”
“God,” Sam whispered. “I see God. And he looks like a hot wing.”
Sean stared at Sam.
“Hello God,” Sam whispered.
“I don’t think he’s okay,” Sean turned to the producer. “Maybe we should stop here.”
“What’s that, God?” Sam asked louder. “Eat another wing? Sure thing, boss.”
“Maybe don’t do that,” Sean tried to put a hand up to Sam, but it was already too late. Looking like he was lost in another dimension, Sam grabbed the bottle of hot sauce and dumped it into his bottle of Corona and started to slurp it down.
“Oh Jesus,” Sean frowned.
“My mouth feels disconnected from my body,” Sam hummed. He dropped the beer bottle back onto the table and then threw himself back so he nearly toppled over on his stool. By some miracle he was able to push himself back upright, and then grabbed another napkin to wipe his sauced up hands. He looked back up at the space above Sean’s head and gasped. “There’s two gods now,” Sam breathed out. “It’s so beautiful.”
Sean was paralyzed in place, gawking at Sam, who had tears rolling down his cheeks again.
“So beautiful,” Sam exhaled. He grabbed the napkin from the table and lifted it up to wipe his eyes.
“Oh wait, no,” Sean tried to stop him, but it was too late.
Sam was now the one frozen, his eyes wide with fear and shock as he realized his mistake.
“SHIT!” he snapped out of it, hollering in pain as he threw his hands up to cover his eyes that now had hot sauce in them. “MOTHER FUCKER!”
The producer nodded for Sean to continue going and, as disturbed as he looked, he cleared his throat and talked over Sam’s calls of immense pain.
“In your song, ‘My Way Soon,’ your brother sings, ‘I’ve seen many places, there are so many places.’ For a 24 year old, I’m sure you’ve seen a lot: from the sketchiest dive bars to playing in front of thousands in packed stadiums, which places do you feel were the most monumental in your musical and personal journeys?”
Sam hadn’t heard a single word that came out of Sean’s mouth because he was too busy dumping his glass of milk onto his eyes while begging for forgiveness from the hot wing gods.
“Give me peace, oh mighty lord!” Sam cried tears of milk.
“He’s not finishing this,” Sean decided with a sense of finality. He thought that Bobby Lee had gone through the worst experience on his show, but the kid from Michigan had experienced the most devastating fall from grace he had ever seen.
Sam’s eyes were bright red, his clothes were beyond destroyed from all the milk, booze, and sauce he had spilled on himself, and his hair was plastered to his face from the sweat. He looked as though he had been to the farthest edge of hell and had to crawl back. Steam practically seemed to be pouring off him as he shakily stood from the stool and then plopped down on the ground so he could lean forward into a fetal position, his head up in his knees.
“I fucking hate hot wings,” Sam groaned from the floor.
10. The Last Dab: Apollo - Hot Ones Hot Sauce - So fucking hot the Scoville Heat Units don’t exist
“Let me sub in,” Danny said, running from behind the camera to the table, extending a hand for Sean to shake in confusion. “I’m Daniel Wagner, drummer for Greta Van Fleet,” Danny introduced himself to the camera. “My buddy, Sam, was so close to making it. He told me beforehand that if he couldn’t do it, I would have to finish it out for him.”
“That’s a first on this show,” Sean seemed to be growing on the idea.
Danny squatted down to Sam’s side and patted his arm.
“I’ll close this out for you, Sam,” he promised his best friend. Sam opened his
bloodshot eyes for a second to look up at Danny and then squeezed them shut again and let out another deep, low moan. “He’ll be okay,” Danny assured the crew. “He’s been through much worse. He could probably use some eye drops though.”
Danny gave Sam one more pat for a little extra reassurance, and then dragged him by the feet to the edge of the soundstage so he was out of the way.
“Glaugh,” was all Sam could say.
Danny returned back to Sam’s toppled stool and set it back on its legs so he could perch on it.
“Last wing, right?” he checked in with Sean.
“You got it,” Sean nodded. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna handle it like Sam did on that last round. That was hard to watch.”
“Trust me, I’m the sane one in the group,” Danny assured him. “Do you have a question that I can answer while I eat?”
“Well, uh,” Sean was thrown off-guard. “It’s really more of a question for Sam.”
“Try me,” Danny said as he added a dollop of hot sauce to his wing.
“Your, or, Sam’s dog, Rosie, seems like a really important part of his life, appearing in a lot of the band’s instagram photos and tiktoks. If you knew she could understand you, what would you tell her?”
“That is a better question for Sam,” Danny agreed, his mouth already full of the wing. “This is delicious, by the way.”
Sean gaped at Danny. The highest level wing hardly had an impact on him. He looked as if he had just bitten down on some celery.
“I would tell Rosie,” Sam gargled from the side of the stage, “that her dad is a big old wuss for tapping out early on Hot Ones!”
“You got close, Sam,” Danny turned around to tell his friend. “You got really damn close. “You’ll get ‘em next time.”
“I’m a failure,” Sam sniffed.
“The wings did kick your ass, bud,” Danny agreed.
“We usually give guests the last part of the show to plug anything they might be working on right now,” Sean interjected. “There’s a camera there, there, and there that you can look into.”
“Oh, sweet,” Danny perked up and set his finished wing gently down on its plate. “Okay, well, our single, ‘Meeting the Master’ is out now on all streaming sites, our album Starcatcher will be released on July 21st, mark your calendars, and we’re going on tour at the end of July. We’ve got a lot of exciting stuff for you down the road, I can’t wait to put it out into the world. Wanna add anything, Sam?”
“Can I have some more milk?” Sam whimpered off to the side.
“Of course, Sam,” Danny promised him. “Anything to add about any upcoming projects?”
“Upcoming projects?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, Sam.”
“I’m gonna pump my stomach,” Sam shared.
#great van fleet#gvf#gvf fic#greta van fleet fic#gvf fanfic#gvf fanfiction#greta van fleet fanfiction#greta van fleet fanfic#sam kiszka#danny wagner#josh kiszka#jake kiszka#starcatcher#hot ones#sean evans#sam got so close#but god was that a rough ending for him
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Dimensional Shift - Chapter 7 S4E3-6
Story Summary: Maria was just a regular girl, worked at a gas station, wrote fanfic, and loved Supernatural. She even created her own supernatural creature for her writings. When the aurora borealis comes to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, one Halloween night, everything changes for her in ways she never expected. Will she be able to navigate this new world she's thrown into?
Word Count: 3688
Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!
Warnings: Angst, some Fluff/Comfort, Alcoholism.
-----------------------------------------
Chapter 7 - S4E3-E6
(Sep. 20/08 - Oct. 28/08)
Maria stayed out of the next case, knowing that this would be when Castiel would come to Dean in his dreams and then send him back in time to see what happened between his mother and the yellow-eyed demon Azazel.
After which Dean would be confronting Sam about being on demon blood and working with Ruby. Then they’d have a Rurguru case, which was when Sam would choose to stop drinking the demon blood all on his own. She also had no desire to watch Dean flirt shamelessly with the waitress when they’d deal with the shapeshifter at the Oktoberfest.
She told the boys to be safe and that they could handle it, but if they needed anything, she and Bobby were there and only a phone call away. After the boys left, Maria filled Bobby in, swearing him to secrecy because, in her words, “This needed to happen a specific way.” Bobby wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed.
“Kid, they should know more than what you’ve told ‘em,” Bobby sighed after she explained some things.
“I can’t risk changing too much, though. I know they both miss her, and I don’t know another way to bring her back,” Maria practically mumbled.
“But do they really need to go through all that crap?” he asked, not completely sure how it all fit together.
She sighed, staring at the coffee table, “Over the time that passes, the two of them learn things on their own and it helps their bond eventually get stronger. Those two would do anything for each other. Even Cas ends up being family, but he does some stupid shit too.”
Bobby sipped his whiskey as he eyed Maria momentarily, concern etched into the lines of his weathered face, “How are you holding up?”
She shifted in her seat, her gaze flickering to the floor before meeting Bobby’s eyes, “Honestly, it’s both weird and cool, being here. I fell in love with all of the show's characters. It’s why I wrote fanfic. I just never thought I’d actually end up here,” she chuckled dryly, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
He leaned back in his chair, studying her with a mix of sympathy and understanding, “Just know, I still see you like my daughter. You can talk to me about anything,” he tried to reassure her.
“I know, and I appreciate it. I just don’t know how to act around the boys sometimes,” Maria sighed.
Bobby chuckled, “Well, the you from here has had a crush on Dean since she was about thirteen. Swore me to secrecy back then. I’m gonna guess you probably have more than a crush.”
Her cheeks warmed as a deep blush appeared, and she was thankful neither of the brothers was there, “Yeah, that would go over really well. The girl from another dimension is in love with what used to be a fictional character in her world,” she said fairly sarcastically, then sighed and looked back down at the table. “He’d laugh at me.”
Bobby sighed, not quite sure how to say what he was thinking about, “You could always just be blunt about it. Don’t live with regrets, kid.”
She knew exactly what he meant. Bobby had regrets, most of them having to do with his deceased wife and choosing never to have kids himself. He’d broken her heart and then had to kill her three days later due to her getting possessed by a demon. She debated telling him he should get an anti-possession tattoo, but that would have changed far too much.
“Dean isn’t the kind to settle down, Bobby. He likes his “freedom”,” she replied, rolling her eyes and putting the word freedom in air quotes.
He eyed you for a minute before he continued, “He may be an idjit, but he has a good heart. I think he might surprise you if you were honest with him.” After sipping his whiskey, he realized something, “Is that why you didn’t go with them?”
She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with him, “You try to watch someone you love flirt with every girl but you. Can we talk about something else, please?”
Bobby sighed, deciding he’d try to figure out a way to help her, but kept that to himself for now. “Then, while you’re here and not on a case with those two, you’ll train. That way, I don’t have to worry ‘bout you so much when you do go out with them.”
“Thanks,” she replied, giving him a thankful smile.
During that month, she spent a lot of time practicing movements, using her Touched abilities to get the hang of them better. It was the training she needed to reacquaint herself with what the character from her fanfic had been doing since her powers manifested. One thing she was having the hardest time with was feeling so alone.
She was a fangirl and had been for over a year, and now she was in her favorite show with a fictional character she’d gone and fallen in love with. She also figured this entire situation had to be weird for all three of them.
When she slept, memories of “her past here” played through her mind, and she began missing the man who was her father here. She also got memories of the times she had hung out with the brothers, Bobby, and even with John.
Bobby made sure to reacquaint her with how to shoot a gun. Her body knew what it was doing, but she had to grasp the feeling of it when she pulled the trigger. Each gun felt different. She didn’t want to be afraid of them, so she managed to stay serious while Bobby taught her.
Castiel couldn’t infiltrate Maria’s dreams due to her being a Touched and having the protection of Bastet by a birthmark or, more, a brand of a small, one-inch black cat mark on the back of her left shoulder. Most monsters couldn’t use their energy powers on her due to that. It did depend on how powerful they were. Of course, she wasn’t invulnerable.
When Dean got Ghost Sickness, Sam called Bobby in for some help, so Maria tagged along. She stayed in the motel room with Dean while Bobby went to help Sam. Dean didn’t have long left, a couple of hours if he was lucky, and the hallucinations were bad at this point. Maria did her best to keep him distracted but couldn’t when the sheriff showed up, worse off than Dean was.
Maria’s blood could only heal so much, and this was not one of those things. Even though she tried, cutting her finger and dripping blood into Dean’s wound that he had scratched into his arm, sadly, it had no effect. All she could do was hold him as he held his chest, gripping where his heart was. She knew he wasn’t meant to die here, but being a part of this was hard for her, far harder than watching it on the show.
“Bobby and Sam will fix this, I promise,” she tried to tell him, even if he was in too much pain to hear her.
Then, out of the blue, he was fine, and Maria let out a sigh of relief. The blood she had dripped into his wound now healed his injuries fairly quickly. Dean looked up at her, slightly confused as to why she was holding him. He got to his feet and then helped Maria to hers.
“Thanks for trying at least,” he told her with that smile smirk of his.
“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t at least try?” she replied, smiling more with one side of her lips than the other, not quite a smirk though.
This was the first time the two of them had been alone since she had arrived in their world. Dean was relaxed as he headed over to the fridge, grabbing himself a beer and chuckling slightly. Maria, on the other hand, felt nervous and anxious around him. Keeping her composure took quite a lot, but Dean noticed the smile she couldn’t completely hide, as well as the emotions in her eyes.
“Well, I appreciate it,” he finally told her before he took a drink.
She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt as she went over and sat on the edge of the bed. Her nerves felt as though they were on edge. Maria knew there was more to Dean than just his outer appearance. But dear God, that outer appearance was something she’d fantasized over on numerous occasions.
He was the epitome of rugged charm. With broad shoulders and a sturdy build, he exuded an aura of strength and confidence that drew people in effortlessly. Along his chiseled jawline was two-day-old scruff since he hadn’t bothered to shave, accentuating his rugged good looks. Then, there were his piercing green eyes. They held a hint of mischief, always ready with a smirk or a cocky grin that sent hearts racing.
Dean had the most expressive eyebrows that could convey a range of emotions, from determination to vulnerability. He moved with a relaxed, self-assured swagger, every step exuding a magnetic charisma that made it impossible not to be captivated by. From his leather jacket from his father to the worn-out boots, he was the embodiment of any girl's wet dream.
“Want a beer, Sweetheart,” he asked, that damned smirk plastered on his lips again.
“I’d say sure, but beer doesn’t do anything. It’d kinda be a waste to drink it,” she chuckled, hoping he hadn’t noticed the blush that had crept into her cheeks. She also hoped he hadn’t caught her staring at him, again.
He chuckled, “I’d offer you whiskey, but I don’t have any here. We can get some at the store down the block if you want.”
She tilted her head slightly, wondering if he had something else on his mind, but was too nervous to ask at the moment. “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure Bobby and Sam will be back soon.”
Dean leaned against the counter, sipping his beer, occasionally looking over at her, but hadn’t said anything. She could tell he was in his head, lost in his thoughts while still paying attention to everything. It was moments like this that his personality captivated her. He had the kindest heart and the sharpest tongue that cut with a pain that was capable of pushing someone away forever. Just as their eyes locked, Sam walked through the motel room door.
“You two okay?” he asked, concerned for his brother still.
“Yup. Hunky-dory,” Dean replied, sporting that playful smirk of his again.
Then, the three of them drove back out to the factory. Maria had been lost in her thoughts on the drive. Dean kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, which his brother did notice, but neither of them said anything to her. They met back up with Bobby, and after Dean parked, he pulled four beers out of the green cooler, but Bobby declined. Maria leaned on the trunk of the Impala, thinking about the events that were about to play out soon when Sam pulled her from her thoughts.
“So, Maria, you comin' with us, or heading back with Bobby?” Sam asked, glancing over at her.
“I could do either, but it’d probably be more fun going with the two of you,” she chuckled playfully.
Dean raised an eyebrow, as did Bobby, “Bobby can’t be that boring,” Dean stated, that smile smirk on his face again, which made Maria roll her eyes, but in a playful way.
“Well, if I’m gonna be here, in this world, I might as well get to hunting,” she told him.
The week she’d spent at Bobby’s while Dean and Sam were working out their issues, she had begun practicing with her abilities, feeling how her body had moved. It was almost muscle memory for her, which she found only slightly odd.
She had also been having more dreams that consisted of memories of her life in this world, things that her character may have dreamt about in her fanfic. Maria was done questioning going back or even attempting to find a way back.
She’d already decided she was going to stay, and no one was going to change her mind on the matter. This whole thing reminded her of a few different anime shows she had watched where a player got sucked into the game they had been playing.
Maria’s words made Dean chuckle, “Alright, Sweetheart, but you’re in the back seat.”
She rolled her eyes before grabbing her bag from Bobby’s back seat and putting it in the Impala’s trunk. Then she hugged Bobby, promising to check in with him while she was out with the boys. Maria had gotten better about Dean’s scent not affecting her as badly as it had in the beginning.
Her main reason for going with them was because she wanted to see the angels, knowing they were going to show up. She’d already told Bobby about the seals that were being broken, telling him what books were going to be the most helpful. Maria had also gotten more confident over that week, smiling as she walked over to Dean and Sam.
“Ready when you two are,” she told them with a smile before climbing in the back seat of the Impala, getting comfortable in the middle.
Dean, Sam, and Bobby looked at each other, all exchanging looks while signing to each other.
Bobby: Keep an eye on her. I don’t know if she’s really ready for this yet.
Sam: We will, and we know. She seems eager, though.
Bobby: She’s been training the whole time the two of you were gone.
Dean: Really?
Bobby: Yeah, really. Just watch her. I worry.
Dean: She’s family Bobby, and our old Maria was a damn good hunter. We’ll keep an eye on her, we promise.
Sam: Yeah, Bobby, we promise.
They said their farewells before Bobby got in his car and drove off. Sam and Dean exchanged another look before they got in the Impala. She knew they had just over a week before Sam would find the next case. This was one of those timeframes the show hadn’t added for the fans to watch. She was curious as to what the two would end up doing.
She stared out the window at first, just watching the scenery pass by while Dean drove. Her mind wandered again, thinking about the future events and how pissed he was going to end up being with her.
“So, since you know the future, Sweetheart, what’s our next case?” Dean teased her playfully, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
Maria rolled her eyes, “You’ve got roughly ten days before the next one comes up.”
“Didn’t answer my question,” he sighed.
She clenched her jaw, still looking out the window, “It’s in Red Wing, Minnesota, okay? But nothing is gonna show up for a case till around the twenty-ninth.”
Sometimes, she hated her memory. She’d done so much research in her world on locations that weren’t easily found when it came to towns that weren’t listed on regular fan sites. This had been one of those that took far more research than she was willing to admit, putting together bits and pieces of information and asking numerous other fans on several chat sites.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dean smirked, feeling accomplished that he got something out of her.
“So, what are we gonna do for just over a week?” Sam thought out loud.
They normally didn’t have time to themselves, and now they knew they had a week off of hunting monsters or dealing with a case. Maria was pretty sure what Dean would want to do, and she didn’t want to think about it.
“Well, I say we go find a nice small town near there, get a couple motel rooms, and relax,” Dean said happily.
As long as my room is on the other side of the building entirely, Maria thought to herself.
“Sure. It’s been a long while since we’ve had time to relax and do nothing,” Sam chuckled, looking forward to it now, too.
The drive wasn’t horribly long, just under half a day, but they got in sometime near three in the morning. When the brothers went in to get a couple of rooms, she followed them after grabbing her bag. Dean wanted her room next to theirs, but she asked for one as far away from theirs as possible, making sure it had two beds. She had a feeling Sam wasn’t going to want to spend much time in the room with Dean or would end up getting kicked out due to Dean needing some private time.
“What was that all about, Sweetheart?” Dean asked, trying to catch up with her, “Don’t want to share a room with me now?”
She rolled her eyes, “I know what “relaxing” means to you, and I’d prefer not to hear it.”
He smirked, which Sam saw, and he shook his head, knowing his brother was an idiot, having no clue why she really didn’t want to be near his room.
“Oh, and Sam, you’re welcome to bunk in my room, when Dean picks brings a chick back,” she added, making her way to her room on the far side of the motel building.
“Thanks,” Sam chuckled as he and Dean headed to their room.
Maria locked her door behind her before tossing her bag on the bed, grabbing some fresh clothes, and taking a shower. It wasn’t the best water pressure, but it did the job. She threw her hair up in a ponytail and went to the closest corner store, purchasing five bottles of whiskey. Her excuse to the cashier was that she was hosting a party, which he bought.
She hadn’t planned on drinking that night. She just wanted it on hand for the next day. So, when she got back, she tucked it away and out of sight, then crawled into bed. Her dreams were again of memories of this world and her character's past, things she’d never added to her fanfic.
It was a long week for her, and she mostly hid from Dean more than anything. Sam spent several nights out of the week in her room on the other bed, as Dean had done exactly what she knew he would.
“How long are you gonna not tell him how you feel?” Sam asked on the next to last day.
“He’d laugh at me, Sam. I mean, seriously. A girl from a world where he’s just a fictional character, and my dumb ass had to go and fall in love with him,” she retorted with a humorless chuckle.
“He might take it as a compliment?” he replied, raising an eyebrow
“He’s also not the settling down type. He likes his freedom. Then there's the way he always worries about losing those he cares about most. That somehow being close to him puts them in danger,” she sighed, then groaned, “He’s so stupid in that though. Any person he’s helped is in danger if a monster wanted to get to him.”
“Looks like you know him pretty well,” Sam chuckled, realizing that just because she looked like “their” Maria, she was very different, in all the best ways.
She rubbed her face with her hands, mildly frustrated, “He’d think it was creepy. I could probably tell him what he was thinking most of the time.”
“Not sure I’d want to know what he was thinking most of the time,” he laughed.
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t know,” she sighed.
The alcohol was long gone at this point, and she knew they’d be heading out the following day for the next case. She again offered the other bed to Sam for the night in case Dean picked up yet another girl at the bar he’d been spending far too much time in, at least in her opinion. He did take her up on that offer when he saw Dean’s car gone, yet again, around dinner time.
Maria and Sam had pizza for dinner while watching a movie when they heard the Impala pull up at the motel. She didn’t even need to look out the window to know he had another girl with him. She could hear the woman giggling after the car doors closed.
“You’re only torturing yourself,” Sam sighed, hating seeing her sad like she was now.
“Not like I can just turn off my hearing,” she grumbled, turning up the TV.
She barely slept that night, unable to get him out of her head, so the following day, she looked as tired as she felt when she and Sam joined Dean at the Impala. Dean just watched her, attempting to read her expression, body language, and what she wasn’t saying.
“Never saw you at the bar. You into Sam now?” Dean asked, leaning against the driver’s door.
“He’s like a brother to me, and I’m not into family like that,” she snapped, not looking at him.
“Geeze, Sweetheart. Sounds like you just need to get laid,” he teased.
“Dude? Seriously?” Sam questioned him from the opposite side of the car.
“What?” he asked, acting innocent before sliding into the driver’s seat.
Maria ignored him on the drive, sitting behind Sam and keeping her gaze out the window. She was still fighting with herself on how to handle future events and deal with the man she loved, having no clue how she felt toward him. Knowing him the way she did, she knew how he was going to react to numerous things, especially since if she shared the information, he’d stop it. Her only thought was that she wanted the brothers to have their mom in their life again, and one family dinner that they never got. The one day where their dad got pulled from the past, but that was a great many years from now.
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Chapter 8 - Coming Soon
Dimensional Shift Master List
Main Master List
Tag List: @nancymcl
#supernatural#SPN#spn fic#SPN FANDOM#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#spnfandom#SPN AU#supernatural series#supernatural fanfiction#Supernatural fanfic#supernatural fic#supernatural fandom#SUPERNATURAL AU#supernatural oc#supernatural fanfic series#dean fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x oc#Dean Winchester x femaleOC#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester fic
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The Quarry/zombie apocalypse
My love for The Quarry was inevitably gonna combine with my endless obsession with the zombie apocalypse genre. Nothing hits harder for me than the raw horror of the world falling apart from the inside out and getting ravaged by monsters with the faces of your friends and family, so this is just an AU prompt I've been plaguing myself with now I'm forcing on everyone else.
Some mysterious virus is turning people into zombies. The government knows about it and were concealing reports of the zombies from the public so they could do their bullshit. The government of several states with major cities is doing classic evil government things and snatched up "significant/indispensible persons" days before everything fell apart.
They went to universities and essentially kidnapped smart people. Though they refer to it as "salvaging" like they're resources. Mostly medical and science students and if there's any room on the transport vehicles, they grab the athletes too, the most physically fit young people. Keeping them safe with a goal of salvation and restoring humanity one day.
So Dylan winds up swept into this crazy military base. None of them have a sense of humour and absolutely none of them care for his nervous charm and jokes.
They grab Laura too. Vet students count as medical. She's like a bull in a pen, she's not putting up with being literally kidnapped but there's not a whole lot she can do to resist.
Dylan and Laura being smart bros. It's all I want. They connect on an intellectual level as well as a deeply sarcastic one.
They play detectives and sus out this fucked up place where the people running it have all these plans to rebuild humanity, plans to go and scoop up more important people.
They go to settlements, bust down the gates, take anyone useful and leave the rest. They have job allocations and full-on like, breeding match-ups as well. There's no elderly or physically disabled people in the whole place.
Our duo is like; "This place is absolutely fucked, we gotta go." Luckily for them, the super safe secure military base inevitably falls to a hoard because it's run by myopic idiots. However not before their snooping got Dylan bitten by a zombie the military people were experimenting on.
He gets his hand cut off and when the place gets overrun, Dylan's still recovering from the realistic side effects from having your hand removed and losing a lot of blood. He's halfway to comatose in the medical ward when everything goes to shit and Laura can't do anything to get him out.
She tosses supplies and anything she can gather up and spare, into his ward and barricades the door, leaving a scrawled note that says "I'll come back - Laura" she figured all she had to do was wait for the hoard to move on so she could get back in and get him but there wasn't anywhere safe nearby to use as shelter.
So she fled a bit, then a little bit more, until she realised she needed help to get back in to get Dylan and any of the others who were taken that survived. And as the already massive hoard combined with the hundreds of people in the base, Laura knew she had to get the fuck away. Especially when the hoard started moving in her direction.
She tried to do a big ol' circle back so she could turn around back towards the base but miss the hoard and not just attract their attention and she runs into Ryan! Dylan's very angsty, angry boyfriend, traveling with a family of rednecks Chris, Travis, Bobby, Kaylee and Caleb (Constance and Jed absolutely beefed it and/or refused to leave their house).
Ryan doesn't start off angry but he gets angry when she tells him what happened. Ryan and Laura just have to argue all the time, it's important to me that they kind of hate each other. But it progresses from regular hate to hate in a sibling way.
So she tells him about Dylan but the time they makes it back to the base, he's gone. But so are the supplies so they have a slight hope that he's ok.
So Ryan's absolutely pissed because from his point of view, she put Dylan in danger, got him bitten, then left him behind and now he's either dead or out there alone. She's like "fuck you loser you don't know anything, also if we're talking about boyfriends have you seen mine?"
ENTER MAX. Who was on a quest for his beautiful gf and ran into Emma and Abi two girls who totally-arent-in-love. Just a couple of gal pals. Max accidentally male-wifes his way into helping them realise their feelings for each other.
They eventually link up with Jacob, Nick and Kaitlyn who were on a camping trip when everything got fucky and straight up didn't even know anything was wrong until they tried to come home, their phones reconnected to signal and they got a million texts and notifications all at once. But they had a big ol' van and a bunch of useful supplies.
None of them had any idea about the government scooping people up but Max was loveable enough for all of them to be roused into action by his cause.
They came from the opposite side the hoard was on, so they didn't even run into it. But it takes them a long while to find the base (like the entire time Dylan and Laura were there) and find it after it's been overrun.
They totally cannot get in. There's still way too many zombie people in there and no visible living ones. Max is distraught but is convinced he saw some "intelligent movement" inside the base.
Cut to Dylan who had a Rick Grimes moment, waking up weeks later, alone in an empty ward. He makes use of the supplies and the note but knows he absolutely cannot stay here, at least not in the med ward. He gathers useful medical stuff and skedaddles.
There's no one else alive, all of the terrible army people are dead but so are the people they took. He does some big-brain moves, a distraction here, some mildly successful stealth there. He attaches a fkn knife to his stump. All with his panicked narration/monologue to keep himself somewhat sane while he's by himself, surrounded by zombies.
Dylan's breaking out right as the crew is breaking in. Dylan gives Max the note to prove he knows his girl and the crew does a whole heist situation to get as many supplies out of the base as they can, into their van before they leave.
I haven't really thought about how they find eachother but one idea was that the crew finds a settlement that lets them in and they become a part of that community. I like the idea of a community inside a mall. All the shops are like little flats for familes or roomates and it's basically a mini city inside a mall.
Meanwhile Laura, Ryan and the Hacketts are typically unfriendly to anyone and everyone and are just this crew of badasses with just so many fucking weapons. They're a well-oiled strategic machine that nasty people think they can fuck with but are quickly proven wrong.
While they generally refuse to interact with any other survivors, (it's mostly Travis making these orders to keep them all safe because he doesn't trust anyone, for good reason.) Ryan and Laura do try to talk to (interrogate) anyone who might know where their bfs are. Eventually, probably Kaylee, gets severely wounded. Laura can help her a little but they're forced to find a settlement to save her. They find the mall, there's this whole moment at the gate where the guards are like "You guys look nasty idk about letting you in." But are eventually swayed by the dying girl.
Cue the double reunion at the gate. And then probably more post apocalyptic politics happen. Just imagine the stares air disbelief as the gates open and eyes meet. So romantic so heart felt bark bark I'm done now it's 2:42am
#the quarry#zombie au#zombie apocolypse au#dylan lenivy#laura kearny#ryan erzahler#max brinly#radioheads#emma mountebank#abigail blyg#blygbank#kaitlyn ka#nick furcillo#chris hackett#travis hackett#kaylee hackett#bobby hackett#caleb hackett#jacob custos#tq hc#tq hcs#tq headcanon#headcanons
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The Thief of your Heart - Chapter Ten.
So guys, here’s the last installment of the story before we move onto the sequel. I’ve lost a few readers along the way, but gained a few as well, so big thanks to all who have stuck with it and offered such lovely feedback. I appreciate you so much. Also, even though you’re all aware it isn’t canon, just to note that I know there’s a glaringly big difference in the fact that in canon, Tig goes away to jail with the other guys at the end of S3, but in my land of creation, he doesn’t. Why? Well... I had to do something else very non-canon in who I decided to introduce much earlier than she actually appears in SOA... ;)
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine
Tag list - In the comments, please reply below to be added/removed
Words - 6,647
Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!
“I’m going to miss this.” Abi whispered quietly, stroking his dark hair as Chibs slept on, his face partially stuffed into the pillows beneath his head, soundless in sleep. She’d never known a man like him for quietness in slumber... when he slept on his front. On his back? She’d have to poke him until he turned to prevent the snoring booming through the room.
She smiled to herself while remembering the very first night he’d stayed over at her old flat, an extremely tired and sleep deprived Abi jabbing him in the ribs, shouting at him that he even snored in a strong, Glaswegian brogue, such was the ferocity of his snoring. When he slept on his front, though? Silence. So much so that on that same night, she’d poked him awake again.
‘Are you dead?’
‘I fucking wish I was with all this poking! Stop waking me up, lass! Unless it’s tae suck my cock, then go right ahead.’ She had. None of that would be partaken of that morning, though, both of them tired and sex sore from the utter marathon they’d partaken of in the hours preceding, Abi content to just have him there next to her. At least this time when he left, she knew that at some point, once her Saudi contracts were comfortable, she’d be able to follow him across the vast ocean that had parted them for so long. She was also looking forward to the man who had facilitated that being caught and disposed of.
It was something that was discussed a little later, back at the digs the SAMCRO group were staying at.
“I’ve been thinking, Chibs, and it’s only right, after what he did, that you be the one to hand it to him,” Clay vouched with a nod, Bobby and Jax both looking on in agreement.
“It’s about time old scores were settled, brother,” the latter added, nodding deeply.
“We have a lot to work out logistically, but I wanted you to know that as soon as possible, wanted Abi to hear it as well.” Clay smiled, nodding in her direction. He had a lot of respect for her as a soldier, even more so that she had been forced to sit on the amount of venom she’d harboured for Jimmy because of her loyalty to the cause for so many years. “Also, I want to pick your brains, while I still have them at my disposal. Any ideas on who his allies are, who could be harbouring him?”
She was thoughtful for a few moments. “If I had to bet money on it, I’d say the Russians, Viktor Putlova in particular. I might be able to assist you there, too?” Clay raised his eyebrows in interest. “My ex is close with Putlova, I’m sure for the correct monetary exchange, he can tell you everything you need to know.”
Chibs’ eyebrows creased, his mouth tightening. “You dated a Russian?”
“Oh, hello, captain xenophobia!” she snorted sarcastically, the men assembled laughing softly. “Aye, I did. And what of it?”
He continued to mutter, something about not liking to share his toys.
“Oh, and how many women have you slipped the cock to in the last fifteen years, hmm?”
“None of them were sneaky fucking Russians!” he replied, looking her up and down with mock disgust. “What are you grinning about over there, Juicy boy?”
Juice tried to hide his smile behind his hand, chuckling away. “I’m imagining the moment Abi meets some of your little crow eater harem. I want a front row seat for that.”
The lady herself leaned across the table. “A harem, you say?”
“Juice,” Chibs warned.
“Oh yeah.”
“Interesting,” Abi mused, lifting her chin, her eyes flitting over to her boyfriend. “If they even dare go near him again, I shall be exercising a hell of a lot of cunt punting.”
Jax sprayed the mouthful of coffee he was drinking back into his cup, laughter abounding. None of them doubted her for even a second.
“Well, there’s a woman after my own heart.” Gemma contributed as she cradled Abel, smiling knowingly at Abi. She’d pay good money to witness that.
For the remaining time they had left, Abi and Chibs sat outside, her astride him, enjoying the feel of his arms around her, drinking it in, smiling as she imagined the future, of getting to be like this with him more or less whenever she pleased. Her head found its place, tucked beneath his chin, kissing his neck a few times, feeling his arms tighten around her. “What you thinking about, CB?”
“What life will be like, when I get over to California.”
“Still shite for the most part, I should imagine, but at least we’ll have each other while it’s being shite.”
She laughed, shaking her head as she emerged from under his chin. “Always the eternal optimist, you grumpy fuck.”
He chuckled, kissing her head. “Just as long as you don’t come crashing in there and want to change my entire house around, I should be happy enough.”
“About that,” she began, pursing her lips when he groaned. “You’ve not told me about your place.”
“Nae much to tell. It's a bungalow, decent sized, two bedrooms, has a pool out back that I’ve never used, could probably do with a lick of paint here and there, but one stipulation I do have is that you’ll not change my lounge.”
“What colour is it?”
“Orange.” Her face was immediately affronted. ��
“Excuse me?”
“It was like that when I moved in, and I quite like it. You’ll leave my orange lounge well alone.”
“Orange?!” she cried. “But...”
“Abi,” he warned.
“But it’s, orange!”
“Aye, and I like it. It’s not bright orange, it’s pretty dark.”
She snorted, her mouth tilting. “Goth orange? That’s not a thing, Fil.”
“It’s my thing, and you’ll not change it.”
“Do I dare ask what the rest of it is like?” He chuckled at her look of trepidation.
“Casting your aspersions over my house!”
“It has a fucking orange lounge, what do you expect?” she wailed, squealing when he tickled her for it.
“Bathroom and kitchen are new, those had been done before I bought it, the rest you can put your own stamp on, though. Just don’t be too girly with it.”
She arched her eyebrow immediately. “Have you forgotten who it is who's moving in with you?”
“You have girly shite!”
She was aghast. “Such as?”
“Cushions and blankets on the sofa, and the rug that looks like you skinned an Afghan hound!”
“Those are cosy pieces of home furnishings,” she reasoned.
“And they’re not coming with you when you move!”
Her face darkened, muttering. “We’ll see.”
“We will not.” He was emphatic, but also very entertained by their back and forth.
She had an ace, though. And damn, she would use it. “Hmmm, nightly blowjobs might be a thing of the past, then.”
He narrowed his eyes, closing them slowly, shaking his head. “Fine, bring your girly shite.”
“Thank you, I will.” she hummed, kissing him. Much too quickly for either of their liking, the time rolled round for him to leave, Abi hugging him tightly, beaming at him before they exchanged a lingering kiss.
“Until a few months then, my beautiful, crazy baby. I’ll call you when I’m back, alright? Love you.”
She nodded, stroking his face with her thumbs. “Okay. I love you too. And don’t worry, if I have to crack Saudi skulls together to facilitate me getting to you faster, then that’s just what I’ll do.”
He laughed, kissing her forehead. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” They lingered on a hand hold, Abi stepping back to stand with Mo, watching as they all filed out. This time as he left, she didn’t fall apart, she didn’t cry, and her world wasn’t shattered. If only she could go back in time and tell that heartbroken girl who had collapsed in hysterics on the hard wood floor that it wouldn’t be forever, that one day, she’d find a way back to her beloved Filip again. As for him, upon his return to Charming, he had a very important part of the past he’d been tasked with, something he’d been imagining for fifteen years.
There was a lot of poison he still needed to work out, and as he stood over Jimmy O after throwing him back against the school bus after ambushing his car, he knew this was how he’d permanently rid himself of it. He imagined it all, it fuelled him like kerosene being poured onto a fire, every last bit of hurt the man before him had caused. Fifteen years of his life lost, of Abi’s life lost. Everything they’d had to endure, all because of what he’d been tasked with.
“Filip,” Jimmy acknowledged, knowing what he had coming. “It was never personal, you know that?”
Chibs took his knives, glowering at him. “This is for the fifteen years you stole.” Slashing at his face, he gave him the same excruciating wounds he’d been blighted with upon that fateful night, remembering it, stitching his own face, packing his belongings, holding Abi for what he thought would be the last ever time. “And this is for her. Abigail sends her regards.” He then plunged the knives into Jimmy’s chest, twisting and tearing the blades down for maximum impact where agony was concerned. Time was of the essence, so he needed to hurt him as much as he could in the shortest time possible.
If Chibs hadn’t had been pressed for time, his death would have been a lot more drawn out, but upon arriving back at the clubhouse, he was glad to be able to send a text to the one person who needed to hear the news of his demise most.
‘It’s over. Call you later on, love you.’
Abi sighed with relief when she woke up to read that. It further cemented each footstep upon the path she took to regaining all she had lost, that journey continuing with her task of bringing Brendan up to replace some of her dealings beginning the following week, Abi okaying it with the kings to also hand over her Nigerian contract to him to handle, leaving her with Libya and Cameroon, the two most volatile, those who would likely kick up the most ructions, should she make too many changes. She wasn’t prepared to give up who she was for a man, but she would cut her workload for him. It wasn’t easy, either. These were the kind of men who were suspicious regarding change, even the smallest nuances, such as the switching of a contact.
“So, where are you right now?” Chibs asked her late one evening, the early morning for her, his call her wakeup alarm. It had been two months since he’d arrived back in Charming, and god, he missed her.
“I’m about to leave Nigeria, after finally appeasing the lads down here. I think they should be fine with Brendan being their face from here on out, but I don’t think the Saudi boys are going to be quite as happy with it,” she confessed, walking out onto the balcony of the location they were staying in, the Nigerian heat hitting her full pelt.
It made a slight nervous knot form in his stomach, hearing that. Of course, he knew how proficient she was at her job, but now they were so close to the end result they’d longed for, even the smallest hurdle brought a feeling of trepidation. “Are you anticipating that they’ll be difficult?”
“Aye, they’re not partial to change. They’re also highly suspicious, next level cloak and dagger shenanigans. Even getting to meet them in the first place requires the kind of rigmarole that almost isn’t worth the money. Securing those deals was a big enough ball ache as it was, but adding this, I can imagine they’ll not take too kindly.” They didn’t either, as Abi discovered, insisting on a transitional period much longer than she was first anticipating. Of course, there was no way around it, the kings emphatically stating that she needed to appease them, that the deals were worth too much money to risk losing. She knew that. She’d been the one to broker them in the first place, after all.
All in all, it took five months to sort her affairs, from her work to her home, which she sold, a lot of her possessions going as well, a steady stream boxed securely and sent via courier over to America. Her things might’ve began arriving, but Chibs was getting antsy over when his girlfriend would actually follow, starting to become pissed off with her giving him vague answers, his brain going to places he didn’t like. It was something he found himself discussing with Tig’s new lady friend, someone he’d been a little dubious over at first, but found himself becoming quite fond of. She was extremely wise, for one thing.
“Oh come now, Filip. Do you mean to tell me that you now consider her to be lacking in sincerity over her vow to join you upon these sunny shores? I very much fail to see the validity in that line of thinking,” Venus spoke, sitting adjacent to him in the clubhouse one night, shaking her head in wonder.
“I don’t know. She says one week that it’ll be a couple of weeks, then maybe a month. Nothing is ever concrete with her,” he sighed.
Venus cocked her head, smiling kindly. “The woman sent her shoes, chere. She’ll be here, you mark my words. No lady would part with a collection of pumps the likes of which your Abigail possesses if she did not intend to follow them.” Tig and Venus had been assisting him in getting her belongings moved from TM (where it made the most sense to have them delivered, since he was never home in the day to sign for the deliveries) and thusly had noticed the huge box of shoes to arrive.
He sniffed slightly, his mouth twitching. “I guess you have a fair point, darlin’.” He still bordered on morose in demeanour, though, which killed her, the secret she kept burning on the tip of her tongue. Tig spotted it a mile off, jerking his head in the direction of the door as he beckoned for her.
“I know it’s hard, but you gotta keep it in, baby,” he told her quietly outside, Venus actually stamping her stilettoed foot a few times in quick succession, such was her agitation.
“I do profess this to be very difficult to manage now, especially when he’s so miserable without his lady love,” she lamented.
“Two more days, honey. Two more days.” He chuckled at her whine, hugging her. It’d be worth it. In two days, Chibs turned forty-seven, his birthday never an event he particularly relished in, beyond getting absolutely steaming drunk at the party which would be thrown, as was the norm. Also, most of his brothers were absent, of course, locked up in jail. All he could think as he worked on a set of troublesome carburettors was that he wished he’d be spending his day with Abi. “A few more weeks, fucking bullshit.” he muttered to himself, referencing the conversation he’d had with her the previous night.
“Sweetheart, come with me. You’re finishing early today, on account of your birthday. The guys want to give you your gift up at the clubhouse, though,” Gemma spoke, exiting the office.
Chibs sighed, throwing the spanner back into the tool chest. “Aye, alright. I’ll get cleaned up.” She waited while he washed down his face and hands, freshly free of oil and lighting a cigarette as he joined her, the creases in his forehead heavy, Gemma’s smile beginning to spread. Entering the clubhouse, all the remaining guys were waiting, Tig stepping forward with a box in his hand.
“Why are you’s all smiling so much?” he charged, looking to Opie first.
He shrugged. “We think we did well with your gift.” He looked entirely too pleased with himself; they all did. Suspicion abounded.
“Here, happy birthday, bro,” Tig spoke, passing him the box. Taking his knife, he slit the paper and tape open, the same with the tape securing the card of the box inside, putting it back on his belt before pulling out a can, reading the label. ‘Irish whoop-ass.’
“Why’s it empty?” he asked, puzzled.
“The whoop-ass escaped,” Gemma replied, just as he felt a fingernail tap his shoulder. They hadn’t... Turning around, he beamed, seeing the greatest present anyone could have made happen for him.
“Happy birthday!” Abi chirped, laughing hard at his face, Chibs covering it with his hand momentarily before wrapping her up in a hug and swinging her around, the clubhouse erupting into happy cheers and applause.
“You’re a wee shite, telling me your fibs!” he began, giving her a kiss. “And you lot? You were all in on it too, huh?”
“Yep,” they all chorused at once.
“She’s been staying well out of the way with Venus for the last ten days,” Tig confirmed. “We wanted it to be a surprise for your birthday. It’s killed them both, Venus trying to keep a secret, and dragging Abi back whenever she’s wanted to come and see you ahead of time.”
“I am owed great monetary recompense for the amount of whiskey I’ve had to pour into your good lady so she’d been too drunk to walk, let alone try and escape my apartment to get to you!” Venus herself piped up, winking at Abi. In those last ten days, she’d really warmed to her houseguest, finding Abi to be charming, funny, and a little terrifying too, as she’d learned of her life.
“We kick your party off in an hour. So, if you want to go and enjoy your whoop-ass, I’d do it now,” Opie told him, entertained. Chibs leaned down, threw Abi over his shoulder and grinned, smacking her bum.
“There’s only one arse getting whooped here, and it ain’t mine!” Laughter abounded, Chibs carrying her through the clubhouse and down to one of the bunk rooms, shutting the door and placing her down.
“So, pleased to see me?”
“I meant it, you’re a wee shite.”
She laughed, stroking his neck with her fingertips. “A wee shite you’re pleased to see?”
His growl as he advanced on her was all she needed to hear, Chibs reducing the long dress she wore to a puddle of fabric upon the floor, Abi kicking her heels off as she was corralled onto the bed, a very horny man pressing her into it as they kissed one another with wild longing. Five months of no sex would do that to a person, though.
He paused his hungry assault upon a mouth for a moment, staring down at her, thumbs stroking the apples of her cheeks. “Can’t even believe you’re here. It feels surreal, fuck. You live here now. With me. How the fuck did I ever get this lucky?”
“I like to think this is god, or the universe, or whatever realising we were owed greatly because of what happened to us. And guess what? I have three weeks until I have to go away again, and then it’s only for six days, including travelling.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so definitely stuck with you now, am I?”
“You are.”
“I’d better go tell the side piece to fuck off, then.” He laughed softly, receiving a thump to his chest, trying to kiss her, Abi making a show of dramatically turning her head away.
“Nope! None for you!”
He laughed harder, eventually grasping her jaw. “Shut up and kiss me, CB.” She did, her hands pushing his work shirt off, grabbing at the black vest he wore beneath, yanking it over his head and then pausing, her mouth dropping. He’d looked a little trimmer to her, but what he had lurking beneath his clothes was a definite, and very sexy surprise.
“Erm, excuse me? What do we have here?” she purred, running her hands over his stomach.
“Abs. We have abs, and a bit more chest.”
“And your cum gutters are making a return!” she noted, making him chuckle. God, he looked good. He wasn’t suddenly transformed into a chiselled Adonis (and she wouldn’t wish for him to be either) but the improvements he’d made were definitely to her liking.
“I’ve been at the weights, stopped eating so much crap food, too, figured I’d put in some work, get a bit fitter.”
Her mouth tilted, biting her lip. “Mmm, I approve.” She’d thought of him as nothing but sexy as fuck before, but now? Oh, next level sexy.
“Thought you might.” Pushing her back to the bed, he kissed her hotly, his hand sliding beneath her, bra clasp flicked undone and removed, his mouth closing over one nipple while his fingers pinched at the other, rolling the piercing bar back and forth between his thumb and forefinger.
Her hands slipped around grasping his bum. “Best arse in the world.” she stated, Chibs rumbling a laugh around her other nipple, shifting up slightly when she moved her hands to unfasten his belt. It was all heat and sin between them, a dizzying need to be joined, Chibs standing and stripping off the rest of his clothes. He grasped her thong, pulling it off before wasting no time in slotting himself between her thighs, cock arrowing straight into her.
She inhaled sharply, the relief of having him back inside her once more almost crippling, only getting to enjoy how he spread her for a couple of thrusts before he slipped from within her grasp, kissing her cleavage, her navel, her public mound, and then her clit, pushing her thighs wide with his elbows before taking a firm, slow, sweeping lick through her folds. The moan she made at that filled the room, audible to outside ears, a rapid hammering of knuckles upon the door.
“Yeah, brother!” Tig shouted approvingly from the other side.
“Alexander! You will come away from that door and allow them their time, or I will tan your hide with hot barbecue tongs!” Venus’s chiding had them both snickering with laughter, even more so when Tig proclaimed that he’d enjoy it. With the source of interruption herded away, Abi continued to voice her pleasure at the slow circles drawn over her clit, feeling it swelling against each sweep, her fingers tugging in his hair as her hips twitched. God, he was too talented by far with his mouth, and he knew it. She felt him smiling against her as she writhed, her little cries growing in intensity as did her pleasure, Chibs loving the sight of her escalating, sucking on her with a deep groan.
He was greedy and unrelenting with her, assailing the beautiful petals of her cunt with his mouth, Abi writhing against each immaculately placed suck and lick, his beard tickling her pink as her thighs skimmed his cheeks, his hands grasped tight upon her hips. The warmth of his tongue cut an edge right through her, her hands weaved tight in his hair, squirming into his mouth, consumed by him, her breath stalling in her lungs when a particularly sharp suck at her clit sent a bolt right through her.
His cock ached, hard against his hip, the need to push into her again far outweighing his desire to draw out driving her wild with his tongue, kissing his way back up her body, yanking her closer to him as knelt before her, guiding his cock to her burning hole and pushing within with a satisfied sigh, her aqueous walls pulsing on him, her back arching up off the bed. Her cunt was fever hot, slick muscles pulling him back with every retreat, each forward thrust sinking him in an extra inch as he felt her opening more for him, her mouth agape, pretty sounds of utter sin pouring from her.
“My beautiful girl,” he spoke, pushing his fingers into her mouth, gripping at her jaw as he watched her soft lips suck them, her cheeks hollowing, “I fucking love you so much.” Slipping his hand to her neck, he clutched lightly, bending to kiss her, her nails dragging his arms.
“I love you too.” she panted, nuzzling him, moving her mouth to lay soft bites over his throat. Gasping as the thick head of his cock snagged her insides, his head dipping, biting her nipple hard. He adored that she still had the piercings he’d put in sixteen years before, remembering the night like it was yesterday, his mouth sucking, hips driving against her harder, forcing wails from her throat as he pounded into her like a jackhammer.
It bordered on barbarity, the pace which was set, Abi pinned to the bed by a strong grasp at her throat, crying out in bliss as he fucked her mercilessly, her nails sharp at his chest in appreciation of the fast, hard drag of her fluttering walls. He slipped from her, turning her over and yanking her hips up, burying his cock back within her soaking centre once more, a handful of her hair taken, her head pulled back firmly.
“Fuck... ahhh, sorry baby. I think I’m gonna have to be a five-minute wonder,” he lamented, the hot coil tightening within him too ferocious to attempt to hold back from.
“Go for it, I’m close.” She panted. So, he did. The heat of the moment sizzled like a tempest, their bodies pounding together with furious intent, the rhythm of his cock making her catatonic, sending her reeling, mouth agape as she screamed with white-hot pleasure, Chibs going faster and faster still, hips disengaging as each stroke became unfettered.
The chase of their release was unrelenting, the pleasure breaking over them in a wave, swirling, crashing, consuming and relentless in its power. In the wake of tense and fervid, her rigid body finally relaxed, aware of his head resting down between her shoulders as he panted hard against her back. “I’ll make up for it, I promise.” he breathed, still foggy with bliss, enjoying her slick warmth fluttering around him.
“You’ve nothing to make up for, that was fucking amazing,” she praised him, her head spinning from the force of her orgasm. He smirked to himself, pulling out and flopping down on his back, Abi moving to rest her head upon his chest, feeling his fingers begin to stroke at the nape of her neck. Suddenly, she was up again.
“Oh! I have your birthday present, wait.” Jumping off the bed, she pulled her dress back on, ducking out quickly to where she’d left her bag behind the bar, pulling the small bow adorned box from within, taking a quick shot Piney poured for her and heading back again. “Happy birthday, BDT!” she announced once back in the room, kicking her dress off once more, sitting cross legged beside him on the bed and handing over the box.
Removing the ribbon, he was curious over what he might find within, opening it up to see an exact match of the gold skull ring he’d given to her before having to leave Ireland all those years ago. “Oh, you’re kidding me! How’d you even find one exactly the same?” he exclaimed, pulling it out and examining it.
“I had mine copied, big enough so it’ll fit your first finger too, so we can match.” Taking it from him, she slipped it onto the first finger of his right hand, kissing his knuckles, and then his lips.
“I fucking love it,” he began, holding his hand out to admire it, pulling hers atop it so the matching rings were side by side. “Thank you, CB.” He kissed her again, her fingers weaving through his, squeezing his big hand in hers. “I have something for you as well, you know.”
“Oh?” she inquired.
“Aye. I wanted to show you the actual paperwork, but that’s all at home, so I’ll settle for telling you instead. My divorce was finalised ten days ago.” He didn’t think he’d ever seen her beam like she did then, throwing her arms around him with a happy little shriek, his eardrums ringing, but his heart thudding with happiness.
“So, you’re free to make an honest woman of me?”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t think me marrying you would facilitate that, baby. But yes, free to marry you eventually. Whenever I decide to pop the question.”
She frowned suddenly, her face a picture of entertainment. “You’re going to make me wait?”
“Well,” he began, laying her on her back. “It has to be a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises! You know this!”
He chuckled, kissing between her breasts. “You’ll like this one, though.”
“Filip!”
“Oh, hush. No more talk. My mind wandered elsewhere.”
“I’m not going to give this up, you know. I want to know when!”
“Shhh.” he stated, his kisses trailing lower.
“But...”
“Abi, hush.”
“Bu... ohhh.”
He chuckled, after that first drag of his tongue against her heat. “Thought that’d shut you up.” She wasn’t silent for long, though, but the noises she began making were much more preferrable to him than being winged at. After he’d successfully made her cum all over his tongue, and fucked her so hard she was certain walking would be an issue, they lay there curled around one another, Abi stroking his neck with her fingertips.
“You look very thoughtful, there.”
He raised his eyebrows, turning his head to her. “Aye, I am. I’m contemplative.”
“Over what?”
“Well, the fact that I just turned forty-seven, and not really wanting to be much older than I am now when our kids come along. So, I suppose it poses the question over what your thoughts would be, in stopping taking your pill?”
It wasn’t something out of the blue for Abi to hear. For the last five months of being forced to conduct their relationship over phone calls, it had come up in discussion many times, the fact they wanted to have children, and that neither were getting any younger, especially not him. “Why are you grinning to yourself?”
Her smile grew wider. “Well, I have something to reveal there,” she began, turning onto her front, her fingernail idly circling his nipple. “I stopped taking it a month ago.”
His eyebrows rose significantly. “Sly, Abigail. Very sly.”
“But a good pre-emptive move, wouldn’t you say? Especially when you told me, and I quote, ‘you need to get your arse on a plane so I can get to putting a baby in ye!’ did you not?” Her imitation of his accent was perfect, Chibs laughing, pulling her to lie on top of him and kissing her head.
“Well, I suppose I cannae fault that.” He paused, stroking her cheek. “I quite like that there’s a chance we might have just made a teeny, tiny Telford. Imagining you going for nine months without coffee, nicotine or alcohol is a scary thought, though.”
In anticipation of such, Abi made damned sure that she’d be the shot downing, chain smoking, life and soul of whatever party she was at in the meantime, that night being no exception. Well, she was a little slow moving to that party, on account of feeling like she’d just been sandblasted.
“Oh, sweet child! Do we need to sit you in an ice bucket?” Venus cooed through her laughter, Gemma snorting as she saw Abi walking a little bow legged. That snort gained momentum as she attempted to seat herself upon a bar stool, Venus assisting, her face a silent scream.
“That’s what happens when you don’t see ‘em for a while,” she empathised.
“This is even worse than when I hadn’t seen him for fifteen years!” Abi cried.
“Ahh,” Gemma began. “That’s because you refreshed his memory.”
“You make quite the valid point there, Gem,” Abi replied, taking a bottle of beer and twisting the cap off. “Either way, I’ll be holding a requiem for my vagina in at 6pm this evening. May she rest in tatters.”
Venus almost exploded. “Are we to wear traditional mourning dress?”
“Oh yeah, black veil and a big hat.”
“Noted. I shall even throw myself dramatically upon the tiny casket and wail inconsolably.”
Gemma was in soft fits at their back and forth, passing over a few shots of tequila one of the prospects was pouring out, Abi in utter hysterics.
“Beast!” Venus exclaimed, pointing at Chibs when he walked over and picked up the shot.
His eyes darted around between the women, grinning when he caught on. “Aye, Vee. Guilty.” He sank it, taking a second one, too.
“The poor girl can barely sit down as a result of your assault upon her little cooch,” she continued, Chibs smirking.
“She wasn’t complaining.” He took a third shot, grabbing Abi’s face and licking her cheek before heading off to greet a few guys from the Tacoma chapter, Abi crinkling her nose and dabbing her cheek.
“You’re right, he is. But I like it!” The party was everything she expected from a SAMCRO event, having a fantastic time, meeting a hell of a lot of new people, but by halfway through, content to go seek out her man with a bottle of tequila in her hand, giving Opie a kiss on the head on her way to him, reaching to pinch Lyla’s arm softly with a smile. She liked her, they’d sat in a huddle with Venus for most of the night, all three getting to know one another.
“So, you’re stocking up all you can, are you, in light of our discussion earlier?” Chibs asked while gesturing to the bottle of Jose Cuervo she clutched, pulling her onto his lap, taking a swig after she offered it to him.
Abi made a somewhat agreeable face. “Aye, I am. Because as you correctly deduced, without my cigarettes, coffee, booze and also weed, I’m likely to be hell in a handbasket.” He burst out laughing at that, somewhat dreading the mood swings. “Venus has been teaching me about balancing my rage and finding composure, though. I suppose I could put that into practice.”
“And has it worked?”
She shrugged, reaching to take the joint Opie was passing to her with thanks. “I suppose we’ll have to wait until someone really pisses me off, won’t we?”
As it stood, that moment was quite a long time in the coming, very long, in fact. She found that all the crow eaters needed was a withering look in their direction if they so much as even looked at Chibs with lust in their eyes, but there was one woman, one very foolish woman, who wouldn’t be so easily swayed.
“Morning, sweetheart. How you doing?” Gemma asked as she came out of the office at TM, roughly nine months after Abi’s arrival, kissing the cheek of the lady herself as she stood, her face a picture of bliss, Tara kindly massaging a sore spot on her back.
“Fed up! And I have four more months of this, too!” she fumed, the women chuckling.
“And I hate to say it, but it doesn’t get any easier either. Although my backache didn’t start until well into my seventh month. I see how it’s different for you, though,” Tara spoke, rubbing her arm affectionately.
“How bloody dare he, putting twins in me!” Abi fumed jokingly, stroking her bump and looking over to outside the clubhouse, the father of her boys sitting with a few other club members, the incarcerated of SAMCRO newly released and back within the fold. “He neglected to tell me it runs in his family! Twenty-three weeks and I’m already getting backache because one of them is using my spine as a hammock!”
Her assertion had the women chuckling more, Abi thanking Tara for her assistance, draping an arm around her shoulders. They looked up towards the clubhouse, a white car pulling up, the driver of which making Tara groan in annoyance.
“Oh Jesus, not Ima again,” she muttered, watching Ima climb out, heading over to where Jax, Juice, Opie and Chibs were congregated.
Abi scrunched her eyes against the glare of the bright sun. “Is that the little piece of trash you told me about, the one who’s always wagging her pussy at Jax?”
Tara took a deep breath, her lips a little pursed. “Yep, that’d be her.”
“She’s been sniffing around every so often, I’ve noted, seeing what she can sink her teeth into.” It seemed that day would be no different, Ima looking down in their direction defiantly, before she sauntered right on over to Chibs. “Oh no, no way. Absolutely not.”
“Careful, baby. You’re compromised with tummy,” Gemma warned lovingly, resting a hand to her bump.
“Five months pregnant or not, I’ll still tear her in two, the jumped-up little gash.” She was off, storming away, Gemma and Tara exchanging looks.
“I feel we need popcorn for this,” Tara spoke, Gemma nodding.
“Well, I don’t have any of that, but I’m all for getting a front row seat.”
Jax winced as he watched Abi storming across the concrete, trying not to laugh at his mother and Tara following, attempting to appear as if they weren’t rushing when they in fact were, turning his attention then back to Ima.
“So, since your ole’ lady is pregnant, I bet she isn’t giving you as much sex as you deserve right now. Care to take me inside and make that happen for you, hmm?” Ima purred at Chibs, stroking his chest beneath his kutte.
He snorted with laughter. “I’m fine in that department, but you have roughly ten seconds to get your hands off me before my wife sees to you and thus ensures you’ll never be able to open your legs again.” Oh yes, after his divorce had been granted, it hadn’t taken Chibs Telford long at all to put a ring on it.
Ima snorted. “She doesn’t scare me.”
All the men laughed. “Oh, darlin’. She should. Last chance, get off.” Ima refused to comply. “Hello, my little piranha fish.” Chibs welcomed Abi’s arrival with, Ima eventually turning around.
“Can I help you?” The audacity of her.
“No, but you can help yourself by never laying a fucking hand on my husband again.”
Ima looked her up and down, licking her lip confidently. “Or what? What’s your fat, pregnant ass gonna do?”
Everyone winced. As they should have.
Abi grinned, one of pure, psychotic menace. Grabbing Ima by the back of her head, she brought her face down to meet her knee. Twice. Letting her go, she gripped her neck, imposing herself right in her face, her tone cold, quiet and foreboding. “Touch him again, and I’ll cut your fingers off one by one with a rusty knife, before sticking them right up your bony arse. Do you fucking understand me?”
Shaken and bleeding, Ima nodded, the hand at her throat clutching tighter. “I require an answer, Ima.”
“Yes, I-I under, unders-stand,” she stammered, her face burning in pain.
“Good.” Abi released her, but for good measure, brought a kick straight up between her legs, Ima howling in pain before staggering off, Abi simply waving goodbye to her before seating herself on Chibs’ lap.
“Jesus Christ,” Jax muttered, his hysterics taking over as he began to laugh richly, even more so at the way Chibs was looking at his wife.
“Are you ever not gonna be a complete savage, hen? I’d have thought knocking you up might’ve calmed you down a wee shade or two, but apparently not.”
Abi beamed, kissing him. “No.”
He snorted, kissing her shoulder. “Well, I suppose some things never change.”
The only things that had changed were all for the better.
The End.
#chibs telford#chibs telford smut#chibs telford fanfiction#chibs telford fanfic#chibs telford fic#chibs telford x ofc#chibs telford x oc#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy smut#sons of anarchy fanfic#sons of anarchy fic#tommy flanagan#tommy flanagan smut#tommy flanagan fanfiction#tommy flanagan fanfic#tommy flanagan fic#soa#soa fanfiction#soa fanfic#soa smut#soa fic
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Morning After
I woke up to the faint morning light streaming through the blinds, casting a warm glow through the long curtains. I walked over to the dark oak dresser and checked the time. Amber was still fast asleep in our four-post bed. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as I quietly made my way across the hardwood floor and down to the kitchen. I had just reached for the freshly brewed coffee when my phone started going off.
“Jax, listen up,” Clay’s voice came through, “I got something important I need you and Juice to take care of today.”
Jax leaned back against the wall, “Alright, what’s going on?”
“I need you guys to meet with Laroy,” Clay said.
“The Niners?” I asked.
“Yeah, little change of plans. We’re setting up a deal to get some AK’s from the Irish, but to do that, they want to offload some handguns to the Niners.”
“Okay, so what do you want us to do?” I asked.
“I want you to convince Laroy that it’d be smart if he took the deal from the Irish,” Clay explained, “I don’t think you’ll have any problems.”
“I thought you, Tig, and Bobby were workin’ the angle with the Niners. I was supposed to take care of some business at Cara Cara today. Can it wait?”
“If you’re busy today, do it tonight. Listen, Jax, we need those guns, and we need them now,” he emphasized, “I trust you can put your personal shit aside and focus on the club. That’s not too much to ask, right VP?” he sarcastically quipped.
“Not at all, Clay. We’ll handle it tonight,” I responded.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Clay’s tone softened slightly. “Meet with Laroy at their hangout spot. You know the place. I’ll text you the specifics.”
I nodded, even though Clay couldn’t see me. “We’ll get it done.”
“Good. Call me after,” Clay said, hanging up the phone.
“Jax?” Amber called out from the bedroom.
“Comin’ babe,” I answered, pouring us some coffee.
Amber and I had shared a special night together, and I wanted the day after to be just as memorable for her.
With two cups of coffee in hand, I carefully made my way back to our bedroom. Amber lay peacefully in bed, looking just as beautiful as ever. I placed the cups on the dresser and climbed back into bed, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.
“Good morning, darlin’,” I greeted her with a smile.
“Hi,” she mumbled, her smile growing as she snuggled closer to me.
“Ooo, coffee,” she exclaimed, spotting the cups.
“Here ya go, my love,” I said, handing her a cup as we both sat up in bed.
“Thank you,” she replied, taking a sip, “do you have any plans for today?” she asked.
“No, my day is free to spend with you. We could spend all day in bed; if you want to take the bike out, we can do that. Maybe get ice cream, a burger, whatever you want,” I suggested, kissing the back of her hand. Of course, I wasn’t going to bring up the Niner business, and Cara Cara wouldn’t take me too long to deal with. I just needed to sign some paperwork regarding the security room we’re installing.
“Hmm, I’m not sure. Just being lazy today sounds nice,” she said, a contented smile on her lips.
I sensed that she wanted to ask me something, but she seemed unsure how to approach it.
“Go ahead; if you have a question about last night, I’m all ears,” I chuckled, planting a tender kiss on her forehead.
“Was it okay for you?” she asked quietly, her gaze fixed on her cup.
I gently lifted her chin, making her look at me directly. “Amber, it was the best night of my life. I mean it,” I reassured her as best I could.
“And did you get enough cuddles and forehead kisses afterward?” I teased playfully, trying to lighten the mood a little.
“Yes, it was wonderful, Teller,” she giggled. “But were you…you know… satisfied? Was there something I could have done more of or better, maybe?”
“No, you did just perfect. Everything was fantastic, believe me.”
“It was perfect,” she wrapped her arms around me.
“That’s good because I want you to be just as satisfied as me afterward,” I squeezed her back.
We lay there quietly for a while, her fingers gently tracing patterns up and down my arm. The intimacy of being naked together, simply cuddling, brought a new level of closeness to our relationship.
“Don’t get me wrong, snuggling with you before was wonderful,” she said, looking up at me.
“But cuddling naked is a whole other level of awesome,” I smirked, looking down at her. She nodded, a wide smile spreading across her face as she giggled softly. I laughed, unable to resist the urge to kiss the top of her head.
“I love you, Teller. Thank you for making last night so special,” she whispered.
“I love you too, darlin’,” I paused for a moment, “but…”
“But!?” she blurted out alarmingly.
“But I’m going to make tonight even better,” I teased.
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Perspective flip for stuck?? Maddie Bobby Shannon - I rlly don't care who bc god do I love that fic you're writing is amazing :)
collision chapter one
“Did you notice he talks in his sleep?” Over her shoulder, she could see that Evan was no longer sleeping, instead looking at Christopher with a concentrated frown while he explained patiently whatever he was doing with his video game character on the television screen. It took everything within Maddie for her to not turn around and march her way back into the living room to sit with him. Evan wasn’t vulnerable in the Diaz household, she knew that - it was as much his house, now, that it was theirs - but Maddie was… Maddie was used to being the person he turned to when he was hurt or scared or… or anything really.
She didn’t know how to feel about the fact that her absence and replaced her with Eddie.
It wasn’t that Eddie was anything bad. Maddie loved him, even, if only because of the way he made Evan smile. She appreciated his brutal honesty, at least, even if it stung whenever he threw it in her direction. Evan would never hold her verbally responsible for what Doug had done to them, Eddie didn’t have any qualms. Maddie chewed on her cheek and wondered, absently, if Evan needed another pain killer. Eddie snorted and shook his head, pulling her attention back to where he was… lingering, tapping his fingers against his phone and wearing that look on his face that Maddie knew he only wore when Shannon had been particularly difficult.
She didn’t know how to broach that topic with him (with Evan, either). There were some startling similarities to her own relationship with Doug that had her reeling - Shannon wasn’t violent, not that Maddie knew, but she had such a grip of control that… that Maddie didn’t know how to warn him away without causing more damage. “I’ve been sharing a bed with him for the last six months.” Eddie answered sarcastically.
Maddie tried not to blush at the implication. She knew her baby brother was sexually active, thank you very much. She had lived in an apartment with him for the better half of a year - Eddie had spent plenty of time in that same place behind a locked door that Maddie tried her hardest not to pay attention to the noises coming from (not that they were loud, but Maddie wasn’t dumb, she knew what a locked door and the sound of a squeaking mattress meant). “Actually,” Eddie stood up straighter. “Can I ask you something?”
Maddie blinked - it wasn’t all that often that Eddie went out of his way to continue a conversation with her. Not that she was complaining - Evan loved him and Maddie didn’t plan on going anywhere any time soon, she would have to get to know the man that her brother cared so much about (and it wasn’t a chore. Eddie was nice, an enigma but a nice one). “Of course.”
“Buck doesn’t have any idea who he could be talking about.” Eddie explained. “Everything else he can explain.”
Maddie screwed up her face in curiosity. “Okay.”
“Who’s Daniel?”
It was an innocent question but it slapped Maddie back about twenty-five years. It wasn’t that Maddie floundered at the name every single time she heard it - Daniel was a popular enough name and she had been a nurse and currently was as 911 operator. But it had been years since anyone had drawn the line between Daniel and Evan that wasn’t her. There were so many ways to answer that she didn’t know which to stick with. She wanted to tell him the truth - she had a feeling she could, that Eddie wouldn’t hold it against her more than she held it against herself.
But it was like Evan had asked her himself - there was no telling Eddie and him not telling Evan. It was just how the two of them worked (and it wouldn’t be fair of her, to ask Eddie to keep her secret because their parents had taken the words from her and buried them in Daniel’s little wooden casket). Where’s Dan’y? Evan had asked it again and again and again and their parents had never answered except to tell him not to ask. Maddie had held him all through the funeral, hugged one brother while they lowered the other into the ground, and when their mother had tried to take Evan from her arms Maddie had held on so tightly that it had almost given little-Evan bruises on his soft flesh. He had tried to crawl Daniel’s casket, had put his pudgy little hand on Daniel’s cheek and asked her with teary blue eyes why he wasn’t waking up. For two years they had had a combined birthday party - Daniel had sat Evan on his lap and served him cake and he had laughed when Evan had smeared frosting everywhere. Their parents had hated it but Maddie had been so happy… she had never been so happy ever since….
She could tell him. Maddie wouldn’t be breaking the promise to their parents if she told Eddie and Eddie told Evan for her. He found out in a roundabout way, Maddie could defend.
But when she opened her mouth to tell him, a lie tumbled out instead. “A kid that grew up down the street from us, I think.” Maddie explained with a forced pleasant laugh. “I’m surprised he even brought him up. They used to have play dates when Evan was, like, two years old.” Eddie didn’t believe her. Or, he did believe her, but he knew she wasn’t telling the entire truth. Of course he did, Maddie wasn’t shocked, she lied the same way Evan did. It was how she was always able to catch him in it.
Maddie wanted to scream at him to call her on it. All Eddie had to do was push just a little bit more and she’d be spilling Daniel out on his kitchen floor.
But he didn’t and the ghost of Daniel she clung to in her chest screamed at her to let him free and so… she bid her goodbyes, lingered a moment longer than was necessary, perhaps, with her lips pressed against Evan’s birthmark (she had told him, when he was too young to understand and remember, that it was Daniel’s fingerprint. A way for their brother to stay tethered to him even when he was gone).
She held her breath all the way to the ocean and then she stood out on the rocks and screamed at the waves until they screamed back.
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Sunset Curve headcanons that i created while getting groceries today
Alex and Reggie met in middle school and became friends who were constantly bickering at each other. Reggie was also really good at school and Alex wasn't (adhd) so they did homework together, but they ended up in different high schools.
Luke and Bobby met in elementary school and copied everything the other did, had to be separated into different classes bc they manages to disrupt the whole class together. Didn't stopped them from becoming best friends.
Luke met Alex in a concert, they had a lot of similar favorites bands but they argued over music a lot, became friends instantly.
When Alex introduced Luke to Reggie, they clicked right away, Reggie was enthusiastic of everything Luke said and Luke was impressed by how unapologetic Reggie was.
Bobby and Alex didn't liked each other at first, Bobby thought he was too sarcastic for his taste and Alex found Bobby's presence a moodkiller. eventually, they bonded over familiar situations (the perks of being the youngest son who wasn't really expected to achieve a lot) and how Alex could get them easily out of trouble and how Bobby could throw hands at anyone for Luke, Reggie and Alex.
They started their band at the end of middle school. They weren't each other's only friends, neither hang out together all the time. But they always had each other's backs.
Alex and Luke once fought cause other bands invited Alex to join them, Alex didn't even considered accepting, but he didn't wanted Luke telling him what to do.
Bobby never really vocally agreed to call their band Sunset Curve, but Reggie was so perky about the design he created and Alex had already printed it out on his drum kit. He got over it.
Luke never told any of them all the things his mom said to him when they argued, but being far, neither one of them told every detail about their lives at home.
They used to make fun of jocks and call them meatheads. Bobby did it bc be had three brothers in sports, Luke did it bc he sucked at sports but wouldn't admit it, Alex just never liked it, Reggie got bored of playing bc he always forgets the rules. Sports are really dumb.
Alex and Luke were supposed to have a driver's license, but they both failed it, Reggie couldn't afford it, so technically Bobby was the only one who could drive. (But Reggie learned it so they had a backup plan in case Bobby couldn't drive)
Reggie tried to adopt a dog and leave him on the studio but everyone else agreed it was a bad idea. The dog had an actual owner in the end.
I change my headcanons all the time tbh but reggie/alex friendship is way too real for me in every universe.
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thank u @whodoesnataliehave and @hex-rex for taggin me!!
1.) are you named after anyone?
Christopher Robin my good friend Christopher Robin.....
2.) when was the last time you cried?
the day before yesterday for silly reasons! crying over everything is good for the soul i think
3.) do you have kids
HELL NO!!!!!!! (i wouldnt mind having some WAY. WAY. WAY. into the future tho :])
4.) what sports do/have you played?
none unfortunately, i wanted to play basketball in highschool (and 100% would've) but i wasn't allowed to bc i was still supposed to be doing physical therapy for my hips </3
5.) do you use sarcasm?
YES ALL THE TIME, the only other person who can tell when im being sarcastic is my dad though, its so unfortunate TT
6.) whats the first thing you notice about people?
didn't realize it until now but i think its their hair? im extremely bad w faces (and have trouble remembering them + telling people apart when i don't know them well) so i usually remember folks by their hair LMAO
7.) eye color
brown
8.) scary movies or happy endings?
both are good!!!!!!
9.) any talents?
i can vaguely play guitar and ukulele + draw when my brain cooperates w me. im also very good at making origami cranes (DONT ask me to make anything else though. mastering one kick vs 1000 punches or whatever the hell bruce lee was talking about)
10.) where were you born?
what are you..........a cop? (right outside of this TINY! ASS! TOWN! in georgia)
11.) what are your hobbies?
reading, drawing, playin music, and crocheting soon hopefully :3
12.) do you have any pets?
i have two cats (bobbi and shimmey) and two dogs (loki and coco). coco is my bestest friend and the most specialist girl in the whole wide world and loki is loki. the cats remain mostly unphased by my presence.
13.) how tall are you?
ohhh you know. about this tall. like yey big i'd say. about as tall as i am. (5'2)
14.) what was your favorite subject in school?
it was and still is history!! im also very fond of algebra and english :]
15.) whats your dream job
GIVE ME A JOB AS A LIBRARIAN NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
tagging: ANYONE WHO WANTS TO!!!!! IF U READ THIS AND UR MY MUTUAL DO IT!!! IF UR NOT MY MUTUAL ALSO DO IT!! or dont, its up to u 👍
#tag game#rose tag#looked it up and that br/ce l/e quote was apparently about practicing one kick 10000 times vs practicing 10000 kicks once.#my version was basically the same i think
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have you ever heard of Ulysses, my dear?
A man who desired the Sirens' song - even if hearing it would render him incapable of relational thought.
right now I can tell you: I do understand this man; for I am Ulysses and you are my Siren. I would come back, be it for the pleasure of having your presence or the pain of craving for you.
I apologize for staying away for such a long time, my muse. Unfortunately, college has been keeping me grounded - but you called, so here I am, ready to appreciate your work the way I should.
I missed you! truly. deeply.
shall we talk about everything you have gifted us with?
Kissing Lessons. it made me fall in love with Vada like it was my first time seeing her.
it's just so...natural. the characterization, the scenarios, everything. I have just read it for the second time and, oh dear, each and every paragraph made me want to watch The Fallout all over again. I don't usually pick this word to describe smut, but, yeah, it was adorable.
I am a little tired right now, so finishing that one draft I have left for that little ball of sunshine wasn't exactly the plan...but, oh, you make me want to write like a mad man.
Is it a risk to say I am obsessed?
Nevermore Ground. it dug a hole in my heart twice as wide as I could imagine and now it lives there.
it will always live there.
as hard as it is to believe - I write mostly naughty things... - fluff is my favorite thing to read. and your fluff? it goes to another level. NG is everything that I needed to heal my mind, from the cozy atmosphere to the funny characters.
(Raven, Phill, Billy...I am talking about all of you.
and you, my dear writer? you do know how to woo a lady. I find myself falling deeper and deeper.
just like Alice, remember?)
let me tell you: you surprise me every time with how fluid your writing style is. there are little changes depending on the genre you write and it fascinates me. it's not the language nor the word...I have no idea; it's just so different?
tasty. addicting even.
keep up with the great work!
FilthX. I love it when people toy with the title. cannot say if it was your true intention, but I will believe so.
this one kept me in a chokehold. we have not only one, but two spicy scenes? oh, gods. I might faint if you do so another time without the previous warning.
(it's Bobby-Lynne, alright? the woman is just divine.
it stands next to the ice cream scene for me.
yet another must that you provided me with.)
oh, Lorraine. the church mouse does know what she wants - and she is going to take it for sure.
I can't wait to see what things come next.
How To: Be The Perfect Partner - A Lecture. the request was written right after the end of the movie; it's a little rough, changed many times to fit the general idea of what I pictured it to be.
and yet, you handled everything perfectly.
Phoebe's personality is palpable, just like her sarcastic comments are. you filled up all the gaps, made it your own story and brought up the funny, dangerous and hot aspects all at once. reading it was a pleasure, just like reading everything else was.
my favorite part? the heart shaped glasses. I first intended to mention throughout the request, but couldn't find a way to do so.
it's like you've read my mind, friend.
oh, no. I did it again.
another long comment came in your way.
I cannot promise to make them shorter though. in Greece we appreciate showing as much love for the artists as possible, so you could say it's a bad habit I was born with.
we breath good stories and desire to talk about them all the time.
who am I to go against my nature?
alright, I am letting you rest now.
allow me to tell you one last time how ardently incredible you truly are. you always shine bright, my beautiful star, and that's why I will always find my way back to you.
thank you very much for having me.
eternally yours,
Horny Angel Anon.
I….am at a loss for words? Which never happens. I’m a writer and a smart ass I have words for everything. Am I being wooed? What is happening right now? 😍 the flattery
Also YES thank you bby FilthX is a play on Filthy and should be pronounced that way I’m so glad you understood this!
I’ll be anxiously awaiting that Vada prompt, but take your time! No rush! Until next time bb 🖤🖤
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supernatural s13e12 devil's bargain (w. eugenie ross-leming, brad buckner)
laughing that the recap shows asmodeus impersonating cas on the phone, i have such a blind spot for this plotline because i aggressively don't care - i had forgotten they did that too (i was just guessing when i mentioned it prev ep), and sometimes i think about the process for picking clips to include in the recap. like, these dumbasses forgot about the asmo!cas phone call, better remind them (it's me hi i'm the dumbass it's me)
CAS
Yes. And the archangel, Michael, again the Apocalypse World version, wants to use the spell to invade and conquer our world. That’s why I met with Lucifer.
DEAN
So…You met … Cas, I specifically told you not to do anything stupid.
CAS
Well, he was weak and given the context of our imminent annihilation it didn’t seem stupid. Lucifer wanted to help fight Michael.
what's stupid is dean telling cas not to do anything stupid. i would snap at my kids for that and tell them they're being rude and mean. so i'm glad cas snapped at him, slightly, and sounded mad
SAM
Oh yeah, Lucifer wanted to help, sure.
CAS
If he were lying I’d have known it. He was, he was scared. But Asmodeus showed up before we could finish our conversation and when we finally managed to escape Lucifer did try to kill me.
DEAN
Oh so much for helping.
feel like they're trying to reestablish lucifer being scary. something about being sarcastic but like, he tortured our sam for an unknown but probably very long time, they have every right to be bitchy and sarcastic at the least towards cas on news of him sorta working with lucifer for a minute
ketch and asmodeus shenanigans *eyes glaze over* ditto for lucifer having to be human
DEAN
Cas, I’m sorry. All that time you were with Asmodeus, I should have known it wasn’t you.
CAS
No, he’s a shapeshifter. Besides, I was the one who got myself captured.
DEAN
Yeah, but if Sam and I knew you know we would have–
CAS
Yeah, I know you would have tried another long shot. I’m fine, Dean.
DEAN
You sure about that?
my dig at the soulless plotline, but how long did dean (AND BOBBY) go with soulless!sam before realizing something was seriously fucked up with him (i would say an UNREALISTICALLY FAR TOO LONG TIME) but if we're accepting that to be in-character, then surely brief phone calls you can't expect dean to have realized it wasn't cas -_- so apologize for making the don't do anything stupid comment instead.
ah so this is the episode with danneel in it (oh, just looked it up, didn't realize it was more than one) i knew she was an angel but didn't know when. haven't seen anything she's in, only know of her vaguely due to jackles. was very much not expecting a ... very young sounding voice. her smile reminds me a bit of kate siegel
SISTER JO
Don’t be afraid.
You’re whole again.
oh lord the ableism. how do you think that feels to people that have facial differences? ugh. i know that's super common and pervasive but ugh.
girlboss angel, okay, why not
mmmk. little distorted demon growl in the mix of that whole scene
DEAN
Alright, I say we take dickbag back to the bunker and find out what he knows, put a bullet in him and burn his bones and flush his ashes.
CAS
I like that plan.
how about since you know 100% this guy isn't going to break under torture, and that torture info is bad and useless anyway - just kill him and be done with it. i know, shows gotta do this, but i'm so over everything.
SISTER JO
We don’t have to rush. We can do this slowly.
really wasn't expecting the kinky angel action a la sam and ruby. i feel the logistics of the angel grace recharge that's supposedly happening here don't quite add up :p but weird sex scene with jackles's wife. that just keeps going. i get it.
KETCH
I know you think I’m a monster.
DEAN
Because you are.
KETCH
But even I must draw the line somewhere. And letting Lucifer free upon the earth? Well, as it turns out, that’s my line. Not to mention the whole Michael situation. I know you want to kill me. I know you can’t forgive me but if you think about it I’m the lesser of, well, at least three evils. All I ask is that you wait to murder me until after I prove useful. Hmm?
lesser of at least three evils was funny, i'll give them that. still heavy sigh over all this
DONATELLO
(screaming) It's like pulling friggin' teeth!! (calmly) I’m working my way through the ingredients.
SAM
Right. Okay. At least we know the spell we need is in there and we have a plan.
so does that mean sam is all hunkydory now that they have a plan? no more "in a dark place" sam? insert eyeroll
speaking of eyerolls. did they get a proof of concept from him showing he can actually make angels?
LUCIFER
Hail to the king, baby.
mhm. preferred when ash said it :p
it's on the damned tip of my tongue who he's reminding of and driving me up the wall. but the cackle i cackled. ARCHANGEL BLADE. okay. why not. couldn't even come up with some random cool sounding backstory having thing like the first blade. nah. just like the angel blade, but upgraded.
gabriel? sure, why not. not like i can keep track if was supposed to be still dead or whatever. s13-15 like one long reunion tour?
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