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buckets-and-trees · 26 days ago

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Red, White & True: Kansas City - Interview Broadcast Day [9/13]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 7.6k Summary: The campaign rolls through Kansas City to make a pitstop to watch with the rest of the country as your interview with Oprah airs on Sunday night primetime television.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened. And in case you missed it, this is who I mentioned in a post that I cast to play the role of Jake, our fearless campaign manager.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The savory aroma of slow-cooked meat and smoky spices envelops you as you step out of the campaign SUV and onto the sun-baked sidewalk in front of Arthur Bryant's Barbeque. The iconic Kansas City establishment stands before you, its red brick facade and neon sign a beacon for barbecue lovers from across the nation.

Steve emerges from the vehicle behind you, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the restaurant. "I've been looking forward to this all day," he admits, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

You can't help but smile back, feeling a flutter of excitement in your own stomach. You’re beginning to believe butterflies will never stop hitting you when he smiles at you like that.

After days of campaign events and press conferences, this small detour feels like a breath of fresh air. There will still be conversations, meeting strangers, taking questions, hearing from the people, and press capturing everything second of it, but part of these kinds of stops at least feel slightly more organic. You feel like the conversations, at least, are more real, and you get to know people for who they really are in the places they actually go on a regular kind of day. The fact that it involves world-famous barbecue is just a bonus.

It’s also one of the rare days you both get to be dressed down and casual. Steve even wears a dark blue baseball cap to help lower his profile of being recognized even more.

As you approach the entrance, you and Steve reach for each others hands, fingers locking, natural as anything now.

The moment you step inside Arthur Bryant's, you're hit with a wave of nostalgia. The no-frills interior, with its simple tables and chairs, feels like stepping back in time. The walls are adorned with photos of famous patrons and news clippings, a testament to the restaurant's rich history.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with a warm smile approaches. "Captain Rogers, Mrs. Rogers, welcome to Arthur Bryant's," he says, extending his hand. "I'm Jerry, the manager. We're honored to have you here."

Steve shakes Jerry's hand firmly. "The honor is ours, Jerry. We've heard amazing things about your barbecue."

"Well, we hope to live up to the hype," Jerry chuckles. "Why don't I give you a quick tour before we get you set?"

As Jerry leads you through the restaurant, pointing out photos of past presidents and celebrities who have dined there, you can feel the eyes of other patrons on you. There are whispers and a few excited waves, but for the most part, people seem content to let you enjoy your visit.

Jerry brings you to the counter where the magic happens. The smell of smoked meat is even stronger here, making your mouth water and your stomach growl audibly. Steve glances at you with an amused smile.

"Now, what can I get for you folks?" Jerry asks.

Steve's eyes light up as he scans the menu board. "I think I'll have the burnt ends sandwich and some fries," he says.

“And you, Mrs. Rogers?”

“I want a brisket sandwich,” you reply.

“Only the half?” Jerry asks.

“With sides of the cheesy corn, baked beans, onion rings, and cole slaw,” you add.

“Atta girl!” the man grins. “This one knows how to order!” he calls out to the others around. “She’s got my vote!”

You laugh at Jerry's enthusiasm, feeling a warmth spread through you at the easy camaraderie. Steve grins and shakes his head. "I think I've been outdone," he says good-naturedly.

Jerry chuckles as he starts preparing your order. "Well, Captain, maybe I’ll swing my vote to you by the time we hit November. Now, what can I get you to drink?"

"Sweet tea for me," you say.

"Make that two," Steve adds with a smile.

As Jerry busies himself with your order, you and Steve take a moment to look around the restaurant. The dinner crowd is starting to filter in, and you can see a mix of curiosity and excitement on the faces of those who recognize you.

A young woman approaches hesitantly, her phone clutched in her hand. "Excuse me," she says, her voice slightly trembling. "I'm sorry to bother you, but would it be okay if I took a picture with you both?"

Steve responds with a warm smile. "Of course, we'd be happy to."

The young woman's face lights up. "Thank you so much! I'm Emily, by the way.” She hands her phone to a nearby friend.

You and Steve position yourselves on either side of Emily, smiling warmly as her friend snaps a few photos. As Emily checks the pictures, her excitement is palpable.

"Thank you again," she says, her eyes shining. "I've been following your campaign. It's really inspiring to see people I feel like I relate to running instead of just old white men."

“Well, technically Steve’s a very old white man,” you tease.

Steve gives you a mock glare, and Emily laughs.

“No, I guess what I mean is people who seem like people and not just politicians,” she clarifies. “I felt like that about Charlie Young before, too, and so I’m glad he’s your running mate.”

Steve's expression softens. "That means a lot, Emily. What issues are most important to you in your day to day life?"

Emily takes a deep breath, considering her answer. "I'm about to age out of my parents' insurance, and I'm worried about how I'll afford coverage on my own."

You nod sympathetically. "We'd love to hear more about your perspective if you’re willing to share."

Emily glances at her friend, who nods encouragingly. "Well," she begins, "I'm 25 and I work as a teacher's assistant. The pay isn't great, and the school district doesn't offer health insurance for part-time employees. I've been looking into private plans, but they're so expensive. I have a pre-existing condition, and I'm worried about how I'll manage my healthcare costs once I'm off my parents' plan."

Steve listens intently, his brow furrowed in concern. "We believe that access to quality, affordable healthcare is a right, not a privilege. No one should have to choose between their health and their financial stability."

You nod in agreement. "We've been hearing similar stories across the country. It's clear that our current healthcare system isn't working for many Americans, especially young people just starting their careers."

Emily smiles gratefully. "I’m not asking for hand outs - I’m working, but it needs to not feel like it’s impossible to afford to live.”

Steve nods, his expression serious. "Absolutely, Emily. You shouldn't have to struggle to afford basic necessities like healthcare while working hard and contributing to society. I want us to implement solutions that work for all Americans, not just those at the top. I think we start by simplifying the process and expand subsidies under the Affordable Care Act to make coverage more affordable for young adults and low-income workers, but next steps will involve looking to other countries who have better healthcare systems and adopting what we see is working. Detractors say that some of those other systems don’t work for everyone or they’re not perfect, but what we’ve got here isn’t much to write home about as it stands."

"And it's voices like yours that help shape our policies and remind us why this work is so important," you add.

Emily beams, clearly touched by your words. "Thank you for listening. It means a lot when I know it must be so busy for you both. Isn’t your Oprah interview airing tonight?” she asks.

“Yes, we’re just here to grab a bite and to pick up some food to take back to the campaign staff while we watch later.”

“Well, thanks again, and good luck tonight,” she says.

As Emily rejoins her friend, Jerry calls out that your order is ready. You and Steve thank him as he hands over your loaded trays.

"Enjoy your meal, folks," Jerry says with a wink. “We’ll work with your guys to load up your catering to-go boxes, y’all just enjoy.”

You and Steve thank him and then scan the bustling restaurant, looking for an open table. The dinner rush is in full swing, and most tables are already occupied. Your eyes land on a table in the corner where four men, all appearing to be in their seventies, are engaged in animated conversation over their half-eaten meals.

Steve catches your eye and nods towards the table. You both make your way over, trays in hand.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Steve says, his voice warm and friendly. "Would you mind if we joined you? Seems like all the other tables are taken."

The men look up, their eyes widening in recognition. There's a moment of stunned silence before one of them, a man with salt-and-pepper hair and kind eyes, breaks into a wide grin.

"Well, I'll be damned," he says, his voice tinged with a hint of a Southern drawl. "Sure we’ve got a space for Captain America and his peach of a wife!”

As you and Steve take your seats at the table, you can feel the energy shift. The men are clearly excited, but there's also a hint of nervousness in the air.

"I'm Bill," says the man with the Southern drawl, extending his hand to Steve. "These are my buddies Tom, Frank, and Joe. We've been coming here every Sunday for the past 20 years."

Steve shakes each of their hands in turn, his smile warm and genuine. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. I'm Steve, and this is my wife," he says, introducing you by name.

You smile and greet each of the men, feeling a sense of ease settle over the table.

"So, what brings you folks to our neck of the woods?" Frank asks, leaning forward with interest. His weathered hands cradle a half-empty glass of iced tea.

"We're just looking for the best barbecue in the country," you explain, unwrapping your brisket sandwich.

The four men all laugh heartily, and you grin before you take your first bite. Your eyes widen in appreciation. “Oh, wow. This is incredible.” The meat is tender and flavorful, practically melting in your mouth.

"Best in Kansas City," Tom nods proudly. "Been coming here since I was knee-high to a grasshopper."

As you enjoy your brisket sandwich, Steve takes a bite of his burnt ends, his eyes closing it seems to fully savor that first mouthful. "This really is something special," he agrees, reaching for a napkin.

"You've got to try this," he says, holding his sandwich across to you. You smile and lean forward for a bite, letting him feed you, hoping that not all eyes are on you.

“Mmm, that’s good, too,” you hum. “But if you offered so you could try a bite of mine in return, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

This garners another round of laughter from the men along with some hoots and some ribbing, and Steve just smirks and shakes his head at you.

“I’ll share my sides, though,” you say with a teasing smile, pushing your tray closer to the middle.

Joe, who's been quietly observing until now, clears his throat. "If you don't mind me asking, Captain, what made you decide to run for office? I mean, you've already done so much for this country."

Steve sets down his sandwich, his expression thoughtful. "Well, Joe, I've always believed in serving my country, in whatever way I can. After everything that's happened in recent years, I felt like I could do more good by working within the system, trying to bring people together and address the issues that matter most to everyday Americans."

Bill nods, a wistful look in his eyes. "It's refreshing to hear, I'll tell you that. Feels like politicians these days are more concerned with having an office than serving the people and a lot of us old-timers are worried about the direction the country's headed."

Steve’s brow furrows. "I understand those concerns," he says thoughtfully. "The world is changing rapidly, and it can be unsettling. But I believe in the resilience and spirit of the American people. We've faced challenges before, and we've always come through stronger."

Bill nods slowly, a pensive look on his face. "That's true enough - and when you say it, we can believe it because we know you’ve got old experience in those bones, too. But it feels different now, doesn't it? Like we're more divided than ever."

Steve nods solemnly, wiping his hands on a napkin. "You're right, Bill. The divisions in our country are deep, and they're not going to be healed overnight. But I believe we have more in common than what separates us. We've been crisscrossing the country, meeting people and hearing their stories. We all want safe communities, good jobs, affordable healthcare, and a bright future for our children and grandchildren."

Frank leans forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That's all well and good, Captain, but how do you plan to actually bring people together? Seems like every politician says that, but nothing ever changes. It feels like people aren't even speaking the same language anymore when it comes to politics."

You take a sip of your sweet tea, watching Steve carefully as he considers his response. You can see the determination in his eyes.

Steve leans back in his chair, his eyes scanning the faces of the men around the table. The warm glow of the restaurant's lighting casts a soft hue on their weathered features, each line and wrinkle telling a story of years lived and experiences gained.

"You're right, Frank. It does feel like we're not speaking the same language anymore. But that's exactly why I'm running as an independent candidate," Steve begins, his voice calm but filled with conviction. "I'm not beholden to either the Democratic or Republican party. This isn't just about wearing a different color tie or having a different letter next to my name on the ballot. It's about fundamentally changing from a battle for political power between red and blue to calling for consensus to see action that matters to the three hundred and thirty-four million people who live in our country."

He pauses, reaching for his sweet tea. "I believe we need to start by listening to each other again," Steve continues, his eyes meeting each of the men's gazes in turn. "Really listening, not just waiting for our turn to speak. That's why we're here, sitting with you gentlemen, sharing a meal. It's why we make these stops at local businesses and community centers across the country."

You nod in agreement, swallowing a bite of your brisket sandwich before adding, "We've found that when you sit down with people, break bread together, and have real conversations, you often discover that we're not as different as the headlines make us out to be."

Tom, speaks up. "That's all well and good, but how does that translate to actual policy? How do you bridge the gap when it comes to the big issues?"

Steve leans forward, his elbows on the table. "It starts by voting for policies, not parties. When we focus on specific issues rather than partisan loyalties, we often find more common ground than we expect. For example, take healthcare. Most Americans, regardless of political affiliation, agree that healthcare costs are too high and that something needs to be done. The disagreement is usually about how to solve the problem, not whether it exists."

He pauses to take another bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "We just spoke with a young woman over there named Emily who's worried about affording health insurance. That's not a red or blue issue - that's an American issue."

Joe nods slowly. "I can relate to that. My grandson's in the same boat."

"Exactly," Steve continues. "So instead of getting bogged down in partisan debates, we need to look at what's actually working. What can we learn from other countries? What innovative solutions are individual states implementing? We need to be willing to try new approaches and admit when something isn't working."

Frank leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That sounds good in theory, Captain, but how do you get Congress to go along with that? They seem pretty set in their ways."

Steve nods, acknowledging the challenge. "You're right, Frank. Changing the culture in Washington won't be easy. But I believe the American people are ready for a different approach. If we can build a broad coalition of voters who demand bipartisan solutions, we can put pressure on Congress to work together."

"And," you add, setting down your fork, "Steve isn't just talking about compromise for the sake of compromise. It's about finding common ground and building on it. For example, both parties agree that we need to improve our infrastructure. So let's start there and create jobs while we're at it."

Bill nods slowly, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I like the sound of that.”

The conversation eases from there to the two of you learning more about the four men and the lives they’ve led in Kansas while you eat. Once you’re finished - Steve having cleared both your trays when you’d had your fill of the collection - you take a picture with these men as well, and with Jerry and some of the staff by the counter before you leave.

When you and Steve step out of Arthur Bryant's, the warm evening air envelops you. The sun is setting, casting a golden glow over the city streets. You can still taste the smoky flavor of the barbecue, and your stomach feels pleasantly full.

A small crowd has gathered, word having spread of your presence at the iconic barbecue joint. There's a mix of excitement and curiosity in their faces as they call out greetings and words of encouragement.

Steve pauses to shake a few hands and exchange brief words with some of the gathered people. You follow suit, touched by the warmth and genuine interest of the Kansas City residents.

"Thank you for coming to our city," an older woman says, her eyes shining. "It means a lot that you're taking the time to visit places like this."

"We're honored to be here," you reply sincerely. "Thank you for your hospitality."

As you walk towards the waiting SUV, the ever-present security detail for your public outings moves seamlessly around you, a constant reminder of the enormity of what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Steve opens the door for you. Just before you step in, you turn back to wave at the small crowd, and Steve waves at them, as well.

Inside the SUV with the door closed, the calm quiet is nice. Steve's hand finds yours again, and he gives it a gentle squeeze. "That was something, wasn’t it," he says, a contented smile on his face.

You nod in agreement. "The food was incredible, but the conversations... that's what makes these stops so special."

"It really is," Steve replies, his voice thoughtful. "Every time we do something like this, I'm reminded of why we're doing all of it. It's about the Emilys and the Bills and the Jerrys."

As the SUV pulls away from Arthur Bryant's, you both settle into a comfortable silence, processing the events of the evening. Steve's thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand, a now-familiar gesture that never fails to sooth you and make you feel more connected to him. "You know," he says softly, "I was thinking about what Bill said. About how things feel different now, more divided."

You turn to face him, seeing the thoughtful expression on his face. "What are you thinking?"

Steve's brow furrows slightly. "I've seen this country go through a lot of changes, faced a lot of challenges. But there's always been this... resilience, this underlying unity that pulled us through. I wonder sometimes if we've lost sight of that."

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. "I don't think we've lost it completely. It's still there, just buried under a lot of noise and frustration and fear. What we saw tonight - people coming together, sharing a meal, having real conversations - that's the spirit of America that's always been there."

Steve nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're right. And that’s the job now - uncover that spirit again, remind people of what we can accomplish when we work together."

You shift back to get more comfortable in your seat again, but keep holding hands as you look out the window.

"Are you nervous about the Oprah interview airing tonight?" you ask, breaking the quiet.

Steve chuckles softly. "A little," he admits. "It's one thing to have these intimate conversations with people like we just did, but knowing millions will be watching..." He trails off, shaking his head slightly. “And the revelation about our marriage…”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You were amazing during the interview. Honest, authentic, just like you always are. People will respond to that."

He turns to you, his blue eyes filled with warmth. "We were amazing together," he corrects gently. "You went with me when I climbed out on that limb of truth.”

“I was feeling the need to set the record straight, too,” you reassure him. “It felt like you were reading my mind.”

He lets out a breath that apparently he was holding. “I couldn't imagine doing any of this without you now."

You feel a flutter in your chest at his words. Even after all this time, he still has that effect on you. "Well, good thing you don't have to," you reply with a soft smile.

As the SUV winds its way through the Kansas City streets, you both fall into a comfortable silence, watching the city lights flicker to life as evening overtakes the afternoon.

The weight of the campaign, the responsibility you've taken on, settles over you like a familiar blanket. There’s the mantle of potential presidential job ahead, but then there’s things like the motorcade. To come on this very small outing to get food, there were three SUVs - the one the two of you are riding in, one ahead, and one behind - and eight Secret Security men and women, plus two campaign staffers who had come to make sure things went smoothly in and out, pick up the food, and pay for everything, and Steve is only a candidate.

If he becomes president, it will only grow - more security, bigger motorcade, four years of responsibilities and obligations and opportunities and being scheduled every waking hour of the day.

As you contemplate the enormity of it all, Steve's voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asks softly, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on your hand.

You turn to him with a small smile. "Just thinking about how much our lives have changed. And how much more they would change if we win."

Steve nods, understanding in his eyes. "Sometimes I still can't believe we're here, doing this."

"Do you ever regret it?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Deciding to run?"

Steve is quiet for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "No," he says finally, his voice firm. "It's not easy, and there are days when I feel the weight of it more than others. But then I think about the people we meet all day, every day.”

“Your big heart is a sucker for people,” you tease him good-naturedly. “If only you were more surly and selfish.”

Steve chuckles at your teasing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're right, I am a sucker for people. But you're no better, Mrs. Rogers."

As you continue to banter, the SUV turns onto a tree-lined street in a quiet suburban neighborhood. The sun has fully set now, and the warm glow of streetlights illuminates rows of well-maintained houses. Each home seems to tell its own story - some with Halloween decorations already adorning their porches, others with children's bicycles left haphazardly on front lawns.

The SUV slows to a stop in front of a charming two-story house with pale yellow siding and white trim. A wrap-around porch extends across the front, complete with a porch swing gently swaying in the evening breeze. The lawn is neatly manicured, with vibrant flower beds lining the walkway.

"Home sweet home, at least for tonight," Steve says with a smile as he opens the car door. “Tell me you’re just as eager as I am to meet Jake’s family.”

“I’ve been dying of curiosity ever since we found out!” You step out of the car, walking quickly up the front sidewalk.

No one knew Jake’s sister lived in Kansas with her husband and four kids until Elsa brought up whether the team should watch the interview together at the hotel or in groups in a few of the suites when Jake said that wouldn’t be necessary - that his baby sister had insisted she wanted to host the full traveling staff in her home for it.

As you approach the front door, it swings open before you can knock. A petite woman with Jake's same dark brown eyes and infectious smile emerges, her face beaming with excitement.

"Welcome! I'm Kathy, Jake's sister," she says, extending her hand. "It's such an honor to have you both here."

Steve shakes her hand warmly. "The honor is ours, Kathy. We can’t thank you for opening your home to us."

You follow suit, greeting Kathy with a smile. "It's wonderful to finally meet you."

Kathy ushers you inside, where the aroma of freshly baked cookies mingles with the scent of coffee, and the rest of your team begins to file in behind you. The living room is cozy and inviting, with overstuffed couches and chairs arranged to face a large flat-screen TV. Campaign staff members are already scattered around the room, chatting animatedly and nibbling on chips and cookies.

The house is alive with domestic energy, a stark contrast to the usual hotel suites and conference rooms you've grown accustomed to. Children's laughter echoes from somewhere upstairs, and you can hear the distant chatter of voices coming from what you assume is the kitchen.

Kathy's husband, a tall man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper hair, emerges from the dining room. "I'm Tom," he introduces himself, shaking your hands. "We've set up a spot in the dining room for the barbecue spread.”

“Sorry for descending on you with all this chaos, Tom,” Steve apologizes.

“Oh, please, we’ve got four kids from four to sixteen, this is hardly new for us. Bring this kind of feast and you’re welcome any night of the week,” he insists.

Steve heads through to the dining room with Tom, but you make your way to the kitchen instead. Your eyes land on Bucky who’s in close conversation with campaign spokesperson Lisa and one of the new speechwriters.

They look up when they notice you.

“Where’s Sophia?” you ask. You don’t need her in this moment, but you’re so used to her finding you whenever you arrive at a new location if she isn’t already with you that it’s strange you haven’t seen her yet.

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Bucky informs you, “She’s out on the back porch with Sam.”

You raise an eyebrow in surprise and ask, “Alone?”

Bucky just smiles slyly and confirms your suspicions - he's trying to play matchmaker. You had wondered if you were only being hopeful at seeing signs of a potential spark between them, and now you’re glad it wasn’t only you seeing things happening there.

“Hang on,” Lisa slams her water bottle down on the counter. “Sam and Sophia?”

Bucky nods, “Mhmm.”

“No! Not yet!” she blusters. “We’re still three weeks out from election day! This is your first campaign, Barnes, so believe me when I tell you we need to avoid as many campaign crushes coming together as we can for at least another week - two if we can manage it - if we want to keep this operation running like a well-oiled machine! We want people pining as long as we can, not working through the awkward is this crush lasting after the campaign phase in the final days.” And with that, Lisa’s already rushing out of the kitchen, no doubt on her way to need something from one of them.

You shake your head, amused by Lisa’s reaction. As much as you understand her perspective from a campaign management standpoint, you can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Sam and Sophia. After all, you know exactly how difficult it is to navigate feelings in the midst of such an intense, all-consuming experience.

But you wonder how Lisa’s timeline translates to you and Steve because this isn’t a campaign crush? You’re married to the someone you’re building a relationship with on the campaign trail.

Because you have developed strong, deep feelings for Steve. You know they’re real. You know he has feelings for you. You’ve said things to each other indicating you both know this isn’t only a marriage to have a President and potential First Lady campaigning for the White House any more. But what are the next steps, and is there a too soon to take them on the campaign trail? The past week has been wonderful, spending time so effortlessly together as you can, routinely sitting right next to each other without question, holding hands, Steve’s arms often around your shoulders. There hadn’t been more kissing like your night alone in Brooklyn, but there had been more chaste kisses exchanged, and easily.

In a matter of hours things would fundamentally shift given what the rest of the world was going to learn about your marriage from the interview, so it would probably be smart to maintain whatever you were now and ride out whatever the fallout might end up being, and not add any more complexity to the situation.

“She’s right,” the other woman in the room says, bringing your attention back to the moment with Bucky and the speechwriter. “I’ve seen so many campaign crushes peak too soon, and it’s painful to watch,” she laughs - but do you detect it’s a little nervously?

Jake enters the kitchen with a broad smile.

"You made it here!" he exclaims. "I see you've met the family. What do you think of my little sister's humble abode, Mrs. Rogers?"

You return his smile warmly. "It's lovely so far. Your sister and her husband really are so great to host all of us."

Jake chuckles. "Yeah, Kathy's always been like that. Heart of gold. You should see her at Thanksgiving - she insists on inviting every stray and lonely soul in the neighborhood."

You arch an eyebrow. “Jake, I have this suspicion there’s a big softie under your campaign manager persona to rival your sister.”

“Sure, of course,” he admits, “but people can’t know I have a marshmallow heart up front. When the staff are afraid and want to impress me, they set the bar high and only keep climbing from there.” He points at the Bucky and the speechwriter, “I will deny it if you spread that nasty rumor.”

You all laugh.

“Will you two make the rounds?” Jake looks at Bucky and the speechwriter. “Let people know dinner’s up and that I need to talk to everyone about five minutes before the interview starts to air? Living room.”

Jake's request sends the other two off, leaving you alone with him in the kitchen. He turns to you with a more serious expression.

"How are you holding up?" he asks, his voice lowered. "Big night."

You take a deep breath, considering your answer. "I'm okay. A little nervous, I guess. It's one thing to do the interview, but now that it’s done but finally going to be out there for better or worse..."

Jake nods understandingly. "It's natural to feel that way. But I want you to know, you and Steve both knocked it out of the park. The footage I've seen is powerful stuff."

You feel a flutter of anticipation in your stomach. "Thanks, Jake. That means a lot."

"And I do mean it," he continues, leaning against the counter. "You know I don’t get paid to bullshit anyone. The honesty, the vulnerability... it's exactly what people need to see right now.”

You smile gratefully at Jake's reassurance. "I just hope the public sees it that way."

Jake nods confidently. "They will. Look, I've been in this game a long time, and I've rarely seen candidates connect with people the way you and Steve do. This interview is just going to reinforce that."

As you're about to respond, Steve enters the kitchen, a plate of barbecue in hand. "There you are," he says, smiling warmly at you. "I was wondering where you'd gotten off to."

Jake straightens up, clapping Steve on the shoulder. "Just giving your wife a little pep talk before the big show," he says with a wink. "I'll leave you two alone for a bit. Don't forget, living room in about fifteen minutes."

As Jake exits, Steve moves closer to you, setting his plate down on the counter. You grin, familiar now with how much food the super soldier can pack away.

"You okay?" Steve asks softly, his blue eyes searching your face.

You nod, grin softening to a smaller smile. "Jake says we’ll be fine, but I can’t help a few nerves still."

Steve reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "We're in this together. Whatever happens, we face it as a team."

His touch and words calm you, as they always do now. You squeeze his hand back. "You're right."

Steve smiles, then glances at his plate of barbecue. "Want to help me out with some of this?"

You laugh, eyeing the heaping plate. "No way. I’m saving the small bit of room I’ve got for one of Kathy’s cookies."

The two of you chat with campaign staffers as they filter in and out of the kitchen and Tom and Kathy - who comes through with a plate of her cookies - until it’s time to congregate in the living room.

Once everyone is packed in on all the furniture, extra chairs that have been brought in, and even some pillows and cushions on spots of the floor, its crowded but cozy, and it seems like it would be wrong to have any of the team in the other room for a night like this.

Jake stands in front of the tv - which is already on but muted until the interview goes live - and clears his throat. The room falls silent, all eyes turning to him. The excitement in the air is palpable, a mix of nervous energy and anticipation.

"Alright, team," Jake begins, his voice carrying across the crowded living room. "Before we dive into the interview, I've got some news to share." He pauses, building the suspense, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I just got off the phone with our polling team," he continues, his eyes scanning the room. "We have official data as of an hour ago, and I've got to say, the numbers are looking good. Really good."

A murmur of excitement ripples through the group. You feel Steve's hand tighten around yours, his body tensing slightly beside you.

Jake holds up his hands, calling for quiet. "Now, I don't want anyone getting ahead of themselves, but..." he pauses again before his face breaks into a wide smile. "Our latest poll shows that Steve has gained four points in the last week alone. This puts the Rogers-Young ticket just three points behind our closest competitor."

The room erupts in cheers and applause. You see Sam clap Bucky on the back, both men grinning ear to ear. Campaign staffers high-five each other, their faces beaming with excitement. You feel a surge of elation course through you, and you turn to Steve, who's wearing an expression of disbelief and joy.

“However,” Jake cuts into the celebrations, “no one can coast, especially after tonight. In tonight’s interview, Captain and Mrs. Rogers shared some information about their relationship that is going to dramatically shift public perception of their marriage. There are about a dozen people who already know, and I’m going to tell you now so that you have the next twenty minutes or so to wrap your head around how you’re own reaction.”

The nervous excitement in the room turned to trepidation within less than a second.

Jake continues, “There’s superstitions - or expectations - that there’s always some type of news that will break weeks or days before an election that has a significant impact on the narrative of the campaigns for public perception and tip the scales for who wins - it’s called the October Surprise. This might be it.”

You hold your breath and Steve holds tightly to your hand.

“Some of you have idly asked questions or made comments about the Rogers’ quick engagement and marriage and accepted the statement that they realized if they were going to get married, they needed to do it before the filing deadline to officially get Steve on the ballot. Others have noticed and wondered why we always book them separate rooms. I said the directive to our advance coordinator came from me, that it simplified things if one of them had an earlier departure time than the other.

“The truth is,” Jake explains, “that I said Captain Rogers needed a wife if we were going to have any chance of winning with him running as a third-party candidate without a prior political career. Theirs was a politically arranged marriage, and they met the day of their wedding.”

There are gasps and murmurs immediately around the room.

“I know you will have questions. Elsa is giving the same news to our team back at campaign HQ in DC,” Jake says. “I’d like everyone to watch the interview before you ask any questions or make any statements or decisions. If you’re in this room, I’m betting you’re giving your blood, sweat, and tears for more than the semantics around their marriage, and I think what you’ll learn from their conversation with Oprah will answer most of your questions. Deal?”

There’s still some tension in the air, but the consensus is there.

“Then, here we go,” Jake says. “Remember, as with everything else on this campaign, only Lisa makes statements on behalf of the campaign, and that includes texts from your family and friends who want an inside scoop from you tonight while they watch with the rest of America.”

The television is taken off mute, and within moments, the program begins.

Watching the interview is an out of body experience. You remember every moment, reliving it as it plays out on screen. The ninety minutes seem to stretch on forever, and yet when it’s all over and done, it feels like it can’t have been more than five minutes.

Everyone says it went well. You think it went well. Steve feels like it went well. The team has a few questions - mostly for Jake about strategy and messaging moving forward. Steve says he’s more than willing to answer questions, but Mike - one of the policy advisors - seems to speak for everyone when he says, "I think we're good, Cap. We all probably need some time to fully process this, but the interview spoke for itself. You two were honest and open. I'm still 100% behind this campaign and what you stand for.”

There are nods and murmurs of agreement from the rest of the team. The tension that had filled the room earlier has dissipated, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose and determination.

Jake claps his hands together. "Alright, team. Let's all get some rest and we'll regroup in the morning. Elsa and Peter have already been working on strategy ahead of tonight, and they and Lisa will already be working tonight and with the first wave of morning shows bright and early. Dump questions and thoughts into the Slack workspace to your directors as needed or straight to me. We’ll meet in the morning discuss our next phase and handling the positive and negative reactions we expect moving forward."

As the group begins to disperse, you and Steve make your way to Kathy and Tom to thank them for their hospitality.

"It was our pleasure," Kathy says warmly, pulling you both into a hug. "We're honored to have been a part of this night."

Tom nods in agreement. "You're welcome back anytime you’re in Kansas. And for what it's worth, I think you two make a great team, arranged marriage or not."

You feel a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thank you, Tom. That means a lot."

Behind them, there’s a smaller TV on behind them, muted, but showing pundits already discussing the interview.

Jake approaches. "The SUV is ready when you are," he says. "I've arranged for you to have a later start tomorrow morning. I figure you both could use some extra rest after tonight."

Steve nods gratefully. "Thanks, Jake. We appreciate it."

Sam, Bucky, and Sophia are all with you and Steve on the ride back to the hotel.

There are six or eight of your team who arrived ahead of you, and you cross paths with them on the way to the hotel bar. They invite the five of you to join them, when you meet Steve’s eyes, you can see he’s feeling as drained you, and so the two of you encourage everyone else to go and make your excuses to go upstairs.

In the elevator, Steve drapes an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his side. You melt into him, wrapping both arms around his strong chest, and inhale his scent - smiling at the tinge of barbecue smoke that mingled in and still lingers from earlier in the day.

As the elevator rises, you feel the tension of the evening finish melting away. The warmth of Steve's body against yours is comforting, and you allow yourself to fully relax into his embrace.

"What a night," Steve murmurs, his voice rumbling in his chest.

You nod against him. "I still can't believe we actually did it. Told the whole world."

He presses a kiss to your forehead.

The elevator dings as it reaches your floor. Steve keeps his arm around you as you walk down the hallway to your rooms. When you reach your door, you both pause, and he moves away from you just enough to clearly look at you.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, his blue eyes searching your face.

You take a moment to consider the question. "Relieved, I think. And a little scared. But mostly... hopeful?"

Steve nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I feel the same way. The weight has been lifted, but now we're stepping into uncharted territory."

You lean against the door frame, looking up at him. "No more hiding, no more pretending. It's all out there now."

"For better or worse," Steve agrees, his eyes never leaving yours.

Steve's hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. You move to close the gap between you, cup your hand around his neck, and press your lips to his. There’s heat in the kiss, but it’s soft, warm, promising.

The kiss deepens as Steve's arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. You sink into his embrace, fingers threading through his hair, falling further into the kiss.

When you finally part, you're both a little breathless. Steve rests his forehead against yours, a soft smile on his lips. "I've been wanting to do that all day," he murmurs.

You can't help but smile back. "Me too."

For a moment, you both just stand there, savoring the closeness. Then reality creeps back in - you're still in the hallway of a hotel, with your security details positioned nearby, trying to be as discreet as they can in a long hallway which translates to almost zero discreetness.

Steve seems to realize this too. He straightens up, though he keeps one arm around your waist. "We should both get some sleep," he says, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

You nod, but don't release your hold on him. "Probably," you agree.

For another moment, neither of you moves, but then you hear the elevator ding again at the end of the hallway and break apart as it opens, a few staffers stepping out.

As the staffers approach, you and Steve exchange a look that speaks volumes. The moment has passed, but the lingering warmth remains.

You exchange a few words and offer polite nods as they pass by. Once they're out of earshot, you turn back to Steve with a small, almost shy smile.

"Goodnight, Steve," you say softly, reaching for your room key.

He catches your hand gently before you can insert the key, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. "Goodnight," he murmurs against your skin.

With one last lingering look, Steve reluctantly lets go of your hand and steps back. You slip into your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Leaning against it, you take a deep breath, your heart still racing from the kiss and the intensity of Steve's gaze.

You move through your nightly routine on autopilot, your mind still buzzing. As you climb into bed, you can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. The world knows the truth now, and there's no telling how they'll react.

But as you drift off to sleep, it was such a good day that you find yourself feeling more excited than anxious.

Twelve hours later, you would not believe how wrong you were.

next part: Kansas to Tucson

I gave you a little calm before the storm.

Plus some seeds of Sam & Sophia! 🥰

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x yn #red white & true #aspen wrote something

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laresearchette · 15 days ago

Text

Wednesday, January 01, 2025 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES? HOMICIDE SQUAD NEW ORLEANS (A&E Canada) 10:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT?: 2024 ROCK & ROLL HALL OF FAME INDUCTION CEREMONY (ABC Feed)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA THE 13TH CHAIR ACT OF VENGEANCE AFRICAN JIM THE AMBULANCE AMITYVILLE ANTI-TRUST THE APPLE ARENA AT FIRST SIGHT AUTUMN IN NEW YORK AVENGING FORCE BAD INFLUENCE BEAT STREET THE BELIEVERS BELLE OF THE YUKON THE BELLY OF AN ARCHITECT BENNY & JOON THE BERLIN AFFAIR BILLION DOLLAR BRAIN BOBBIE JO AND THE OUTLAW BOLERO BULL DURHAM CANADIAN BACON CAST A LONG SHADOW CAST A GIANT SHADOW CATTLE ANNIE AND LITTLE BRITCHES THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE CLUB FED THE COCA-COLA KID CODE 46 A COLD WIND IN AUGUST COLD PURSUIT COP CRIMEWAVE THE CUTTING EDGE THE CUTTING EDGE: CHASING THE DREAM THE CUTTING EDGE: GOING FOR THE GOLD CUTTING EDGE 4: FIRE AND ICE DANGEROUS GAME DEADLY INTENT DEJA VU THE DEFIANT ONES THE DELINQUENTS DILLINGER DOOMED TO DIE THE DUNGEONMASTER ELECTRA GLIDE IN BLUE EUREKA EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING THE EXPLOSIVE GENERATION EYE OF THE TIGER FAITH, LOVE & PANCAKES THE FINAL ALLIANCE THE FINAL OPTION FLYING DEVILS FOR THOSE WHO THINK YOUNG FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL FROM HOLLYWOOD TO DEADWOOD GAS PUMP GIRLS THE GOLDEN SEAL THE GREAT DIVIDE GUN DUEL IN DURANGO A GUY THING THE HAPPY THIEVES HEARTBREAKERS THE HEAVENLY KID HELL DRIVERS THE HUNTING PARTY IN THE HEAT: A MATTER OF JUSTICE IN THE HEAT: GROW OLD ALONG WITH ME IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT: BY DUTY BOUND IN THE HEAT: GIVE ME YOUR LIFE IN THE HEAT: WHO WAS GELI BENDL? INGEBRIGTSEN BORN TO RUN [EXCLUSIVE CONTENT] INSIDE THE MAFIA INSPECTOR CLOUSEAU INVASION OF THE STAR CREATURES JACK HIGGINS’ A PRAYER FOR THE DYING THE JANUARY MAN KANSAS CITY CONFIDENTIAL THE KILLER ELITE LADY CHATTERLEY’S LOVER LARS AND THE REAL GIRL LIES MY BABYSITTER TOLD THE LONGSHOT LOVE OR MONEY? LOVE FIELD MADAME X MAN OF LA MANCHA THE MAN WHO LOVED WOMEN MARCH OF THE WOODEN SOLDIERS MARIANNE MARY MAGDALENE MATEWAN MIDWAY MILLION DOLLAR RIP OFF MOONLIGHT AND VALENTINO MOONSTRUCK MR. WONG, DETECTIVE MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING THE MYSTERIOUS ISLAND MYSTIC PIZZA THE NAKED CAGE NEW YEAR’S EVIL NICHOLAS NICKLEBY NIGHTMARE PAGEANT MOMS THE O.C. (Seasons 1-4) THE OCTAGON OPERATION BIKINI OUR WINNING SEASON OVERBOARD THE PACKAGE PARIS BLUES PATHS OF GLORY PATTY HEARST THE PEOPLE THAT TIME FORGOT PIONEER WOMAN PLAYMOBIL: THE MOVIE THE POPE OF GREENWICH VILLAGE PRANCER THE PRICE PUMPKIN PWHL: Ottawa vs Toronto RETURN TO ME RIDE OUT FOR REVENGE RIOT ON SUNSET STRIP ROBBERS’ ROOSTVALERIE ROMEO IS BLEEDING SABAKA SAVED! THE SECRET OF SANTA VITTORIA THE SECRET OF THE ICE CAVE SERENITY SHE-DEVIL SHOUT AT THE DEVIL SIX DEGREES OF SEPARATION SMALL CHANGE SNOW WHITE SOLARBABIES SOME LIKE IT HOT SOMETHING WILD SPACE PROBE TAURUS THE SPEEDWAY MURDERS STOOGEMANIA SUITS (Seasons 1-9) THE SUN IS ALSO A STAR SURPRISED BY OXFORD TEEN WITCH TEEN SPIRIT THE THOMAS CROWN AFFAIR THREE BAD SISTERS THUNDERBOLT TOM SAWYER TRUE CONFESSIONS UNDERTOW THE UNHOLY NIGHT UNTAMED HEART VALDEZ IS COMING THE VALIANT VALMONT WALKING TARGET WARRIORS FROM HELL WE’LL NEVER HAVE PARIS WEDDING DAZE WEST SIDE STORY THE WHALES OF AUGUST WHISPERS WHO’LL STOP THE RAIN? WICKER PARK PHANTOM KILLER THE WOMAN IN RED WUTHERING HEIGHTS YENTL

CBC GEM CATASTROPHE (Season 3) THE HOLIDAY JUMANJI: WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE JUSTIFIED (Season 1 and 2) SNOWPIERCER

CRAVE TV VOYAGERS UNSUNG HERO

DISNEY + STAR VOW OF SILENCE: THE ASSASSINATION OF ANNIE MAE (all episodes)

NETFLIX CANADA DON’T DIE: THE MAN WHO WANTS TO LIVE FOREVER THE EQUALIZER 2 HALLOWEEN ENDS THE INTERVIEW THE LOVE SCAM (IT) MAID IN MANHATTAN MISSING YOU (GB) MY GIRL NEIGHBORS NUMER 24 (NO) SCHITT’S CREEK (Seasons 1-3) THE SHALLOWS TAR TICKET TO PARADISE THE WEDDING RINGER

NHL HOCKEY (SN) 6:00pm: Devils vs. Kings

NBA BASKETBALL (SN1) 7:30pm: Jazz vs. Knicks (TSN4/TSN5) 7:30pm: Nets vs. Raptors (TSN5) 10:00pm: 76ers vs. Kings

THE REPAIR SHOP (Makeful) 8:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Lucia restores a cracked 19th-century painting that was a casualty of war; Steven sews up a fix for a tiny stitching machine at the workbench; Brian restores some cool '50s audio technology.

MORIMOTO'S SUSHI MASTER (Flavour Network) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Eight competing chefs meet judges Masaharu Morimoto, Dakota Weiss and J. Kenji López-Alt; they'll need to prove their mastery of fundamental sushi skills in the first challenge, because one chef will be eliminated.

GIRLS GONE WILD: THE UNTOLD STORY (Lifetime Canada) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Joe Francis seizes an opportunity to build a new kind of porn company; it quickly becomes a runaway hit and makes Francis a celebrity, but behind the success are questionable business practices and lasting impacts for the women involved.

100 DAY DREAM HOME (Home Network) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Soon-to-be newlyweds are ready to make their first big joint decision about building a home; Brian and Mika help the couple decide on their dream home's location, size and style, promising to deliver the finished home in just 100 days.

EAT, SLAY, LOVE (Slice) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Nivea invites friends Eva Marcille, Tammy Rivera and London Hughes on the girls' trip of a lifetime to Vietnam; the ladies arrive in Hanoi ready to eat, slay and love, but cultures clash and an unexpected blowup jeopardizes the entire trip.

THE SPIDERWICK CHRONICLES (CTV Sci-Fi) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Helen Grace and her children move to their ancestral home, Spiderwick; Jared Grace, 15, discovers a boggart and realizes that magical creatures are real; Aunt Lucinda implores him to find the pages of her father's field guide to magical creatures.

SUPERMAN & LOIS (CTV) 10:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Superman becomes locked in a brutal battle with Luthor's monster; Lois and the boys race against time to save General Lane.

BARMAGEDDON (Slice) 10:15pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Blake Shelton vs. Kane Brown: Country superstars Blake Shelton and Kane Brown realize that everybody "Sharts."

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #nhl hockey #nba basketball

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wonderbreadbucky · 3 years ago

Text

We're Live

Ted Lasso x F!Reader

Requested by: @cevans-is-classic "Any possibility you could summon up something with Reader being a reporter and Ted finds their questions endearing and they slowly start to develop a relationship?? Maybe something with Rebecca being like "You can't flirt on live TV, Ted." "

Description: You're a reporter for the London Times, and when your coworker transfers to a different department, you get the chance to report on the AFC Richmond games, and finally do your feature on Coach Lasso.

Word Count : 3,903 (im SORRY OKAY)

content warning: mentions of family death and drunk drivers, mentions of divorce, not angsty just exposition

(i would die for this man) ((not my gif))

The room was stirring, the AFC Richmond game ending mere minutes ago. The team had won, but just by the skin of their teeth. You hear the other reporters beside you muttering over their questions at rapid speed for when the door finally opens and the gaffer walks in. You look down at your notebook in one hand, and phone in the other, poised and ready to begin recording once you’re called upon. It wasn’t your first sports interview, especially football, but it was the first with AFC Richmond. It was hot commodity to get in on a Richmond interview, and when your colleague and dear friend switched departments, she had specifically asked for you to be given the job. So, here you sat, surrounded by so much pent up energy, it was pulsing in the air.

You glanced at your watch, and over to the door repeatedly, excited to start your first Richmond article, especially after such a win. You flicker your eyes up to the door, and stop your gaze there. You could see the handle turning, and at that, you were the first to stand when the door swung open.

The room erupted in a roar of questions, everyone fumbling over each others words, desperate to get the first say. Your own voice rang out, calling for the coaches attention. He sat at the table in front of them, sipping on his water before smiling kindly at the group. He cleared his throat before raising his own hand. We all faded off in our questions, confused.

“Now, now y’all. Everyone will get their turn. Let’s all sit and chat, yeah?” I looked around at my peers, and they all seemed confused as they nodded and sat down. I followed suit, and the last person to sit was in front of me. Mr. Trent Crimm, the man himself. Ted began to call out the reporters by name as hands shot up at the opportunity to speak. Trent Crimm stands and begins to ask his queries, a smile in his voice. He had grown fond of the Kansas Man, seeing that his kindness was not just fabrication, but genuine love for the people around him and for what he does. He nods in thanks as he sits.

Your hand goes up next, confident and hopeful. Ted’s eyebrows raised as he realized the empty seat behind Trent, he motioned for you to speak, and you stood with a smile on your face.

“I don’t think we’ve met. What’s your name, miss?” He smiles back at you.

“Y/N L/N , The Times. You’re a man of kindness, Coach Lasso, you had brought Jamie Tartt back onto the team, you had given these men the encouragement they needed, how do you believe this assisted you in the match today?” Phone held out slightly to assist in retaining his response. He smiles at this question.

“I thank you, Y/N, but I don’t believe it’s all on me. The boys on the team are to owe for the win today, they fought hard out there, and worked together, and I’m grateful for that.” You nod at this, and smile in thanks.

The rest of the interview questions went on without a hitch, your hand shooting up every time you had a question that was relevant, and he always answered you with a smile. As they finished, you were slow moving to pack up your belongings, hoping to catch a moment with the PR manager of the club. She walks in, hair swinging behind her as she clears away the paperwork on the front table, and the last of the reporters trickle into the hall. You grab your card from the pocket of your shoulder bag, and move toward her.

“Miss Jones?” She turns to you with a smile. “Hello, my name is Y/N L/N, I’m taking over for Chelsea Smith on the AFC Richmond coverage. I would love to do a feature on Coach Lasso, and dive deep on how he plans to advance back into the premier league. Here’s my card,” You hand her the card, and bring your bag higher on your shoulder. She looks at it, flipping it over to see your contact information. “Give me a call, if he’s interested.” You point at the second number on the card, your personal phone number. You smile as you turn to the door, and stop. You look back at her.

“And Miss Jones?” She looks up at you, “Thank you, you’re an inspiration. My niece… She looks up to you, and y’know what? So do I.” And with that you leave.

Keeley’s eyes mist as you leave, a smile blooming on her lips. She looks down at your card, and lets out a watery laugh. Careful of her makeup, she wipes under her eyes and makes her way to the coaches’ office. With a light knock, she walks in and greets the men.

“Keeley! What do we owe this pleasure?” Ted leans back in his chair, devoting his entire attention to the woman. She hands him the card.

“That new reporter? Y/N L/N wants to do a feature on you in the Times, and I want you to do it.”

“Oh, well, okay, any specific reason?” He looks up from the card to her.

Keeley walks over to Roy, who wraps an arm around her as hers wrap around his middle. She jumps into the short story, tearing up, stating how much it meant to her, and how much it would mean to her for Ted to do the interview. Roy tightens his arm around her slightly, kissing the crown of her head.

“Well, then I’ll do it. Of course.” Ted smiles at her.

“Great, call the second number on the card when you get a chance and you two can work out a meeting.” She walks to him, and pats his shoulder and thanks before going to her office.

---

You make your way through the streets of London later that day, your niece, Amelia, rattling on about her classes in between sips of her boba. Your parents had you later in life, and your sister had her when you were 12. She catches you up on all of the gossip around her secondary school, and you assist her where you can in advice. You pause in front of a shop as she looks at the window display, and as you sip your own drink, your phone begins to trill. Quickly swallowing, you fumble with the phone. The number is unfamiliar but you answer anyway.

“Hello?”

“Is this Y/N L/N?” A cautious voice rings through the receiver.

“This is she.”

“Hey, Miss L/N, It’s Ted Lasso over at Richmond.” Your eyes widen as you grab your niece’s attention and point to the phone.

“Coach Lasso,” Amelia’s eyes widening at the mention of her favorite football clubs coach. “How can I help you?” You step off to the side, practically vibrating in your spot. Keeley Jones actually gave her card to him, he’s actually on the phone with you. Oh my GOD.

“Keeley let me know about the feature you were wantin’ to write, and I just think it’s a fun idea. I’d love to meet for an interview.” You look to Amelia, and nod your head. She begins to go mental, silently jumping as she grabs your arm.

“Of course! Would you be able to meet, say Tuesday? I could meet you at the club, or lunch. My treat of course.”

“Let’s meet at the club, I’ll give you the nitty gritty of coaching, and we can go deeper into the grand scheme of it all over lunch then. Seem good?”

“Perfect! I’ll see you Tuesday morning then.”

“See you then, Miss L/N.” The phone beeps as he hangs up and you finally look at Amelia.

“We’re meeting on Tuesday. I’M GETTING THE FEATURE!” You both let out a squeal of delight that draws the attention of many passerbys, but all you can do is celebrate. This feature could mean big things for you. You could finally get the promotion you’ve been hoping for, even secure a permanent spot as a member of AFC Richmond’s press.

“Tell me EVERYTHING!” the young teen pulls you close, looping her arm in yours as you travel down the street, recounting the call. You can’t help but smile. This could be it.

---

Tuesday rolls around quicker than expected, but you’re prepared. You had spent the rest of the weekend working on your interview questions, spanning all from his time in Kansas, to his future plans for Richmond. You picked out an outfit, and then changed it, and then changed it again. You looked at yourself in the mirror, straightening your sweater, and the collar underneath, a light gloss added to your lips as you smoothed down your trousers.

“You can do this. This is it.” You say into the mirror, and you smile. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, the leather of the messenger bag worn and well loved. It was passed down to you, a gift from your father when you had started at the times. It was lucky, he said. You felt it held some truth now. Grabbing your wool overcoat, and slipping on your oxfords, you were out of the door. It wasn’t a long walk to the club, and thankfully the sun quelled the chill in the air enough, so you started on your way.

You walked into the club, making your way to the front desk.

“Hello! My name is-“

“Miss L/N!” The drawl of the Coach breaks through the silent halls of Richmond. You look over, and see him, hands in his pockets, sleeves rolled. You smile at him, and silently thank the receptionist. You make your way over to him, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Coach Lasso, it’s great to see you again. Thank you so much for meeting with me. And please, call me Y/N.” You shake his hand with a smile that he returns.

“It’s no problem at all! Thank you for wanting to write about me. And, you can call me Ted” He lets out a chuckle at this, hand slipping back into his pocket. He motions for you to join him as he begins to walk through the halls. You pull your notebook out as you move, poised to write anything you can use.

The day goes on, he shows you the offices, and locker rooms. He even introduces you to the team, all of them smiling at you kindly as you wave and congratulate them on their latest win. Sam Obisanya even recognizes you by name, having read one of your commentary pieces in the Times on the importance of ethical sourcing and need for environmental consciousness that you had written a year prior.

You’re shocked to say the least, hand placed over your heart to express your true gratitude. The day goes on, you sit in the stands as training goes on, taking notes on most of the things happening. You can help but watch Coach Lasso- Ted, as he leads the team. He does it in such a way that you’ve never seen before.

Having grown up in a football family, you’ve seen your fair share of matches in your time. The coaches often lead with an iron fist, taking no care in the mental health of their team members. They coached from the sidelines, yelling expletives, berating their team at the slightest fault on the pitch. But, not Ted. He joked with his team, encouraged them in ways that go deeper than just on the pitch. You admired that.

As the team left for the showers, you made your way down to the pitch. The other Coaches nodded at you in farewell as they themselves followed the team. You reciprocated, and walked up to Ted.

“Alrighty then. You ready for that lunch?” You smiled at him and nodded.

---

You take him to a small, family-owned café that your family had frequented before you started your job with the Times. You smiled at Jeanie, the little old woman behind the counter, and wave at her.

“Y/N? Is that you dear?” She hobbles around the counter, making her way to you.

“Hi Nana Jeanie.” You smile at her, meeting her halfway. She cups your face and gives you a once over.

“You have grown so much! So beautiful, dearie. I’ve been reading your work in the Times! Look!” She motions behind the counter to the cork board littered with posters and daily specials. Posted at the very top though, were cuttings of your latest works. You could cry if you weren’t working. “I save them all, y’know.”

“You will always be my number one fan, Nana.” She kisses you on the cheek before she notices Ted.

“Oi! Is that the Richmond gaffer?” She whispers, and you nod. “Hello, dearie! Please feel free to take a seat, you still drink your hot chocolate?” After you nod once again, she asks Ted for his drink order.

“Oh! Um, can I just get a water please?” and with that, she’s off. You shake your head with a grin, and turn to Ted, motioning him to follow you to your once regular booth.

“So, is that your grandma?” Ted asks when you’re settled, menu’s pulled from behind the napkin dispenser.

“No, no,” You laugh. “Nana Jeanie has been around my family since I was a little girl. We came here two, sometimes three times a week. It was a tradition. I haven’t been in about two years, not since I first got my job at the Times. It’s a part of me, y’know?” He smiles at this, and before he can comment, Jeanie comes back with your drinks.

“Extra marshmallows, and whipped cream for my dear, and a water for the gaffer. You two ready to order?” You look at Ted and he motions for you to go first. You order your usual soup, and sandwich, and Ted just asks for the same. Jeanie leaves as quickly as she came, and shouts the orders to her husband in the back, saying that it’s “For our girl, Arthur!” And you hear a faint cheer come from the back. You and Ted laugh at this, and slide back into the conversation.

You’re posed to write, and look up at him. “So, you came here from Kansas, correct?” He nods. “So, how was that?”

“It… It was hard. I left my son behind back in Kansas to come here, and I miss him every day. Facetime just isn’t the same as sitting with him at the kitchen table for breakfast, y’know?”

Throughout the rest of lunch, you ask him about his life, going deeper than just the club, asking him everything about his life from before Richmond, asking about his son, asking about his hopes for the future. At one point, you sit the pen down, and just listen to him. Ted enjoys it, being able to talk to someone new, someone who hasn’t been there since the start, someone free of biases. He can’t stop himself, feeling so comfortable with you that he off the record talks about his ex wife. You nod with a kind smile, feeling for the man as he talks about the difficulty of life. He asks you about your own life, before the Times.

You sigh and lean back. You talk about your family life, having grown up in what felt like a picture perfect family, but no one really knew what went on behind closed doors. You were technically the youngest of three, but your sister Naomi died due to a drunk driver when you were 8. It broke your family apart, your parents divorced after the tragedy, but still tried their hardest to support you and your older sister. It brought the two of you closer, despite the age gap. Not a day goes by that you don’t miss Naomi, and your sister even became a trauma surgeon in her memory. Ted gives you a soft smile, and a light pat on your hand. Conversation is easier after that. This goes throughout lunch, only pausing to eat. As the cheque comes around, he stops you before you could pull your card out, handing the appropriate notes to Jeanie, with a generous tip on top. You go to protest, but he stops you.

“You can get it next time we run into each other.” And he smiles, and you do to, but it feels different this time. These smiles are no longer just polite and mannerly, you feel a type of closeness to him now, both having shared your own vulnerabilities with each other. You both stand, and you put your coat on as Jeanie comes up.

“Now, don’t you be a stranger, dearie.” You thank her, and promise to come back with a hug. You and Ted go to leave, as your phone rings. It’s your sister. You motion to the phone, and Ted smiles, stepping away.

“Hey, Lydia, What’s up?”

“Y/N! I need you to pick up Amelia from classes for me, I just got called into a surgery and I won’t be out until late.” You can hear the running water from over the phone as she scrubs in. You let out a breath, and run your hand over your forehead.

“Yeah, of course. I got it.” You can hear beeping speed up from over the phone, and they’re yelling for her. She thanks you, and you hear her yell out for them to push medication before you hang up. Ted walks back over as you sigh.

“It was my sister. She can’t pick my niece up, she has a surgery. I have to go, I’m so sorry.” You tuck your phone into your pocket, and he waves you off.

“It’s no problem. I’ve enjoyed our talk today.” He smiles.

“So have I. I may reach out for a couple quotes in the next few days, but the feature should be out for the Sunday edition. Thank you again, Ted. For this opportunity.” You reach out a hand, and he shakes it. The touch lingers a few moments longer than usual, warmth of his palm spreading through you. You turn to leave, and feel a smile bloom across your face as he calls out to you. You turn around and he’s scratching at the back of his neck.

“Will you, uh,” he coughs. “Will you be at the press meeting after the next match?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You smile at him.

“Great.”

---

Ted walks into Rebecca’s office later that day, still thinking about you. He looks up and is greeted by Rebecca, Keeley, and Higgins.

“Ted! How was it?” Keeley sits up from her spot on the couch.

“How was what?” asks Higgins, leaning against Rebecca’s desk.

“He did an interview with the Times today. They want to do a feature on him, a reporter had reached out and we connected it. She was here today actually.” Rebecca nods at this, sipping her tea, and Ted sits down at the corner of the sectional.

“It went well. She’s a very kind woman, Y/N asked a lot about my life before the club. She said that it was necessary for a good feature, but she was genuinely interested in hearing from me.”

“Y/N, huh? I’ve seen her work. She’s brilliant.”

“She really is…”

---

As the week goes by, you write your feature. It’s finally finished after many late nights of revision and re-revising your work, and you let out a sigh of relief as you post it to the website. It’ll be in tomorrow’s print, and you can feel a smile on your lips as you bring your wine glass to them. You quickly text the link to Ted, still grinning as you look at your texts from the previous days. He’s been checking in, seeing how you were doing, checking on how the article was going, even sending you funny gifs and emoji’s that seem to always brighten your day. Under the link, you send him the nerd emoji, and within seconds you see the three dots blinking as he types.

Woohoo! Can’t wait to read it!

Three dots appear again.

Will you be there tomorrow?

You smile at this.

Of course! Good luck tomorrow (:

His response is a smile, and a soccer ball emoji, but it’s enough to make your heart race. You get to see him tomorrow.

---

You watch as the match goes on, leading to yet another win for Richmond. The press room is buzzing yet again, the dedication to the team seeping through the professional exteriors of your peers as they all await Ted’s arrival. The gaffer enters soon after with Rebecca Welton herself, and Keeley Jones, energetic from the win as they all were. Everyone begins to call out to him, eager to be first as he sits. He looks out across the crowd until his eyes meet yours. His smile widens at the sight, and you wave to him gently. He nods at you, and looks down. Unbeknownst to the two of you, Rebecca and Keeley share a look of knowing.

The press junction goes on, Ted calling on each member of the press until he sees your hand.

“Y/N! What do you got for me?” He smiles.

“So, Coach Lasso, what’re your plans going forward?” You stand, notebook in hand.

“Well, I think I’m planning on going out to dinner tonight, celebratory, y’know? I was introduced to this little café not too far away, so I’m hoping to… see some friendly faces there.” He smiles at you, and you could’ve sworn that you saw his cheeks dust with pink. “As for the team? They deserve a break after all of the hard work they’ve put in these last few weeks. But, we’re going to make like Mayfield and keep on keepin’ on.” You smile at him, feeling your heart beat in your throat as you sit down. Ted glances over to Rebecca and Keeley who look at him with wide eyes. Rebecca uses the folder in her hand to hide her face from the press as she mouths to him.

“You can’t flirt on live TV, Ted!”

---

You walk through the doors of the café, smiling at Jeanie who’s wiping down a coffee cup at the counter. She smiles at you knowingly, and nods to the table you sat at just a few days prior. There sat Ted, who had looked up when the bell above the door chimed. He stood as you walked over.

“Hi, Ted. Fancy seeing you here.” You hope that the blush on your cheeks is taken as coming from the chilly early evening air.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m glad that friendly face ended up showing up.” He pulls out your chair, as you pull your coat off, and sit down.

“So, is this one on me?” You joke with him, pulling out the menu. He laughs as he sits down, and sips his water.

“Wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I let you pay on a date, now would I?”

“So, this is a date?” You smile at him, trying to conceal the pounding in your chest.

“Only if you want it to be.”

“It’s a date, then.”

612 notes · View notes

aimless-imagines-for-fun · 4 years ago

Text

Racing Heart

Pairing :: Clark Kent x short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings :: Smut, Size Kink

Word Count :: 4,265

Summary :: You never knew why, but whenever you were around Clark, your heart always raced.

A/N :: Just an fyi, I used Henry Cavill’s Clark Kent, but I used the comic book height of Clark, which is 6′3′’, versus Henry’s 6′1′’

You never quite understood why, all you knew was that your heart always started racing when you were close to Clark. It wasn’t whenever you saw him, or when you were just in the same room as him. It was only when you were able to notice how small you were compared to the 6’3’’ man.

There were many occasions when this happened. Whenever Clark hugged you, helped you grab something on a top shelf, or even when he was standing so close to you, you two almost touched, your heart began racing. It had gotten to the point where you went out of your way to avoid getting close to the man, making sure you were always on the opposite side of the room from him.

There were three specific times though that made your face heat up just thinking about them.

The first one was in the break room.

You had managed to open the cabinet doors right above the refrigerator, but were struggling to grab the box of plastic utensils. You always forgot to bring a fork or spoon from home for your lunch, though you never had to worry about it because The Daily Planet had some. Of course, in an office full of tired reporters, others were bound to forget their utensils as well, and thus the box that was placed on the counter was now empty.

You stood on your tippy-toes, fingers barely grazing the corner of the box. The heels your wore offered no help, only adding a mere inch and a half to your height. You open the cabinet with ease, and a huff of annoyance left you when you saw the box of forks was on the second shelf. You had grown so frustrated, you began hopping just to try and hit the box that you now believed was taunting you. However, your hopping was working, as you managed to hit the corner repeatedly to make the box slowly come out. You didn’t care if you were wearing a skirt. It ended right before your knees and you were wearing black tights so it was fine.

You just needed one more good hop and you knew you’d be able to grab the box. You bent your knees only slightly, and then-

“Do you need some help?” A deep kind voice asked, followed by a large hand reaching past you and grabbing the box.

You whipped your entire body around, now facing a tie and button-down plaid shirt. You tilted your head up, seeing the man from Kansas, Clark Kent. He was giving you one of his classic golden boy smiles, looking down at you.

You gave him a small smile in return, and you could feel your heartbeat begin to grow faster. Perhaps Clark sneaking up behind you startled you, and he seemed to notice.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I just saw you were struggling for a bit,” He commented, holding the box out for you.

You grabbed it, thanking him quietly before a small idea popped into your head. “Were you watching me?”

You swore you saw a small tint on Clark’s cheeks as he let out a cough to clear his throat. “Um, no, I had walked by earlier and saw you struggling then, and, well, when I came back I saw you were still here so I decided to help.”

You let out a small giggle. “I’m teasing Clark.”

You saw him visibly ease up, letting out a small exhale. Little did you know he had been staring at you for a small while before he helped you. Watching you hop up and down had brought a small smile of amusement to his face.

The second one was in the supply room.

Some people bought their supplies, and that was their stash. Others, such as yourself, helped themselves to the abundance of the supply room. What you had just ran out of only moments ago were sticky notes. You used them quite often, not only for notes but also for little drawings you did to pass the time. As a matter of fact, your entire desk was nearly covered with either small memos or doodles of random characters.

The sticky notes, unfortunately, were located on the top shelf. To add to your bad luck, there was also no stepping stool or ladder. Now, you could’ve been rational and go get someone taller to help. ‘Nah, I got this,’ you thought as you carefully began to climb up on the shelves. You believed in your climbing abilities, even in your heels. Admittedly, it was a bit awkward trying to grip onto the shelves, and the heels of your feet were hanging off, but you felt secure enough.

You reached the top shelf with relative ease, only needing to step up two shelves. Then came the matter of the box of sticky notes that had yet to be open. There was no way you could open the box to grab the small number of notepads you needed, not without both hands though. You could throw the box down, but what were the chances of it breaking open and creating a mess? ‘I really should’ve thought this one through a little better,’ you regretted.

Busy thinking of how to get the sticky notes down(along with how often you found yourself in this sort of ‘you’ve made your bed now lay in it’ situations you’ve been in) you didn’t notice the door open and close once again. “(Y/N)?”

“Wha- Ah!” You let out a squeal, losing your balance from being pulled from your train of thought. Your eyes widened and your heart froze, feeling your feet slip off along with your grip.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the oncoming impact from the floor, along with the pain. Thankfully, the person who had caused your fall was quick enough to save you. Instead of feeling the hard tiled floor, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you. They held you close, almost squeezing you a bit too tight, but you felt safe in the embrace. You opened your eyes, blinking a few times to make sure you were indeed okay. You looked up to see who had caught you, your (e/c) eyes locking with blue ones behind a frame of glasses.

There was a clear worried look on Clark’s face. “You need to be careful (Y/N), you can’t just climb up shelves. If you need help, ask for it,” He continued to scold you, but you couldn’t focus on a thing he was saying.

Your heart was pounding, though you thought it was from the adrenaline of almost falling, and your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t listen to him with him still holding you, it was all your mind was focused on. His grip on you was frim, and you were so close to him you could smell his cologne, citrus with a hint of musk. You always knew you were petite in build, but being held like this made you feel tiny. ‘His arms are so big. Am I really this small? He doesn’t look like he’s struggling at all. When does he have the time to work out? How-’

“(Y/N) are you even listening to a thing I’m saying?”

You blinked once, looking at him with big eyes. “Um… You’re still holding me…” You pointed out, a small blush coming to your cheeks. Unable to look at him any longer, your eyes darted down, missing his flustered face.

He put you down quickly, apologizing, and you told him not to just as quickly in response. After, you thanked him and rushed out without even taking a single sticky note with you. Later on in the day though, when you had walked away and returned to your desk, there were two sticky note pads on your desk.

The third one was at a charity event.

You and Clark were assigned to the event together as it was a rather large event. The money being raised was for meta-human teens and children, to help them better understand their abilities safely.

After hearing the guest list, you knew you had to wear the one forest green dress you wore to every fancy event. It was the nicest, and expensive, dress you owned. You paired it with three-inch black heels and a simple opal pendant. You never like dressing up too much. Clark wore a simple muted dark brown suit, with a navy blue button-up and blue tie to match it.

Now, it was rather tricky to keep your distance from Clark this time, and you really didn’t want to get flustered during work. Before it was at work, now it would be during work. There was a difference, granted a small difference, but still, a difference. At work, you just minded your business, and on occasion, goofing off when you weren’t writing an article. Here you were supposed to be interviewing and taking notes of everything happening. You couldn’t miss something important because Clark wanted to dance and you couldn’t keep your mind straight after. He didn’t ask you to dance, but, if he did you’d refuse.

“So, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen-”

“Please, call me Oliver,” The blond said.

Before you stood Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. You were intending to speak to Mr. Wayne alone, but just as you approached him, Mr. Queen also got to him. You were about to apologize and walk away, however, Mr. Queen, or rather, Oliver, insisted you interviewed them together. You had to admit, it was rather nice having Oliver around as Mr. Wayne, even though he was known as a playboy, gave you a rather intimidating aura.

You began interviewing the two, asking them the same questions you had asked all the millionaires, but ended up talking with them and enjoying it. Mr. Wayne wasn’t as intimidating as he had seemed, and Oliver was rather humorous. It was clear to you the two were friends.

You were in the middle of laughing at a joke Oliver had told when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turned your head, seeing Clark, standing right beside you with a smile.

“Well you most certainly are having a good time,” He commented before turning his attention to the men in front of you. “Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached out with his free hand to shake theirs.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well…” Mr. Wayne’s voice trailed off as he looked down at Clark’s badge from the daily planet, “...Mr. Kent.”

“Call me Oliver,” He said as he shook your coworker’s hand. “I take it you two were sent together?”

“Yes,” You said in sync.

The conversation continued, and the entire time Clark kept his arm around your shoulders. You nodded along, even humming a few times in response to make it appear as if you were listening as your mind wandered. ‘Why is my heart racing? Why is he still holding me? Should I say something? What if I seem rude? I don’t want him to let go though.’ Even though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you knew there was a small part of you that always liked how petite you were compared to Clark.

Then, you felt his thumb begin to rub small circles onto your bare shoulder. Without thinking, you slowly leaned into his larger frame. Now, you couldn’t see it because you were still looking ahead at the two millionaires, but Clark glanced down at you, happy you had come closer.

You couldn’t avoid Clark forever though, despite your best efforts.

You walked down the sidewalk, holding four large reusable grocery bags each full to the brim. You lived alone, but you liked to shop in bulk so you wouldn’t have to go out often. You were struggling a fair amount though. Normally, you had a friend who’d come with you to help you out and then the two of you would hang out. Sadly, all your friends were busy for the next few days and you were beginning to run out of your favorite conditioner, not to mention you were low on food.

You didn’t drive to the grocery store either, adding to your struggle. It was only three blocks away, why waste gas? You wouldn’t be struggling much longer though.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” A male voice called out.

You stopped, eyes darting everywhere to find the owner of the voice. It took you a moment until you eventually spotted Clark in front of you, a good distance away.

“Oh, hi Clark!” You placed two of the bags down to give him a large arm wave.

It took him a moment to get to you, and when he did he looked down at your groceries puzzled. “That seems like a lot for one person to carry.”

“Yeah, I tend to bite off more than I can chew.”

“I’ve noticed,” He said with a chuckle. “Do you want some help?”

You shook your head. “No. I couldn’t possibly drag you away from your day off to help me.”

“It wouldn’t be a hassle at all,” He reassured you. “Plus, it’d eat at me all day knowing I left you struggling.”

Knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, you let out a sigh, agreeing to his help. He took three of the bags, leaving you with the one bag filled with two bags of chips, three loaves of bread, and two dozen eggs. You tried to hold two bags, make the work even between the two of you, but he insisted. He tried to carry the bag you held as well, but you were adamant you held at least one.

Walking down to your apartment complex, the two of you mainly talked about work. At least you did, and Clark more so listened. This was the first time your heart didn’t start racing as you stood next to him, probably because you wouldn’t shut up about the deadline for your new article. You refused to look up at him, eyes fixed only on what was in front of you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to get to your apartment. You thanked him and told him he could go on with his day, but he insisted he helped you carry the bags up to your apartment.

You were quiet from then on, listening to Clark talk about the building. He lead you all away to your front door, standing patiently for you to unlock your door. Then, it hit you. You noticed his shadow over you as you faced your front door. Your heart quickened a bit, still, you ignored it as you opened your front door.

You speedily guided him to the kitchen to place the groceries down, and just as fast you tried to rush him out. His brows furrowed, confusion written all over his face.

“(Y/N), why are you in such a rush to show me out?”

‘Because I can’t think straight now with you around!’ You thought. Instead, you said to him, “Because I’m tired and I want you to enjoy your day off!”

He didn’t seem to believe you. He stood in front of you, a small frown on his lips. “Do you like me?”

Your eyes widened, mouth left ajar at his question.

“Because sometimes I get the feeling that you don’t like me.”

‘Oh-’ “What- No. I think you’re a great guy Clark.”

“Then why are you always avoiding me?” You didn’t think he had noticed. “Whenever I get close to you, you scurry off, and when you can’t you look uncomfortable.”

Like a child who had just gotten caught, you covered your face, too embarrassed to look at him. You didn’t want to tell him the real reason you were avoiding him, but, you also didn’t want him thinking you disliked him. It was the exact opposite.

“I’m not avoiding you because I don’t like you, Clark,” You said through your hands. You spread apart your fingers so you could look him in the eyes. “I… I avoid you because you’re… you’re so big.”

Now Clark was taken aback, a brow raised. “What?”

With a long exhale, you lowered your hands. “I said, I avoid you because you’re so… so big, and it makes me feel really small, and I can’t think straight.”

“You avoid me because I’m too big, and it makes you feel small, and you can’t think straight?” He repeated.

You nodded.

He was silent for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side. “In a good or bad way?”

“What?”

“In a good or bad way?”

You could feel your face heat up, and it wasn’t the only spot on you beginning to grow warm. Softly, you answered him. “In a good way, I guess.”

Clark took a step closer to you. “So you like the fact that I’m larger than you?”

“Yes, I just-”

“No.” His normally bright blue eyes seemed to darken, his eyes narrowed on you. “I want you to say it.”

You closed your legs closer together, feeling a heat rise in between your thighs. “I like that you’re so much bigger and stronger compared to me.”

Swiftly, Clark scooped you up, hands just beneath your bottom to raise you to his face. With how fast your heart was racing now you were sure he could hear it pounding in your chest.

You looked into his eyes as you carefully took off his glasses and tossed them onto your couch. Then, you placed a hand on each side of his face and gave him a long soft kiss. He returned the kiss gently, though after a few minutes you could tell he wanted more, his kiss began to grow rough.

You had wrapped your legs around him to be more comfortable, giving him a better grip on you. He squeezed your ass and in response you let out a soft moan. He lowered you a bit, only enough for you to feel his growing erection against your fully clothed core. He held your hips close, moving you against him for a bit of friction. You whimpered, lowering your head into his chest and gripping his dark grey shirt.

“Clark, please,” You whined.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He asked, voice deeper than usual.

You pulled your head away from his chest, nodding over in the direction of your bedroom. “Second door to the right,”

Almost hurried, he carried you straight to your bedroom. He stopped right at the edge of your bed, letting go and letting you fall back onto your mattresses. He crawled on top of you, placing a knee between your legs. Gently, he peeled away your clothes, tossing them to the side and leaving you in your underwear. He began peppering kisses around your neck, slowly moving down to your collarbone. As he did, his hand crept its way behind your back and undid the clasp on your bra. He pulled away from his kisses to watch your breasts bounce free, eyes fixed on your bare chest.

Feeling embarrassed, you moved to cover your chest with your hands, but he pinned your hands above your head with one hand.

A low chuckle escaped him. “Aw, are you feeling shy?”

You were about to turn your head away when Clark dipped his head down, capturing your lips again. You could feel his free hand slowly trail up your side, humming as a shiver went down your spine. He cupped your breast firmly, beginning to knead it in his palm.

Small moans left your lips, arching your back, body begging for more. You already knew your panties were wet, and you needed him, but he was still fully clothed. All the while you could feel his denim-covered erection against your thigh.

“Clark,” You groaned against his lips, “It’s not fair.”

He pulled back, brows raised. You struggled to pull your hands free, to no avail.

“You’re still dressed,” You said with a pout.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, how about you take care of that for me?”

He let go of your hands and you eagerly reached for the end of his shirt, pulling it off of him. You almost started drooling seeing him shirtless for the first time. Your hands began to wander around his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. Your hands wandered down further, to the hem of his pants. Just as you were about to reach for his belt, his hand stopped you.

“You’re not ready yet sweetheart,” He warned you.

“Clark-”

He pressed his mouth against you, silencing you before you could complain. Even though you weren’t allowed to undo his pants, he slid them off with ease and you felt his long hard member pressed against your thigh. You momentarily pulled away to glance down, gasping loudly when you saw his length.

Worried, you looked back up at him. “It’s not going to fit.”

He dipped his head back down to your neck, peppering kisses across your jaw. “That’s why we need to get you ready.”

His hand moved down to your soaked panties, pushing them down so you were completely bare now. Your breathing hitched, feeling him stick in a finger and begin to move it in and out of you slowly. He picked up the pace with his finger, eventually sticking in another and he could already feel your pussy tightening.

You were growing close and he was only fucking you with his fingers. Granted, his hands were larger than yours, so two of his fingers felt much larger than two of your own.

To add on, he lowered himself so his head would be right at your dripping cunt and began sucking on your clit.

“Ah!” Your hands went straight to his hair and began to tug. You were a mess in his hands.

It didn’t take long for your body to shudder and your hips begin to spasm as you hit your high. Clark licked up your pouring juice, humming at your sweet taste. He looked up at you, two fingers remaining and now scissoring inside of you.

“You know, you really should ask for help if you can’t reach something,” He began. “It’s hard trying to hold back when you reach for things in those tight skirts of yours.”

“Well, now you don’t need to hold back,” You teased.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, grabbing his face with one hand and guiding him back to you. You could taste your juices in the kiss, humming in delight.

He pulled his fingers out, your core aching to be filled again. Luckily, you soon felt his already dripping tip at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you and you could feel your walls stretch around him. You nearly cried, your body in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your back arched, breasts pressing against Clark’s chest. Your hands gripped his arms as tight as you could, and you were sure you were digging your nails into him.

It was so much. You could feel your eyes water and tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Clark kissed your forehead, muttered against it, “Just relax.”

He gave a small moment to adjust, noting how your breathing changed when you had gotten used to him. He pushed himself further in though, and you cursed under your breath, body growing tense again.

Again, he gave you a moment to adjust, despite how painfully tight your walls clamped around him. He pulled out a small amount before pushing back in, bucking his a few times to get you used to him. Eventually, your quiet whimpers turned into small moans.

“M-more,” You breathed out, breath shaky.

Like a switch had been flipped in him, Clark pulled out almost all the way and speared you, no longer as gentle as he had been before. He did this again and again, going a little harder each time at a constant rhythm. Then, with one thrust you shouted his name loudly and your cunt squeezed around his cock.

“Ah! Clark again! Right there, please!” You begged him.

Knowing he had found your g-spot, he pulled out all the way this time and pounded that same spot, earning another cry of pleasure from you. He did this repeatedly now with a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping and clenching with each thrust. With each of your breaths growing ragged, it was clear you were both close to your release.

You wrapped a leg around his hips to try and bring him closer, and he gripped your thigh harshly. He squeezed it so tightly, you were sure there’d be a faint bruise.

With a few more thrusts, you shuddered, juices flowing out of you again and around Clark’s cock this time. You swore you heard Clark curse, feeling you squeeze around him and juices cover him.

His rhythm was growing sloppy, and he pumped in and out of you until he let out a low groan of relief. You took a sharp breath, feeling his warm seed enter you. He continued to buck his hips, riding it out until he finally stopped, breath heavy.

He looked at you with now clear eyes and a smile on his face. “So… Do you need help putting your groceries away?” He asked cheekily.

You giggled. “Only if you don’t put anything important on the top shelf.”

“Why not? I’ll be around to help you now.”

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut #superman #superman x reader #superman imagine #superman smut #henry cavill #henry cavill superman #henry cavill clark kent #clark kent fanfic #superman fanfic #clark kent fanfiction #superman fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

indecisiveauthor · 4 years ago

Text

Fact or Fiction || Darth Vader x F!Reader

Summary: An elementary school teacher winds up getting her hands on a mysterious book, which ends up being the reason she is sucked into the Star Wars Universe. Recognizing she is no longer “in Kansas anymore”, she later learns that her life was not what she originally thought it to be. Now everyone is after the most valuable person in the galaxy... Her.

Warning(s): None for this chapter!

Word Count: 1,258

Chapters: Only this one for now!

Date Created: Dec. 10th, 2020

A/N: Let me know if you guys want me to keep going. This was just an idea that popped into my head one day. (Side Note: For those who don’t know how x reader fics work... Y/N = Your Name and Y/L/N = Your Last Name!)

Chapter 1: The Page Turner

A red pen twirled in your hand, your eyes skimmed over the last paper in your stack left to grade. You felt pleased as there was nothing to mark, "I'm so glad they're improving." You mumble under your breath. Adjusting your swivel chair, you begin to smile, "This calls for stickers." You look to the side, reaching out to pull the small drawer to your left open. What kind of teacher would you be without rewarding your students with stickers? You grab your sticker sheet, which has a variety of stickers that are shiny, colorful, and some even scented. In the back of your mind, you wished your elementary teacher gave you these as a kid. Once each paper had a sticker, you take the stack of graded work and clip it with a small silver paper clip, shoving it into a vanilla folder that said "finished" at the top.

You let out a small laugh at your younger-self, as your thoughts wander. A picture sketched on the top of a paper reminded you of your big plans to become a pet shop owner as a child. You let out a small chuckle, “Little did I know that ‘adopting every single animal in my pet shop for free because I own it’ is not how it works." You glance at the clock which hung on your classroom walls; surprisingly, you still had time to stop by the Library on your way out. You made it a habit to stop by the school’s Library when your work was done. Wasting no time, you began to gather your things, shoving them in a large bag you brought with you to work this morning. Once finished, you turned the lights off and made certain that you locked the door when you left. The silence you witnessed walking down the hall was enough to make you feel rather fortunate. It reminded you of the teachers of your past, who were forced to wear heels as dress code.

Luckily, the school you currently taught at was pretty lenient when it came to dress code and the teachers were permitted to wear sneakers and jeans that were of course- in compliance with dress code. You couldn't imagine wearing high heels to school everyday, honestly you could barely walk in heels as it is. You promptly shoved that thought out of your mind as you opened the Library doors, causing a light rush of air to hit your face, enhancing the scent of old books. It was quiet, just as a Library should be. You turn to your right, where a long desk sits, along with an older woman. The older woman you recognize as Lori, looks up from her desk to wave at you.

"Well good evening Miss. (Y/L/N)!" She smiles, her eyes a glittering chestnut. Being on a first name basis, you chuckle at her formality, "Good evening Mrs. Davis." You mock her formality in a playful tone. Finding it amusing, Lori rolls her eyes and laughs, "The book fair went very well for your class I'd say." She states, getting up to grab a basket that was full of books. Your eye widen in surprise by how many books were piled in the basket. Lori sets the basket down on the desk, her cinnamon skin looks soft to the touch. You couldn't help but wonder what kind of moisturizer she uses. "Lots of students and parents dropped by to donate books they've bought from the fair to your classroom." She informs, looking pleased. She walks back around to her side of the desk, where she sits on her chair once more.

Your eyes meet hers, "Thank you Lori, this is great. Do you think I can find a seat somewhere and sort through these books while I wait for the rain to lighten up? I made the unfortunate choice of leaving my umbrella at home today." You ask with a small laugh, shaking your head at your error. She gives a nod, "Course you can sugar, go ahead and sit anywhere you'd like. I'll be hanging around here for a while anyway." With another thanks, you take the basket of books and decide to sit on the cushioned chair in the back of the Library. "Now... Where should I start?" You hum quietly, picking up a few books and sorting them by genre. Your brows furrow as you pick up an odd looking book, "There is no way this is fourth grade level." You mumble, analyzing the front cover. It was completely black on the front, piquing your curiosity.

You open the cover, flipping to the title page. "Star Wars..?" You raise your brow. Sure your class likes Star Wars as much as the next one, but there was no way a young adult novel would end up in the fourth grade reading section at a book fair. "Maybe someone was trying to be nice and get me a book too?" You ponder; yet you would be extremely embarrassed to find out that someone outside of your close friend circle knew about your overwhelming love for anything that related to Star Wars. Then another thought intruded, this book wasn't like any of the Star Wars books or novels you have read and you would know! You have read all of them.

"All of them except this one." You sigh, looking around to see if Lori could see you from her seat. To your luck, she couldn't. So you indulged yourself. "I've already done my grading, I might as well take a break and relax for a while." You shrug, ready to jump into a whole new story in an entirely different galaxy. "I wonder if this book will finally open the door to understanding the complex politics surrounding Star Wars." You joke, admiring the title page for a little while longer. "As much as I love this franchise, I can't wrap my head around the politics." You finally turn to the next page. It was blank.

"Hold on..." you furrowed your brows, flipping through the pages.

These pages were blank.

A strange sensation jolted through your body all at once, if someone were to ask you how it felt, you would say it compared to the feeling of when your legs go numb. "W-what's happening?" You ask no one. Panic sets in as your body becomes paralyzed. Your world becomes just like the cover of the book you opened, black.

~~~~~

"(Y/N)? Sugar? Are you still in here?" Lori calls out, walking past all of the shelves in search for you. Not a peep was said in return. When she was about to give up the search, the basket she gave you earlier caught her eye. Walking to the back of the Library, she studies the basket and the scattered books on the floor. "A bathroom break perhaps?" She hums. The seat where you once sat was dormant; not a soul was in sight... Not even the little black book was present. Lori shrugs, "I guess I'll leave a note on the door for her when I leave. She'll come back eventually."

#darth vader #anakin skywalker #darth vader x reader #x reader #romance #star wars #teacher #teacher reader #fanfiction #sith #anakin x reader #vader x reader #sfw

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440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

Text

Eight Years

Pairing: Dean x Reader. Other Characters: Sam x Eileen, Jody x Benny (not a vampire), Meg (not a demon) x Castiel, Rowena x Gabriel, Donna x Doug, Charlie x Stevie.

Word Count: 4995 (whew!)

Warnings: Mutual Pining, a smidgen of angst, mostly fluffy though.

Prompt: “Life is like a box of chocolates.”

Summary: Reader goes to Kansas City for a ‘Girls Weekend’ with her friends, while the guys decide to have a weekend of their own in the bunker. But, the guys get bored and decide to join the girls, which has everyone paired up except for Dean and the Reader. Will true feelings finally come out, or will it be Friend-Zone City?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jeans. Flannel/Hoodie. T-Shirts. Shorts. Swimsuit. Boots, just in case. You ran through the packing list in your head to make sure you didn't forget anything. The bag for your toiletry items was under the sink, so you put your toothbrush and other bathroom stuff inside. The last bits you needed to pack were the book you were reading and your phone charger. Once they were in your bag, you zipped it and threw it over your shoulder as you exited your room.

Sam was sitting at the map table, reading a book when you dropped your bag onto its surface. "All packed and ready to go?" he asked.

"Yep. Kansas City's not that far away, should you guys need any help with anything. Plus, I'll be with the 'Ladies' Hunting Contingent', so you'd have plenty of back-up," you chuckled.

"Nah, we're going to take the weekend off too. Dean said no hunting this weekend, so he invited the guys to come here," Sam replied.

"Really?" you asked incredulously.

"S'all your fault, you started it. Donna will be with you, which leaves Doug with nothing to do. Dean told him he should come here and hang out. In fact, you and Doug will probably pass each other on the highway," he grinned.

"Well, whatever. Y'all better behave yourselves," you warned.

"I'm sure we'll behave ourselves about as much as you girls are going to," Sam smirked.

"Ha ha, very funny. So, are you gonna miss me?" you asked.

"Nope, it'll actually be quiet without your snoring. But I bet Dean will," Sam countered. He knew about your feelings towards Dean, and figured out that the current ran both ways. Sam was convinced his life would be even better if only you and Dean would get past your self-doubts.

"'Dean will' what, Sammy?" Dean inquired as he pulled up a chair to the table.

"You'll miss her this weekend while she's gone," Sam clarified.

Dean then noticed your packed bag on the table. "Oh, that's right, this is your, uh, 'Girls' Weekend' in Kansas City," he replied. "That should be fun, all of you chicks together," Dean remarked.

"Yeah," you answered. But you didn't exactly answer the question, Dean...."I should probably get going. Got a decent drive ahead of me," you mumbled as you reached out to pick up your bag again.

"Here, I've got it, let me help," Dean picked up your bag and threw it over his shoulder.

You started to follow Dean up the stairs to the garage, but Sam called you back. Dean kept walking, so you said you'd meet him in the garage.

"C'mere, kiddo," Sam said as he pulled you into a hug. "Of course I'm going to miss you this weekend. And just because Dean didn't say so doesn't mean he won't miss you too. Maybe you should tell him--," Sam started.

You interrupted, "Wow, look at the time, I gotta go." You moved towards the stairs then turned to face Sam. "I'll miss you guys too. Have fun, you deserve it. Hell, we all deserve it," you chuckled softly. "Bye, Sam," you called as you made your way up the stairs.

Dean was waiting by your car when you entered the garage. "I put your bag in the trunk, I hope that was where you wanted it," he informed you.

"Oh sure, no problem. You didn't have to carry it up here for me, I would've managed okay. But thank you, Dean," you remarked.

"S'no problem, what are best friends for?" he replied, bringing you in for a hug that seemed a little tighter than usual. He pulled back abruptly and nervously cleared his throat. "Anyway, you should--ah--you should probably get going. Got that drive ahead of you, all by yourself. Drive careful," Dean said with a smile.

"I will. Have a good weekend with the guys, Dean. See you soon," you murmured as you ducked into your car. You turned the key and brought to life the rumbling engine of your 1968 Chevy Nova. With a slight wave of your hand, you backed out of the garage and drove out of sight.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You popped in an Aerosmith CD and cranked the volume as you tore down the highway. Dean certainly didn't approve of your decision to update the audio component for your classic car. But, driver picks the music, and you wanted more to choose from than the same 5 cassette tapes all the time.

Best friend, you muttered to yourself as you drove. After eight years, it's probably all I'll ever be to Dean. Even though he means more to me than I can ever put into words to tell him....

A pit stop at a Gas-n-Sip for fuel, snacks and a change in music to an 80s CD, and you were back on the road. After another three hours, you had reached your destination. It was an old ski lodge on the outskirts of the city that had been remodeled but without the ski lift. It had seven bedrooms and a wide open floor plan. The lodge came complete with a large kitchen, dining room and a common area with plenty of seating.

When you pulled up to the lodge, you saw Donna's truck, which brought you a little relief at not being the first one to arrive. She must have heard you drive in, because she came flying out of the front door over to your car.

Wrapping her arms around you, Donna nearly squealed with delight that you had finally arrived. "Oh, it's so good to see you!" she gushed. "I only got here about an hour ago, and I already picked out my room. Now that you're here, you get your pick!" she exclaimed.

You laughed as you retrieved your bag out of the trunk, linked arms with Donna then you both walked back into the lodge. She poured you a margarita as you unpacked your bag for the weekend. You sent Dean a text message to let him know you had arrived safely, then stowed your phone in your pocket.

By the time you came back out to the common area, Jody, Meg and Eileen had arrived. They gave you a hug in greeting, then went to stake their claims on the remaining rooms. Rowena and Charlie with Stevie rounded out the rest of the weekend's participants.

"Okay, everyone has a drink, right?" Donna asked. The ladies all nodded in agreement. "Good! Let our 'Girls Weekend' officially commence!" she declared. "Let's go 'round the room and give everyone an update. You know, say what or who we've been doing," Donna grinned mischievously.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back at the Bunker.....

Dean watched as you backed your car out of the bunker's garage, gave him a halfhearted wave, then drove off down the highway. He was mentally kicking himself for not giving you a better sendoff than a hug and a 'drive careful'.

The two of you were alone in the garage and he had you in his arms. It was a comforting feeling, like coming home, and he never wanted to let go. You idjit, he thought to himself. That would've been the perfect time to tell her how you feel....if only you hadn't chickened out. Dammit.

Shortly after you left, Doug arrived. He entered the bunker with Dean and noticed that Benny, Castiel and Gabriel had also made their appearances. Sam introduced Doug to the new arrivals then showed him to his room for the weekend. Once Doug had finished getting settled, he came out to the common area in time to hear Benny ask, "So what are y'all drinking?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the lodge.....

Most of the ladies had given their update on their activities over the past month, leaving just you and Donna to spill your secrets. Charlie and Stevie were working together at a tech firm, but not for much longer. Between them, they almost had enough money saved and/or investors to start their own consulting business.

Rowena and Gabriel were seeing each other off and on, both trying to stay out of trouble. Sam and Eileen were still going strong, texting each other, and meeting for dates whenever possible.

Jody and Benny had started dating, having been introduced by Dean. Benny moved to Sioux Falls and was hired on as a bartender at the local tavern, where he fit right in with the locals. He and Jody tried to see each other as often as possible, depending on their schedules.

Donna and Doug were back together, with their relationship picking up where it had left off. He had finally come to terms with the whole 'monsters are real' thing, and had even gone on a couple of simple cases with Donna.

Finally it was your turn. "Nothing much to tell, really," you shrugged.

"What about that guy you went out with a couple of weeks ago, what was his name?" Eileen asked.

"I think his name was 'Mr. Not Dean Winchester'," Meg snorted.

"Aren't they all named that?" Rowena chimed in.

To everyone's surprise, you chuckled lightly. "Yeah, I suppose you could say that. Maybe I'm a sap for holding on these past eight years, but I can't help it. I love him," you replied softly.

"The heart wants what the heart wants, even if the head says something else," Jody interjected.

When Donna walked back into the room, you realized you didn't even notice she'd left. "So, I just got off the phone with Doug. The guys are bored, so they've decided to head up this way. I might have said they could stay here with us," she explained hesitantly.

The color drained from your face, because you knew what this meant. Everyone would be paired off, except you and Dean. You looked into your glass and drained what was left of your margarita. "I'll be right back, I need a refill," you remarked as you exited your chair. Every eye followed you as you left the room.

"Okay, girls. I think y'all know what we have to do about her and Dean," Donna whispered conspiratorially. Each woman nodded in return, signaling a readiness to do her part.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the Bunker....

Dean was sitting at the table, eating the last slice of a cherry pie you had made him yesterday. Damn, am I glad that woman can bake, he smiled to himself.

He thought back to the day you made him that pecan pie, when you had decided that a frozen crust wouldn't do. You probably didn't know, but Dean watched as you made your own crust. You had even incorporated some finely crushed pecans into it.

Dean followed your movements as you cut the butter in with the flour, then added the water and the rest of the ingredients. He was mesmerized as you worked everything together and rolled out the crust, singing to yourself. The entire time, you had this smile on your face, and he couldn't recall the last time he'd seen you so content.

Ever since the two of you met eight years ago, he'd always thought you were beautiful. Not just on the outside, but to him, your beauty radiated from within. You showed it in how you made sure that everyone's needs were met, usually before or instead of your own. It was in the way you interacted with people, especially children, and in how they responded to you.

Even though he'd sometimes flirt with you, often just to see you blush, there was truth behind his words. You'd captured his heart all those years ago. Now, if only he'd had the strength or courage to tell you....

Sam poked his head into the kitchen to see his brother taking his dessert plate to the sink to rinse it. "Hey, Dean? Doug was just talking to Donna on the phone, and he came up with the perfect idea. You know, something other than watching movies and drinking," Sam explained.

"Oh, but Sammy, movies and drinking does sound like a good idea," Dean retorted sarcastically.

"I think you'll like this idea better, though," Sam persisted.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine," he huffed. "What is this 'perfect idea'?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the road:

The girls sent you into town to pick up some extra supplies, since the guys would be joining you tomorrow at the lodge. You still weren't sure that this was a good idea, but if the girls wanted to see their guys, you weren't going to stand in anyone's way.

You stopped at the meat counter for some burgers, hot dogs and thick-cut bacon. After grabbing a couple of onions, you headed for the canned goods to pick up some baked beans. Your recipe called for the addition of bacon and onions, and you knew at least Dean wouldn't mind.

Once you picked up some cold cuts, you wandered over to the snack aisle for potato chips. When you saw the graham crackers, you remembered that there was a fire pit outside. S'mores would be awesome, you thought with a smile. So, you added the chocolate bars and marshmallows to your cart.

At the lodge:

"Ladies, I checked the weather report, and tomorrow's going to be a perfect day to head out to the lake and go swimming," Charlie announced.

"You sure, hun?" Stevie asked.

"Of course I am, babe. Can't wait to see you all smokin' hot in that red bikini I know you packed," Charlie winked, causing Stevie's cheeks to get warm.

Jody wandered in to the common area, eyes glued to her phone. "Okay, I texted Benny for him to make sure everyone has swimming trunks packed," she remarked.

At that moment, you stepped through the kitchen door with grocery bags in your hands. "A little help, please?" you called. Everyone pitched in to transport the supplies from your car to the kitchen, then helped put everything away.

"Marshmallows, graham crackers--wait, are we making S'mores?!?" Donna squealed.

You nodded. "There are benches around a fire pit out there, might as well put it to good use. I also grabbed a couple of rotisserie chickens, some noodles and sauce for Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo." Your announcement was met with a chorus of appreciative groans from your friends.

"It's a wonder those boys haven't gained, like, a million pounds, if this is how you cook for them," Meg chimed in. "Especially with as many pies as you bake for Dean," she added.

"They work it off by chasing after or running away from monsters," you chuckled.

"Or through other activities," Eileen signed. You translated for the group and joined in the raucous laughter that ensued.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the Bunker, Next Morning:

"Rise and shine, Sammy! C'mon everybody!" Dean belted out as he knocked on Sam's and all the other doors. Dean had packed the night before, because he didn't want to waste any time in the morning. He poured some coffee into his travel mug and made his way to the bunker garage.

Some time later, they stopped at the gas station on the way out of town for fuel and snacks, then it was back on the road. Doug, Benny and Sam went back to sleep in the car, leaving Dean time to think. He knew that with his friends and brother pairing off with their girls, that was going to leave the two of you together.

Questions raced through his mind about whether or not he should confess his feelings for you. So much could go wrong that he wasn't sure if he should mention anything to you. Sam stirred in the passenger seat next to him.

"So, are you going to tell her?" Sam asked.

"Tell who, what, Sam?" Dean countered.

"You know what, and you know who. Are you going to tell your best friend that you are in love with her," Sam clarified.

"I've been asking myself that same question for the past 50 miles. So many 'what-ifs'. What if she doesn't feel the same is a BIG one. What if we get together then fall apart six months from now? What if something happens on a hunt and she get hurt, or worse? What if--" he stopped.

"Dean, you can't do that to yourself. That stuff could happen whether you confess or not, no one knows the future. You have to take life as it comes at you," Sam remarked.

"Life is like a box of chocolates, brother," Benny drawled from the back seat. "You never know what you're gonna get or what the future holds. At least with her, though, you know you've got a good woman who loves you."

"Dude, did you seriously just 'Forrest Gump' me in the middle of my love crisis?" Dean asked, which drew everyone's laughter. Even Dean laughed before turning serious again. "You really think she loves me?"

"Oh, ya, Benny's right, Dean. Anybody can tell by looking that she loves you," chimed in Doug. "I've seen the way she smiles whenever you enter a room, or how she blushes whenever you 'accidentally' brush her hand," he replied.

"Huh. I never noticed that. Guess I'd better do something about it, then," Dean remarked as he continued down the road to the lodge. A smile tugged at his lips as a plan formed in his mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the lodge:

You were the first one out of bed in the morning, which meant you got first dibs on the hot water for a shower. On your supply run yesterday, you'd picked up bagels, cream cheese, muffins and some croissants for breakfast. A pot of coffee was started, and you filled a teapot with water for those not wanting coffee. You set the breakfast table with the baked goods, along with plates, cups and silverware.

At the counter, you started making the food for the picnic lunch by the lake with the guys. There were some sandwiches with ham, some with turkey and some with both. You even made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, just in case.

By the time the coffee had finished brewing, you had finished making the sandwiches. You put them in the fridge to go into the cooler later, and poured a cup of coffee. You tinkered with it until it tasted the way you wanted, then sat back in your chair to relax.

As you sipped your coffee, your thoughts wandered to the elder Winchester. Dean and the other guys were due to arrive any time, which excited and frightened you at the same time. You were excited to spend time with your best friend. At the same time, you were scared as hell that he would see past that, right through to where you hid your feelings for him. But then you thought, what if I didn't hide them this time?

Unfortunately, you didn't get a chance to answer yourself, because you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine. Coffee cup still in hand, you rushed to the front door to greet the boys. You opened the door and leaned against the door frame as you watched the guys pile out of the Impala. You put your finger to your lips to indicate that everyone else was still sleeping.

Dean was the first to reach the front door. "Morning, sweetheart," he greeted you with that sexy grin of his.

"Morning, Dean," you replied quietly, returning his smile. "Come on in, but please keep the noise down. Everyone but me is still sleeping," you said. "If you guys are hungry, there's breakfast stuff on the table, help yourself."

Suddenly, you felt someone take hold of your free hand as you walked to the kitchen. You turned and saw that it was Dean, which caused a warmth to bloom in your cheeks. Instead of letting go, your smile grew and you adjusted your hand so your fingers were laced with each other.

"Where can we put our bags?" Sam asked.

"For now, just leave them by the patio doors. Should be out of the way enough until you can each locate your girlfriend's room," you teased.

Dean leaned in close to your ear. "So, where does that leave me?" he rumbled, his breath hot against your skin.

"Um, well, I can show you to my room if you want to store your bag in there for now," you replied. "There's only the one bed, though, so....," you murmured.

"I'm okay with sharing....as long as you're sure you're okay with it, darlin'" he said smoothly.

You could only nod, because the power of speech momentarily eluded you in that exact moment. A shake of your head seemed to reboot your brain and return your voice. "My room is at the end of the hall, to the right, if you want to put your stuff away," you remarked.

Dean squeezed your hand before letting go and headed for your room. You quickly ducked into the bathroom to try and gather your wits about you. "Get it together," you hissed, pointing at your reflection. After splashing some cold water on your face, you went back out to join the others.

One by one, the girls trickled into the kitchen for coffee and whatever else for breakfast. Castiel and Gabriel had recently appeared and were saying hello to their girlfriends. Dean had returned as well, and took your chair just before you could sit down. Before you could walk away, he grabbed you around the waist and sat you down in his lap. "Comfy?" he asked with a smirk.

"So far, so good, Winchester," you countered with a wry grin. He wrapped one arm around your waist and hooked the other across your lap then gave you a squeeze in response. From the time you left the bunker to when the guys arrived, something seemed to have changed with Dean. You decided to go with the flow and see where it would lead.

In between bites of bagel, you explained the plans for the day. "We're going swimming at the lake, then we have stuff for a picnic lunch, with burgers, beans and hotdogs for dinner." Dean's eyes lit up at the mention of burgers. "And, since we have a fire pit, I got the stuff to make S'mores!" you added enthusiastically.

"You know, Dean is somewhat of an expert at roasting marshmallows," Sam threw in slyly.

"You are?" you asked as you gazed into his perfect forest green orbs.

"Oh yeah, sweetheart. I have it down to a science now," he boasted.

"This I've got to see," Meg replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day could not have been more perfect for swimming and a picnic at the lake. You chose to stay on shore, relaxing with your book. Most of your reading is lore for whatever case you're working, so time spent reading for fun was golden. Every once in a while, your eyes would drift over to your friends, who were laughing and having the best time together.

A soft smile crept across your lips at seeing everyone so happy. You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you didn't hear Dean sneak up behind you. He leaned close to your ear. "You have a lovely smile. I've always thought so," he whispered.

You gasped in surprise at the proximity of his voice. "Thank you," you whispered back as your smile returned.

Dean sat down, cross-legged, on the blanket in front of you, while your eyes were still on your book. He gently pried the book from your hands and replaced your bookmark. Then he hooked his finger under your chin and tilted your face upwards to gaze into your eyes. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you," he started.

"Oh? What's that?" you asked, your voice wavering a bit as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

He nervously cleared his throat before speaking. "Well, you see, I--" he started.

"Hey you two, we're starving for some burgers and hot dogs! Can we please head back to the lodge to get cleaned up?" Meg broke in.

You put your hand up. "Wait a minute. Meg, can you guys give us a minute?" you implored. She shrugged and started walking back to the car. "What were you saying, Dean?" you asked.

Dean shook his head. "S'okay, we probably should head back anyway," he mumbled as he picked up the cooler.

Inside you were screaming at Meg for interrupting your conversation with Dean. You made a promise that if you and Dean were alone again, you'd ask him to finish his thought.

Dinner was a rousing success, with the juicy burgers and hot dogs, plus your kicked-up baked beans. As Dean was grilling the food, he was talking with the guys and laughing at their jokes. On the outside, he looked like he was having fun, but you were dismayed to notice that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

After dinner was done, Benny and some of the others went out to start the campfire and to make sure they had a good seat. Dean stayed behind to help you with the dishes, even though you told him he didn't have to, since he cooked. The two of you worked in a comfortable silence, even though the events of earlier were still on your mind.

Several rounds of S'mores later, everyone started to head off to bed, one couple at a time, leaving you and Dean alone again. There were still some marshmallows in the bag, so you grabbed a couple and held them up for Dean. "Okay, Winchester. Time to show me your marshmallow roasting secrets," you grinned.

Dean grinned back as he plucked them from your fingers and skewered them on the stick. "Now, if you're not careful, these will flame up and you're left with a blackened, charcoal mess," he began. He walked around the fire pit, trying to find the best heat source for the marshmallows. Once he found one, he moved so he was sitting on the other side of you on the bench. "The trick is to use the embers. That's where it's hottest, but you're less likely to 'flame out', as it were," he explained.

You watched his movements, completely entranced by his concentration and softness in his voice as he continued. "You kinda have to keep turning it, so it gets golden brown, but not torched." From the side, you could see a reflection of the flames, dancing in his eyes. "A few more turns, and voilà. The perfectly cooked marshmallow," he remarked.

Dean pulled the stick from the fire and carefully slid the marshmallow off of the end. You tried to take it from his fingers. "Ah ah ah, open up, sweetheart," he smirked. You did as he asked and he gently placed the marshmallow on your tongue. A groan of appreciation escaped your lips, as you broke the delicate crust that gave way to a melted but not molten center.

"Perfect," you whispered.

He slid the other marshmallow off the end of the stick and popped it in his mouth. A little of the melted center somehow ended up on the corner of his mouth. "Oh, wait a second, you've got some--um--some marshmallow on your--here, let me," you stammered.

Without thinking, you dove in and meshed your lips with his on the spot where you'd seen the marshmallow. When it seemed he didn't respond, you leaned back and broke the kiss. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean--I should go," you stood up from the bench to head back into the house.

Dean grabbed hold of your wrist to stop you from leaving. "Wait, I need to tell you something," he pleaded.

"No, it's all right, Dean. I get it, I made a mistake. You don't feel the same, and that's okay. Just please let me go inside," you whispered, tears threatening to fall.

"Aw, to hell with this," he growled as he closed the distance between you until you were mere inches apart. "I'm gonna finish what I started to say earlier. Then if you still want to run back inside, I won't stop you. Okay?" he asked sternly.

You nodded slowly. "Okay," he said more softly as he brushed the back of his knuckles on your cheek. "You and I have been best friends for the past eight years. Somewhere along the way, things between us changed. For me, anyway. I can't believe it's taken this long to tell you, but sweetheart? I am in love with you," he declared.

Tears of happiness streamed down your cheeks. "I've waited so long to hear those words. Wasn't sure I ever would, but I never gave up hope. I love you, Dean Winchester. Always have, always will," you replied. You placed one hand alongside his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

Dean gently brushed your tears away with his thumbs. Then he slipped his hand around to cradle you behind your head and inched forward until your lips met yet again. This kiss was different, because you felt the depth of his emotions contained within it. The friendship between you, his fear of your rejection at the offer of his love. And finally, his acceptance of your love for him.

When the kiss was broken, you pulled back a little from each other enough to rest your foreheads together. "I love you so much, baby," Dean whispered.

"I love you too, Dean. C'mon, let's head inside to my--our--nice and cozy room," you suggested.

"Right by your side, sweetheart. Forever and always," Dean added. He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, then you both walked back into the lodge.

Donna and Doug were in the kitchen with Jody and Benny, getting some water. "Goodnight, all," you and Dean called over your shoulders.

Jody smirked at Donna and held out her hand, into which Donna slapped a $10 bill. Donna rolled her eyes and said, "Shut up", which caused Jody to break out into laughter.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Static Shock: Shock to the System and Aftershock Review

“You know what? 13 years ago, me and some friends sat in a restaurant all night and daydreamed about the kinds of stories we would tell if we had the chance. We wanted to expand the concept of superhero to include characters that kind of looked like us, who had some of the same background, experiences and dreams as we did. We wanted to create something fun that a new generation would respond to the same way we responded to our childhood heroes -and damn if we didn't succeed beyond my wildest dreams. Today, Static Shock is a household name with millions of fans of all ages (Is there stuff I'd do differently? Yeah, almost all of season four but why nitpick?) Static is the most successful thing I've ever helped create and I'm both proud and gratified that people have taken it into their hearts. “

Dwayne McDuffie, Co-Creator of Static and Writer for Static Shock

This review is dedicated to Dwayne McDuffie and Robert L. Washington III. Rest In Power Static Shock is awesome. I grew up with the show watching it both first run on the WB and second run on Cartoon Network and loved it as much as I did other large parts of my childhood courtsey of DC like Batman the Animated Series, Teen Titans and both Justice League Shows. What makes this unique among the DC Properties is that Static wasn’t really a big name when he got a show. He wasn’t even part of the DC Universe.

See as I had no idea for probably a good decade, Static actually came from Milestone Comics, a company ran by and focused on african americans. The goal was understandable: While black heroes existed at the time, and there were some fantastic ones like Storm, Jim Rhodes and Steel... these guys weren’t the center of their universes. The big faces of the big companies, Spider-Man, Wolverine, Hulk, Iron Man, Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, The Flash.. were white. So milestone was a shakeup of that with the main teams and heroes all being black, from Icon, an alien who’d lived among man but rather than end up in kansas like say superman ended up imprinting on a slave woman centuries ago and has been with us since, who was encouraged by an energetic teenager named Rocket to put on a costume and do something with his powers and his community, Hardware, a tech genius who had his work stolen by a white asshole and wanted to fight back and BLood Syndicate, a group of gang members all caught in the “The Big Bang”, a huge fight between all of Dakota, the midwest city where the comics take place, that ended when the police released a bunch of experimental gas that gave them all super powers.

As most of you who have watched the show already know, this is where Static comes from. Static was the company making their own Spider-Man, i.e. a nerdy teenager who suddenly gets super powers, in this case Virgil Hawkins who at the prodding of a friend took a gun to The Big Bang to get revenge on a bully. .but ultimately couldn’t go through with it, decided it wasn’t him and got rid of the gun and ran.. and still ended up in it, becoming Static, a young hero dedicated to using his powers to fight other “Bang Babies”.. a term that dosen’t really sound that great and they really should’ve thought through. But Phrasing aside the character was great and I look forward to reading more and only haven’t because I have to buy the issues gradually, but DC is currently re-releasing the individual issues of Static, Icon, and Hardware weekly in anticipation of a reboot of Milestone Coming in May digitally on Comixology at only 2 bucks a pop, and rereleased the original print collections that were long out of print for 10 bucks each, though i’m getting static on it’s own since i’ts really not that much less expensive as it only collects four issues while Icon and Hardware both collect 8, so I can wait a bit there on Hardware and already own Icon: A Hero’s Welcome.. and really need to review it at some point.

While Milestone’s output was good, at least from the two books i’ve read, with Robert Washinton III, who sadly not only ahs also passed but was fucking homeless for a while in the 2000′s.. what the actual hell, writing Static alongside Dwayne McDuffie, whose later moved onto animation writing tons of Static episodes all of them classics including the school shooting episode, the first three rubberbandman episodes and both Anasazi episodes. Point is it had good writers and artists and even had a distrbution deal with DC, so they had a leg up on the glut of other comic book companies.. but happened to start at the start of the comic book crash, a huge downturn in sales in the 90′s as the speculator boom, i.e. a bunch of people assuming every number one would be worth golden and silver age money, forgetting a character has to BUILD INTREST and this stuff takes time, and whose attempts to sell fast flooded the market with comics no one wanted,, caused the roof to cave in and with a bunch of assholes pegging milestone as a “Company for black people” rather than you know, a company trying to add fucking diversity and represntation to the comics industry, and that simply wanted a unvierse that was centered around people of color instead of white guys. The company eventually had to shut down, and was left to lisencing. This is where the show comes in. Producers HAD been trying to make shows based on Milestone for a while, as far back as the mid-90s and the company was was all for it but the closest it got was an x-men style team series using various characters whose first draft was terrible and whose second draft by Alan Burnett, a producer on various DC Animated shows who’d go on to produce Static Shock, that McDuffie and others really liked but sadly did not get picked up. eventually though with presistance Static ended up getting a series and as I said McDuffie went on to write for it though he did not develop it. Some changes went into place naturally to make it work for an early 2000′s kids show and while i’ll probably miss so since again, only read one issue as we go. But due to Milestone coming back my intrest was peaking, hence finally reading the copy of Icon I had to buy from the library years ago due to keeping it overdue but am now EXTREMLEY glad I own as i’ts incredibly rare and really damn good, and wanting to read static, doing so lately since it’s finally on digtiial and again not too expensive. So join me as I give you a shock to the system and revisit this hell of a series to see if it holds up.. which just to cut that short it does and i’m only holding off binging MORE because I want the first two eps to be fresh enough in my head to review properly.. and also go over the various voice actors because that’s a thing with me now and charcter co-creator dwayne mcduffie because he’s awesome.

As I like to do when covering a series first episodes, let’s run down the voice cast.

First up is an UTTER LEGEND, and I use the term voice acting legend a lot, and mean it every time and have good reason to use it when I say it, and Phil LaMarr is a GOD in the buisness, having done a metric ton of voice acting roles, and being easily the most proflific black voice actor in animation. He’s also done some acting work, mostly in pulp fiction which I have not seen, but his true staying power and talent is in animation so here’s just the roles I feel are most notable or may not be very notable but i’m bringing up anyway because it’s my list.

His roles besides Virgil include Lester Payton the Texas Ranger who showed up for one very good episode of king of the hill to be badass and show up the hickish, stupid and very punchable local Sheriff, Gearld’s obnoxious older brother Jamie O on Hey Arnold, Hermes Conrad from futurama, Carver from the Weekenders (PUT IT ON PLUS DISNEY), Axel Foley for exactly one bit in Clerks the Animated Series, but anyone whose seen it will know exactly which one, Micheal on the Proud Family, Black Vulcan on Harvey Birdman (In His Pants), Hector Con Carne and Dracula on Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy and Evil Con Carne, Jack on Samurai Jack something I didn’t know for decades (and I didn’t know about the carver thing till today though i’ts obvious in hindsight), John Motherfucking Stewart on Justice League and later Steel and Adult Static in the Unlimited seasons, Osmosis Jones on Ozzy and Drix, Bolbi Strogofski on Jimmy Neutron (And yes i’m just as shocked as you are.), Wilt on Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, Marcus on Life and Times of Juniper Lee, Bull Sharkowski on My Gym Partner is A Monkey and Also a Sociopath Please Help God My Life is a waking nightmare..... okay the rest of that title is implied but we all watched the same show, we all know in our hearts that was the title

Moving on, he was also, and yes there’s MORE: Maxie Zeus on The Batman, Philly Phil on Class of 3000, Both Robertsons AND Fancy Dan on the Spectacular Spider-Man, Jazz on Transformers Animated, Kit Fisto and Bail Organa on Star Wars the Clone Wars, Gambit and Bolivar Trask on Wolverine and the X-Men, Aquaman I, L-Ron and Green Beetle on Young Justice, J.A.R.V.I.S. and Wonder Man (Simon Williams) In Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, Gabe and Carny on Kaijudo: Rise of the Duel Masters (Really miss that game and have been snapping up what cards I can get lately), Baxter Stockman in the 2012 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (And there’s also an awesome photo of him with 2003 Baxter... the two best together in one place. I got chills), Dormammu (I’ve come to bargin) in various Marvel Shows, Noville in Mighty Magiswords, Zach’s dad Marcus in Milo Muprhy’s Law, Craig’s Douchey Brother Benard on Craig of the Creek, showing he’s clearly come full circle, And Mr. Scully on the Casagrndes. And given It took about two paragraphs to cover all of this, yeah, I MEANT legend.

Next we have Kevin Micheal Richardson as Virgil’s Dad Robert, and it’s the first time since I started introducing Voice Actors on a show that i’ve overlapped. I already covered him during the second episode of legend of the three caballeros, but for the short version he’s also very acomplished, very damn good and I somehow missed he played the old blind guy in hey arnold> Needless to say the dude is awesome.

Virgil’s Sister Sharon is played by Michele Morgan who was in the rap group BWP and did some smaller roles outside of this the one exception being Juicy on the PJ’s, which I have not watched much of but REALLY do not like, though i’ll at least give it credit for being a decently long lasted black claymation sitcom at at time when there were, and hoenstly still aren’t, many black animated shows.

Back to long casting sheets, next up is Jason Marsden, who is one of my faviorites as i’ve realized recently as Ritchie. As I also found out only recently he started on the Sitcom Step By Step and while that show is .. ehhhhhhhhh, he is great in it because he’s great in everything. He also apparently has his own internet variety show which I have to watch now. His roles include Max Goof, ironically given I was just talking about that role a few days ago, Haku in the english dub of Spirted Away, Micheal, the kid being yelled at by a bunch of 80′s cartoons characters not to take drugs in Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue!, Nermal in the DTV Garfield movies and The Garfield Show, Tino on the Weekenders (SERIOUSLY DISNEY), Snapper Carr on Justice League, Rikochet on Mucha Lucha! for the last season (Why I do not knkow and while I love the guy he was not the right choice), Felix on Kim Possible, Chase Young on Xiaolin Showdown (WHich I did not realize was him and now I do easily his best role and I REALLY should’ve), Red Star and Billy Numerous on Teen Titans, Speedy on Batman Brave and the Bold, Impulse/Kid Flash II on Young Justice, and Fingers on Kaijudo. He hasn’t done as much lately which is a shame but hopefully i’tll pick up again.

Next up is Hotstreak, Virgil’s brutal bully turned unhinted pyromancer played by DANIEL COOKSY, another actor i’m happy to talk about and another faviorite I haven’t seen much of lately. Daniel was an actor from childhood, playing Budnick on Salute Your Shorts, but he quickly gained a long and storied catalogue of VA Work: His first big roll was as Montana Max on Tiny Toon Adventures and if there is a god he’ll be back for the reboot, Stoop Kid on Hey Arnold, the incomprable Jack Spicer on Xiaolin Showdown, far and away his best role and part of why Chronicles sucked so bad was he was he didn’t get to reprise the role, The titular Dave the Barbarian, Django of the Dead on El Tigre (Had no idea), Kicks utterly insufferable big Brother Brad on Kick Buttowski and apparently he’s back at it again after laying low for a bit as he’s voicing Snag in Long Gone Gultch.. which I already really needed to watch but hot damn, I missed him. Sign me up.

Frieda, Virgil’s crush and close friend who in the comics was his main confidante and love intrest but here is eventually pushed aside, is voiced by Danica Mckeller whose work didn’t seem all that familiar.. until I found out she was Ms. Martian on Young Justice. Hello, Megan. Very talented and she did get a major role in a dc show eventually so good for her. Can’t wait for season 4.

So with our major players out of the way, let’s talk about Dwayne. McDuffie is an AWESOME man and my respect has grown for him more and more with time. A writer and editor at Marvel, McDuffie has a decent resume doing smaller but awesome books, which I got most of for free last year when Marvel was giving out free digital collections due to the lock down, like Damage Control, a sitcom set in the marvel universe about the company that picks up after superhero battles and the logistics and antics that insue and Dethlok, about a pacfist trapped inside a cyborg zombie. He was as mentioned one of Milestone’s founders, and wrote Icon, Hardware and co-wrote the first few issues of Static. He’d go on to a pretty stacked career in animation, writing on this show and Justice League before becoming story editor and show runner for Unlimited , even making a return to comics as a result writing the Marvel miniseries beyond and an arc of Fantastic Four in which Black Panther and Storm filled in for Reed and Sue while the two of them worked on their marriage after Reed did.. pretty much everything he did in Civil War. He also became head writer and show runner for Ben 10: Alien Force and Ultimate Alien, revamping the franchise a bit, and Alien Force, at least the first two seasons are awesome and I feel people overreacted on the changes. Ultimate Alien is okay, but has it’s problems but the finale was awesome and left the man’s legacy on a high note.. as he sadly passed in 2011 due to heart complications. He is truly missed and produced some utterly amazing stuff whlie he was alive. So on that melacholy note let’s see what happens when his creation hits the tv screen shall we?

Shock to the System:

This episode is written by Christopher Simmons, who is apparently a huge art designer guy.. but i’m not sure that’s the same chirsptoher simmons. Much more notable is the writer of the episode after this Stan Berkowitz, who was showrunner for season 1 and has done a LOT of DCAU work and is suprising talent, having written a lot of awesome Justice League episodes including Secret Society and The Royal Flush One. Point is we’re in first class hands. Before the episode itself I want to talk about the intro and how it’s unique among DCAU shows. Like most Western Animation the intros for DCAU shows didn’t change much over the seasons with the most I can see is JLU changing up the footage to preview the current episode and later adding Hawkgirl to the intro after her return to the team. I THINK superman the animated series changed some of it’s footage too, but I can’t confrim it and may of just been imagining it. As i’ve talked about on my blog it’s normally a pet peeve of mine, mostly because shows you know, change after season 1, characters get added some one shot characters used for the intro never return, and after a while it can feel dated especially in more recent shows where the status quo is not at all set in stone and things change quite a bit. But sometimes it can be good enough that either the dated elements don’t matter or general enough that you don’t need to change it and i’ts just that good.. and given Batman the Animated Series has both in spades, you can see why i’ts probably my golden standard for intros and after superman the animated series DC mostly followed suit. But being part of the teen superhero boom of the 2000′s Static is unique in that it splits the diffrence: It’s intro gets the character across perfectly like a good intro should starting with Virgil getting out of bed and running a comb across his head before showing off to his sister to bug her and literally running into his dad who hand shim his bag and smiles, silently showing off his family. He then runs to school and runs into some trouble.. and said trouble changes for each intro, with Rubberband Man for season 1, Kanga (Whose name I only know because I happened to run across it) for season 2 and your guess is as good as mine for seasons 3 and 4, though Hotstreak is a constant. They still save some money for seasons 1 and 2 by recycling some animation.. but that’s alright with mea s it was good animation, and the improtant thing is cycling out old villians for new ones, while Season 3 is the only out and out redo to show off Richie taking on the Gear identity, adding about 10 seconds of intro to let him show off. Seriously it’s an utterly great intro and like the other DCAU intros outside of superman, stuck in my brain.

The other change that’s ENTIRELY diffrent from the rest of htem is that the music changes each time. The first two have the same formula just with a difrent vocalist and backing track: a superhero theme but with some hip hop beat boxing over it. The first intro is fine enough, not specattcular but stilll god. The second song.. is eh. Not really great and feels like a marked downgrade from season 1 and just dosen’t blend an ocrehstiral superhero theme with the beatbox elements NEARLY as well. The third song though is my faviorite.. even if I HATED Little Romeo as a kid because I really did not like his nick show, it’s more a straight up rap song, but it has a faster beat that fits the intro better, and Romeo’s bragging fits Virgil’s character and penchant for Spidey quips perfectly. I also find it ironic that the theme that blends in with the dcau the most, the first season’s, is the one from BEFORE they decided to put it in the same universe. Still this season’s intro slaps, I just like the LIttle Romeo one a bit more. The opening scene is picture perfect. Some masked crooks looting a warehouse are loading some stolen TV’s into a van when suddenly the lights come on one by one above one of the crooks before his tv switches to various channels before going haywire. Cue our heroes’ entrance. Let’s tak ea good look at him

Static’s Costume is awesome. While I prefer the season 3 redesign, and clearly DC agrees as the redeisgn was used for both pre and post new-52 when they used him, and while he’s getting a fresh design for the reboot, said design takes a lot of cures from said outfit. As for how the outfit differs from the comics itself this is the design he had in the comics

It didn’t change much from the first issue, with the exception of his now iconic big puffy jacket which was added pretty early into the character’s history but I was unaware of that and just assumed he had the bodysuit the whole time. The more you know. But as you can see outside of the cool puffy jacket over a costume the two couldn’t be more diffrent. While the Dakotaverse outfit is more a standard superhero outfit, with some regular clothes touches on top the first cartoon outfit comes off more realistic, looking fantastic, but still coming off as something two teenagers could realistically have thrown together with what clothes they could buy, while still looking awesomely superheroy. IN short it’s perfect and only topped by the season 3 onward look...

But the slicker look, with an even cooler jakcet and the new colors all fitting the lighting ascetic better, but fits: not only has Virgil come along farther since he started, but with Richie now having a genius brain as Gear, he can provide a far slicker, far more professional superhero outfit on the budget the two have. This show is just great at costume design.

So getting back to the episode at hand, Static puts up a huge sign in elecrticy saying “Bad guys here”, PFFFT, and then hides away and narrates that a few days ago he’d be the last person anyone would’ve expected to be a hero. Cue Flashback.

We meet Virgil Hawkins on an average day: rapping into his razor, getting into a petty argument with his older sister Sharon, as a younger brother myself I relate to this, and talking to his dad who tries to get them to cut that out. We find out his mom has passed via his sister making really terrible eggs and saying that’s how mom made them. Exposition! Though we do get a great bit through this as when his sister gets distracted by her boyfriend calling, he uses the opportunity of her leaving the room to dump the eggs.. after having earlier jokingly prayed to his mom for a way out of breakfast. “Thanks for looking out for me mom” That’s both very sweet and very hilarious.

This is a change from the comics it turns out as I was utterly flored to find Virgil’s mom alive and well when reading the first issue of Static. Turns out this was a change made during development and one Dwane McDuffie admitted in the interview I got the tribute quote from to not liking as he had a good reason for having Virgil have a nuclear family, as most black families in media at the time were just one single parent and a kid or two with the other having either left or died. He wasn’t too bothered by it as while he preferred what he came up with in the first place, the show DID get some really good stories out of her being gone and didn’t just have her be absent because shut up. Virgil is still working over her death and the way HOW she died ends up playing an important role in this episode and gives Virgil a dislike of guns, as she died to gang violence. So the change wasn’t for stupid or racist reasons, but likely both to keep the character count down while giving them something to work with for storylines. Or it could’ve been for stupid reasons and the writers simpily made lemonade out of that very dumb lemon, either way it ended up working. Virgil also plans to ask his friend Frieda out. Frieda was a bigger deal in the comics, being Virgil’s friend and confidante as well as his ocasional love intrest, but here while she was inteded to at least be his love intrest here, that sorta fizzled out. As for the best friend role we meet her replacement in Richie, which McDuffie conceded was the kind of change a studio would make swapping out a female character for a male one. That being said the crew made the best of it and Richie is awesome, a bit of an overcompensating dipstick at times, but a good sounding board and pal for virgil and funny as hell too. He was also gay, something only revealed post series by McDuffie.. but unlike say Dumbledore, it’s a bit easier to swallow here: The early 2000′s were an even worse time for gay characters in tv let alone cartoons, and if they couldn’t kiss or have sex scenes on regular tv, there was no way we were getting any representation in a children’s show. So it was largely just hinted at by Richie overcompensating in how “into girls” he was and i’m once again fine with this being word of god as it was literally the best they could do and his counterpart in the comics was also gay, if not as relevant. Ritch encourages Virgil to work on his opening to ask her out as it’s awkward as heck, hits a bit close to home.. but I do appricate the show just .. having him try and ask her out from the first episode. They likely would’ve drug thigns out a bit granted had they used Frieda more, i’m not blind to the convetions of the time. .but as someone who got the very wrong idea from tv that just waiting around meant a girl would like you eventually, when no you need to actually try even if rejection happens, I honestly wish we had more of this in media than the other garbage morals at the time.

So he prepares to , not helped by her mentioning guy after guy is asking her out.... but before he can F-Stop, the future hotstreak, shows up. F-STOP

That being said...... it’s not as bad as the original gangster name for the comic’s version, Biz Money B. Yes BIZ MONEY B

So yeah while F-Stop is no more intimidating, it at least means I can stop laughing. Francis, because I can’t type F-Stop without laughing and this review is already behind, shoves Virgil out of the way and agressively hits on Frieda, even saying “you smell good”, the international sign your a douchebag and also to call the police. Virgil steps up to the guy and gets PAINFULLY slammed into the lockers, something I give the animation team a lot of credit for, as you can FEEL how fucking painful that was. Virgil is saved by Wade, another local gangbanger who in the comics was a close friend of Virgils but here saves him seemingly just because.. seemingly.

On the way home though Virg’s problems don’t end as naturally, the giant sized asshole with nothing better to do has his goons corner virgil before VIOLENTLY beating him.. off screen but the noises, and the clear brusies including a black eye, on virgil afterwords.. just holy damn i’m suprsied they got away with this but it shows just how horrifing it was and that this is a step above regular bullying, which make no mistake is absoluttley terrible and the series would later do an episode on it and school shootings, into straight up gang violence. Wade shows up again and gets the bastards to flee.. but also makes it clear he can’t keep doing this.. and forces Virgil to meet him at his base under the bridge. And it’s a tense sequence, with Virgil KNOWING this is a bad idea but having no real choice and Wade making it abundantly clear that he wants Virgil to join his crew, and makes a chilling point: while Virgils dad RIGHTFULLY dosen’t want his son to join a gang as Virgil points out.. he can’t be there for him all the time and eventually one of those times, Francis will be around. And he may not surivive that. Virgil nods noncomittaly. At home it gets even more grim as he dosen’t open up to his family, understandably as his dad would jsut say to call the police and well.. we’ve seen how the police treat black people. At best they’d just try and use Virgil as an informant and that likely wouldn’t end fucking well for Virgil. Ritchie points out he can’t join a gang, virgil’s mom died that way.. see told you it’d be important to the plot.. but I like how the story dosen’t offer an easy answer.. well okay he gets electric powers soon enough but without the fantastic element this is just an innocent kid caught between either joining the very thing his mom hated or hoping a system not built to protect him will keep him alive. It’s utterly saddening and chilling and holy shit is it amazing a cartoon in the early 2000′s was able to get away with.. ANY OF THIS, and they handle it great, paired down a bit from the comics but even then it’s still incredibly balsy they got THIS much in.

Naturally Wade calls in his favor and our hero is forced to come running.. and soon finds out Wade’s brought him in for a massive gang war. Welcome to the big bang, baby. He hands Virgil a gun as things get started and Virgil.. drops the thing and tries to escape, in a harrowing sequence.. and runs into Francis because god apparently REALLY hates this kid today. As if to prove that the police show up and while that prevents a beating, they demand they disassemble. then release untested gas on them because of course they do.

As a result the big bang truly begins, with the various gang members getting mutated.. and naturally so does virgil. Though he wakes up the next day seemingly fine. How’d he get home? Does his dad know where he was?

I don’t know and we’re not getting any answers, but Virgil soon finds weird stuff happening like his clock shorting out, change being attracted to him and his razor going wild. It’s only once he get sback to his room he gets an inkling of what’s going on and calls Ritchie to meet him at the Junk yard.. though it is a bit of a dick move as he dosen’t you know, tell him anything about Wade or Francis right away. He does at the yard though.. and that he has powers, having finally figured out how to use them to a point. And the series does provide a decent justification later as to why he’d get this so quickly: Virgil is a smart kid, gets great grades at school and apparnetly there’s even an episode later where he gets a scholarship to a fancy genius school. So him getting how elctromagntisim works or being a quick study on it makes perfect sense.

Richie suggest the obvious.. to become a superhero. And the thought.. hadn’t occured to Virgil. It’s honestly a nice twist on the old trope. That he hadn’t thought of it, not because he’s selfish or any of that or needs to learn a hard lesson, those have been done.. simply because the rush of getting his powers, and implicitly of having a way out of his current predciament, a way to keep Francis off his back and keep Wade from pulling him in further. His own path. But once i’ts brought up.. he jumps on it. Part of it is being a nerd like you or I, of course he wants to.. and being a good intetioned one, he knows this is the right thing to do. It’s waht makes a superhero a hero: Anyone can get powers in a universe like this, esepcailly the dcau, but it takes true courage and heart to use them selflessly and knowing you’ll be in danger. It’s why I love surperheroes: they often didn’t ask for this but they do it anyway because somebody’s gotta. We also get an intresting wrinkle is superman is, at least I think in this episode I could’ve missed it or misremembered things, mentioned as a fictional character. That’s because originally like the comics this wasn’t part of the DCAU.. but eventually the crew decided it shared staff from it, shared a network, both first run and on reruns, why not just make it part of the DCAU proper. I fully support this decisionf: While i’m midly annoyed unlimited never really used anything from static shock outside of Static himself in the time travel episode, despite you know Static and Gear having BEEN to the tower and not being much younger than Kara and defintely older than Courtney, I chalk it up to weird rights issues or something like that. But having Batman, Batman Beyond, Superman, Green Lantern and the Justice League itself all guest star was a good idea, and expanded both static’s universe and gave the DCAU something differnt as most heroes in it were older and more experinced in contrast to the up and coming virgil. Again really would’ve been nice if he and gear could’ve been a part of the expanded league but production might of just been too far ahead or, given he had his own series, they might just have wanted to stick to toher characters. Also begs the question why Icon or Hardware wasn’t adapted for the expanded League but hey, questions for later and the tricky logisitics of the milestone rights might’ve been the issue. I don’t know I wasn’t in the room.

So we get a costume montage, including Black Vulcan from Superfriends, who again ironically would be voiced by Lamarr not too long after this, though weirdly they DON’T use his outfit from the comics for this montage. I mean why not? It fits the gag and would’ve been a good second to last choice.But what could’ve been aside we get our winner and cut back to present day...

Thanks boys. Static finds out one of the things in the warehouse is a shipment of computers for the school and can’t help but show off, showing up to the school, where Frieda and Richie are setting up for the dance, and dropping off the computers, and even saying his catchphrase for the first time “I’ll put a shock to your system” (Which Richie chimes in with awesome line and I agree, great catcphrase), before helping set up and flirting with frieda.

Though as Richtie says he’s a natural. He’s not wrong as he can work a crowd. .but back it up too as his first run out had him easily taking out the crooks, and as many teen superheros and fans of heroes of hte type, myself included will tell you, getting it right in one is not easy. Not even Miles MOrales was immune. All Static needs now is a villian.

And the end of the episode provides one as we see, in horrifc and once again damn suprising detail most of hte new metas aren’t doing so good and are melting and other stuff and we catch up with Francis whose burning up.. and naturally given that hair, though given he named himself F-Stop it’s the least of his problems, he’s got fire powers and escapes to “Have me some fun”

So with that we end episode 1. And it’s excellent, a great way to introduce the hero and while the warehouse opening is a bit superflous, it is a decent addition, showing our heroes first outing in costume and giving us a bit of an action scene to get us through the very heavy rest of the episode. But the rest of the episode is no less grippping, telling the tale of a teen caught in an unwinnable scenario who suddenly finds a way out. And speaking of which waht of Wade? Will we see him again? Is he perhaps Ebon, the series big bad as I thought when I was a kid? What comes of the man who directly caused static’s origin?

Yeahhh that’s the one mistep I think the pilot makes. Frieda is understandable as that was likely a simple change in creative direction. This though? Why build this guy up if your not going to bring him back. I mean where he went was probably the grave, as he probably did due to his mutation, but it’s still VERY weird to spend a whole episode focusing on this guy, building him up as a big personal threat to our hero.. and NOT have him become the series big bad. And maybe he WAS supposed to be ebon and they just changed their mind. I don’t know but it bothers me it bothers me a lot. Otherwise though flawless. ONe more to go.

Aftershock: We open outside an electronics store, as our heroes watch the news reacap what happened in the first episode, with the media dubbing it the Big Bang and revealing their could be hundreds of “Metahumans”, as Virgil dubs after deciding the media’s term “Mutant” dosen’t fit, a nice wink to the fact that that’s the term used in dc comics and I believe milestone but could be wrong there. Me I like the term, has a nice ring to it.

At the store while Richie mulls over waht this means Static finds out he’s a human CD player.... this was before mp3 players and streaming on your phone made them horribly obsolete mind you and if you don’t know what one is congradualtions you live in some sort of bubble and you made me feel really old junior.

Frieda happens to be there and Virgil quips “What’s the matter they run out of britney cds”. Dude she’s not bad. Also be careful what you wish for man. Nickeback returned the year after this. You have not truly suffered through bad music yet my young friend. They spot a kid looking feverish, and he soon turns into a purple werewolf, as you do. It’s a bang baby.. those are richie’s exact word and you may not want to start a panic there bud. Just saying your best friend is one. THeir not all like this. Our heroes book it only to run into Francis who naturally refuses to let them leave and only doesn’t try to beat up Virgil because Virgil points otu the werewolf and nonplussed, he goes to fight it, scarring it off by revealing his own powers. He’s now dubbed himself Hotstreak which points for getting an actually good name kid. No points for what happens next as unsuprisingly getting powers did NOT mak ehim a better person and he attacks Virgil who blocks with a garbage can lid and thankfully is blasted into an ally. Richie tries to guard frieda for damn obvious reasons but gets hsi shirt burnt up because shut up Thankfully Static shows up, and we get our firsdt full on superhuman fight as both fight each other with aplomb, and it’s a damn good fight.. and one that goes pear shaped for Virg as he’s caught off guard when he finds out Hotstreak can use his powers to fly, and tackles him and his previous trauma causes him to freeze up. Thankfully , as Frieda put in a call earlier, the fire department arrive and HOt streak has to retreat, though Virgil is bummed that he “Choked”. And I love this as it not only shows Virgil’s inepxerince, as this is his first time fighting a bad guy but that just because he HAS power now dosen’t mean trauma and his previous fear of Hotstreak goes away or you won’t freeze up from time to time. It dosen’t make him weak or anything like some assholes would call it .. it makes him human. Humans make mistakes, and it makes him all the more relatable that he’s not pefect and that he did freeze up as I know I certainly would at last once in the circumstances.

Things don’t get better at dinner as Sharon and Pops argue over the bang babies with Pops calling them a meance and Sharon pointing out Static exists so they can’t all be bad. See assuming a group of superhumans are bad because a handful of them ar edick sis why the x-men had to get their own island nation. You can only save an ungreatful populous so many times before you say “fuck it i’m getting my own island, pay me for life saving drugs, save your damn selves and stop doing genocides on us. Kay thanks”. But he does bring up a valid point that rattles his son: We don’t know anything about the Bang Babies or their biological structures and it’s likely they might further mutate into monsters, Static included.

Virgil, understandably, wants to check this and thus he and richie compare blood samples in science, to no real conclusion. She he checks out with his doctor who assumes he’s sexually active in a great getting crap past the radar bit and a bit of realisim, but he agrees to the test though if something came up he would have to tell Virgil’s dsad and is up front about this. Nice dose of realisim.

That night City Council has a meeting and the Mayor TRIES to deflect Papa Hawkins questions about the bang babies which again, while being a judgmental ass as not every person hit was a gang member (Virgil, and as we discover later some others), and not every gang member is there by choice, some by circumstnace some, like virgil almost was, because they HAD no other option. Again years of reading x-men may of just made me a bit touchy on assholes admitely assuming superpower people bad. But it’s clear the public is upset and while she says an investigation is underway... Virgil and Richie are not only not convinced, but figure she’s actively covering it up. And unlike everyone else there who probably suspects the same, they can do something about it and tail her. It’s during this, and cleverly as I didn’t realie till writing this using similar skills to his human cd player act, Virgil listens in and discovers whose behind it: Edwin Alva, whose apparently richer than bill gates and a beloved phinarophist Alva, as it turns out, was actually the arch enemy of Hardware in the comics, taking advantage of the guy in his civiliian idtentiy and thus casuing him to launch a war on the asshole. He does transition into this series well though, being the one behind the gas that caused it and with the mayor agreeing to back off, planning to simply dump the info about the big bang on a disc then destroy everything for now till the heat dies down. Yup sounds like a corprate douchebag.

Static tails him, finds the lab and infiltrates it, stealing the disc.. but getting caught by Alva’s goon, and trapped in a glass prison, forced to use ALL his power to escape and barely getting out alive, but not before bouncing off alva’s car. Still he now has the proof.. and meanwhile Hotstreak, who I was wrong did get captured, is forced to take pill sbut spits them out once the orderly is gone. Dude.. WHY DIDN’T YOU WATCH HIM. Make sure he swallows that shit especially since, as he has no powers right now and can’t harm you.

Hotstreak escapes off screen and our heroes discuss the disc before he shows up, and we get a REALLY fucking amazing scene: Virgil ducks into an Alleway and ritchie is worried.. and Virgil disarms him with just one word responses Ritchie: Virg you can’t take him. Virgil: Gotta. Ritchie: Well at least wait for the fire department Virgil: Can’t. It’s simpile but it gets the point across: This is his fight, he can’t wait for help, and people need him. And this is what makes a true hero: It’s easy to be a hero when everythings going well.. but it’s the true ones who stick it out against the odds and fight anyway. And he’s going to. So we get one hell of a fight, though naturally Hotstreak burns up the disc. And I do like this as it dosen’t feel contrived.. yes Static could’ve left it with ritchie.. but he wasn’t thinking in the moment and dind’t really have time to think abotu the disc, only that people were being hurt and he was all they had between them and Hotstreak. It was no choice at all. Still that pisses Virgil off that the last night’s work is now worthless, and he fully charges up and curbstomps francis who retreats into a clearing. Hostreak brags when static follows, as even he’s figured out Static needs to be around metal, as he’s usually on his disc or the street, and in the park there suppodsidly isn’t any. But he’s not THAT smart as Virgil points out two things: one, he hoped to do this on PURPOSE so they wouldn’t be around people and no on e would get hurt and 2).. this is a city, there’s metal everywhere.. and he awesomely and cleverly proves it by unlodging a sewage pipe with his powers and dousing his foe, winning and proving his stuff. I love this solution, it’s a clever spider-man type way to disarm him, using smarts and the einvroment instead of just brute forcing it. Though the sewage part wasn’t intetional our hero still won and gets praise from the people dumb enough to follow the fight.

However at home Virgil points out it was Pyrrhic Victory and shows off his smarts by telling the tale behind it, which I didn’t know,because tv tropes didn’t exist yet: king pyrhus fought the romans and WON.. but had so little armies left that he still lost overall. That’s what this feels like to Virgil: he beat hotstreak but any chance at a cure for Bang Babies and Alva going to jail for causing them is gone. His mood does get a boost though as the doctor calls and reveals he’s fine, he just has a bit too much elctrolytes and just needs to lay off teh salt. He celebrates, we get a quick gag and the episode ends

Aftershock is another stellar episoe, giving us Virgil’s first super foe and a personal one at that, while showing some growth. As richie tells him he’s not virgil anymore he’s static and he can’t let his past get to him.. and he does’nt going from cowering in fear to easily beating his foe with simple logic. It’s a good followup that answers questions you may have from the first ep, like what does this do to virgil’s body, who supplied the gas, and why has no one done anything about this, and sets up another villian for Static in Alva. Great stuff. I highly recommend these episodes and the show as a whole: it’s fast paced, grounded and enjoyable, having just enough levity to not be too dour but just enough tension and stakes to be intresting. A throughly fantastic superhero show and one that i’d certainly love to revisit on this blog If you have an episode of static or the dcau in general you’d want me to cover, my comissions are open and details are on a tab on my blog or can be gotten simply by asking me via ask or dm. Tommorow we’re going deeper underground, there’s too much damage in this town as the Lena Retrospective continues. So expect gay ducks, straight ducks and some terrfirmains. See you next rainbow.

#static shock #static #virgil hawkins #richie foley #robert hawkins #sharon hawkins #hotstreak #milestone comics #dc comics #dc animated universe #dcau #dwayne mcduffie #robert l washington IIII #kids wb #hbo max #2000s #animation #black lives matter #black history month

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janicho88 · 4 years ago

Text

Falling For You - Part 1

Pairing- Dean x Lisa(past), Female!Reader x OMC Justin(past), Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count-3019

Warning- Mentions of cheating, slight angst. This is going to be a bit of a slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU, and un beta’d.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door. Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to.

Series Masterlist

It had been a long day at work and you just wanted to get home to your couch, although you knew that would have to wait. The apartment needed some cleaning, and you needed to wash laundry too. You had put it off, work keeping you busier than usual the last 2 weeks, and you really should go hit the gym. You had been slacking there too.

The elevator was being inspected when you walked in the building so you had taken the stairs Reaching your floor you were surprised to find a man standing in front of your door continuously knocking. Slowing walking over you looked around, no one else seemed to be near. Knowing the time, your neighbor across the hall, Jess was probably on her way home from work, you weren’t completely certain about her fiancé though. The other two apartments on this level kept to themselves.

“Hi, Can I help you?” You cautiously asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

The greenest eyes you had ever seen turned to look at you with a grin forming. “Thanks, but I’m just waiting for my brother to let me in, unless you want to give me your number for later?”

“I’m good thanks, but why is your brother letting you in there?” You didn’t get any danger vibes from this guy, so you weren’t too worried about standing here talking to him yet.

“Well miss nosey, it’s because he lives there.”

“I don’t think he does.”

“Really, and how would you know anything?” The man back to pounding on your door.

Before you could respond Jess’ fiancé Sam came running up the steps sweaty from his evening jog.

“Dude, you weren’t supposed to be here till tomorrow, and why are you blocking Y/N’s door?” Sam unlocked his door across from you and went to hug his brother.

The man backed away from him, “Seriously man? You’re sweaty and gross, shower first. I needed to get out of there, and traffic on the way up was pretty light. You told me you and Jess were 44.”

“No Dean, I told you we were 43. We live on the fourth floor in the third apartment number 43. You weren’t listening,” Sam turned to you still unable to get into your apartment. “Sorry Y/N, this is my older brother Dean. He just got up here from Kansas, he’s staying with us for a little while. I’ll get him out of your way,” He leaned down to grab one of Dean’s bags before heading into his apartment.

Dean turned to look at you then looking at your door before he leaned down to pick up the other bag. “Oops!” With that he headed into the open apartment and shut the door. Shaking your head you went to unlock your own door.

Heading to your bedroom after setting your things down, you figured if you didn't get your workout done first it wasn’t going to happen. Quickly changing you grabbed some laundry and went to throw a load in the washer so the first load would be done when your workout was finished. Very thankful to have a washer and dryer in your apartment. Grabbing your key you headed the gym on the ground floor. An hour on the bike left you feeling a little better, getting out some of your frustrations.

Back inside your apartment you changed the laundry and started on your dusting and window washing before vacuuming. Finally finished, you headed for a shower to clean off the dirt and sweat.

All clean you ventured to the kitchen to see what you could whip up for dinner. When a knock at your door pulled you away. Who could be here now you wondered.

Opening the door you came face to face with Mr green eyes again. Shoot, what did Sam say his name was.

“Your brother still lives across the hall.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I swear Sammy told me it was 44. I just wanted to come say I was sorry for bothering you earlier. I know the right place now.”

“It’s fine. Have a nice visit.”

“Thanks it’s not really a visit. I’m Dean, like he said, I’m his older brother.”

“Y/N, the neighbor. Nice to meet you Dean.” Holding out your hand to Dean his bigger hand engulfed it in a firm shake.

“Would you let me take you out for a bite to apologize for my first impression?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good…”

“It’s not a date,” He hurriedly cut in. “It’s just, I mean, you seem like a nice person, and you would probably be a great date, but it’s not. It will just be food I swear. Tomorrow afternoon, or night? I don’t know if you have big Saturday plans?”

“Shouldn’t you be spending time with your brother?”

“He has a work dinner with Jess they can’t miss.”

You thought about it for a moment. You had been friends with Sam and Jess a little while now and trusted them, so you should be able to trust his brother. “I’m supposed to go dress shopping with my friend Meg, tomorrow. We should be done by 6 if you really want to grab some dinner.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart, I’ll knock on your door again then.”

“Okay, goodnight Dean. Oh and welcome to Michigan.” Shaking your head you shut the door to go back to your search for tonight’s dinner.

The fridge was pretty empty, you didn’t even have any frozen microwaveable meals left. Looks like grocery shopping just became part of your weekend plans. Settling on a bag of popcorn, it is a vegetable of sorts, somehow right? You finally headed for the couch and turned on the Hallmark Channel to see if there was a movie you could get lost in for the rest of the evening. Before you know it, it was time for bed so you could get an early start on tomorrow.

It was an honor to be asked to be the Maid of Honor, right? You needed to keep reminding yourself of this as you wandered through the dress shop the next day with Meg. Meg was a friend from elementary school and sometimes you think you are the MoH because many others would not have been able to handle this process with her. She could be a little blunt and rude, but you were used to this and could take the wedding craziness coming from her. 5 hours and two shops later she finally found the perfect dress for herself. You couldn’t be happier since you had already spent two other Saturday’s out searching.

Her fiancé Cas, thankfully had the patience of an angel. They had met when Meg left for college in Kansas, he was a year older than her. After graduation he had followed her back up here. Six years later, Cas finally got her to say ‘yes’. She seemed to be a better person with him around, a little kinder. They would be good for each other and you were very happy for them.

Your love life on the other hand, was not so lucky. Two months ago, you had broken up with your only serious boyfriend. A night out with friends had ended in tears when trying out the new bar in town. You had turned around in time to see a flash of Justin in a corner booth, walking over you found him lip locked with another woman. You stood there shocked for a moment when the woman noticed you staring and commented on it. A look of shock on Justin’s face as he quickly moved away from her and tried to explain The rest of your drink ended up on him as you walked out of the bar. Meg having seen the whole thing took you home and kept your now ex out when he came over to try and talk to you. The guys you had been out with before him, hadn’t done much for your faith in men either, having made the choice to give up dating for now. You were two years away from thirty, and had always thought by now you would have settled down. Maybe that wasn’t in the cards for you.

It was only a little after three so you decided to stop at the grocery store on the way home, this way you wouldn’t need to run out tomorrow. You would be able to just enjoy a day at home. Arriving home you pulled into your assigned spot and went to empty your car, you were one of those people who tried to carry everything in one trip. At least the elevator passed yesterday’s inspection and was running today, or it would be a challenge carrying everything at once up 4 flights of stairs. Although you couldn’t open your door with your hands full and keys in your pocket. Freeing a hand you finally worked it open as the door opened behind you.

“Need a hand?” Turning around Dean was standing in the doorway leading to the opposite apartment.

“You don’t have to, half the challenge was getting it up here.”

“I know I don’t have to,” As he finished talking Dean leaned down to pick up the discarded bags. “Dinner for tonight or are we still good to go?”

“Still good to go, I just had an empty fridge and decided to hit the store today and enjoy tomorrow.”

Dean set the bags on the counter and started to unpack them. Looking at the various items he turned to you holding up molasses and baking soda, “These aren’t your typical dinner items.”

“No, this is me getting a head start on what I need for Christmas baking. I know it’s the start of October, but December comes quick, and I like to have my baking done for my family’s Christmas party the first weekend of December.”

“You bake?”

“Yes, I actually really enjoy it.”

“So what all do you make cookies, cakes, pies maybe?”

Laughing at the hopeful look in his eye at the last item you nodded your head. “Yes, those plus bars, and different candies. Christmas I do the most, although not usually pie for that. Different holidays or events vary, or when I’m in a funk and just want to get lost in my kitchen.”

“Ever need a pie tester, I’ll gladly volunteer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” The groceries unloaded Dean looked around before heading out saying he would be back at six. Glancing at the clock you saw it was almost five and decided to hop in the shower to get cleaned up.

There was a knock on your door right at six, dressed casually in jeans, a sweater and tall black heeled boots you opened it to see Dean smiling at you. Also having gone casual with jeans and a dark green henley. “Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yep, all set. So where are we going Mr. Winchester?” Dean turned, giving you a funny look, as you got into the elevator “What?”

“How do you know my last name? Been looking into me?”

“You’re Sam’s brother, right? I kinda thought they would be the same.”

“Oh, yeah, true. As for our destination, I thought I’d surprise you.”

You screwed up your face but just nodded. You didn’t want to come across as rude to whatever he was thinking. Getting in the car he turned to look at you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” There wasn’t much you hated more than surprises.

“Your face said otherwise a minute ago.”

“I was just thinking about something else, all good here,” You gave him a smile before looking out the window.

A short while later you pulled up outside a bar you hadn’t been to in a few months. Quietly getting out of the car you followed Dean inside. “Sam told me about this place, he said it was fairly new, but the food is good. Have you been here yet?”

“Once, but I wasn’t here long enough to eat.” It was early enough still it wasn’t too busy yet, Dean heading over to a booth asking if that was alright. You agreed and sat across from him. After ordering drinks and food it was a little awkward between the two of you. This wasn’t a date, what was it. You didn’t know the man so it wasn’t even friends hanging out. Not wanting to sit in silence any longer you decided to break it.

“How long are you visiting for?”

“I’m working on moving up here actually, I’m staying with Sam and Jess while I look for a place and find some work. Then I’ll head back to Lawrence with Sam and we’re going to drive my stuff back.”

“Oh wow, like the mitten state that much huh?”

Dean was quiet for a moment before answering, it almost seemed like he was having an internal battle on how to respond. “I needed a change and my brother and best friend both moved up here. Sam and I were pretty close growing up, and it would be nice to be near him again. My parents are still in Kansas but have talked about moving for a while. I can see them heading up here if Sam and Jess are here, especially if they end up having kids. I guess I’m going before I get left behind.” There was a sadness in his eyes that told you something was missing from his story.

“What kind of work are you looking for?”

“I actually was in business with my dad before I left. Owned an auto repair shop and we specialized in classic car restorations. Dad’s keeping the shop, but I’m guessing he’ll retire in a year or two and sell it. Going to see if anyone around here is hiring for now. How about you, what is it that you do?”

“Oh, I work at a physical therapy clinic in the business office. It’s usually a nice 9-5 job, but we had someone leave unexpectedly in the front office so I’ve been filling in for her and trying to do my work too. Makes for some later days. Someone new is starting next week so once they are trained it should calm down again.”

Dean was watching you and noticed you were doing your best to avoid looking around the bar, your focus either him or the table. “Is there someone you don’t want to see you here? A boyfriend I should worry about coming to beat me up? What’s up?”

“No, nothing like that.” Taking a deep breath you look up at Dean, “This place doesn't have great memories for me. The one time I was here I caught my then boyfriend making out with someone else. It was definitely a surprise, I wasn’t a fan of surprises before, but that was one of the worst I could have.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I should have checked the place with you first.”

Reaching across the table you put your hand on top of Dean’s, “No it’s okay. I really should just get over it anyways. It’s stupid on my part, right?”

“Not at all Sweetheart,” Dean turns his hand over giving yours a squeeze. “I understand to well how much that stings.” Letting out a deep breath he continues, “I had been dating this girl for over a year. Thought she was it ya know. I came home from work early to surprise her one day and found her in our bed with another guy.”

“Oh Dean, I am so sorry!”

He gave you a little smile before continuing, “It was my house. I kicked her out and put it up for sale, packed up my stuff and ended up storing it at my parents while I was staying in my childhood bedroom. I just couldn’t stay there. Got lucky it sold in a few months. I would see the two of them all around town and needed to get out of there. Sammy, and my childhood best friend, Cas like it up here so I decided to give it a shot”

“Wait, Cas? Is he engaged to Meg?”

“Uh, yeah why?”

“She’s my best friend, I’m her maid of honor. I’ve met Cas, he’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, she’s good for him. Takes him out of his comfort zone. Good for them, me on the other hand. I don’t see myself dating anytime soon.”

“Me either, I don’t have the best luck with relationships. I’m sorry for what you went though, you didn’t deserve that.”

“Neither did you.” You both sat there taking in what the other had said.

Dean spoke first, “I wouldn’t mind making a new friend though. Especially if she needs any taste testing when baking.”

Laughing before leaning back against the booth more relaxed than you had been, “I think new friends are good.”

Deciding it was time to lighten the subject you asked him another question. “So what brought Sam up here? I know Jess was from Indiana, not here either.”

“After law school Sam had been offered a position in a big firm in Ann Arbor, which I guess is like 30-40 minutes from here. Jess didn't want to live in the bigger city, she wanted to be in a little smaller town if they could. She said they did big city living in California during college and could visit Ann Arbor, or Chicago from here. Sam liked the idea of that too. I think they are both thinking of where they want to raise kids eventually”

“This is a good town to grow up in, I did. Why they moved here never came up in conversation. I’ve hung out with her and Meg before, and neither mentioned Sam and Cas were from the same town.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night talking and laughing more at ease knowing where the other stood. It was after 11 when Dean pulled back into the apartment parking lot. This had been one of the best nights you had had in awhile.

Part 2

Thank you for reading!!

Tags @talesmaniac89 @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth @anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83 @atc74 @sandlee44 @akshi8278 @fantasydevil2002

#Dean x female! reader #dean x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #FallingForYou

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herstarburststories · 4 years ago

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Mr & Mrs. Winchester

Kinktober day 7: Mommy Kink

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

@deanmonandnegansbitch asked: Omg, did I ask for AU Dean with Mommy kink in it? 😅👀👀👀 Like they are alone in his beautiful mansion and Dean returns from a hunt, needs to seek comfort from her while get an edge off

A/N: Part of this was written during a meeting (online!), so if it seems rushed it's because I was very overwhelmed. Anyway, I hope you guys like this! I know Dean did. ;)

Summary: Dean comes back from a hunt and needs some comfort from you.

Warnings: mommy kink, humping, and language

Tired has become more of a euphemism to him than anything, yet rest is the last thing on his mind when he makes it back to the mansion. He needs to file a report about the hunt and send it to Huntercorps, but he has to throw his favorite pair of Levis away first. They're stained with werewolf blood, and he forgot to bring another pair to the hunt.

The door that's twice his height closes behind him. The hunter sighs in exhaustion, but then you appear. You’re walking barefoot on the glossy hardwood floor that Samuel recommended polish for, bless him, and you’re wearing nothing but his shirt and a pageant smile. God, you look so beautiful and hot and his.

The hunt was hard, but the most excruciating part was being away from you.

“Someone looks tired.”

“Beyond that, my love.” Dean gives you a lazy smile and leans in to kiss your lips. “How was your day?”

“Good. Three of my patients made a lot of progress.” You grin at him. The concept of PTSD for hunters is still new, and John had implemented a project of therapy specialized for them. You had a degree in psychology before becoming a hunter, so you decided to give it a shot. “I'll get to the others eventually.”

Dean offers you a lopsided grin full of pride. “Of course you will. You’re the best psychologist in Kansas.”

“And you're the best hunter worldwide.” You wink at him, getting on your tiptoes to peck his lips again. God, long hunts are the worst for your enamored heart. “Come on, baby boy. Let's get to bed.”

“I can't. I need to — ”

“No, you don't,” you interrupt him. Dean's a workaholic. He'd end up spending the whole night writing the perfect assignment before crashing out of exhaustion, but not tonight. You haven’t touched, felt, or seen your husband in two weeks. Huntercorps can wait. “You need to rest. Come with me?”

How can Dean say no to you? Especially when you look at him with those wide, loving doe eyes, the sweetest grin on your lips and your messy hair piled in a bun. You could ask him to set the house on fire, and he'd light himself to start the blaze.

Therefore, the Winchester allows you to take him to bed. Your hand clasps his wrist, pulling the man to your shared bedroom.

“Did I mention that you look gorgeous?” he asks suddenly, laying on the mattress with you by his side. Everything feels lighter like this, as if gravity was just a silly hoax that lovers defied.

“Nah, but you almost drooled there, so I took the hint,” you tease him with a smirk, finding amusement from Dean's blushing cheeks. Two years married and he still manages to pull off the same boyish charm you fell hard for. How were you supposed to overcome the high school crush effect when Dean looked like that? You glance down at his legs and scrunch up your nose. The green-eyed hunter probably isn’t very happy about his pants. “Awe, these were your favorite.”

He huffs. “That werewolf didn't care about it.”

“Come here.” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling Dean closer. He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling the perfume he’d gifted you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” Dean says under his breath before you push your pelvis against his. “Mhm… Y/N...”

“What did you say, baby boy?”

He's quick to correct himself, the pink on his cheeks increasing furiously. “Mommy.”

“That’s better. What do you want, Dean?” You run your fingers through his hair, quietly appreciating the whine that leaves Dean's slightly open lips as you move your clothed pussy against his semi-erect cock. You know he needs to ease up. That hunt took a lot on him. The bags under his eyes and flattened smiles are evidence of that. “What do you want?”

“I need to cum. Make me cum, mommy. Please.” He kisses your neck and tries to chase your hips with his, searching for more friction. His cock is quickly growing in his pants. Two weeks, he went two whole weeks without you, your touch, your care.

He’s touch-starved for your pussy.

“You're such a good sub, Dean. Of course, I'll let you come,” you tell him, but you aren't having this tonight. You want him to come like this, rubbing against you like an animal. You want him to experience your skin and how good he feels on your body before Dean actually fucks you like you both so desperately need. “But you need to do that in your clothes.”

He gasps, looking up at you. “B-but—”

“Dean, you were such a strong man. Come on, I know you can do it, honey. You went out of there and killed all the werewolf pack. You can do anything. I believe you.” Your praise flows freely, keenly aware of how much he loves this. Dean groans against your collarbone. “Humping me until you come. Can you do that for mommy?”

“Y-yes.” You move to lay on your back, and Dean hurries to put a leg around you, careful not to hurt you. His cock is fully awake now, pressing studiously to your waist through his ruined Levis.

It doesn't take a wasted second before Dean starts humping into your soft skin, The mere friction of his clothes against your heat covered by his old shirt are enough for now. He keeps thrusting as if this is your pussy, and he can feel the precum making a mess of his hardness and underwear.

“Good boy. You are doing so good, Dean. You look so handsome like that.” You bit your lower lip, fingertips finding a safe space on the back of Dean's mind, caressing there. It’s a lovely contrast to his rough thrusts. He's in despair for more touching; he needs you. “I can feel how hard you are for mommy, baby boy. I love you so much. Keep doing that.” He moans at this, not caring if he was loud or not. You love it when he's loud for you. Dean keeps fucking your pelvis, hard cock now on your stomach. He keeps rubbing against you while spreading kisses on each bare part of you that his lips are lucky enough to find. “You look so hot, baby.”

The hunter can't take it anymore. Dean gets on top of you, lifting your shirt between groans and moans. He humps your pussy restlessly, catching a glimpse of how wet you are for him.

It’s only for him. Dean kisses your forehead. It almost brings him a light-hearted feeling. There was some appropriateness of his rose-colored lenses burning red when both of you were like this because, yes, there's love, but there's also passion, need, and desire.

God, he just wants you.

Your attempts of keeping collected are thrown out of the window when Dean climbs on you. Your legs soon find their away around his waist, pulling him closer and moving your hips to gain relief. There is a bittersweet sensation of friction against your wet pussy, but that isn’t what it really craved: Dean's cock deep inside you. There was something about this delicious anticipation.

“C-can I come?” Dean asks amidst kissing your neck and dry humping. You nod, catching the corner of his lips.

“Of course you can come. Come for me, baby boy,” you say breathlessly. Dean pushes his lips to yours, tongues ultimately meeting in a passionate kiss that whispered everything your hips and words were saying before. He presses his hardness right onto your pussy, coming in his underwear. You can feel his cock twitching, eliciting a moan against his perfect lips as you find your liberation too.

Dean falls by your side, breathing erratic, before pulling you into his arms.

“I love you.”

You giggle at his revelation. His breath tickles your ears. “I love you too.”

Dean didn't get up to finish any report for the rest of the night.

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phalene33 · 3 years ago

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I wanted to do something nice for myself so I'm going to write a Choptop X my oc Kat short story. If people enjoy it I'll make a Part 2.

After a long battle with dealing with my abusive father, and taking care of my younger sister, I finally saved enough money to move away. I wanted to stay far away from my home state Kansas, and have settled on moving to a small town called Newt in Texas. I don't know much about Texas, or even the town itself, but from the few times I've been there it reminded me of my home town. So Newt was probably the best choice I had.

Checking how much gas I had left in my tank I drive over to a nearby gas station. It looked very run down. I assumed that the place was abandoned, so I was sorta surprised that a man came over to greet me. "Hello there ma'am, never seen you around these parts. You aren't around here are you?" "No sir, I used to live in Kansas but I just moved in. My name is Kat Valentine." "I'm Drayton Sawyer, I hope your move wasn't too difficult." "I had some problems arrive along the way but nothing I couldn't deal with. Do you have any gas?" "No ma'am, but show up tomorrow and we'll have some ready for ya." I nod and drive off to my new home hoping that by tomorrow I could fill up my car.

The next day I drove back to the gas station and to my luck they had some gas for me. After the man called Drayton filled up my car I gave him $20 and a tip. Driving off I set off to the nearest big city, wanting to get some things for myself. After driving for a few miles I finally entered one of the big cities. I drove around looking at all the businesses noticing a music store. I pulled into the parking lot and went inside. There was tons of albums from different artists of all genres. I immediately started looking for Plastic Beach a Gorrilaz album. Looking all over I noticed a odd looking man holding it. The man seemed to be a hippy, and he had pale skin, along with a birth mark going across his face. He also had the prettiest blue eye's I've ever seen which wasn't surprising considering most of the people in my hometown had brown eyes.

Despite hating public social interaction I decided to ask him where he found that album. Approaching him, I try to look slightly above his eyes so I didn't have to make eye contact. "Hello sir, I was looking for that same album you had in your hand. Could you tell me where you found it." I struggle to put on a natural looking smile, and mentally cussed myself out for sounding so strange. "Ah th-this one?" The man waves it in front of my face almost as if to brag about having it. "I-It's the last one h-honey, you'll have t-to come back n-next time!" He gives me a smile mocking me. Not wanting to deal with this I grab it out of his hand and starts running. "I'll let you have it back if you can catch me!"

The guy got down on his hands and knees and crawled after me like some kind of animal. But that was his first mistake. All I did was simply sit on him and raised the album high above me. He tried grabbing it, not realizing I weighed 115 pounds, and he could have simply just wrestled me for it and win. "G-Give it to me! I f-found it fair and s-square!" "Don't care, could have just gave it to me, but now you get to look like an idiot infront of everybody." The man gave me a look then pushed me off of him. I look up at him with the album close to my chest. "What? You didn't like me riding you or something? Wanted to be on top huh?" I hoped my flirting tactics would fluster him, so I could make my escape, but he just slightly blushed and looked down at me and laughed. "A-Arent you such a t-tease!" He grabbed the album from me with force. "Give it back fucker!"

He looked at me with excitement. "O-Or what?" I just stared at him not sure of what to say. "What's your name fucker?" Is all I could think to say. If I knew a little bit about this man I could possibly come up with a good threat. "B-Bobby Sawyer but everyone c-calls me Choptop!" He takes out a clothing hanger and scratched his head with it. "Wh-what yours?" "Kat Valentines..." I thought for a minute and remembered the name of the man who worked at the gas station. " I'm going to tell Drayton that you stole from me!" Yes I technically stole from him, but I wanted this album and I was willing to lie for it. He looked at me nervous for a second before speaking. "H-How do you know m-my brother?" "I met him yesterday, I was going to get gas for my car and we had a nice conversation." He stands up. "W-Well if you tell him anything, y-you'll regret it!" He then runs out of the store with the album.

All that work for nothing. I thought to myself before leaving to go back home. On my way home I decide to stop at the gas station again to talk to "Choptops" brother. That's right, I'm not giving up that easily. I want that damn album. I walked into the gas station and over to Drayton.

"Hello Miss Valentine, good seeing you again." He was holding a broom but didn't seem to be using it to sweep. "Hello Mr. Sawyer." I replied to him. "Haha please Mr. Sawyer was my grandfather." I give him a warm smile. "And Miss Valentine was my mother." We both chuckle lightly. "Just call me Kat." "Alright Kat, did you want to talk to me for a reason?" Thinking back at the album I nod to myself. "In fact I do, your brother has stolen something of mine." He gave me a frown and looked troubled. "I-I see." he thinks for a moment. "How about you come over for dinner tomorrow, and I'll have him return it to you then." I think about what's being said for a second. "For dinner? Oh you don't have to, I would just like him to return it." "Nonsense, you are new here, it would only be polite to to have you over for dinner." He kept insisting I stay for dinner so eventually I gave in and agreed.

The next day I didn't feel like getting out of bed, but in my search for that album I got up anyways and drove around town. Looking for the man who had what I so desperately desired, and after searching every small business I finally found who I was looking for..... On the side of the road waving at me to try and get my attention. I parked my car and got out walking over to him. "Got sum trouble with your truck here?" "D-Damn thing broke d-down on m-me." He started cussing in frustration. "Okay okay calm down, let me look at it." "You can't fix it, just drive me home!" I look at him annoyed. "Don't tell me what to do or I'll leave you here album stealer!" He replied with a tired sigh. I look at the engine to quickly learn that it over heated. "Good luck getting that fixed buddy." I set my arm on his shoulder. "Pl-please just take me home." He whined. "Give me that album and I will gladly do that." "Never!" "Okay..." I walk over to my car and get in. Choptop got into the passenger seat next to me. "I'm not taking you home until you give me that album." I stick out my tongue teasingly, only to be met with him pushing his lips against mine, and his tongue aggressively pushing against my own. Shocked I just sat there frozen until the kiss was over with. "L-Looks like I'll get to spend the d-day with you then." I keep quiet and drive off.

Though the drive was long it wasn't in silence. Choptop almost immediately turned on the radio and started talking to me. Telling me about his family and his interests. I would be lying if I told you I didn't find it cute whenever he talked about something he liked. His eyes would get big, and so would his smile. He would do hand gestures only stopping to scratch himself with the clothing hanger.

"K-Kat do you l-love music as m-much as I-I do?" I turn to look at him. "Mhm, my mother was a music prodigy before she died, so I grew up with different kinds of music." Mentioning that made him way more excited then before. He was practically vibrating like a woman's sex toy. "R-Really? D-Did she teach y-you how to p-play any i-instruments?!" I nodded and proceeded to name off a few that I knew how to play. He quickly cut me off tho. "Y-You should be the lead f-female singer in my b-band Cornbugs!" I was about to agree to it before realizing something.

"Hey you dirty thief, you need to give me back that damn album!" I hit him lightly in the arm. "I-I will, just agree t-to be the l-lead female singer i-in my band!" I sigh and give him a look. "Fine..." Choptop screams in excitement and gave me a kiss on my lips before pulling me into a hug.

#chop top #chop top sawyer #tcm 2 #texas chainsaw massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #short story #self insert #chop top x reader #drayton sawyer

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imagineteamfreewill · 4 years ago

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Remember

Pairing: Reader x Sam or Dean (Reader’s Choice)

Word Count: 3,525

Warnings: Amnesia, brief description of car accident

Bingo Square Filled: Amnesia

25 Days of Tropes Prompt: Temporary Amnesia

Summary: The reader is recovering from a car accident that caused her to temporarily lose most of her memory. She’s on her way home just in time for Christmas with her husband, whom she’s hoping will answer some of her questions.

A/N: I realize that it’s December 27th, but this is part of the 25 Days of Tropes series/collection and is also a submission for the 2020 SPN Christmas Bingo ( @spnchristmasbingo)! In this, the reader is not American but her ethnicity is not specified.

25 Days of Tropes Masterlist

2020 Christmas Bingo Masterlist

________________

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, and the man who’d barely left your side since arriving at the hospital two days ago—your husband, you reminded yourself—let out his umpteenth sigh of the hour.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. It’s okay.”

“I know, I know, but—”

“Y/N,” your husband interrupted, his voice firm. “It’s okay.”

You looked down at your lap. The man continued to lace up your boots for you in silence and you only lifted your head when the nurse came in with the wheelchair you were supposed to ride down to the car.

“Are you almost ready, Mrs. Winchester?” she asked and you nodded when she gave you a kind smile. Thankfully, she didn’t seem as nervous around you as the other nurses and doctors seemed to be, and you appreciated that she was calling you by your name. The others had just referred to you as “ma’am”, which was oddly formal, even if they were just trying to be respectful.

Your husband stood and grabbed your bag from the end of the hospital bed before you could, shaking his head at you. “I got it,” he said. “Doctor said you should take it easy.”

Scowling a little, you got to your feet and went over to the wheelchair, allowing the nurse to help you sit again. “I only hit my head. I’m not helpless.”

The nurse gave you another good-natured smile and squeezed your shoulder. “Everyone’s like this when their loved ones are recovering, sweetheart. Cut him a little slack,” she quietly told you.

The three of you left the room after that, and you noticed that you didn’t head towards the elevators you’d seen all the other released patients use to get down to the lobby. Instead, the nurse wheeled you to a smaller, staff-only elevator on the other end of the hallway.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

Your husband shifted the bag on his shoulder as the nurse pressed the button for the lower level of the hospital. “Down to the car.”

“But everyone else always takes the other elevators.” You turned in the seat to look up at him better and he gave you a tight, tired smile.

“Yeah, well, we’re taking these. It’s closer to where we parked,” he explained.

Even though you felt like there was some valuable piece of information missing from that explanation, you sat back in the seat and waited for the doors to open again. After all, you were missing a lot of valuable information. You could remember bits and pieces of your life but it wasn’t enough to create any substantial story for you to grasp onto. You could, however, remember the things you’d bought your husband and his brother for Christmas. Apparently your brain had decided that was valuable information when it locked up the rest of your memories after the accident.

Shortly after your arrival at the hospital, you’d woken up in a panic after being unconscious since hitting your head. The first thought in your mind had been your husband. You couldn’t remember his name, but his face was crystal clear in your mind and you’d sobbed in relief as soon as he’d arrived. He was more than willing to hold you as you cried and tried to figure out exactly what you remembered from before the crash. The meager memories weren’t helpful in piecing together who you were, who he was, or anything major about your life. It was all just scattered moments from across the years. Some were happy and some were sad, but it was altogether frustrating whenever someone asked you a question and you didn’t know the answer.

Your car had hit a patch of black ice, according to the officer who’d come to get a report the day after you’d checked into the hospital for more testing. You hadn’t been able to provide him with anything useful other than that you were fairly certain the two Christmas presents you’d gone out for were in the trunk of your now totaled car. The officer had reassured you that no one else had been hurt, and for that you’d been thankful. He’d also mentioned offhand that the driver of your car was doing fine as well, which had confused you. Were you unable to drive? You were pretty sure that you remembered driving, but maybe that was something your brain was making up.

When the elevator doors finally opened, the nurse wheeled you through a dim hallway towards a set of double doors that opened outwards into a parking garage. There was a uniformed man on either side of the doors, and as you neared them, the one on the right lifted his hand to his ear and spoke quietly before dropping his arm back down to his side. They opened the doors for you and you blinked against the bright December sunlight that flooded into the basement hallway.

“I don’t understand,” you said as the nurse pushed you down the ramp into the garage. It was empty except a black car with dark, tinted windows. Another man in a suit was standing beside the back door of the car and he opened it as the wheelchair was parked a few feet away.

“It’s okay,” your husband reassured. He nodded politely at the nurse, and when you glanced back at her she was straightening up and heading back into the building with the fourth uniformed man you’d seen since getting off the elevator.

“What is all this?”

Your husband handed the duffel bag off to the man who’d opened the car door, then took your arm and helped you stand. You were still a little dizzy and you quickly clung to his arm as someone pulled the chair away from you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Keeping your eyes closed, you gripped his arm tighter and hummed in acknowledgement of the question as you waited for the world to stop spinning.

“Y/N?”

“M’okay. Just need a second,” you mumbled.

Everyone waited silently until you opened your eyes and met the gaze of your husband. He was watching you with heavy concern and you offered him a weak smile.

“I’m okay. Just got a bit dizzy,” you said. “Car?”

He nodded and carefully helped you over to the backseat of the car, where you slid in and got comfortable on the far side of the seat. You buckled in and looked around while your husband said something to the man holding the door open, then got in himself.

The inside of the car was luxurious, with dark leather covering the seats and another seat that faced yours. There were track lights along the floor and the ceiling and you looked around in silence, taking it all in. A divider separated you from the front seat and whoever was going to be driving, which made you wonder if you were wealthier than you realized.

“You okay?”

Nodding a little, you looked over at your husband as the door was shut behind him. “Yeah. Is this our car?”

He nodded and gave you another tired smile. “Yeah, but it’s not the one you were in before. That was a different car, and it’s a different driver, too.”

“Oh.”

The back of the car fell silent and you folded your hands in your lap as you listened to someone get into the front seat and start the engine. Shortly after, the car jolted forward and you watched out the windows as the parking garage disappeared and was replaced by the city, then by long, winding roads lined with fields of snow on either side. There were barren trees farther off in the distance and you watched for a few minutes as the car sped past. Occasionally, a dark flock of birds would swirl through the air before settling on the tree branches or flying off towards wherever they spent their Christmas holiday.

“So we don’t live in the city?” you asked. You looked away from the window and your husband glanced up from his phone to nod at you. “That’s nice. I never liked the city.”

“I know. You always say that you feel like you can’t—”

“Like I can’t breathe, yeah,” you finished. Hesitantly, you reached over to touch his wrist when he looked back down at his phone. “How long have we been together?”

He turned off his phone and slipped into the pocket of his jacket. Your husband was well dressed, you noticed, but you quickly focused yourself back on what he was saying instead of how he looked (even if you did appreciate the way he looked).

“—years now. We met when your family was on vacation in the States,” he was saying. “That’s where I’m from. I grew up in Kansas, if we’re being specific.”

“Oh. And you moved here to be with me?” He nodded. “Did I not want to live in the States?”

Chuckling softly, he slouched down in the seat and took your hand in his, squeezing once before letting go. “It’s a little bit more complicated than that.”

You were about to ask what he meant by that when he glanced out the window and cursed quietly. Reaching forward, your husband picked up a plush black blanket that you hadn’t seen resting on the seat opposite you.

“I need you to do something and I need you to trust me. Can you do that, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you instantly answered. You may not remember much about this man or your relationship with him, but you knew that you trusted him wholeheartedly and that you were deeply in love with him. You could feel it deep down within you.

“I want you to lay down on the floor and put this over you,” he said, holding out the blanket. “Don’t sit up until I say it’s okay.”

You took it and did as he asked, confused but willing to do as he asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, Y/N. Just stay down there for me, please,” he replied.

A moment later you heard a crowd outside the car. People were shouting and you heard something hit the window, and you curled up into a ball underneath the blanket. All the noise made your head pound and your heart speed up in your chest and you squeezed your eyes shut as the car slowed to a stop. The people outside grew louder for a moment until finally the car started moving again. It took a few minutes, but the noise dissipated into silence once more and you heard your husband let out a sigh. He reached down and touched your shoulder and you carefully sat up to look at him with wide eyes.

“What was that?” you asked, and you couldn’t stop your voice from trembling as you spoke.

He gave you a sympathetic look and carefully removed the blanket from over your legs, tossing it away from you before helping you sit back up on the seat. “Nothing you need to worry about, I promise. They’re gone now.”

Nodding, you watched him for a moment more before looking out the car windows. You gasped when you saw the expansive estate that had suddenly appeared all around you. All thoughts of the noisy crowd that had seemingly surrounded the vehicle fled your mind as you took in the sight. There were cobblestone paths that wound through patches of empty ground, ones you could only assume would be teeming with life if it weren’t the dead of winter. Thick evergreen hedges bordered the paths. There was a stone fountain around which the paths all met, and several people were stringing up lights on the fountain, several barren trees, the hedges, and a white, snow-capped gazebo on the far end of the wintery garden. When you leaned over your husband to look out his window, his hand slid over your back and rested there, but you were too busy marveling at the enormous manor that was similarly decorated with strings of lights and lush green garland. It was clearly an older building. Maybe you’d inherited it? Either way, it was almost as big as the hospital and it stretched wide in either direction. A tall fir tree stood in the center of the circular driveway that would take you up to the front door. It reached up into the evening sky, and as the driver pulled the car around it, you smiled wide at the gold, silver, and red decorations that covered every inch of every branch. They glittered in the setting sun and the light cast by the black iron lamps that were around the driveway and the paths of the estate.

“This is where we live?” you wondered aloud, and you sat straight again so you could look over at your husband for an answer.

He smiled at you, clearly amused by your reactions even if it was painful for him to see you like this. “It is,” he replied.

“Are we billionaires?”

He laughed at this question, then reached over to squeeze your hand as the car rolled to a stop. “No, though I’m sure people think that. I promise I’ll explain, I just want to make sure that you’re settled first before we start talking about stuff.”

You nodded dumbly. Before you could say anything else or go back to admiring the Christmas tree out the window, the door on your husband’s side opened up and he climbed out, then reached back in to offer a hand to you. You took it and let him help you out of the car, where you were greeted by two straight rows of uniformed men and women. As you stood, they all dipped down into bows and curtsies.

“What—”

“Your Majesty,” the closest man said as he stepped forward. “It’s good to see you looking so well.”

You stared at him, bug-eyed, before swallowing hard and looking over at your husband. He still held onto your arm to support you, but he was glaring at the man who’d addressed you.

“I’m…” you trailed off, looking around you as you tried to put the pieces together. “I’m a princess?” As it left your lips, you frowned. The word felt wrong coming from you, somehow.

The man who’d spoken had the good sense to look uncomfortable, and he quickly stepped away as your husband moved to block your view of the two lines of people. You looked up at him, at a loss for words.

“No,” he told you. His voice was soft and sure, but you sensed his hesitancy. “You’re not a princess. You’re the Queen, Y/N. I’m sorry, I planned on telling you myself so it wasn’t such a shock. I was hoping you’d have remembered on your own by now.”

“I’m the… I’m the Queen?”

He nodded and kept his gentle, yet apologetic, gaze focused on you.

“So when you said that you moved here to be with me…?”

“It was because your job is here, yes,” he answered. “I wasn’t born royal. I was an American citizen.”

“And the crowd we drove through?” you asked.

“Reporters who were hoping to snap a picture of you on your way home from the hospital. We’ve done that before, usually because we’re sneaking back from a secret date. I’m surprised it didn’t trigger a memory.” The corner of his lip turned up slightly when he spoke about taking you out.

You swallowed hard and stared at the knot of his tie. “What do we do now?”

“Now I dismiss the staff and we go up to our apartment for dinner. I’ll make you something to eat, if you’re hungry, and then we can talk or you can go to bed. Whatever you want to do.”

“Do I need to… Do I have to do anything?”

He shook his head in response. Nodding back at him, you let out a sigh of relief and allowed your husband to lead you into the building through a large set of double doors that were opened for you. He moved you swiftly into an elevator. You barely had any time to take in your lavish surroundings before the doors were closing and he was sticking a key into an opening in the button panel. When he turned it, a button near the top of the panel lit up and the elevator started moving.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Our apartment. When you became Queen, you didn’t like the idea of any staff member being able to wander into our home whenever they felt like it, so you had the special lock installed. People can only come in if we let them in or if they have a key, and only one or two other people besides us have one.”

“That’s smart,” you murmured.

“Well, you’ve always been the smart one out of us.”

You felt heat rise in your cheeks at the compliment. You felt as if you barely knew the man you were married to, but somehow he still made you feel as if you were his whole world.

“Somehow I doubt that. You seem like a pretty intelligent guy,” you said as you climbed off the elevator.

The apartment you stepped out into was nothing like you’d expected. It didn’t look like someplace you would expect a queen to live. It was simple and homey. Even the Christmas decorations were a far cry from the ones you’d seen on the way into the estate. You noticed as you got closer that on the tree was an eclectic collection of homemade ornaments, ornaments from various places around the world, and sparkling lights mixed with strings of popcorn. It was exactly the kind of decorations you liked, and you briefly wondered if you’d done the decorating yourself or if your husband had helped. What did he do while you were doing your work? What exactly did you do? What happened to your people if you couldn’t remember how to do your job? Would they fire you? Could you even fire a queen?

Reaching out, you pulled an ornament from one of the branches in an attempt to focus on something other than your racing thoughts. It was a small metal picture frame with holes dotted in it. They made tiny constellations and you quickly identified the Big Dipper and Orion. The picture was of you and your husband. You were both laughing and his arm was around your shoulders. A memory tugged at the back of your mind as you hung the ornament back where you’d found it and turned back around to look for your husband.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“What do you want for Christmas?” you asked in response.

He frowned, confused. “I just want you to get better. Don’t worry about Christmas right now.”

“No, tell me,” you insisted, shaking your head. “I need to know.”

“I—”

“You wanted a new watch, didn’t you? Because you’ve had that one since you were in college and you’d been complaining that it wasn’t working as well as it used to! That’s what I went out to get you but I couldn’t find it because… Because...” You searched your mind for the answer as he stepped closer, one hand outstretched as if he was readying himself to comfort you if you couldn’t remember. “I couldn’t find it because the driver went to the wrong store! I remember!”

A wide smile lit up his face and he took both your hands in his, squeezing gently. “That’s great, Y/N. That means that coming home was the right decision. You’re starting to remember things.”

You shook your head and ignored the bit of dizziness that came along with the movement. “No, I remember everything! I remember this—” you turned and picked up the ornament you’d put back on the tree “—because I remember that we were laughing at your brother’s reaction to the gift you’d gotten him! And I remember that we had to move the party here last minute instead of flying back to the States because there was that contract with the national union leaders that I had to take care of and we didn’t know how long it was going to take! And this year I was so worried that something else was going to come up that I rescheduled one of my meetings so that I could go get the watch for you myself. I didn’t want to have to rely on someone else to pick out the perfect gift for you, so I left the palace to go Christmas shopping!”

Laughing, your husband pulled you into his arms. He squeezed you tight and you squeezed back.

“I was so worried,” he half-laughed, half-sobbed. “I was so worried I wouldn’t get to spend Christmas with you, at least not all of you.”

“Well, you do. It’s okay. You’ve got all of me now,” you replied. You pulled away enough so that you could cup his cheek in one hand. He was teary-eyed, as were you, and you gave him a watery smile. “I’m here. Coming home was just what I needed.”

_______________

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imaginesandinserts · 4 years ago

Text

Irreverent Pt. 17 - Big Brother

Title: Irreverent Pt. 17 - Big Brother Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: T (Teen) Words: 2050

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Things had gone back to normal - or as normal as they ever got when you caught serial killers for a living. Cases at work had picked up with Hotch back in the driver's seat, and you were all starting to heal.

The team had successfully wrapped up a case in Kansas City involving missing children, so needless to say spirits were high. You drove back to the airport with Hotch, Spencer, and Garcia, with the others in another car behind you. Garcia had tagged along since the Unsub had been known to hack into home alarm systems and it would be good to have her on the ground with the rest of the team.

"What does everyone have going on for the weekend?" Penelope had obviously bored of listening to Spencer's lecture on quantum physics he'd been telling her about for the past 20 minutes. You and Hotch had conveniently tuned out, choosing instead to argue over your taste in music. You had been doing your best to introduce him to new artists instead of listening to The Beatles for the millionth time, and currently you were making a good case for Hozier.

"Jack's away at the lake with his cousins, so I have a free weekend for once," Hotch revealed. You were happy for him to be getting a break - he'd been working himself ragged trying to be Super Agent and Super Dad - a break was definitely a good call.

Before you could answer Penelope, your phone rang, distracting you and leaving Spencer to tell Penelope about his upcoming weekend of hustling with Emily in Atlantic City. The two of them made a dynamite duo in scheming drunk guys out of their money and had turned it into an annual tradition.

You quickly pulled your phone out of your pocket and saw - for possibly the fiftieth time that week - the name Dominic flash on your caller ID. Your brother had been pestering you for a few weeks now, trying to get in touch. No doubt he was doing your father's bidding. Being rid of him entirely had been too much to ask for.

You quickly dismissed the call, catching Hotch's glance in your direction. You shook your head at him, mouthing, "Later." He nodded in understanding, before tuning in to the conversation in the back once again.

"What about you, sugar?" Penelope asked, looking at you eagerly, awaiting your answer.

You thought for a second - what did you have planned for the weekend? With Jack away and Emily and Spencer off to Sin City, you didn't really have much to do. I should really get friends besides people I work with and their children. "Nothing planned," you said, turning in your seat to look at Penelope.

"Oh come on, Y/N! You're young! Vibrant! You should have plans. Men courting you." Penelope had been the most disappointed when you'd ended things with Cedric during the peak of the Foyet case. You had had more important things to worry about and between both of your busy schedules, actually seeing one another was becoming impossible. That was when you'd started to understand how hard it must have been for Hotch with Haley. He loved the job and he loved her, but she'd asked for him to leave it and in the end he hadn't been able to. While you sympathized with Haley, you got why Hotch had chosen the job. It would have killed him not to.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes good naturedly. "When would I meet men, Pen? The only men I meet are serial killers."

"Actually, statistically speaking, you run into at least fourteen eligible mates every time you step outside," Spencer rattled off in his all knowing voice. "Plus, you're a female of above average attractiveness, so it is actually closer to twenty for you."

"And yet, somehow, I'm single," you retorted. "I must be chasing them away with my attitude." You heard Hotch chuckle from next to you. He should laugh more. It makes him look younger.

*------------*

Penelope had talked everyone into going out once again, using the excuse that Hotch was free and didn't have Jack. You could tell he wasn't thrilled about being used as the excuse - he was so bad about enjoying bar type settings. However, he'd agreed under the agreement that everyone turned in their report to him before they left for their weekend activities. Spencer, Penelope, JJ, and Rossi had gone ahead, having quickly rushed through their reports. Hotch wouldn't leave until everyone had turned theirs in, and you didn't want him to be waiting alone, so you were sitting in his office keeping him company while waiting for Emily and Derek to wrap up as well.

When you'd brought your report up and then turned and sat on his couch instead of leaving, Hotch had quirked an eyebrow at you in question. "Can I help you?"

"Nope!" you said flouncing down on his couch. "I'm just waiting up here to make sure you can't just bail."

He rolled his eyes at you, but then fixed you with a contemplative look.

"What?"

"It's later now."

You looked at him, confused. "Yes…"

"The phone calls. You got them all week. Don't think I didn't notice."

"Right." Nothing ever really got past Hotch. "Dominic has been calling me, incessantly," you admitted.

"Your brother?"

"Yeah. I think my father put him up to it, and as he and I are no longer on speaking terms, I don't want to open any doors to communication."

"You know," he said quietly, as he walked up from his desk to come sit on the couch by you. "You don't ever talk about your mother."

"Well," you began slowly, focusing on a spot on the opposite wall as you spoke, "she wasn't really much of a mother, I suppose. My parents were that couple that should've separated a long time ago. Pretty sure I was the save-the-marriage-baby." You expected to see some pity on his face, but he simply sat and nodded, so you continued. "But, when it didn't work my mom sort of went away, always in her own world. Say what you will about my dad, but at least he was around, as much as he could be. She could've been there all the time - she just chose not to be."

Hotch had a way of making you want to talk to him. You'd tell him something awful, and sometimes he'd try to help. More often he'd just listen.

This time, he chose to speak, in his deep comforting voice. "You know, you should be proud. It's kind of amazing that you came out the way you did, given everything."

You felt a warm glow surround you as you looked up at him, sincerity radiating off of him. "Thanks, I think," you laughed.

Derek's voice cut through the moment, "Hey, let's go you two! I've got mine and Prentiss's report here," he said, striding in and placing two files on Hotch's desk.

You saw Hotch get up, undoubtedly to check their work, but you were done waiting. "Nope, that's for Monday. Come on!" And against his protests, you grabbed his jacket and led him out the door.

The four of you drove over to the bar and found a spot a couple of blocks down. As you started walking towards the bar together, you heard a voice calling you from behind, causing you to tense up immediately.

"Y/N! Y/N, wait!"

You turned to see a large dark figure moving towards the four of you, and as it got closer you recognized your brother's face. Hotch and Derek were both instantly on alert as well, ready to come between you and the man hurrying towards you.

He looked much the same as he had the last time you saw him. He stood as tall and broad as Derek, looking even more intimidatingly large in his dark suit. "Dominic! What're you doing? Following me?" You were pissed.

"I need to speak with you," your brother said, moving as if to usher you away from the others.

You took a step backwards to avoid him and instead bumped into Hotch. "Anything you want to say to me, you can say it in front of them. But remember, they're federal agents, so I'd watch my words if I were you."

He glowered at you for a moment, before accepting that he wouldn't be able to catch you by yourself. "Father has a message for you," he announced.

"Oh yeah? Still playing dad's lapdog, are you?"

"You need to go man," Derek came to stand by your side, intimidatingly.

"You're being ridiculous!" Dominic seethed ignoring him, "You're disgracing yourself and everything we've been taught."

"What's the message?" You tried to remain calm, knowing it would rile him up more to see you unaffected by his old bullying tactics. Maybe then he'd just leave.

"Come home. The family needs you." He repeated what were obviously words fed to him by your father.

"Tell father to leave me alone, Dom. I won't be his pawn anymore." You tried to do an about face and move the others along with you, grabbing Derek's arm with you.

"You're Emily Prentiss, aren't you?" You'd thought he was done, but his words towards Emily gave you all pause. "I've got a message for you as well…Valhalla says hello."

As you watched Emily's face lose all color, your brother turned around and vanished back into the shadows from where he'd come.

The mood sufficiently ruined, you all ended up back at the office so that Emily could fill you in on whatever or whoever Valhalla was.

As Emily explained her undercover role playing the IRA terrorist's girlfriend - Ian Doyle, codename Valhalla - you started to realize that you never truly know a person. Not that it changed how you looked at Emily per se, but that there are parts to people and their histories that you might never know, despite feeling as close as sisters to them.

"So, if Dominic L/N has a message from Valhalla, then that means that L/N Sr. knows Valhalla too, right?"

"Yes, most likely. I'm going to have my contacts at Interpol look into this," Emily said, in response to Derek's question.

Hotch had been pretty quiet, so the three of you turned to him to see what he was thinking. Noticing all eyes on himself, he looked at the three of you and then more specifically at just you, before sighing and pushing up from the table. Hotch spoke, carefully choosing his words, not quite meeting your eyes. "For some time now I've suspected that the CIA has a case open on Mr. L/N, and I think this pretty much confirms those suspicions."

"Wait, what? Why would you think that?" you asked, unsure of why this was the first time you were hearing about this.

Hotch sighed again, unsure of how to tell you. Slowly, he explained, "To be honest Y/N, I've suspected it since you told us about your dad. Your rejection from the CIA never sat right with me. After your dad was here the last time and the case with Dawson, it made sense that your rejection was tied to some conflict of interest they would have with you being part of the agency and not anything to do with you personally."

You swallowed, trying to process what Hotch had said. If you were honest with yourself, a small part of you knew he was right. It had never sat right with you either, but at the time you hadn't been feeling confident and had assumed your year of partying had somehow been to blame.

"You really believe that, don't you?" You looked up at him as he stood with one hand tucked into his pocket and a furrowed brow.

"Yes, I do."

"Well then, I think a visit to the CIA is also part of knowledge gathering before we can more forward and assess the full threat." Emily's past as a rogue was definitely showing here as she drew herself into commanding position. The rest of you agreed to defer to her experience, deciding that she would get in touch with Interpol and visit the CIA alongside Hotch.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch x you #hotchner x you #irreverentseries #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotchner imagine #hotch x y/n

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percywinchester27 · 4 years ago

Text

A lot like ‘Us’: Separation

Word count: 1.6K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Mentions of multiple deaths, feels, fluff

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: This timestamp takes place before the first chapter of the series. I wrote it for myself, because it’s a snapshot of their lives that demanded to be fleshed out.

The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014.

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

29th August 2014

Sam simply had to look away. He couldn’t bear to see the pictures Stacey had put in front of him.

“Why’re we doing a homicide, again?” Chase asked, face screwed up. He didn’t want to see the horrifying images either.

Stacey pursed her lips. “Sam had told me he’d like to be informed if something similar to… you know... if something like this ever pops up.”

Sam had told her that. She was only doing what she’d been asked.

“So, what’s the deal?” Sam motioned with a tilt of his head towards the photos on his desk.

“Victor Parker, 37 and Alicia Parker, 32, were found murdered at their San Jose home yesterday. They are survived by a 5 year old boy John.”

“What happened?” Chase’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Burglary gone wrong, or so the cops are saying. The resemblance of the crime scene was all too uncanny. I had to tell you.”

Stacey wasn’t wrong. The way the bodies were splayed- just like Simmons.

“Where’s the boy?” Sam’s fingers scratched against the etching on his pen. A nervous tick he had developed over the years when he started feeling the panic.

“In the hospital, fighting for his life. The assholes shot everyone. Little John got it twice. The surgeons removed the bullets, but there’s been a lot of internal bleeding.”

Sam flinched, closing his eyes.

Chase got up from the chair. “What’re we going to do about this? We’re lawyers not law enforcement or miracle workers.” He turned to the girl before him. “Stace, darling, c’mon. There’s nothing we can do for the poor boy. We work private law jobs and this is the DA’s territory.”

Stacey pushed her hair behind her ear, distressed. “Sam, you okay?”

“Sam?”

“Hmm?” He looked up, fingers sweaty against the obsidian in his hand.

She looked like something had just occurred to her. “Wait… Wasn’t your dad’s name John? Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry if I brought something up.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m okay. It’s not that.”

It wasn’t. His parent’s death had been a grave tragedy, but it affected Dean a hell lot more than it had ever affected Sam. He had always been sheltered, protected and loved by a brother who was his entire family.

Sam let out a long breath. “Call the PD and check with them which hospital they’ve put John in, will you?”

“On it!”

He watched Stacey hurry out of his office.

Chase gave him an apprehensive glance then walked out of the cabin, too. He wasn’t wrong about what he’d said earlier. There was nothing Sam could do. Max’s case was a one off. Ralph Simmons had been a client to Johnson’s before, so Max was by default on the firm’s radar. These murders were only a news report. Even though Sam couldn’t be legal help, he could always be monetary help. It’s why he’d asked Stacey to keep a look out. If there was anything Sam could do for little John, he would.

The glass door opened, and his secretary stepped in.

“Stace?”

Her lower lip quivered before she put her face in her hands. “Just heard from the Hospital. He passed, Sam. That little boy didn’t make it.”

******

“Mr. Winchester, can I offer you something? A glass of water, perhaps?” The principal asked him, casting a side eye at the other teacher.

“No, thank you,” Sam whispered. “I just want to see my son.”

“I have to tell you, this is very irregular. We usually don’t pull out kids from their classes. Is something wrong?”

He closed his eyes and said the words with deliberation. “Nothing is wrong. I’d just like to take my son home early. Will that be a problem?”

The principal gestured to the teacher, who Sam now realised was Max’s class in-charge. She shrugged. “Sure. There’s just an hour of school left for the year. You can take him home.”

When Max shuffled into view outside, through the office’s blinders, he looked small and confused, brown eyes flitting nervously. It was all Sam could do not to fall on his knees and hug him to his chest.

Max’s eyes went round with worry as he read Sam’s. Kid just always knew.

With shaking legs, Sam made his way out and clutched Max’s shoulder. He would have picked his boy up, but the fear of collapsing kept him from doing that.

“Come,” he said quietly, placing a hand against Max’s back.

Max followed without a question, climbing in the passenger’s seat.

Sam drove the rest of the way doing his best not to break down. His eyes kept tearing up and he rolled them up each time to stop the threatening tears from spilling.

Once home, he discarded his coat and sat Max down on the sofa. The packed suitcase, along with Max’s backpack stood right next to it.

“Stay here, let me fix you something to eat, okay?”

Sam’s kitchen was open, he could see Max from where he was standing in front of the stove. The eggs broke unevenly and the whisk shook in his hands. Next time that Sam’s eyes flitted to the sofa, it was empty.

“Max? Max!” He yelled.

“Right here!” Max was sitting on the kitchen island right behind, feet tucked under him.

“I told you to stay right there on the sofa!”

Max dropped his shoulders. “You’re spooking me out, you know?”

Sam was taken aback.

“Look,” Max sighed. “If you don’t want me to go, I won’t go, okay? It’s not that big a deal.”

Closing his eyes, Sam leaned back against the counter next to Max. “It’s not that. I… Well, I had a rough day at work.”

“What happened?”

He wasn’t sure how to put it to Max, but he sure as hell couldn’t lie to him.

“You don’t want to tell me,” Max huffed.

“Something very sad happened today,” Sam breathed. “And I just… I couldn’t take it-” his voice broke. “I couldn’t breathe another minute without seeing you, knowing you were okay.”

Max was silent for a moment, then he spoke through pressed lips. “You look funny. Bad funny. You wanna sit down?”

Sam gulped once and pulled himself on top of the counter next to Max.

His house wasn’t big, but it sure felt cavernous when Max went over to Jody’s for the night sometimes. One whole month. How was he supposed to live?

“Your hands are shaking,” Max said in his sweet, ringing voice. “Sam, you’re scaring me.”

First rule of parenting, don’t let your kid see you fall apart, Dean’s words came back to Sam.

He ran his hand over his face- it must’ve been white- not knowing what to say to Max.

“I’m not going to the camp,” Max announced.

“No. You should go. Your aunt Jo would butcher me with one of her fancy knives if you don’t show up now. I’ll be fine.”

The boy next to him didn’t look convinced. Max saw right through him with those sharp eyes. “You’re bluffing. And I thought you were the best lawyer in the world.”

“All kids think their parents are infallible.”

Max snorted. Sam turned to look at him.

“You’re infallible, alright, but you’re also stupid!”

“What?”

Little brown fingers grabbed Sam’s hand, stealing eyes. “It’s just a camp.”

“But you want to go, right?”

Max didn’t say anything. Sam knew he’d been dying to go to that mechanics camp his uncle Dean had suggested. It would mean cars, tools and dinners with his aunt and uncle on the weekends. Dean and Jo were looking forward to this, too. They had their own kid on the way and Jo loved Max. Much like Sam, it was second nature to her to keep looking at the roads and door and be disappointed each time when the person she was hoping to see never showed. Sam couldn’t disappoint her.

“I’ve never been away from you for more than a day since you moved in with me. I wouldn’t know what to do with my days.” Or life for that matter.

Max smirked. “Uncle Chase keeps asking you to have fun. So have fun.”

Chase’s definition of fun was very different from Max’s. Sam wasn’t interested.

“You call me everyday, you hear me?” Sam said through a thick throat. “You miss a day and I’ll haul your ass back all the way from Kansas. I won’t care if the camp counsellor says no. I can throw hands.”

Max gave him a very slow once over then snickered. “No one’s dumb enough to fight you.”

Sam couldn’t stop himself. He threw his hands around the little boy, engulfing him completely. “I’m going to miss you so damn much, son.”

“Can’t. Breathe.” Came the muffled words. Sam eased the grip.

“I’ll miss you, too, Dadda.”

Thirty-one days. Sam could do it. Monday was the orientation lecture for the new class of Stanford Law. A fresh batch. Sam was supposed to teach Civil Procedure. That would keep him plenty busy. Submissions, hypos, presentations. He could take over extra cases at work, make more trips to LA to check on the boys home. The month would be in and out and before he knew it, his kid, the light of his days, would be back to bouncing on his couch and reading on the kitchen counter.

Max yawned against Sam’s stomach.

Yeah he could survive. After all, what could possibly happen in thirty-one days.

********

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Love in Sin

Prologue

Summary - Special Agent Winchester is forced to go undercover with his frenemy Special Agent L/N when they try to track down a notorious drug dealer. How will Y/N and Dean complete their task? Will their relationship worsen or will new feelings emerge between them?

Pairing - AU Detective!Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Warning - Fluff, Angst, Slow burn, Implied Smut, Violence, Swearing

Chapter Warning - Mentions of drug and crime, Angst-ish, Fluff-ish

A/N - This is my first AU Dean Winchester x Reader series. This is also written for @holylulusworld's 'Tropetopia'. My trope was 'fake marriage' (Hope you like this)

This is also an entry for @deanmonandnegansbitch's 200 AU challenge (Congratulations on your 200)

It has been beta'd by the lovely @deanwanddamons (Thank you so much for correcting my awful grammar and for giving me important suggestions about the series)

Spn divider by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89

If anyone wants to get tagged in the series, let me know!

“Detective Winchester.Please meet me in my office,” Executive Director Mr. Bobby Singer ordered with a sour look on his face and marched off to his office.

“Hey Y/N, did you hear what Captain said to me?” Special Agent Winchester smirked at Y/N, “Meet me in the office. Why would he ask me that? Maybe he wants to give me a new case, maybe something about a triple murder.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Dean, unless you don't want to get your feelings hurt, stop talking shit. I haven't had my coffee yet and you better go to Mr. Singer’s room. He’s really grumpy today.”

“Oh don't worry, I will handle him just fin-”

“Winchester! In my office. Now!” Mr. Singer barked at Dean.

He shot you a nasty look and scurried off to Mr. Singer's office.

“Sir,” Dean said, approaching Bobby’s table.

“Close the door Winchester,” Mr. Singer said in a calm voice. Dean closed the door and took a seat at the table.

“What I am about to tell you shouldn't leave this room. I will brief Special Agent L/N about this case later, but I need to talk to you first,” Mr. Singer said, trying to maintain an even tone in his voice.

“Yes sir. This thing stays between us...and Y/N.” Dean rolled his eyes when he said your name.

“We got news about a huge drug racket going on,” Mr. Singer put forth a map of an area, “here. You see in this red circle. This is the area.”

Dean studied the map carefully. It was a map of Lebanon, Kansas. There was a red circle drawn over a particular area.

“You think there is a drug racket going on? Do we have any evidence?” Dean asked Bobby.

“That's the thing - we don't have any evidence-”

“So it's all just based on an assumption?” Dean eyebrows shot up. Mr. Singer was never the one who worked on assumptions. This was new.

“Not all assumptions. We got hold of a drug dealer’s name - Crowley-”

“Crowley? He is one of the most notorious drug dealers. He is literally a ghost. He always escapes the detectives and police forces. He is like the boss of the underworld,” Dean’s eyes started shining with excitement, but his mouth snapped shut when he saw Mr. Singer glaring at him.

“Will you let me continue Winchester and not interrupt me by fanboying over Crowley?

He apparently has ties with other drug dealers and we need to find that. He has been seen numerous times in that neighbourhood, but he always disappears when the police get to the area,” Bobby said.

“That's interesting. What do you want me to do?” Dean’s hands shook with excitement. This was going to be the biggest case so far.

“Winchester. You will be going undercover with Y/N as a newly married couple. You will be leaving your duties here and will need to cut ties with this office. I will give you my personal number which you will use to contact me and keep me updated . You and Ms. L/N will be staying at a rented house in that neighbourhood and you will take a simple job there. We have to catch Crowley. Winchester, are you willing to do this?” Mr. Singer asked Dean whose head was now swimming with all the new information.

This surely was going to change his life.

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flutistbyday-1 · 4 years ago

Text

Simple Man Part I

This is a Supernatural AU, featuring an OFC (reader). The reader meets Dean in high school, and they face challenges together. They’re separated and reunite after the reader hears Dean sing a song that they wrote together.

Based on the song, “Simple Man” by Lynyrd Skynyrd, but inspired by Jensen Ackles’ version, WHICH I HIGHLY RECOMMEND LISTENING TO before reading this! If you’re a sucker like me, it’ll make you cry.

TW: angst, cussing, mentions of sex (this is probably one of THE tamest things I’ve ever written!!) May make you cry if you’re a weenie like me.

Tags at the bottom. Want to be added to my tag list? Go here.

Characters: Dean x OFC (reader), Sammy Winchester John Winchester(mentioned), Mary Winchester

Part II soon!

Word Count: 3,113

Credit for the image here.

PART I

Dean Winchester remembers his fourth birthday like it was only yesterday. On said birthday, Mary Winchester, belly swollen with Dean’s little brother, patted the couch beside her.

“Come here, baby,” she had said.

Dean can still remember how pretty his momma looked with a baby in her tummy. He padded over to here, and less-than-gracefully clambered onto the couch. Mary pulled him into her lap, cradling him close. Dean was careful not to hurt his momma.

“I want to talk to you before your little brother is born, Dean. I want you to know that your daddy and I will always love you and that nothing will ever change that, okay?”

Dean nodded. “Okay, momma.”

Mary smiled down at her son. “Pay attention, Dean. This is important.” When she knew she had Dean’s attention, she continued. “I want you to promise me when you’re older, you’ll find someone to love as much as I love your daddy.”

Dean looked up at his mom, hanging on to every word.

“You’ll have troubles, but they won’t last, okay? There’s more to life than money, Dean. Remember to pray. Remember to never take anything for granted, and never be greedy for money. Be a simple man, Dean, and you’ll never want.”

Dean Winchester would never forget the speech his mom gave him.

Dean was three months shy of five when his mother died in a fire. She sacrificed herself to save his little brother, Sammy.

“Take your brother and run Dean!” she yelled at her eldest son, and that’s what he did. He didn’t stop until he was three houses down.

Mary Winchester was dead before the firefighters arrived.

Dean crawled into the crib that a local church had provided for Sammy that night. He bit John when he tried to remove Dean.

“I gotta protect him, Daddy!” Dean screamed at his father. John never tried to pull Dean from Sammy’s crib after that.

John remembers Sammy’s first word—he was nine months old, playing with his older brother. The word spilled out of Sammy’s chubby-cheeked smile quickly, almost like he’d said it a hundred times. Sammy reached over and tugged on his brother’s shirt.

“Bean,” Sammy said.

Sure, it hurt John to not be Sammy’s first word, but the love in Dean’s eyes as he scooped up his brother made John smile.

Dean Winchester cried on his first day of school—not because he was scared, but because he didn’t want to be separated from Sammy. He had just learned to walk, and Dean always watched Sammy like a hawk, picking him up and encouraging him to try again when he fell.

Sammy loved following his big brother everywhere and didn’t understand why he couldn’t stay with Dean. “Bean?” he’d ask his brother.

“I don’t want to go, Daddy,” Dean protested, alligator tears streaming down his face. John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know, Dean. But you have to go to school.” John’s voice was reserved. He’d had this fight every day since he told Dean about kindergarten.

Dean held Sammy closer to his chest, turning so his back was to his father, acting more like a twenty-five-year-old than a five-year-old. “Who will watch him while I’m at school?”

“I will, Dean.”

Dean couldn’t help but roll his eyes, once again acting twenty years older than he was.

John had no interest in being a father. A cool uncle, maybe.

Dean was the primary caretaker of Sammy—fed him, changed him, bathed him.

John provided housing, clothing, and food.

Dean’s teacher came over and knelt to his eye level.

“It’s okay to be scared, Dean,” she said. “Your brother will be fine without you. You’ll be home before you know it.” Her smile was warm and Dean almost felt better. He handed Sammy over to his father and took Miss. Lenhard’s hand. She guided Dean to his seat, but the boy didn’t take his eyes off his father and brother until they were out of sight.

After Dean started school, something changed in John, and his depression began eating him alive. He could barely be bothered to make sure there was enough food on the table, let alone wake up in time to take Dean to school. John didn’t know or care that Dean’s shoes had holes in them, or that Dean’s jacket was tight around the shoulders, or that the onesies were getting too small on Sammy.

John only cared about numbing the pain in his heart with liquor.

So Dean took it upon himself to be a father. He learned how to pickpocket at six—he never once got caught—and used the money to buy shoes, food, and clothes.

His dad taught him how to play and hustle billiards when he was seven. Dean was a natural. It was one of the last times Dean saw a glimpse of the father he remembered.

He’d used the money he won hustling for food, clothes, and even helped his dad pay some bills. Dean never told his father how he and Sammy always managed to have new clothes, but John didn’t care.

When Dean was nine, he held Sammy’s hand until his little brother pulled away from him to meet his classmates. For the first time in four years, he felt at ease. Two meals a day and he didn’t have to worry about his dad neglecting Sammy.

One day, John dropped them off and Dean heard a teacher say, “Good Lord, look how filthy those boys are!” The first thing Dean felt wasn’t anger at his dad for letting them leave the house like that, but fear that he’d be taken from his dad, and therefore, Sammy.

So, Dean got himself and Sammy ready every day— he took his dad’s alarm clock to his room and set it for 6:50 AM— dressed, then got Sammy ready, fed them both breakfast, and woke his dad up to drive them to school. He did this five days a week until Sammy could wake up himself, but he still made breakfast and made sure they were presentable for school so that they wouldn’t be taken away from John and separated.

Dean took shears to Sammy’s hair in an attempt to tame it and he did okay. Dean got better at it over the years, and once Sammy was old enough to cut Dean’s hair, he got good at it, too.

When Dean Winchester was 15, he got his first job and could put food on the table—legally, at least. He got hired on as a mechanic at a local shop. The only time John had paid him any attention as a child was when they worked on the Impala, so Dean was good with cars.

He had been taking care of Sammy for 11 years and thought he was doing amazing, thank you. He was happy. He didn’t take anything for granted like his mom had made him promise.

So when Y/N walked into his life at 16, he was unprepared for how much he had to learn.

******

It was your first day at Lawrence High, and you were nervous. You had transferred from a small town called Arlington, Kansas. Your class had been all of 20 people whom you’d grown up with your entire life, and you didn’t know how to feel about being dropped into a school full of strangers. You were 16, in your second semester of junior year, a band geek, and totally lost.

You groaned, looking over your schedule—homeroom was in five minutes and you had no idea where to go. You turned, desperately searching for clues as to where to go when a wall of a boy ran into you.

You went down in a tangle of limbs and backpacks.

“Oops, I’m sorry—”

“My bad—”

Both of you tripped over your words as he picked himself off the ground. You rolled over to your backside and sat up.

“It’s okay,” you said, shaking your head and smiling. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

He offered you his hand, and you took it gratefully.

“Thanks.”

You looked up at him—he had to be almost six foot. He was well built for his age, and even though he was on the skinnier side, you could still see his muscles. His eyes were bright green, and freckles danced on his face. His smile was killer, too.

“So, where ya headed?” He asked as he situated his backpack on his shoulder.

You shook your head. “I don’t really know. It’s my first day and I’m lost.”

The boy chuckled. It wasn’t a mean sound, more like amused. “Who’s your homeroom teacher?”

You shoved your schedule into his hands and he examined it. His face lit up, and you couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. “Mrs. Lanning. Me, too. Let’s go!”

He tugged on your hand and took off running. You laughed as you tried to keep up with him—he was almost a full foot taller than you. You kept up, though. You were both out of breath by the time you reached room 207.

The two of you darted into the classroom just before the bell rang.

“Just in time,” he grinned.

You shook your head but returned the grin.

He made a point of sitting near the back and placing his backpack on the empty seat next to him while you approached the teacher to introduce yourself.

Mrs. Lanning smiled brightly as she signed a piece of paper indicating you showed up for class. “It’s great to have you, dear.”

You returned the smile. “Thanks.”

You awkwardly made your way to the back of the classroom and sat at the desk with the boy’s backpack.

“I’m Dean, by the way.”

You didn’t hear him right and you knew it. “Bean?” you asked with a teasing smile.

You could see the wheels turn in his head. He was sad for half a second, but the mood was fleeting. He shook his head and returned his own cheeky smile.

“Dean,” he repeated, emphasizing the D. “Dean Winchester.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Mrs. Lanning shushed the class and you tried to pay attention, but you felt two green eyes boring into you for the entire period, making it hard to concentrate.

When the bell finally rang, you looked at your schedule again. Math was next, room 412. You groaned.

You stood and gathered your things, noticing that a certain someone was waiting for you. He looked relaxed and at ease with his body, things you were definitely not.

“Where’s your next class?”

“Math with Mr. Alan.”

Dean smiled again. “Me, too.”

You laughed, calling after him as you left the classroom, “Come on, Bean.”

You and Dean got along great. You had three out of seven classes a day together—four out of eight on days with homeroom—and he lived just down the block from you, so he offered to drive you to and from school every day.

Dean teased you relentlessly about being a band geek, but when you started dishing it back about him being a jock—a football player—he dialed it back just a little. Sammy took to you immediately—you bonded over nerdy things like math and history, making Dean roll his eyes. Sam listened to you and soon gave you just as much affection as his brother. You quickly became the mother figure he had to grow up without.

You helped Sam—and Dean—with their homework, helped Dean come up with age-appropriate punishments for Sam when he misbehaved (he was only twelve, regardless of how mature he acted), and taught Dean how to cook something besides meals that came in a box. You even taught Sam and Dean how to cut their hair in a more age-appropriate style.

You didn’t think twice about taking Sam and Dean in—you loved and trusted them both with your life after just one afternoon. It was second nature for you to want to care for them, and boy, did they need you.

Dean Winchester had known you all of three weeks before he knew he loved you.

Dean was careful not to take you home. He didn’t want John seeing you, talking to you… Or scaring you away. He didn’t want you to see the dark, dirty secrets of his life. He worked really hard to make sure that nobody saw what happened behind closed doors. And he wasn’t about to let you see.

Your mom was a nurse who works nights, so you and Dean were in the same boat. Your mom wasn’t absent, though, just busy.

Dean and Sammy spent a lot of time at your house when Dean wasn’t at work. They came over after school and did homework, you would make dinner for them and your mother, and you and Dean would sit down at the piano after dinner was put away and homework was finished. You would play, Dean would try to play, but the two of you sang together.

While you could play the piano, Dean could play the guitar. He loved singing with you—your voices complemented each other. Sammy would always stop whatever he was doing to listen to you sing.

One day, Dean came over with a notebook full of empty sheet music and asked for a pencil.

“Sit at the piano, would ya?” he asked, not even paying attention to you.

“Would it kill you to use manners?” you joked as you sat at the piano bench.

Dean looked up at you and gave you a cheeky smile. “Please?”

You rolled your eyes but turned to the keys. “What am I doing?”

“We are writing a song.”

“Oh, really, now?”

Dean nodded. “You have a better ear than I do, so I’ll sing a note and you’ll match it.”

“And what’s the name of this song?”

A blush crept over Dean’s face.

“I don’t have a name yet, just a few words.”

“Okay. What are they? Start singing, Winchester,” you mock ordered.

He sat down next to you, notebook in hand.

He began strumming his guitar, and the chords pulled on your heartstrings. The words were achingly beautiful, too. He began to sing, a beautiful tenor, almost bass voice coming from the boy who was on the cusp of being a man. You could tell he was trying to keep his emotions in check as he sang, his voice wavering occasionally. He got through two verses before he had to stop.

“Oh, take your time, don't live too fast

Troubles will come and they will pass

You'll find a woman, yeah, and you'll find love

And don't forget son, there is someone up above"

“And be a simple kind of man

“Be someone you love and understand

“Baby, be a simple kind of man

“Won’t you do this for me, if you can”

The words tore at your soul. You didn’t have to pry to know that song was about his late mother.

You easily matched the pitches and rhythms of his tune and helped him write it down. By the end of the day, you only had one verse done, but you could tell Dean had poured his heart into this song. That was the day things changed for you.

Dean, sitting there, writing a song about his mother, was the tipping point in your relationship with him. It was that day you knew you loved Dean Winchester and would never love another man as much as him.

Eventually, Dean started spending less time with you. You felt hurt and upset, wondering what you did for him to pull back. When you confronted him, you were not prepared for his response.

“I’ll tell you after school,” he said. He looked up at you and his green eyes were dark with grief. You pulled him into a hug and waited for him to hug you back. He squeezed you eventually and you let go.

That day after school, you were anxiously waiting with Sammy in ‘your spot’ that you and Dean had claimed. When Sammy spotted Dean, he ran over and hugged him. It was odd for a 12-year-old to show so much affection, especially to another male, but you just figured that they were really close.

You offered your hand to Dean platonically. You found comfort in his warmth, and he found comfort in your friendship. The three of you started walking towards Dean’s car.

“It’s not gonna be easy for me to tell you this,” he said quietly. “I’m only telling you because I trust you. And if you tell anyone, I swear—”

“I won’t tell anyone,” you promised quietly.

Dean nodded as he looked at Sammy.

“My dad, uh… well, when Sammy was a baby, my mom died. My dad tried really hard to keep himself together… And he did. For a little while.”

Dean started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

You didn’t say anything.

“But when I started kindergarten, something changed. I mean, I guess I always took care of Sammy. I changed his diapers and fed him when Dad was at work, but when Dad came home he would help. When I started kindergarten, he stopped caring. I had to learn how to fend for myself. And Sammy.“

Your heart broke. You looked over at Dean, tears threatening to spill. Dean glanced at you briefly and you could see that he had tears of his own. You reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“I did OK. I really did. But Dad‘s been acting really weird lately and… He’s not working as much as he used to. I got a job a few months ago and it helps, but my dad takes my paycheck and buys liquor instead of food. I got into a fight with him a few days ago about it and he left. Haven’t seen him since.”

You gasped.

“How long?” You asked quietly.

“Three days,” Sam answered vehemently.

You turned and looked at Sammy. No tears in his eyes, just hate. You looked at Dean again, and his face had hardened.

“Oh, Bean,” you whispered.

“Is it wrong that a part of me wishes he would leave us alone for good?”

You didn’t have an answer. The rest of the car ride was silent. He had just delivered such an emotional blow and you were reeling. Your head hurt a little. When Dean pulled up to your house, you looked over at him, then at Sammy.

“If you need anything,” you started. Dean just nodded. You made eye contact with Sammy and he just gave you a tight smile.

Your heart was heavy when you fell asleep that night.

PERMA//FOREVER

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