#Stu's 5 Fic Fridays | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yesimwriting · 2 years

Note

could u do something about stu being sweet w the reader after something making jokes but she’s being sensitive and he realises she needs sweetness from him

ofc i can!! i love stu sm, even though the oldest daughter of an immigrant household in me would fr be fighting with him every two seconds lmao

also part 5 of final girl is coming, she's just big😭 and my homework levels are insane and i don't want it to feel rushed, and these drabbles/fics are easier to get out during weeks like this!! but i'm working!

warnings: bit of toxicity tbh (expected tho lol), mentions of Billy bc they're a matching set in my mind lol, but it's brief and his role in the relationship is pretty open I think, pinch of manipulation, cheesiness lol

----

Sometimes the way you care about people gets under Stu's skin, like a bug bite that he can't scratch because it's on the inside.

He doesn't hold it against you, or at the very least, he really tries not to. But sometimes, when you get like this on the behalf of other people...

Stu lets out a low sigh as he shoves his hands into his pockets. When he first realized that you had locked your window, he had briefly tried to not jump to worst case scenario. Maybe you weren't that mad, maybe the early fall draft kept blowing the window open, or maybe you were out with Sidney and Tatum. But no, the tightly shut window was intentional.

After knocking on your front door and being greeted by your mother, Stu had learned that you had just been in the kitchen, complaining about being bored.

"You're actually that mad at me?"

At the sudden intrusion, you snap your head back, the chair in front of your desk moving back slightly with the motion. Your panic lasts for less than a second and is quickly replaced by a small sigh and an eye roll.

"Stu, you nearly gave me a heart attack." It's not the first time that you've scolded him for that. Despite his typical energy and tall frame, he can maneuver like a cat when he wants to. "I-I locked the window, how are you even in here?"

He leans against your doorway, angling his head so that he's looking at your dresser instead of at you. There's something about your room that's just so you. It's comforting and sometimes overwhelming if he hasn't gotten off in too long.

He could spend an entire afternoon looking through your drawers and sampling your perfumes and lotions. He actually did that one Friday you slept over at Tatum's.

Stu shifts his gaze, his eyes meeting yours. You're trying to be harsh, he can see it in the slight draw of your eyebrows. It's endearing, especially with the stubborn almost pout of your lips. Sometimes when you're mad all Stu can think about is kissing you.

"Your mom told me to go ahead and let myself into your room," he mumbles, pushing away from the doorway as he steps entirely into the room, "You might be mad at me, but she's not."

Your eyes narrow a little at that. You know that Stu knows exactly what he's doing. "Well, she shouldn't have." You scratch the back of your wrist, trying your best to avoid Stu's gaze. "I'm doing homework."

"She said you were bored."

"History homework tends to do that."

Stu takes another step forward. You move your hand, gripping the back of your desk chair. When it comes to staying mad at Stu, physical distance is your only ally. The closer he gets, the less your brain functions.

"You said your history homework wasn't due until next week." Another step forward, the skin over your knuckles strains. "You can't be that mad at me." He continues to walk further into your room until he's so close to your desk chair that he has to turn his head down to look at you. "Let's just watch a movie or something. I'll let you pick."

His piercing gaze cuts straight through you. You can barely breathe. You drop your gaze in order to be able to get your thoughts out. "No, I said I wasn't talking to you."

Even in your own ears your words sound weak. Stu, already feeling his victory, reaches forward. He takes your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, tilting your head up so that he's inescapable. "All of this over a few things I said to Randy? I was joking, he knows I was." When your frown doesn't go away, Stu lets out a sigh, "If it means that much to you, next time I see him I'll give him a joint or something and we'll be even. Promise."

You lean back, pressing your spine into the side of your desk. "It's not really about Randy, y'know." You inhale, thinking through your words carefully. Stu takes your reproaching well as long as you don't cross any invisible lines. "You can't just say what you want about people. It hurts their feelings, and you might forget about it after a second, but that person doesn't."

Stu blinks, an oddly uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. You genuinely care so much about how other people feel. Everyone. Even people you don't know.

Thinking about it too much makes him uneasy. It makes him feel like anything he feels for you is so much more than anything you could ever feel for him. You consider everyone's feeling, he can only bring himself to worry about how you and Billy are feeling.

He forces himself to back away from you. Stu moves to sit on your bed. Safe distance. The thought is mainly subconscious but that doesn't stop it from rolling in his stomach. He likes to think that he wouldn't actually hurt you over something this small, but he refuses to take the chance when it comes to you. Even more so when Billy isn't around as some kind of silent assurance.

"I thought that the other woman was supposed to be less of a pain in the ass. You're cute, sweetheart, but at least Tatum knows when to drop something."

Out of all the things he could have said, that stung the most. And he knows it. Your relationship exists in a world of in-betweens. You didn't like the idea of being some kind of side piece, especially the side piece to one of your best friend's boyfriends. But you guys never figured out how to stay away from each other.

Stu had spent so much time swearing to you that things were different than they looked. He promised time and time again that his real feelings are for you, that you were it for him, and that he couldn't just blow off Tatum for the sake of the group. With everything going on, with Sidney still grieving, it'd be selfish to risk it all over feelings.

By keeping your thing together secret, you were protecting everyone's feelings while still not breaking your own hearts.

But that single comment burned it all away. You were just starting to believe him, and now... "Really?" The word is pointed, but nowhere near as violent as you want them to be. "You really don't care about anyone's feelings but your own." Your eyes feel teary. "I'm such an idiot because I-I defend you when people say things like that about you, and I'm always thinking that it's just that they don't know you like I do. But they're right--you're--" None of the words that come to mind feel harsh enough, so you decide to just be honest, "You're mean."

Stu blinks as everything you've said settles into his chest. A rare, fleeting touch of a feeling some might have labeled as guilt stabs at him. He crossed a line, and now you’re looking at him in a way you never have before. And your eyes...fuck, your eyes are so wide and glassy. You're about to cry.

He had dealt with your anger before. Petty, teasing anger, sure, but still--anger. Stu could handle that. He knows what to do when you push him away and pout and even knows what to do when you curse at him. But this, this is so much worse than any of that.

You're more hurt than angry and Stu hates it. He hates that he doesn't know how to fix it. He hates that a part of him wishes that Billy was here, he'd be able to smooth this over and get you to stop looking like that.

"Not true," Stu finally manages, his voice nearly wavering at the shocking amount of honesty in it, "I care about someone's feelings."

You shift in your seat, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, your own." Stu watches expectantly as you squeeze your hands together on your lap. "You should go."

"No," Stu stands, "I'm not leaving you like this." Before you can register what's happening, Stu is by your side, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it, I just--" He can't put it into words, and even if he could, he wouldn't be able to express it to you without making you want to call a psychologist. "I'm sorry. You know how I feel about you."

With a sigh, you look up at him. "Stu, go." You stand up, forcing him to let go of you as you start walking towards your bedroom door. "I mean it. Either go or I'm going downstairs and telling my mom I have a migraine, and she'll tell you to leave."

Stu's quiet as you take another step forward. You should have taken his silence as a warning.

You're about to walk out into the hall, but before you can make it, something strong catches you by the waist. You instinctually squirm, but Stu ignores that as he forces you down onto your bed.

A small yelp escapes your lips. You hear the door to your bedroom shut before you can sit up fully. "Stu!"

He's on you in a second, trapping you so that you're forced to stay on your back. If you were struggling to think before, being completely beneath Stu has made it impossible.

Stu's hand finds your face, his thumb soothingly moving across the apple of your cheek. "I didn't mean it." That was true. Tatum is just a part of the plan now, and an occasional lay. But you--you're his first and final thought each day. You're everything, more than you'd ever understand. "You're it for me. No matter what."

You bite your tongue, fighting to not give in to the way he's looking at you. His eyes are pure adoration. "You said that before, and look at how quickly you changed your mind. Since I'm so annoying and I have no interest in being 'the other woman' as you put it, go away."

He doesn't want to talk about this anymore. It's making him feel something that he can't name. He doesn't want you to be mad or upset, he just wants things to go back to normal.

Stu slips his hand across your cheek so that his fingers can twist themselves into your hair. Before you can question him, he presses his lips to yours.

The kiss feels different than the normal way he touches you. It's persistent despite the patience behind it. The way his mouth moves against yours is vulnerable and the way he swipes his tongue against your barely parted lips is pleading.

Your hand instinctively find his chest. You push against him with lethargic force. Stu pulls your bottom lip in between his teeth. A breathy sound that's equally surprised as it is needy escapes you. He takes that as his opening to deepen the kiss.

Just as you start feeling out of breath, Stu pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. I love you.

The thought comes so suddenly Stu has to bite his tongue hard to keep from blurting it out. It's not like he's never felt that towards you, but this is the closest he's ever come to blurting it out.

It's instinct to shut your eyes as you focus on your breathing, but you can still feel his eyes on you. You feel him move, but before you can say anything, Stu starts kissing down your cheek. You don't open your eyes until you feel teeth grazing against your jaw.

"Stu." It's supposed to be a warning.

His hands move, forcing the oversized shirt you're in to ride up enough to expose your hips. Stu squeezes the newly exposed skin as he starts to kiss down your neck. "Do you trust me?"

Yeah, after the way he's been acting, there's no way you're answering that. "There's no way I'm doing anything even remotely sexual with you after what you--"

He finds that one spot near your collarbone. Your breath catches itself in your throat. Stu moves, pushing your shirt up a little more. He kisses down your stomach. You're lost in bliss until you feel his teeth sink into the soft skin of your stomach.

You nearly jump out of your own skin. "Stu!"

Grinning at your tone, he rests his head against you, chin pressing into your hip. "What?"

You're desperate to hold onto your anger, but with the way he's looking at you? It's nearly impossible to not smile. "You're so weird."

"You love it."

Pressing your lips together, you pause to think. "I love it better than you being an asshole."

Not taking the bait, Stu squeezes your hips a little firmer, "I love that smile. It's your 'you-wish-you-were-more-mad-at-me' smile. I think that that's the smile I see the most."

Fondly rolling your eyes, you casually move your hand in order to softly comb your nails through Stu's hair. This is a cute game. "I love that my anger amuses you."

"I love when you do that thing with your nails."

You finally let yourself grin. There's just something about Stu when he's like this, all relaxed and touchy and content. "I love when I can tell you're happy."

"I love you."

Your hand pauses, still in his hair. There's no way you heard that right. "Shit," he breathes, hiding his face against the fabric of your shirt. "I said that out loud." Oh my god--you did hear that right. He just said-- "I was going to be romantic about it. I was going to take you out to that one hill where you can see all the lights from town, and then we were going to go to my place. And I was going to let you pick the movie, and I wasn't going to talk about it, even if you picked that really lame one you're always talking about."

Still in total shock, you blink, stiff beneath him. "I kinda like when you talk about the movies we watch." Stu, looks up, but you don't meet his gaze. "But that's not what we're talking about, so I um--" You shift awkwardly. "Did you mean it?"

Your rush of words come out jumbled, but Stu understands them regardless. "So much. I love you, and I'm sorry that I'm an asshole, but you're not--" He lets out a breath. His silence forces you to finally meet his gaze. "If you think the friend group and Sid can handle it right now, I'll go over to Tatum's right now and break up with her."

Stu's boldness nearly surprises him, because in that moment, he really thinks he might mean it.

Everything you want is hanging there, right in front of you. Every selfish fiber of your being wants to say yes. You want to send Stu off and have him back in your arms in less than an hour. Stu can see it, but he can also see the hesitance in your eyes. After all, you care so deeply about everyone's feelings.

"It-it wouldn't be right," you whisper, more to yourself than him, "Not that any of what we're doing has been right, but that feels meaner than it needs to be. To just completely dump her on a random Saturday night without starting to pull away to prepare her first."

"I'll start pulling away." He's glad to have something productive to latch onto. He could start to pull away from Tatum (like he hasn't already with all the time he spends with you) carefully. Not enough to get her to break up with him, just enough to ease you. He could play at that game until he and Billy finish their plans. "Really laying the ground work for a breakup starts next time I see her."

You nod absentmindedly, the excitement from his confession waning fast. You're retreating into that quiet version of yourself that comes out whenever you think too much about your arrangement.

Stu leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your side. "I think I might've already started because you're all I think about."

"Shut up."

He adjusts his hold on you, "I mean it." You still don't seem too convinced. "You can scold me as much as you want about being nicer to people or anything else. I'm in love you." You finally crack, a smile playing at your lips. "Which is something I've said three times now without you saying it back."

At that, your jaw playfully drops, "Hmm...yeah, you have said it three times now. Weird."

The glint behind Stu's eyes is dangerous. He pulls himself off of you with no warning. You're too confused to do anything until you feel his hands on you. He moves his fingers swiftly, tickling you as you squeal and try to push him off. "What were you saying?"

Through fits of giggles, you manage to get out, "Th-that I'm--" You can barely breathe as you push against him. "That I'm in love with--with a--sadist."

At that, Stu pauses. "In love with, huh?"

"Unfortunately," you sigh.

Stu throws you an exaggeratedly offended look. "Rude. You're going to need to make it up to me."

Deciding to play along, you hum in agreement, "Let me guess. You have something in mind."

Stu leans down, placing a quick kiss to your lips. "You know me so well. C'mon let's go to my place and watch a movie."

#scream 1996 #scream imagine #stu macher x reader #stu macher #scream x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface #x reader

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you-a-southpaw-doll · 4 years

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Hey, y’all! Stories Update!!

Hey, y’all. So, I know I haven’t exactly been posting much on here lately. I’ve, in a way, taken a small break from writing my Negan/JDM stories for a bit. But, that doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped writing. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! I just wanted to let y’all know that I haven’t stopped writing. In fact, I’ve been working on stories with @mychemicalimagines and @supernaturalwritingbunker. I decided I would let you know what they were, in case y’all wanted to go check ‘em out! If you love my Negan writing, feel free to check out these other stories I’ve worked on/been working on! They’re listed in alphabetical order, based on the first name then by the first name of the fic, unless otherwise stated (i.e. the Jasper Hale “You’re My…” Series). Stories we haven’t posted yet don’t have links, but everything else does. I’m hoping that I’ll get some more inspiration to keep writing for Negan here soon. We’ll see! Stay safe. Stay negative of Corona. Have fun! And as always, feel free to reach out and talk. I’m here. I just might not always reply back right away.

*For the stories listed below, I’ve separated based on which blog it’s from, and whether it’s a movie or show fic. Beyond that. I’ve separated them based on which show or movie it is, and if applicable, I’ve indicated if it’s a series or not. I’ve included the title of the story, what it’s status is (finished, in progress, or on hiatus), how many chapters there are, and the relationship pairings. If it’s on hiatus, the main reason for that, unless otherwise indicated, is that we just aren’t quite ready to finish that particular story. It’s like having a kid, watching it grow, and then them being all grown up. You wanna hold onto that innocence for as long as you can. XD Another reason that they might be on hiatus is we just haven’t had any mojo for writing it. Now, for the “in progress” stories, we are still writing those, but, some haven’t been updated in awhile because they aren’t getting enough love for us to want to continue. If you read one of them, and decide you love it, please leave feedback so we can continue it for you!

Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho@ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl @sebs-padawan @cladd716

Stories with @mychemicalimagines:

Movies:

American History X: Derek Vinyard 1. Changed Forever - One Shot - Derek Vinyard x Reader

American Pie: Chris “Oz” Ostreicher 1. Slice of Pie - In Progress - 5 of 8 Chapters - Chris “Oz” Ostreicher x OFC (Jacqueline Levenstein)

The Breakfast Club: Andrew Clark 1. Fighting Brought Me to You - On Hiatus - 2 of ? Chapters - Andrew Clark x OFC (Emily Marksman)

Final Destination: Ian McKinley 1. Are We Friends? Nope...More - One-Shot - Ian McKinley x Reader 2. Together, We Can Survive Anything - One-Shot - Ian McKinley x Reader 3. Together, We’ll Survive Anything (Part 2) - One-Shot - Ian McKinley x Reader

Friday the 13th V: Roy: 1. Friday the 13th V: Roy’s P.O.V.

Halloween: Tommy Doyle Once A Month - One-Shot - Tommy Doyle x Reader

The Hangover: Phil Wenneck 1. Doctor’s Orders for a Hangover - Finished - 17 of 17 Chapters & 1 bonus photos post) - Phil Wenneck x OFC (Emily Billings)

Harry Potter: Harry Potter 1. Loving the Boy-Who-Lived - In Progress - ? of ? Chapters - Harry Potter x OFC (Kelsey Weasley)

House of Wax: Nick Jones 1. Protected by Love - Finished - 17 of 17 Chapters - Nick Jones x OFC (Melissa Felton)

IT: Ben Hanscom 1. Ageless Love - Finished - 12 of 12 Chapters - Ben Hanscom x OFC (Emily Tozier)

Reggie “Belch” Huggins 1. A Bets a Bet - One shot - Reggie “Belch” Higgins x Reader

Richie Tozier 1. Richie...Married? - One Shot - Adult!Richie Tozier x Reader 2. Can’t Take My Eyes Off You - One Shot - Teenage!Richie Tozier x Reader

Stanley Uris 1. Best Friend...Forever - One Shot - Young!Stanley Uris x Reader 2. Shower Caps - One Shot - Young!Stanley Uris x Reader 3. Our Fights Don’t Last Long - One Shot - Young!Stanley Uris x Reader

IT: Chapter Two: Ben Hanscom 1. Forever Love - In Progress - 3 of ? Chapters - Ben Hanscom x OFC (Emily Tozier)

Jumanji: Anthony “Fridge” Johnson 1. Welcome to the Jungle - In Progress - 2 of ? Chapters - Anthony “Fridge” Johnson x OFC (Emily Gilpin)

Pirates of the Caribbean: Will Turner Pillaged Love - In Progress - 2 of ? Chapters - Will Turner x OFC (Emily Swann)

Scream: Billy Loomis 1. All Just a Scary Movie - Finished - 5 of 5 Chapters - Billy Loomis x OFC (Lindsey Prescott)

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher Punished by the Big O - One Shot - Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher (Contains Smut)

Twilight: Carlisle Cullen 1. Love As Old As Time - In Progress - ? of ? Chapters - Carlisle Cullen x OFC (Elizabeth Clarke)

Edward Cullen 1. Lost In Silence - In Progress - 1 of ? Chapters - Edward Cullen x OFC (Gabriella Swan)

Embry Call 1. Everything Changed - On Hiatus - 5 of ? Chapters - Embry Call x OFC (Hayley Uley) 2. Holly or Jolly? - Christmas Drabble - One-Shot - Embry Call x Reader

Emmett Cullen 1. Girl Almighty - On Hiatus - 3 of ? Chapters - Emmett Cullen x OFC (Jade Stanley)

Jasper Hale: 1. She’s The Original - One-Shot - Jasper Hale x Reader 2. You’re My...Series (In Order) (MOST POPULAR) 2a. You’re My Monster - Finished - 8 of 8 Chapters - Jasper Hale x OFC (Alexia Swan) & Alice Cullen x Kevin Hale (OMC) 2b. You’re My Love - Finished - 7 of 7 Chapters - Jasper Hale x OFC (Alexia Swan) & Alice Cullen x Kevin Hale (OMC) 2c. You’re My Major - Finished - 6 of 6 Chapters - Jasper Hale x OFC (Alexia Swan) & Alice Cullen x Kevin Hale (OMC) 2d. You’re My Forever - Finished - 11 of 11 Chapters - Jasper Hale x OFC (Alexia Swan) & Alice Cullen x Kevin Hale (OMC)

Paul Lahote Imprinting Changes a Man - On Hiatus - 6 of ? Chapters - Paul Lahote x OFC (Melissa Black)

***

T.V. Shows:

Criminal Minds Derek Morgan 1. Stealing Hearts - In Progress - 3 of ? Chapters - Derek Morgan x OFC (Dr. Lily Sanderson)

Spencer Reid 1. Eggnog - Christmas Drabble - One-Shot - Spencer Reid x Reader

FRIENDS Chandler Bing 1. Coal - Christmas Drabble - One-Shot - Chandler Bing x Reader

NCIS Tony DiNozzo 1. Scared, But Safe - One-Shot - Tony DiNozzo x Reader

The Office: Jim Halpert 1. Happens Like That - On Hiatus - 9 of ? Chapters - Jim Halpert x OFC (Melissa Ford)

Sons of Anarchy Jax Teller 1. Patched...But Not Broken - Finished - 5 of 5 Chapters - Jax Teller x OFC (Melissa Winston)

The Walking Dead: Negan “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” - One-Shot - Modern Santa!Negan AU - Negan x Reader (I know this is already in my masterlist, but it is a story I worked on with @mychemicalimagines, so I felt it only right to include it here!)

Rick Grimes 1. Always My World- In Progress - 7 of ? Chapter - Rick Grimes x OFC (Emily Walsh) 2. I Found You - One-Shot - RickGrimes x Daughter!Reader (non-romantic, paternal relationship ONLY)

***

Celebs:

Jeffrey Dean Morgan: 1. Baby Negan In The Making - One-Shot - Jeffrey Dean Morgan x OFC (Unnamed wife)

Johnny Knoxville 1. In Sickness and In Health - One-Shot - Johnny Knoxville x Reader

***

Stories with @supernaturalwritingbunker:

T.V. Shows:

Supernatural Dean Winchester 1. Apple Pie Life - One-Shot - Dean Winchester x Reader 2. Dinner Date with the Winchesters - One-Shot - Dean Winchester x Reader 3. Self-Esteem - One-Shot - Dean Winchester x Reader 4. Published Before Editing - In Hiatus - 1 of ? Chapters - Dean Winchester x OFC (Emily Morgan) 5. Can’t Stop Loving You - ? of ? Chapters - Dean Winchester x OFC (Michaela “Mickey” Storm)

Sam Winchester 1. Take Back Home Girl - One-Shot - Sam Winchester x Reader 2. Repeated Words - One-Shot - Sam Winchester x Reader

***

Celebs:

Jensen Ackles 1. Social Media Love - Social Media!AU - 1 of 1 Chapters (18 Photos) - Jensen Ackles x OFC (Hazel Armstrong)

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serialkillerclaw · 5 years

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requests open

starting out to even see if this goes anywhere. i don’t bite, so send some things in! also, if you want to request a character, feel free and i’ll see what i can do! if you have any questions, send them in, too! <3

characters

Michael Myers (Halloween)

Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th)

Thomas Hewitt (TCM: The Beginning)

Bubba Sawyer (TCM)

Hannibal Lecter (Hannibal TV Show & Silence of the Lambs)

Norman Bates (Psycho)

Brahms Hillshire (The Boy)

Stu & Billy (Scream)

Herbert West (Re-Animator)

Dan Cain (Re-Animator)

Sweeney Todd (Sweeney Todd)

Nathan Wallace (Repo! The Genetic Opera)

Graverobber (Repo! The Genetic Opera)

Hellboy (Hellboy)

Abe Sapien (Hellboy)

Nuada (Hellboy)

Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)

will add more as they come!

types of content

headcanons

gif imagines

short fics

drabbles

rules

I WILL WRITE:

angst and fluff

soMe smut

soMe kinks

soMe sensitive/controversial topics

write for all genders, sexualities, etc; i try to keep most everything gender-neutral unless specified otherwise

up to 5 people per request

I WON'T:

write non-con/rape

slasher x slasher

write for children/underage

p/dophilia

watersports/scat, anything of that nature

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saphyrenights · 5 years

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Pick 5 shows, then answer the following questions, don’t cheat. Tag 10 (or however many) people.

Stargate SG-1

Star Trek: Voyager

Teen Wolf

House, MD

Xena: Warrior Princess

1. Who is your favourite character in 2?

I don’t dislike anyone on Voyager, which is rare for me. I give Neelix a lot of shit, but I do actually like him. A little. :) When I was a kid, Tom Paris was my fave, probably because he was a Gary Stu who never got called out as a Gary Stu, and that appealed to me in middle school oop. As an adult, tho, I love Seven of Nine. She probably has the most character development of anyone on the show. Harry is second, but poor guy never got promoted. Not his fault, but it stunted some of his potential development ;_; So, I’m gonna say Seven of Nine.

2. Who is your least favourite character in 1?

Rodney McKay. I was so glad when they shipped his annoying ass off to Atlantis. I know the writers were presenting his constant misogynistic harassment of Sam as “humorous,” but it really wasn’t. Sam deserved better.

3. What is your favourite episode of 4?

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh. God. Ummm....this list is way too long. Since it’s been a really long time since I bothered to remember individual House episode names, I can only describe the episode. It’s in the show’s final season when Shit’s Getting Real, and the writers are finally like “lol fuck it” and wrote Wilson sobbing to House, “I need you to tell me that you love me!” Suddenly, all of that subtext from over the years became canon. The little jokes, the winks and nods, they all paid off in the end. I remember being FLOORED that a network show just Did That. I’m just sad that Wilson had to be literally dying before we got it.

4. What is your favourite season of 5?

Again, it’s been a VERY long time since my memory needed to be this sharp for an old show, but I’m going to say all of the seasons EXCEPT for the last one. It was all over the place, and then Xena just fukkin dies. I get that it was a noble sacrifice, but why couldn’t Xena and Gabrielle live happily ever after? Gabby becomes a famous bard, Xena opens a dojo or something, they get married, do a lil farming on the side, boom. Done. Happy ending. But nooooo....

5. Who is your favourite couple in 3?

Season 5 was completely deleted from my memory through a very complicated and delicate brain operation I never told y’all about it. So it’s still Sciles. Feels good, man. :)

6. Who is your favourite couple in 2?

B’Elanna and Tom. But if I could picked a polyship, it’d be B’Elanna/Tom/Harry. 👀

7. What is your favourite episode of 1?

"Abyss” is almost always at the top of my list, but “Orpheus” is damn good, too. I’m picking both of those, and you can’t stop me.

8. What is your favourite episode of 5?

“The Bitter Suite!” It’s a really fun episode. And I remembered the name of it. :)

9. What is your favourite season of 2?

Probably season 4.

10. How long have you watched 1?

I started watching in season 3. SG-1 was still on Showtime, and aired on Friday nights. I usually had football games to attend (I was in marching band), so I’d set up the VCR to tape the show, and I’d watch it when I got home. My first full SG-1 ep was “Legacy.” I caught up with the first two seasons in syndication, and I was all caught up by the time season 5 came around.

11. How did you become interested in 3?

I read some Big Wolf on Campus fanfic that crossed over with Teen Wolf. So I decided to watch Teen Wolf to see what all the fuss was about. I’m not going to go into details, but the fic I read wildly mischaracterized the show. I’m glad I checked it out for myself. I ended up loving Scott McCall so much, in spite of that stupid fic.

12. Who is your favourite actor in 4?

Robert Sean Leonard.

13. Which do you prefer, 1, 2, or 5?

Yeah, I’m gonna echo Divvy here and just say, “Fuck you” to this question lol

14. Which show have you seen more episodes of, 1 or 3 ?

SG1 literally aired over 100 more episodes that Teen Wolf, so um, math.

15. If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?

A dying patient of the week who watches all these doctors hash out their personal drama over my deathbed while I collect all the tea they’re recklessly spilling, and then I get cured at the last second from a stupid disease I got from eating cat litter or something. Don’t ask why I was eating cat litter. That’s not for House’s team to decide, which is why I didn’t immediately tell anyone I ate cat litter when I was first admitted. All I know is that at least six of those doctors are fucking each other, one is on meth, and another one definitely killed a guy on purpose.

16. Would a crossover between 3 and 4 work?

Teen Wolf and House? Sure. Melissa transfers to New Jersey, Scott eventually follows her since a couple of his pack members are already on the east coast after they all graduate high school and deal with the bounty hunter mess. Scott decides to go to med school (some of his vet school credits might transfer, who knows), and he ends up at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He only sees House in the halls, because I don’t want Actual Ray of Sunshine Scott McCall coming in direct contact with House. He hangs out with the ducklings, tho. And he does rounds with Wilson, who takes a huge liking to him and his ability to literally make patients feel better just by holding their hand...ohhh, this could be a fun sandbox to play in. I just might...eat...some sand...

17. Pair two characters in 1 who would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple?

Jack and Maybourne. I SAID IT! Oh, and Daniel/Martouf because I shipped it when I was in like 8th grade lmao. Everything else I’m thinking, like Sam/Janet, Daniel/Teal’c, Jack/Daniel, Sam/Martouf...none of those are that unlikely. Aside from the dead people, but y’know.

18. Overall, which show has the better storyline, 3 or 5?

Let’s be honest; the writing on both Teen Wolf and Xena was never anything to get excited over. Huge plot holes, inconsistent characterization, incoherent plots, they all pretty much made up the overall experience of watching these shows. But I didn’t watch for that stuff. I just liked fun stories and nice characters. I don’t care if they didn’t make sense. Xena jumps 10 feet straight up in the air and somersaults through an open window while catching her chakram mid flip? Fantastic! Everyone in Beacon Hills suddenly becomes broke af and are struggling to pay bills because it serves the plot for one season and one season only? Great! Gabrielle gives birth to an evil doppelganger? Okay! Where did Kira go? Huh? WHere DID SHE GODOHDOJDLJD

tl;dr: neither one lmao

19. Which has the better theme music, 2 or 4?

There’s no competing with Jerry Goldsmith. Sorry, Massive Attack.

Cool, cool, cool. I’m going to tag: @anomalagous , @runicscribbles, @kimmykun, @intthewoodsomewhere, @lozenger8, @elfysparkles88, @theboywiththepurplesocks, @tombwolf, @carelesswhisper41, @pissoffghosts

#i'm too lazy to tag this #bye

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iridescentwinters · 6 years

Text

roomie love

— summary: zoë is not particularly happy with the state of her shared apartment after she returns from a short holiday, and gets into a massive argument with her roommate senne.

↳ also available on ao3

zoë was welcomed home to the sight of stale, rotting pizza leftovers in their boxes sitting on the dining table, alcohol bottles lying around the living room, the smell of nicotine. and most definitely the smell of gross body odour that only males could produce.

the blonde’s head was pounding in misery. great, she thought to herself, as she threw her keys onto the coffee table and arranged her suitcase and bags nicely against the wall. i go for a weekend trip and a shitstorm happens. she sighed. i don’t know why i was trying to convince myself he could keep things orderly here without me….

“senne?” she yelled out her roommate’s name, but as she walked further into the living room, she heard the faint booming of music coming from one of the rooms. obviously senne’s.

okay, zoë took a deep breath, trying to push down her anger. she’d been living with senne long enough to keep her anger in check, along with her patience. and boy, did her patience level soar above the roof when she started living with a ma–senne.

it was the sound of plastic that was made under her boot that made her lose all of her cool.

that plastic was a condom, by the way. a very used one.

that’s it. zoë marched up to senne’s door and pounded her fist against it, ready to tear it down. “senne de smet!” the blonde yelled, “open the damn door now!” she continued to knock aggressively, despite the music coming to a halt, and she could hear a pair of feet shuffling towards the door.

the door finally swung open, and zoë’s handsome roommate leaned against the door, a lazy grin on his face. “zoë!” he exclaimed, extending his arm out towards her, wanting to hug her. “you’re home! finally.” his grin was suddenly replaced with a shy smile. “i missed you.”

zoë’s face remained livid. “explain to me the state of our goddamn apartment!” she exclaimed, her hand waving flailing in a wild manner. “the entrance is blocked with shoes lying around everywhere, the kitchen is a stinking mess, the living room is trashed, and i had to step on a fucking condom!”

senne’s smile dropped and was replaced with a disgusted look. he then turned to face his friends. “jesus christ gust,” he addressed one of his friends who had a sheepish look on his face, “did you really not throw out your damn trash?”

zoë grabbed senne’s face, getting him to focus back on her. “oh no,” she warned, “you aren’t going to play ‘disappointed host’ now.” pulling the boy away from the room (which received a few hoots from his friends), she closed the door and faced him.

senne tried to speak. “zoë, i’m sorry. i just had a small get-together friday night after you left and it kinda went a little overboard and i woke up with a killer hangover–”

“save it, senne.” the blonde halted his speech. “i can’t believe you right now! you had a party, fine. but it was your party–” she poked his chest, “and you need to clean up after you’re done. you can’t just leave the place in this state!” she exclaimed, her temperature soaring. “you can’t just pretend that you own this whole damn place. i live here too, if you can’t remember.” she added sarcastically at the end.

senne rubbed his temples. “come on, zoë.” he groaned. “i said i was sorry! i was going to clean up a little later today before you came home but you showed up earlier than you said you would.”

the blonde blinked in surprise. “oh, so it’s somehow my fault now?”

senne gave her an ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look. “you and i both know that’s not what i said.” he was starting to sound frustrated. “jesus, zoë. stop twisting everything i say!” he raised his voice a little. “will you stop acting like my mom for 5 seconds?”

zoë’s face fell, and her expression became stony. “right, sorry.” she sounded cool. “just because i want this apartment to be a place where we could live in comfortably to a certain degree, makes me sound like your mother.” she said, sounding a little hurt. they’d been roommates for almost a year now and that’s led to some heart to heart discussions where they’ve opened up about each other’s family situations. being compared to senne’s mother was the best kind of insult to use if you really wanted to hurt someone that bad.

senne’s eyes softened. “wait, i didn’t–”

“you know what, seppe?” zoë always called him by the wrong name whenever she was mad mad at him, “if living with me is such a hassle, maybe i should just move out. this is your apartment, after all. you had it first.”

senne’s eyes widened. “what?” he asked in bewilderment. “zoë, no. you can’t possibly be serious–”

zoë turned around, and walked towards the living room. “no! no, i am serious.” her voice cracked a little, and she cursed herself for being that kind of person that felt the need to cry whenever she had an argument with senne. “i have enough clothes on me right now, and i could just stay at jana’s before i get a new apartment and then i’ll get my stu–”

senne grabbed her by her arm and twirled her into his embrace. zoë tried to slither her way out of his grip, but gave up a few seconds after. she could never fight against his hugs. “i’m so sorry.” he mumbled, kissing the side of her head. “i should have never said anything. and i didn’t mean what i said at all, about you acting like her.” he gently pried her off of his chest to look at her. she refused to meet his gaze.

“hey, you.” he said softly, holding her face and pushing her chin forward so that her eyes would meet his. and they reluctantly did. “i’m really really sorry. just….” he trailed off for a moment. “don’t leave me. please.”

zoë didn’t say anything, only held his gaze. he continued to speak. “i swear to God i will clean up this mess. and i’ll kick the guys out. and i’ll do whatever you want me to do. do all of the chores for how long you want, or-or pay for all your food next time we go out or take-in, or shopping, or–anything you want.” he sounded desperate. “just, don’t leave me.”

zoë took a deep breath. truth be told, she wasn’t really planning to leave for good. this was her–their apartment. and she loved it more than anything. and she admittedly lo-liked her roommate. senne acted like a typical playboy the first two weeks they started living together, but then she got to know him, and his flirty defense mechanisms died around her.

his vulnerability in that moment made her heartbeat slow down achingly. she wrapped her fingers around his arms. “i’m not.” she assured him, making him let out an anxious breath he was holding onto. “i’m not going anywhere.”

without any warning, senne dipped his head down and brushed his lips against hers. he froze, coming to his senses for a split second, but that moment of panic left when zoë kissed him back. they both definitely wanted to do that for quite some time.

“woohoo senne!”

luka’s voice made the duo break apart, and look back in the hallway where the boy was standing. “attaboy! finally stopped acting like a pussy, huh?”

senne and zoë both rolled their eyes at him, and gave him the finger simultaneously. luka scoffed, muttering something about them being too uptight, before disappearing into senne’s room again.

senne then looked back at zoë with a grin. “guess i better get to my pending jobs, then.” he said. “first thing is definitely kicking those losers out.” he smirked, leaning close to the girl again. “do i get a kiss for good luck?”

zoë smiled sweetly, before pushing him away. “you wish, seppe.” she snapped playfully. “now get to work.” she walked towards the hallway, but looked back at the boy. “get my bags to my room too.” she ordered.

senne licked his lips before nodding. “yes ma’am.” he two-finger saluted her. “but i demand a damn good reward after i’m done.”

zoë grinned devilishly. “we’ll see about that.”

woohoo first ever zoenne fic!

also, take a shot every time i use william’s “hey, you” in fics 😭

#wtfock #skam belgium #zoë loockx #senne de smet #zoë x senne #zoenne #roommates!au

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stusbunker · 5 years

Text

The Crumbling Difference Between Wrong and Right

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Reader/ Unnamed Female Character

Word Count: 2085

Summary: Sam looks back over their time together only to find more questions than answers.

Warnings: Grief, character death, mental illness, assumed suicidal recklessness, smut adjacent, show level violence, letting go. Flashbacks in italics.

Beta-work and Beautiful aesthetic from @thoughtslikeaminefield

Title from Round Here by Counting Crows

^*^*^*^

She left him often. In big ways and small. He didn’t always notice, and she never really meant to, but it stung all the same. Sam had grown from instability, on resourcefulness and strategy. She grew like a wildflower in a manicured lawn, beautiful in an out-of-place kind of way; defiant in her radiance. He didn’t know if she was coming home until she did. Then, she didn’t.

Dean watched Sam watch the pyre, the flames reflecting in his eyes as tears dribbled out, heavy with the unsaid.

They found her two days too late, the rancid den caked in filth as they dragged her away from what remained of the ghouls. She always had a knack for finding hideouts, it would have been helpful if they’d known she’d been on the case. She wasn’t one to hunt alone.

Dean stood in the beating wind as long as Sam needed, watching the fire take her away for good. He almost hated her in that moment, seeing what she did to Sam--- what she always did to him.

^*^*^

Sam found her at the bathroom mirror, making faces at herself, teeth bared and eyes aghast, barefoot in yesterday’s shirt. He always seemed to breathe deeper with her around and he took a few hollowing ones before he asked when she got in.

She giggled once she realized he was there, feigning a casual demeanor as she answered softly. He met her at the sink, arms reaching around her for his toothbrush and paste, working through her space instead of moving her, comfortable without being cumbersome. Physically, they had always existed like a Venn diagram, if not touching, overlapping to the point where they were hard to differentiate.

She played with his hair as he went through his routine, emphasizing his rolling eyes before he pinned her to his chest, freshly shaved chin wedging between her shoulder and neck. She stayed for three months after that morning, almost long enough for it to feel real.

^*^*^

Donna’s laugh broke through the conversation, another round of beers passed between them as she told Jody and Donna about their last case, mocking Dean’s angry eyes and keeping her hand snugly in Sam’s back pocket. Sam loved to listen to her stories, even if he had lived them, she never failed to put on a show. It was safe here, with friends, because she didn’t feel the pressure to perform, to entertain, to earn her space. Here they all shared smiles, those that weren’t a currency.

On the back porch, Sam felt Jody sigh at them in a nostalgic and approving sort of way. It filled him with a warmth that Dean’s appraising glances had sapped. He nodded back through the kitchen window before settling in on the old picnic table beside her.

Eyes drifting to the stark winter sky, two borrowed blankets tight over her shoulders, she shivered and shined into the dark. That was the night he decided he’d wait for her forever. If she left for twenty years, he’d be there when she wandered home. If it was love, it was one that could only exist between two broken hunters who, at their cores, were optimists.

Sam left her to her stargazing, rejoining the dwindling post hunt ruckus. Dean half expected her to set up camp in Jody’s backyard; she’d gotten so comfortable with their friends. Even Claire seemed to tolerate her. He didn’t quite get it, but he kept that to himself. They left with the sun and were back in the bunker by lunchtime.

^*^*^

On one of her sudden appearances, she showed up just to shut down for a week.

She wouldn’t go outside, barely leaving their bedroom. She hummed to herself when she thought no one was within earshot. Sam found her on the fourth day, crying in frustration from crying.

Silently, he picked her up, laid her on the bed and curled around her until she quieted. Once she had control of her breathing, he started talking about his dad--- about the dozens of schools, the motels and the countless boxes of macaroni.

He told her about Dean and how his every good memory always trailed back to his big brother bearing more than any kid should. He talked about how he had accepted himself as a freak before he understood what was truly wrong with him. He whispered about regret and vice and promises of better days.

She listened, his voice her anchor in the abyss, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t offer him anything in return. Inside, she knew her stories didn’t matter, because she was defective. The bad things that had happened to her were not centuries in the making, weren’t earth shattering or soul crushing. Her weaknesses could be boiled down to a simple inaptitude for life in the linear. No one said it out loud, but even by hunters’ standards, she was a mess. It took two long cases and a salt and burn before Sam caught her true smile again. It felt like a secret honor to know which of her faces were genuine, which ones only shone in his presence.

Relief was good for dreaming.

^*^*^

Sam didn’t know who to call. He scrolled through her phone searching for names that struck something in his memory. So many had cities for last names he wasn’t sure he should try so hard. Then he worried there were others like him somewhere, and he would want to know, if he hadn’t been there to find her. Even if it was another guy’s voice breaking the news. Eventually he worked out how to add on to her outgoing message, letting whoever called know that she was gone. Never to be sure that there weren’t any others. That his name was the only one in three blaring capitals, a beacon and a prayer in her mind.

Dean watched him keep the thing charged, a new routine to cling to. Dean didn’t care how he managed it as long as he was staying above the breakers. Sam was a tough son-of-a-bitch, they both should have been used to this by now.

^*^*^

She stretched over his torso, slamming the alarm clock with a finality much heavier than five more minutes. Her breasts pillowed her collapse onto his ribs, settling in, mumbling through her pout.

He’d been awake, counting her breaths, allowing his own to overpower his need to move. Her legs tangled around his, a welcomed trap. They lingered in the lazy kisses, teasing and priming and tickling until lines were drawn and eyes snapped open. Dimples and teeth, breaking her down just to coax a certain grin from her pleading lips.

Once he was done with her, she fell back asleep stubbornly with only the pillows to cling to. Sam had stolen the blankets, another demand left unfulfilled. Of course, he’d rather keep her in his bed than not, asleep or otherwise. The pillowcases would keep her scent for him long enough to stave off the usual melancholy of missing her.

^*^*^

Dean wasn’t expecting her to show up, but it happened to be one of the times he underestimated her. She hugged him, long and tight, longer when he tried to pull away.

Sam almost laughed at the look on his brother’s face, until he remembered what brought her back this time. Their mom was dead, even if Dean wasn’t talking about it.

She didn’t hug Sam like she did Dean, instead she cupped his jaw and stared into his eyes, helping him allow himself to be seen. He sniffed against the onslaught, shaking his head as she softened further, leaning up to kiss his forehead. He dropped his face to her shoulder and cried, hands at her shoulders, bracing himself against her, his long-weathered rock.

She always knew Dean didn’t trust her, but she never blamed him; after all, she didn’t trust herself. They let Sam organize the tribute to Mary, she sensed whenever a new group of hunters showed up to pay their respects, their presence only added to Dean’s annoyance.

She had met Mary in passing, not long enough an acquaintance to have something to add to the stories. But she got to experience Mary’s strongest legacy each time she caught Dean checking on Sam, when Sam chided Dean’s eating habits. These boys existed because a hunter tried to live a normal, safe life and died in the process. Even eventually accepting her family’s calling, led Mary to another early death.

Fair had never been in their vocabulary.

As fast as they gathered, the hunters dispersed, leaving the Bunker to the boys and their sometimes roommate. That night Sam told her about seeing his mom as a ghost and again as a young woman, but nothing had prepared him for her return.

She felt the slightly bitter tone as he explained how Dean was Mary’s favorite, saw how he tried to bury that truth with logic and grace. At least she was with John now, they agreed. Uncertain what afterlife meant for them, both with pieces of their hearts already waiting for them in the beyond.

Sam felt her leave on the third morning, quick and quiet, no ceremony or farewell. It was the last time he’d see her alive.

If she’d known, would she have broken the pattern and stayed? Would she have come back at all?

^*^*^

The bodies were few and far between, teasing her resolve as she stumbled on the remains during an entirely different hunt. She hated a mystery, and this one kept her awake, a puzzle with an unseen timer. A different victim, a different deadline.

She didn’t have enough to bring it to Sam and Dean, though she did have a gnawing uncertainty and a four-county-wide dumpsite. One of the burdens and blessings of a mind like hers was its ability to focus on a task and ignore all others. Unchecked, she’d tread the gap between obsessed and consumed.

They drained her slowly, in turns. Fresh wounds against old scars, she watched them enjoy her bounty. Eventually she made her peace and stopped searching for spite or regrets or something to hold onto.

Instead she thought about Sam, somewhere safe. Head propped up on his hand at the library table, laptop open and a book in his lap; the way he could sleep sitting up; his big hand that was always warm. How lucky she was for knowing him, how much she hoped for him, and even some soft afterthoughts for Dean.

She let go thinking about the greens and browns of the earth and the blues and blacks of the sky--- eyes up and smile on.

^*^*^

The ghoul had lured him in with her face, but it couldn’t mimic her light.

Sam swung first, causing Dean to nearly fall on his ass in shock. The partner took the opening and got a solid elbow to Dean’s neck. It was over before Sam could make it worth it, before Dean found her, cold and empty.

The desperation surged through Sam, denial numbing his hands to the stiffness of her body, covering the stench of decay. He cradled her to his chest, impossibly smaller than ever before. A shell of her larger than life soul.

At the pyre, Sam felt Dean’s silent suspicions, but he wouldn’t entertain it. It was so vapidly inappropriate that it churned his stomach to try to reason with it.

Instead, he watched the fire burn, slow to tear into her, knowing its own and acknowledging the loss, before calling her back from whence she came: energy and ether.

^*^*^

The visions had grown more gruesome, the taste of demon blood stuck on his tongue.

Sam felt Chuck’s revisions without calculating their weight. His mind had enough to process. When she started toeing in their periphery, he wouldn’t look back at her. He refused to even acknowledge her presence. It was only in his head.

Her timing was better than this. Sam let her remain in the audience, let Chuck taunt him without overwhelming him. It was time she got to see his demons. He had juggled enough of hers.

When Chuck was finally finished and Sam felt himself slipping away, her voice carried him over the final barrier, to where Jess and Bobby, Mary and John were waiting for him. Of course, Dean brought her up, asking if Sam had seen her since they arrived. Sam sighed and shook his head at Dean, content and reassuring, “Can’t keep what doesn’t want to stay.”

^*^*^*^

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam angst #sam/reader #character death #grief #sam x reader #sam x unnamed female #Stu's 5 Fic Fridays #new fic

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stusbunker · 5 years

Text

Feels Like the First Time

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam Winchester/ Rowena Macleod

Written for @spnkinkbingo

Square Filled: Amnesia

Word Count: ~3400

Summary: Rowena takes Sam seriously and indulges them both.

Lovely Banner made by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Warnings: 18yo+, memory wipe, smut, multiple orgasms, hinted public sex, size difference, magically enhanced sex, annoyed as hell Dean.

^*^*^

He sensed her presence before she said a word, a subtle tingle that started at the base of his neck and sank down his spine, pulling his shoulders back and head up. Sam stood tall; his eyes darting about until he was reassured what the instinctive alarm meant. In unnatural quiet, Rowena had draped herself against the doorframe, amused yet calculating as she watched them ready the ingredients. He couldn’t help but swallow at the sight of her, coiffed and elegant, something so out of place in his boots-on-the-ground, blood-under-the-fingernails kind of life.

“Hello, boys,” Rowena purred, decadent eyes sinking into his very being.

“Bout time you showed up,” Dean grumbled, dropping the spell book he had been using onto the table beside the muslin mat. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and gave her a knowing shrug.

“A bit surly aren’t ye? What’s a matter Dean, flask dry already?” Rowena bated, holding her hair to the side as she unwrapped the belt on her coat. Beneath it she was dressed in a rich maroon blazer, accented with gold, her tiny waist pinched by a matching pencil skirt. The cream-colored blouse was only a shade darker than her porcelain skin. Sam couldn’t help but wonder what was softer the satin or the parts of her it covered. Quickly, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and his eyes off their witch-to-the-rescue to help finish preparing the ingredients for the spell.

Sam couldn’t get his hands to work properly, they were thicker now, the joints moving sluggishly. But, eventually, he had the dry ingredients diced as Rowena mixed the mucus and moss. Dean seemed to teeter over them, unsure what to do as he waited, constantly blowing or patting at his hair.

“Alright, side-by-side you go,” she instructed with a curt nod. She paced in front of them as they settled in place, shallow bowl in her left hand as she began to recite the spell. She stopped in front of Sam first, eyes wide as she continued to chant, when he didn’t understand she beckoned him lower with a quick tug at his neck with her free hand. With a cackle from Dean, they both bent over, allowing her to cover their foreheads with the tar like concoction. At least, it didn’t smell like anything worse than a mud mask, Dean thought.

Once Sam and Dean wore matching bands of sludge over their brows Rowena finished the spell, voice rising in pristine Latin. The moment the final word was spoken, they both fell to the floor, unconscious. Rowena daintily stepped over their bulk of muscle and limbs, to return her ingredients to their containers. She left the hunters where they lay and made her way to the library.

An hour later, that is where Sam found her, sipping on Dean’s hidden stash of Scotch, reading. Being back in his own body again magnified every sensation, from the weight of his footsteps to the fit of his clothes. Though mostly it was the hunger, the raw aching need to touch and to take, to fill and be filled. Sam needed her and now that his hands were again his to control; he didn’t hesitate. Without a word he fell to his knees at her feet, hands resting beside her delicate shoulders on the wooden chair. If she was shocked by his antics, she didn’t let on. With a silent plea and panting breaths Sam huffed out his desperation with hazel intensity.

Carefully setting her glass down, Rowena reached up, and crumbled the remnants of the spell from his face. Her tiny fingers were cold yet soothing, and Sam leaned into her touch, eyes closing in submission.

She leaned forwards, rubied lips gliding passed his until she spoke hot and dark into his ear, “I don’t suppose you’d like to thank me in private?”

Sam’s whole body shuddered, and a strangled groan was the only audible sound before he cupped her face and kissed her senseless. She broke away and snaked her hands behind his neck, locking him to her as she rubbed her nose against his. With matching grins and general disregard for Dean who was also righted, but stumbling out of the dungeon, they tucked away in Sam’s room for the foreseeable future.

Hours later, they lay naked in each other's arms, Sam’s fingers threading through Rowena’s bright hair as she walked her nails over his chest. They sighed in the contented warmth, a mutual relief in ending up there at last. She was silently pleased that he was the one to instigate it after all his inane posturing, but he was a Winchester after all. Rowena nipped up his jaw as he faced the ceiling, lids heavy above a blissful smirk. His dimples were simply scandalous, of course she had to bite each one once they popped up again. Sam’s hand left her hair, sinking to drag her hip tight to his side. It simply fell back, teasing the cleft of her backside, one massive hand encasing her.

“I can’t believe that actually happened,” Sam said softly, devilishly down his nose to her.

“Don’t tell me you need a reminder already, Samuel, I’m too sore for that yet,” Rowena warned, eyes melodramatically aghast.

Sam chuckled, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “No, just, it’d been a long time comin’.”

“Really now?” Rowena deadpanned. “I wonder why, Mister High-and-Mighty…”

Sam swatted her ass, dragging her on top of him as he feigned innocence. “Well, you are completely out of my league.”

Rowena’s bottom lip popped out in consideration before she nodded. “True, poor boy. What will I do with one such as you?”

She began to rock along his reawakened cock, graceful glides of her supple skin against his, nails digging into his upper arms as she looked him over. Sam hummed appreciatively as she sank down onto him, hot and swollen. “Thought you were sore.”

She raised an eyebrow in return. “I thought you knew better than to question me. I take what I want,” her teeth were tight over the last word, before she leaned forward and kissed Sam again. His hands gripped her ribcage, thumbs tracing beneath her perfect tits as he thrust back into her. She arched backwards with cantered grace, letting the depths of her magic pull their bodies into a final crescendo. It was maddening how amazing it was. Sam crashed in a state of euphoria that seemed too much for his mind to process. Maybe it was Rowena’s lingering magic, maybe it was just her, but Sam no longer believed Heaven existed on the other side of a sandbox.

“Oh gods,” Rowena fell forward with a hearty moan, her chest firm and comforting, a slender smothering Sam welcomed. He nuzzled the edge of a nipple, pinning her narrow waist in a hearty hug.

“That was—” Sam sputtered.

“Aye,” Rowena agreed, smiling easily as she took her turn to play with his hair.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think we can top that,” Sam sighed, delighted and dazed by their coupling. “Maybe it was because it was our first time—"

“Hardly,” she tatted.

“You know what I mean,” Sam stared at her suddenly serious, perhaps even a little self-conscious. Sam looked up at her with those puppy dog eyes that she couldn’t stand. “I’d do it all over again.”

Rowena gave a noncommittal reply before slinking her legs together and dropping to the floor. She dragged the comforter back onto the bed to cocoon inside as her body temperature evened. She let Sam hold her tight, finding his hand over her elbow oddly soothing as she drifted off with Sam’s natural furnace adding to her warmth. She awoke with the crack of dawn, and sinful inspiration.

^*^*^

“So, she’d just bail on you? Kinda harsh,” Dean patted Sam’s back as he sat alone in the kitchen.

Sam turned to his brother in confusion. “Who bailed? What are you talking about?”

Dean stared at Sam and then shifted his weight on his feet and leaned in to really focus on him. “Rowena? Witch? About yea-high?”

“Rowena? Why would Rowena be bailing on me? I haven’t seen her in weeks,” Sam laughed awkwardly. “You okay, man? Still drunk maybe?”

Dean swallowed a mouthful of scalding hot coffee and choked. Once he could get the words out, he came back at Sam, “Trying to play it sly, really?! After the fucking show you guys put on last night. I think I went deaf in this ear trying to drown you guys out.”

“Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam tried not to laugh, but Dean’s absurd aggression over the impossible implication of hooking up with Rowena made it difficult.

“Listen, you don’t want to admit to getting walked out on, fine. But I have just one question. Carpet match the drapes?” Dean’s eyebrows pitched over his mug. Sam stood up without an answer, shaking his head at his brother’s asinine inquiry.

^*^*^

Their next case, Rowena appeared out of the woodwork, sashaying into the crime scene with credentials from Scotland Yard and a mean streak a mile long. The locals were falling all over themselves with ma’ams and manners. Dean was not amused, especially when Sam’s voice dropped and got exponentially clumsier whenever she glanced his way.

“Why are you here?!” Dean snapped once he was left alone with her at the morgue.

“Hello, Rowena. Nice to see you again. Thanks for getting our heads back in our bodies after we blundered it up! Like always,” Rowena retorted, doing a horrible mockery of Dean’s voice.

Dean sighed, waiting for her rant to run its course. He read over the medical examiner’s report before pulling back the sheet on the latest victim, noticing intricate tattoos on the insides of each wrist.

“Seriously, what’s your angle? This case barely hit our radar, what’s it to you?” Dean pressed.

“I’m not the culprit, if that’s what you mean to say!” Rowena primped, tisking at Dean as he continued to look over the body.

“Got something to say, spit it out,” Dean snipped from across the room.

Rowena shrugged dramatically. “It’s nothing, dear. Just a wee bit of ectoplasm along the nasal passage and defensive wounds along one side of the body. But I’m sure a lifelong hunter, a professional of your caliber, noticed such things.”

Dean double flashed his phone’s flashlight up the guy’s nose to find Rowena correct, his head slumped in defeat. He called Sam at the victim’s house, in the process trying not to let Rowena out of his sight. “We got ecto on the vic.”

“Vengeful spirit, huh,” Sam thought aloud. “Okay, well, meet back at the motel? Figure out who we gotta burn?”

“Sounds good. Hide the china though, Glinda hasn’t gone back to Oz,” Dean lamented.

“Whatever you say,” Sam agreed.

^*^*^

Rowena appreciated a man that could handle physical labor, watching Sam dig the rocky grave was quite a sight. Especially since he was always more the studious type, though she knew firsthand what kind of power his body held. And she wasn’t done with him. The air seemed to hum around them as they watched Dean set the bones on fire, Sam glancing down at her as she reached up to his hair, pulling away dead grass from his efforts. Her dark eyes reflected the flames and Sam lost all sense of control, he crashed into her, mouth open and hands tugging. Dean didn’t even bother complaining, he just walked away as Sam pinned her against a tree. He let Sam walk back to the motel for that traumatizing visual.

^*^*^

Their third first time was after a long case when Rowena hadn’t been able to counteract the aftermath of another witch’s botched spell. Visibly shaken over her unexpected shortcomings, Sam held her tight as she tried not to cry. His large hand trailed over her back in languid motions, warm and soothing.

“You did what you could, no one blames you,” Sam murmured.

“I bloody should be able to clean up after an amateur, Samuel. I’ve been doing this for so long, maybe I am getting rusty,” she trailed off, not meaning to continue the trail of thought aloud.

“Hey, look at me?” Sam demanded, pulling her face up towards his with a whisk of his fingertips over her jaw. “You are as sharp as ever. Don’t let someone else’s mistakes take away from what you are.”

“And what’s that, hmm?” Rowena hummed, eyes sparkling against Sam’s intense affirmation.

“The most badass witch I have ever—” Sam huffed until his face broke open into a grin of a much younger man. “You’re amazing, you know that. I don’t have to tell you.”

She tightened her fists into his shirts. “But it sounds so much better when you say it, dear.”

Sam wiped away a stray tear that had escaped her controlled façade, thick thumb tracing her sharp cheekbone until they fell into a breath of a kiss. Tender and timid.

“I didn’t figure you’d be a gentle one,” Rowena teased, pressing against him in urgency. They moved in a trance of silent adoration and gentle longing towards Sam’s room. There, they went slowly, lips and hands exploring each other in layers. The hunger grew in his eyes as he saw each fresh strip of flesh, pale and ageless against her overstated lingerie. He kissed down her taut stomach, stubble burning as he tore away the delicate fabric keeping him from tasting her at last. He sank between her thighs as a pilgrim at a prayer rail, gracious and pleading. Swearing oaths and praising her name. She fell apart flushed with emotion; uncertain she could continue such games.

Sam tucked her into his side, holding her close as he sank into her. Filling her without his lips, eyes or hands ever leaving her skin. She writhed beneath him, keening every version of his name, shaking as he grunted into her hair, sweet nothings that meant more than anything had before. His hand splayed over her heart as he found his release, her name a promise on his lips.

She woke him with her twisted smile teasing him until he opened his eyes, her nimble fingers dwarfed by his length. He lay back and watched her work, yesterday’s makeup fading onto a somehow younger looking face. Her ancient eyes couldn’t fool him though, they poured out the things she hadn’t said, giving Sam much more than the sweet pulse of her tongue could offer. His throat bobbed as he clenched his jaw, straining as she took him deeper, cupping his balls as her wordless syllables pulled him over the edge in the still morning air.

Rowena climbed up his body, leaning back against the pillows in signature refinement as Sam groaned and stretched his waking limbs. He kissed her cheek before heading to relieve himself, lingering on the sight of her in his bed. She drank in his proud smirk before burying herself back into his sheets. He woke her late in the morning, with a strong cup of tea and a shy smile.

“So, Dean’s gone for a few hours, running errands. I don’t really know what you do for fun, but I was kind of hoping we could spend some time together?” Sam stood with his hands in his pockets, waiting for Rowena to blow him off completely.

Gracefully she set her cup on his desk. She stood, tugging at the neck of his tee shirt so it fell to the back of her knees. “Sam, my idea of fun is precisely what you’ve spent your life fighting against. I’m a witch. You’re a hunter.”

“What are you saying?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest, straightening to his full height. “Are you telling me that you didn’t want this?”

“No!” She said firmly, turning away. “Perhaps--- it was just all just well and good. Truly, the best. But—I’ve not been honest with ye. And I don’t think you’d want me taking up your free time if you knew everything.”

“Rowena, what did you do?” Sam relaxed as she dropped back to his bed, looking almost childlike in his shirt, hands gripping the edge of the mattress.

“It was something you said, the first time. The real first time, a sheoid,” she leaned into each word, eyes pleading for his patience.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam sank beside her, anger and curiosity battling within him.

“Last night wasn’t the first time I’ve shared your bed. You said you wished we could do it all over again and I thought—” Rowena couldn’t help but smile at the memory, but her voice stumbled once she saw the pain in his eyes.

“You tricked me,” Sam sighed.

She turned to face him, pulling his hand into her lap, snugly in her own. “Just a wee memory patch, I can take it away if you’d like?”

“How many?” Sam said evenly, glaring slightly into her eyes.

“How many patches or how many bouts? You need to be more specific,” Rowena teased, tongue clipping each word out.

Sam’s eyes bulged, inhaling deeply through his nose. “Both.”

“Just two patches, but it was quite a few rounds. I dare say your stamina is—” Rowena started to gush, blowing out her appreciation as she watched Sam squirm.

“You’re gonna fix my memories, but I need to know one thing before you go digging in my head again.” Sam pointed at her with his free hand.

“Alright then, out with it,” Rowena rolled her eyes, leaning back to rest on her hands, crossing her bare legs at him.

“What made you stop? You could have kept leading me along, having your way with me and wiping the slate clean. But something was different today. Why?” Sam’s voice pulled her apart, his eyes intense and knowing. He challenged her in a way only he could and she hated him for it.

She chewed on her tongue before making a pathetic offer. “I could just leave them lie. You’d be none the wiser and I could be on my way.”

Sam shook his head at her, the air thick as she felt the remnants of her emotional walls drift away on the breeze.

“You! You, stupid moose. You come in here with tea, proper strength and sugars and then you stand there, like you do. Tall and offering up your day, like some doaty loun.” Rowena groans and presses her hands to his temples, frustrated she kept going.

“Because I’m done pretending, Sam. I don’t want you to forget. Satisfied?”

Sam held her wrists, and searched her eyes, before he could say anything, she kissed him. All of her inhibitions and pretense left on the floor beside her gown. She kissed him like it would be the last time, but he didn’t let her go. He pulled her onto his lap until neither one could breathe.

“Do it.” Sam leered out of the tops of his eyes. “Before you make me forget again.” He winked at her then. She began muttering under her breath, nails digging into his scalp as she peeled away the layers dulling his memories. It was over in less than a minute. Sam’s eyes slammed closed, too many sensations flooded his system as he remembered pulling splinters out of his knuckles, unspoken for sore muscles and jaw falling into place along their lost timeline.

“There. Good as new?” Rowena waited for Sam to reply.

“You fixed us. Why would you hide that?” Sam wondered aloud. Rowena tried to shrug it off, standing as she collected her clothing.

“Hey—I’m not mad,” Sam pulled her back to him, holding her waist as she stood between his feet. “Don’t do that ever again, but I’m good, if we're good?”

“We as in—” Rowena grumbled.

“Us,” Sam nodded infectiously, dimples pulling her from her shell. She rolled her eyes and huffed defiantly.

“Fine. You want a fecking hen, Samuel. You have one. Happy?” Rowena pushed him playfully.

“Yup,” Sam pulled her back with him, popping the p. She giggled against his lips as he tucked her hair out his way.

Later that day, Dean returned, startled to find Sam and Rowena reading on the couch together. She had her hair back and barely any makeup on, but the way Sam was looking at her, Dean didn’t point out the shift. A glib ‘finally’ his only celebration.

^*^*^

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