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mldrgrl · 3 years

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Broken Things 1/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall Summary: The year is 1886, William Mulder owns a horse ranch in northern Texas. The widow of a neighboring landowner has something he wants. Notes: Please be aware that this fic will contain ‘off-camera’ references to violence and abuse of various kinds. I will not be tagging individual TWs on the chapters.

Prologue

Many years from now, when he tells the tales of his younger days, he will claim that this is the day that changed his life forever. If that horse hadn’t thrown a shoe, well then. His wife will roll her eyes at this, tell him that any number of events prior to that day had already changed his life forever. The decision to leave Massachusetts for the open prairie, for example, had changed his life forever. The fact that his father had sent him to live with his aunt in the countryside instead of keeping him in the city had changed his life forever. The pony he received for his birthday when he was a child had clearly changed his life forever.

All of that will hindsight one day. Right now, it’s just an ordinary Thursday, the 9th of September, 1886. The weather is mild, almost cool compared to the heat wave that had hit in the latter half of August. And William Mulder’s horse has thrown a shoe.

Chapter 1

Normally, Mulder (only his family ever called him William) sends his ranch hand, Melvin, to take care of small errands and menial tasks, but he hasn’t been to town in almost a month and he could use a change of pace. He hitches one of his more reliable horses to his wagon and takes one of the ones in training as well, one he’s just broken in, to see how he handles on the hour-long ride. Their first stop is Gray’s Blacksmith.

After tying the horses to the post, Mulder gives them both a good scratching about the neck for a job well done and receives a snort and whinny of appreciation. “Well done, boys,” he says. “Carrots and apples at home for both of you if you keep up the good work.”

The familiar sound of clanking and hammering and the crackle of fire greets Mulder as he steps into the open door of the blacksmith’s. He tips his hat to the striker, who nods a greeting. The blacksmith turns and nods as well.

“Mr. Gray,” Mulder says.

“Mr. Mulder,” the blacksmith answers, passing his tongs to his assistant and then removing his gloves to shake hands. “What can I do for ya?”

“Faithful Jenny’s thrown a shoe. Melvin’s fixing her up, but I figured it was a good time to pick up a crate of nails and shoes.”

“Come on back and take a look then. How’s business?”

“Doing well. We’re training up a half dozen draft horses for the postal service right now.”

“Is the rumor you pulled in a mustang a few weeks ago true?”

“Afraid so.”

“You ain’t got a broken neck far as I can tell, so you must be faring alright with him then.”

“You can see him for yourself when I take this cart out to the wagon.”

“You brung him with ya?”

“I did.”

“I’ll be.”

Mulder feels a surge of pride when the blacksmith comes out to admire the horse. He slides the crate of shoes and nails into the back of the wagon and then shows off his friendship with the four-legged beast by rubbing his belly. The horse scratches the ground with his front hoof and shakes his head.

“You sure got a way, Mr. Mulder,” Mr. Gray says. “If you got any stock you’re looking to sell I heard there’s a new homesteader a ways south that was interested.”

“I’m on my way to the mercantile. I’ll be sure to ask John.”

The two men shake hands once again before Mulder gets back in his wagon. He smiles to himself when the blacksmith watches him leave. He’s made a name for himself in the short while he’s been here breaking and training up horses. Folks in the area have said time and again that there isn’t a horse he can’t tame, that it’s almost downright spooky the way he seems to be able to talk to them.

There’s a man being waited on in the mercantile that Mulder doesn’t recognize, probably someone just passing through. He waits for John Byers to finish with the customer, browsing the Montgomery Ward & Co. catalog at the end of the counter.

“Mulder,” John says after ringing the man up at the till. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, John.” He pulls a shopping list from his pocket and unfolds it. “I’m sure you’re better at translating Melvin’s chicken scratches than me at this point.”

“I believe I can manage.” John chuckles and takes the shopping list. He pulls a crate down and begins to collect items off the shelves and William goes back to the catalogue, thumbing past the illustrations of ladies’ garments to find menswear.

“If I put in an order for denim trousers for me and the boys you think they’ll be in by winter?”

“I’d say it’s likely.”

“Mr. Gray mentioned there were some new homesteaders interested in horses.”

“He must mean Mr. Campbell. It’s oxen he’s after, I believe.”

“If you hear otherwise, send him my way.”

“I’ll do that. I suppose you heard about your neighbor?”

“What neighbor is that?”

“Jack Willis.”

“Haven’t heard a thing. What about him?”

“He spent all of Saturday night at the saloon in a poker game and was found dead in a ditch just outside of town on Sunday morning.”

“Robbed?”

“I should actually say he spent all Saturday night losing in a poker game and downing whiskey like water. I heard he stumbled his way into that ditch of his own accord and met an untimely demise.”

“I only met him the once, but that doesn’t surprise me much. Far be it for me to speak ill of the dead, but the man had a disagreeable disposition. He seemed like the type to get himself into trouble.”

“Well, the bank is soon to be after his widow. I’ve heard he’s in arrears. I’m actually surprised the Sheriff didn’t stop on at your place on his way out there to tell her about her husband’s death.”

“Didn’t know he had a widow. And you know Sheriff Doggett, he’s all business.”

“My Susannah saw them together, he and his wife, the day they passed through looking for land, and you know Susannah, she was beside herself at the notion of another woman come to town, but then no one’s seen hide nor hair of her since.”

“I still regret having been back east when Old Man Goodwin passed. I’ve had my eye on that land for quite some time.”

“Maybe she’ll sell it to you.”

Mulder rubs at his chin in thought. “You say the bank is about to repossess?”

“That’s the rumor. I don’t think Mr. Skinner would relish evicting a new widow, but there probably isn’t much he can do if the mortgage is late.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to take a ride out to pay my respects and assess the situation. Thank you, John.”

Byers nods and gestures to the items laid out on the counter. “I’ll have John Jr. load the cart for you. Would you like this on your account?”

“I’ll square up everything now, but go ahead and order those trousers.”

The hour ride back home gives Mulder time to think. He’s in a position to offer the Willis widow a handsome sum for his neighboring acres. The one and only time he’d met Jack Willis he was immediately soured on trying to form any kind of friendship with him. The man had been downright surly and abrasive and he sure hopes the widow is more neighborly.

Melvin takes over the wagon when Mulder arrives home and shows him the new shoe on Faithful Jenny. The older man is at least a foot closer to the ground than Mulder and proudly displays a life-long love of hearty biscuits around his middle, but there’s no better right-hand man that Mulder could ask for. He’s foreman and farrier, counselor and cook. There isn’t anything Mulder doesn’t trust him with. As they unload the wagon together, he tells him about what he heard from John Byers.

“Well, there’s no harm in asking,” Melvin offers as advice. “If’n the bank really is after her, she might be grateful for the offer. You should probably get out there as soon as possible in case anyone else might be sniffin’ around for them acres.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“You know if’n I’d heard about Bob Goodwin any sooner I’d have snatched up them acres for you before I could even send a wire.”

“I know, it’s not your fault. Do me a favor, old man, tack up Blondie while I try to make myself presentable.”

“That could take hours. Days even.”

“Decades, in your case. If it’s even possible.”

The two men laugh over their gentle ribbing of each other and Mulder claps Melvin on the shoulder. He parts from his friend to go wash his face, comb his hair, and put on a fresh shirt. His horse is saddled and ready to go when he comes back out.

“Good luck,” Melvin tells him.

A narrow, slow-moving creek divides Mulder’s property from the Willis widow’s land. It’s one he’s crossed many times when Old Man Goodwin was his neighbor. He knows where the shallowest spot is to lead the horse and where the shrubs are too thick and have to be avoided. He tries not to daydream about what he’ll do with an expansion, but he passes the spot he’d like to clear out for a better corral and where he’d like to add another stable and it’s hard not to hope.

The old sod house that Old Man Goodwin had slapped together is still standing, though it looks to have seen better days. The roof needs patching and the walls are crumbling in spots. He dismounts Blondie when he’s still a few yards away and leads the horse over to the post he knows is at the side of the house. The nearby trough which is usually full of water is empty. The chickens that were usually clucking and underfoot are nowhere to be seen.

Mulder knocks lightly on the clapboard door and moments later a woman with the reddest hair and the bluest eyes he’s ever seen answers.

↭

Katherine is expecting the knock when it comes, though it’s sooner than she thought it would be. In the days since her husband’s death, she’s racked her brain for a solution to her current predicament, but has come up empty handed. She doesn’t delay in answering the door. She may be on the verge of being destitute and homeless, but she’ll face it with dignity.

“Uh, Mrs. Willis, I presume?” the man asks. He stammers a bit but he has an easy, congenial smile that catches her a little off guard. She’d been expecting the Sheriff she’d met on Sunday, but perhaps the bank manager in this town takes care of evictions.

“Mr. Skinner, I presume?” she finally replies.

The man chuckles and removes his hat. “Ah, no Ma’am,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “I’m afraid I have a bit more hair than our dear Mr. bank manager.”

“Oh.” She should have known. The bank managers she’s had dealings with in the past were stuffy and pinched. This man is far too rugged and handsome to be a bank manager.

“William Mulder.” He holds out his hand to her and when she gives him hers, he bows slightly and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips lightly across her knuckles. Embarrassed, she pulls her hand back and closes it into a fist to hide her dirty and calloused palms from him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asks.

“I know we haven’t met before, but I happen to be your neighbor just to the south. I heard about your husband and I’ve come to pay my respects.”

“I see. Would you...care to come in, then?”

“Thank you.”

He has to bend to step through the low-frame of the door. She has no candles, but there’s enough light from the open door and the unpatched holes in the walls that it’s unnecessary. She watches him look the place over and she can tell he’s not impressed by the shabbiness of it all.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you,” she says.

He smiles politely. “That’s alright, Ma’am. I came to be neighborly, but there is also a matter I wanted to discuss regarding this land.”

“Oh?” Fear grips her suddenly. He may not be the bank man, and he may not be the sheriff, but he could be another kind of lawman. Even if he was telling the truth that he was her neighbor, he could still be there to turn her out, or worse yet, remove her to debtor’s prison. Unconsciously, she begins to tremble.

“Mrs. Willis?” he asks. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she answers, pulling the tattered shawl draped over her shoulders a little tighter across her chest. “A chill is all.”

He looks around again. “You’ve no chair to sit on?”

“No.”

“Would you like to come back outside? Perhaps it will be warmer. You could sit on my horse.”

The absurdity of the offer makes her laugh and eases her anxiety somewhat. He bites his lower lip almost shyly and tips his chin down as he turns the hat over in his hands again. She stares at his mouth, thinking about how the slight overbite he has seems to suit him well. She notes other things too, in the silence. Like how his beard is well-trimmed and his nails are clean. He presents himself as a cowboy, but she knows a city man when she sees one.

“Um, Mrs. Willis, I…”

She flinches at the name. “Katherine,” she says.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’d prefer you call me Katherine.”

He cocks his head a little to the side and smiles. “Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,” he murmurs.

She can’t help but lift her right eyebrow. It used to irritate her husband immensely when she pulled faces, as he called it. “Rather Kate the Curst,” she replies.

His eyes widen and seem to brighten. “You know Shakespeare?”

“You look surprised.”

“No, no, it’s just...I haven’t had much opportunity to discuss the Bard out here. Apologies for the Taming of the Shrew reference, but whenever I come across a Katherine, I can’t help but make the association. Especially when it’s not altogether untrue.”

She feels the heat rise to her cheeks with the compliment that she knows is entirely unwarranted. She was never very pretty. Her mother used to complain about how wild and curly her hair was when she was a child, not to mention the dreadful freckles across her nose and cheeks. It may have been quite some time since she’s been in the presence of a looking glass, but she doesn’t need one to know that her appearance is lacking.

“I suppose I could have just as easily been a Viola or an Ophelia,” she says, avoiding his flattery.

“Hopefully not a Lady MacBeth.”

“No.” The conversation stalls momentarily, but then she wets her lips and tightens her shawl again. “You said there was something you came to speak with me about?”

“I was away on some business when Old Man...ah, that is, when Mr. Goodwin, the previous owner of your land, passed on. I’d been eyeing this parcel for some time and had been planning to offer Mr. Goodwin a sum to sell it to me. I’d like to make you that same offer.”

“Ah.” She closes her eyes and chuckles mirthlessly for a brief moment. “I’m afraid I can’t take that offer.”

“Have you sold to someone else?”

“No, but I’m not in a position to sell. My husband leased this land and I have every reason to doubt he ever made good on the rent. He drank most of the money and gambled what was left of that.”

“I see.”

“I’m just biding my time now until the bank comes to collect and turn me out.”

“Do you have people back...wherever it is that you're from?”

“Virginia.”

“It’s not but a few days ride to Fort Worth, I could send a wire to someone for you.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course.”

“No.” She shakes her head slowly and sighs. “There’s no one back home, but thank you.”

He shifts his feet and tries to speak, but he says nothing. He looks dumbfounded in a way that almost makes her feel sorry for him.

“Was that all?” she asks.

“Ma’am,” he stammers. “Mrs. Willis...Katherine...I can’t...I can’t…”

She doesn’t know what compels her to do it, but she reaches out and puts her hand over his where it grips the brim of his hat. He falls silent and stops his fidgeting. She squeezes his hand lightly and lets her fingers rest against his wrist for a few moments before she takes it away.

“Since you seem familiar with the bank man,” she says. “I’m sure you’ll get your wish soon enough.”

“But…”

“Good day to you, Mr. Mulder. Thank you for coming.”

#i wrote this #broken things #chapter 1 #AU #MSR

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Livestreams

A/n: I've been dying to use this gif omg this is was such a cute request sry its a little short!

Requested by: @chubsluda

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Dating as two idols can be a difficult thing. Thankfully, coming out to the public went well for you and Hyunjin. The next step is talking to fans. Will it go well or will the public’s view of the both of you change forever?

Genre: idol!reader, romance, fluff

♫

The marketing team for my group was droning on about costs and values for the past two hours. While I usually loved any part of my job that dealt with fans, two hours of talk about money was a little boring for anyone, including the rest of my group. My best friend and the visual of our group, Minji, glanced over at me and made a silly face while the instructor’s back was turned.

Ding

My hands scrambled for my phone which I had forgotten to silence. Our leader, Sera, sent me a look before turning back to the meeting. Turning off the sound, I opened my messages to see a text from my boyfriend. I smiled looking at Hyunjin’s name. My finger swiped across the screen and opened up the message.

Hey, gorgeous!

Doing a live in the dance room

Wanna join me <3

Tapping out a quick response I glanced up from my phone and to the PowerPoint that was being shown. Looking around the table I saw half of the girls around me were glancing down at their laps to, making me giggle.

In a meeting. Almost done. I’ll come meet you in a minute <3

The message zipped off and I flipped my phone over on my lap, turning my attention back to the front. A buzz on my lap brought my attention back to my phone. A smile fought its way onto my face seeing Hyunjin sent a selfie and a heart emoji.

“Thank you girls for your time!” The meeting came to an end and our manager checked in with us. After another five minutes, we were released to do our own things. Most of the girls went back to the dorms, instead, I chose to go upstairs to the room Stray Kids often used for practice.

Music floated into the hallway. I stopped just outside the door to see Hyunjin dancing to NCT’s new song. My teeth dragged across my lip watching him dance. My stare couldn’t help but follow the lines his body created.

All I could think was, “I’m so lucky.”

Wrapping my hands around the doorknob, I pushed it open and peeked my head inside. “Helloooo,” I sang. Hyunjin turned around and ran to me, picking me up and spinning me around. After he pulled away, Hyunjin dragged me over to where is live stream set up was and sat me on the floor next to him.

“STAY, this is my girlfriend, Y/n. Isn’t she gorgeous?” He said kissing my cheek. on instinct, I covered my face and laughed. His long fingers came to my wrist, pulling my hands away. “You may know her from 7SOUL, the girl group.” He nudged my shoulder and I waved to the camera.

“Hello, I am Y/n, 7SOUL’s vocal sunshine!”

Hyunjin mimicked a heart attack and fell back on the floor. “AHHH TOO CUTE!” I laughed, pulling Hyunjin back up, his head burying itself in my shoulder. His hand lazily reached for his phone, which had the live stream playing. “Why don’t we read the comments and answer some questions?” Hyunjin said, voice partially muffled by my hair.

He handed me his phone and let me scroll through comments. Most of it was just fans gushing about how cute Hyunjin was with me. He did look completely content just sitting with his head on my shoulder and holding my hand. “How long have you two been dating?” The comment was the first question I saw.

This made Hyunjin sit straight up. “Okay. She says we’ve been dating for six months. I say we’ve been dating for seven.” He was very passionate about this subject.

“Jinnie, you leaving takeout in front of my dorm with cute notes and then running away does not count as dating.”

“I paid for dinner! It counts!” He exclaimed, pulling me into his lap, exasperated. “Okay, next question.” He hugged my stomach from behind and watched the comments pop up on his phone. “Ooo. That one.” He said seeing a particular question.

“What is your favorite thing to do as a couple?” There were so many things I loved to do with Hyunjin. One of my favorites was taking naps with him and Kkami on days off. But, that probably wasn’t exciting enough to say. “Hmm...I like going shopping with you.” He smiled and listened to me talk. “Hyunjin is the best to go shopping with. And we always go out to eat at the best places after.”

Hyunjin nodded and took the phone from me. His brows furrowed together in thought when I asked him the same question. “Umm....This.” Confidently he leaned in and kissed my lips. Hyunjin had no shame whatsoever. He grinned seeing my cheeks flush.

The comments went crazy and I could only imagine the screenshots that were going to be posted later today. Hyunjin and I answered more questions and talked with his fans. “Do you plan on moving in together?” A fan asked through the comment section. I shrugged and looked to Hyunjin for the answer. We had certainly talked about it, but there were no plans being made.

“Actually I just bought an apartment and I was going to ask Y/n to move in with me.” My eyes went wide and I turned around to look at him. He shrugged and gave me an innocent smile, bits of blonde hair falling in front of his eys. “What?” Hyunjin poked my side and I glanced at the camera which was still live.

So this was his plan all along. Get me on his live stream in front of his fans so I couldn’t say ‘no’. “Is Kkami coming with us?” Hyunjin scoffed and rolled his eyes with a smile

“Duh. Of course.”

A knock echoed the room and a loud voice entered. “WHAT’S UP, LOVEBIRDS?” Jisung screamed tackling Hyunjin. Jinnie pushed him off with a smile and Jisung waved to the camera, pulling down his mask. His friend turned to me. “So, did he ask you yet?”

Hyunjin hid his face in my shoulder. “Yes, he did.”

“Finally. Now we can kick his ass out of the dorm.” I laughed and ran my hand through Hyunjin’s soft blonde hair as he hid from embarrassment. After a few more minutes of talking with Jisung and all three of us dancing to some girl group songs, we ended the live stream and Jisung left us to go back to their dorm.

“I can’t believe you.”

Hyunjin shrugged and kissed my hand. “Was it not cute?” He draped an arm over my shoulder and we walked out the back of the building to his car. Like a gentleman, he opened the door for me before running around to the driver’s seat.

“What would you have done if I said no?” He shrugged and started the car. Hyunjin was impossible sometimes, but I couldn’t help the smile that spread on my face. “I’m excited to see it.” I let my hand lace with his as we came to a stoplight.

“You wanna see it? I have the keys with me.”

Excitedly I nodded and Hyunjin drove to the apartment. We spent the rest of the night eating take out on the floor of our new apartment and watching little videos fans had already posted of us. I had to admit, I was one lucky girl.

♫

Requests are open! Just send an ask!

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388 notes · View notes

woah-were-halfway-there · 4 years

Note

Are you able to write a little something about dad Auston again?? It can be short. A day with him and just baby Mia and she’s like 3 weeks old, I know a throwback! He’s just all by himself at home with her cause y/n has so many errands Auston is off that day. He’s just their at home with her and it’s like fluff🥺 maybe he’s a bit nervous at first. When she sleeps that day she always on his chest. Their evening walk she’s strap on him. He really hiding his and Mia disguise well. Please if u can❤️

A/N: wow I really am incapable of writing something small, huh? Anyways, here you are my dear!

Word Count: 4.3k

"Ok, um, there's bottles ready in the fridge for when she gets hungry, you just have to warm them up. Oh, and her blanket is over on the couch, I think. Or is it in the nursery?"

Auston stood leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and living room, holding Mia as she slept, with an amused smirk on his lips as he watched you anxiously pace around the condo. It was your first time leaving Mia since she had been born. She was a little over three weeks old, and there was still a lot of adjusting that you and Auston were getting used to as new parents.

With Auston's career, he was required to not be at home quite often because of away games. There were a few consecutive days that the two of you were able to stay at home together, just after Mia was born, but soon enough, he did have to leave. It wasn't easy, but it was something you both had to accept.

You were nervous about your first time home alone with Mia, but with the help of Auston's family and Steph, you quickly adapted to it. But now it was Auston's turn, and it was all his fault too.

He insisted that you needed a day to yourself. Although he knew you had no issue being with Mia as much as you were, he wanted you to have some time to just do whatever and not have to worry about anything else. So, as a giveback for all that you've done when it came to your daughter when he couldn't be there, he decided to book you a nail appointment that was entirely on him. It was something so simple yet meaningful because he knew how much you loved getting your nails done, but you just hadn't had the time to since Mia was born. It worked too because he made the appointment for a day that he would be in Toronto on a home game stretch, so there was no reason for you to oppose the idea.

But then it turned into so much more.

Steph heard about Auston's plan for your day out and wanted in on it. So, she made plans for the two of you to go shopping and made reservations for a late lunch together. Again, you weren't opposed to a day out with one of your best friends either, immediately thinking of how much Steph seemingly loved spending time with you and your daughter over the past few weeks, but then you remembered one thing; Mia wouldn't be there. And that made you a little uneasy.

Although you knew your fiancé was fully capable of taking care of your daughter, he had yet to do it on his own. He was looking forward to seeing what it'd be like. You, however, were an anxious mess.

You did really well in hiding how stressed the whole ordeal was making you, but Auston knew. He was going to mention it, but he figured you knew that leaving Mia at home with him was bound to happen at some point, and yet, you still worried.

"Am I forgetting something? Why do I feel like I'm forgetting something?" You asked as you came to a sudden halt and ran a hand through your hair.

"Babe," Auston spoke up, hoping to get your attention and tell you there's no reason to stress, but should've known better.

"I don't think I am," you continued and moved to walk through the condo once again.

"Baby."

"You know, I could just cancel the appointment and go out with Steph another day, yeah that's fine."

"Y/N!" He finally said, loud enough to make you jump at his sudden outburst and look to him with wide eyes. Mia shifted in his arms, letting out a small noise as she briefly opened her eyes before closing them again and falling back asleep. The two of you watched her like hawks, hoping she wouldn't start fussing, and once you both realized she wasn't going to, you looked at each other again. "You need to stop stressing yourself out. You're only going out for a few hours. I can handle this."

"But Auston," you sighed. "What if she needs me, or something happens or-."

"Do you not trust me with our daughter?" He challenged, not seriously, but knowing that'd bring you back to your senses a little bit.

"Of course I do, you know that. I'm just… worried. Extremely worried."

"You have no reason to be," he replied softly and glanced down at Mia as she snuggled closer to him, a small smile dancing on his lips as she did so. "I must say, we have a pretty chill kid, you know? Doesn't stress much, just likes to eat and sleep."

"Clearly, she gets that from you."

"Funny."

You then sent him a knowing look and chuckling, before looking towards Mia and taking in how content she seemed in her dad's arms. "Do you promise to call me if anything happens?"

"Yes, you know I will," he reasoned with you. "Can even send you the updates if you really want."

"Please! Or else I may lose my mind," you told him as he stepped closer and wrapped an arm around your waist.

"You got it," he said before leaning down to peck your lips while being mindful of the sleeping infant in his other arm. "Now, you need to go. Your appointment is in 20 minutes."

"Ok, fine," you huffed and moved from his hold to go put on your coat and boots. Once you were done, you looked back to your fiancé and daughter and couldn't help but pout a little bit, but then Auston raised his eyebrows at you as if to ask what you were still doing there. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm overreacting."

"You? Overreact? Never," he teased, while you rolled your eyes.

"Whatever, ok, I'm going," you responded and walked to the door. "I don't think I missed anything. Say bye to Frank for me. I also can't remember where I put Mia's blanket for the life of me."

"It's in our room," Auston told you with a laugh. "I washed it last night, now stop worrying and go have fun."

"Ok, I love you."

"Love you too."

~*~

"Would you stop looking at your phone," Steph tsked and glared at you. She was sitting across from you as you both waited for your food to arrive after a long day of shopping and some much-needed girl time. It was because of her you hadn't called Auston every half an hour to check-in, even though you felt very inclined to do so. "I'm sure Mia is fine, Y/N."

"Oh, I'm sure she is too, but it's her father that is stressing me out," you replied and turned your phone around and started tapping so that she could see what was on the screen as well. Wondering what could possibly be going on, Steph gave you a look before glancing at the device and watching, soon having to stifle her laughter before it got too loud.

You had Instagram open, and one of the first things you noticed was that Auston posted on his story. Naturally, you were curious and wasted no time tapping on his little profile picture to see what it was.

The first picture was of Mia asleep on your fiancè's chest as he very clearly was lying on the couch. Frank was in it too, curled up by Auston's feet and the words' dad duty' were typed out in small blue font near the top left corner, making you melt a little bit at just how sweet it was. With the way Mia's face couldn't really be seen, you could tell she was snuggling up against her dad like she always did, and Auston being, well, Auston, had gone out of his way to not show her too much either. He was very private and protective in general, but once your daughter was born, it got escalated. He was even more careful about the things he posted, especially when they came to her.

In fact, it wasn't until the next parts of his story that you realized this was the first Mia related thing he's shared on social media other than a picture he posted of him holding her in the hospital just hours after she was born.

The next slide was a video of Mia stirring awake and stretching all while Auston's left hand was placed on her back protectively before cutting just as she was about to look towards the camera. It was ridiculously cute, but then you noticed how the following video had the green bar at the top of the screen, indicating it was shared for his 'close friends.' It was not as wholesome as what was posted before.

Instead of another cute snap of Auston and Mia having some sweet dad and daughter time, the video was of Auston standing in front of the full-length mirror that was hung on the wall near the condo's front door while holding your daughter. Mia was still leaning against his chest, but this time wide awake with her mouth open, curious about what was going on as she looked up at her dad while he chuckled and zoomed in on the reflection until a filter made both of their faces look all wonky.

That went on for three more slides, and you couldn't help but feel bad for Mia as she had to put up with Auston's antics.

"Please, at least he looks like he's having fun," Steph insisted as the story disappeared, and you brought your phone close again. "Mia seems pretty content too."

"He's turning my daughter into a meme, Steph."

"Like you're any better! Weren't you the one that was curious about how well trying to get Mia to ride on Frank's back when she's older would go over?"

"It was a joke!" You exclaimed and looked at her with wide eyes. "Now, please don't repeat that. Auston doesn't need any more ideas."

Steph just laughed again.

"You can't tell me you haven't thought about putting a Snapchat or Instagram filter on her."

"Whatever," you grumbled before looking away and smiling at the waitress as she set your food down. "Leave it to you to call me out on stuff like that even when I'm not the one doing it."

"Oh, you know I'm teasing," she replied with a smile and shook her head.

"I know, I'm just giving you a hard time."

"Yeah, yeah, that, and you just really miss them, don't you?" Steph asked, watching as you nodded.

"I do," you told her honestly. "I haven't been away from Mia at all since she was born, right, and I don't know. I feel like I've become as reliant on her as she has on me and it's not that I'm worried something bad is going to happen when she's with Auston, he is so, so great with her, I'm just worried she's going to need me and I won't be there. I'd feel like a terrible mother. But I guess me leaving her alone with her dad was bound to happen at some point, right?"

"Yes, it was, but Y/N quit being so hard on yourself," your best friend said firmly. "You are an amazing mother, and no one thinks otherwise. You're also still very new to this whole parenting thing, so is Auston, but even with how hard I can imagine it must be with him not being there all the time, I still think the two of you are doing a damn good job. Mia is lucky to have such great parents, oh, and Frank too. Can't forget about your firstborn."

"Never," you laughed, before smiling at her thankfully. "Man, you really know how to not let me get stuck in my thoughts and sass me when I need it."

"You do the same for me, hun," Steph smiled back. "It's what friends are for."

"Very true, but do know that I appreciate it. Auston and I wouldn't be able to do as well as we are if we didn't have our friends like you and Mitch, or our families keeping us sane. So, thank you."

"Stop, I haven't been on the brink of tears like this since I first met Mia," she whined, but you knew she meant it lovingly. "Now I'm feeling all mushy."

"You and me both," you told her then glanced down at your food. "Steph, would you be mad if I headed home after this? I really do miss my family, and I know it hasn't been that long but-."

"You don't need to justify yourself, babe, of course, I'm not going to be mad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she stated. "Mitch is going to bring Zeus down here when he comes to pick me up, and we're going to take him for a walk, it's been a while since he's roamed downtown streets. Would you mind if we stopped by to visit Mia for a little bit before going home too?"

"I wouldn't mind at all."

~*~

Back at the condo, Auston was having an interesting time.

He would've been lying if he said he wasn't a little bit nervous about being left alone with his daughter for the first time, and the moment you walked out the door, that feeling escalated. But, he refused to let you know that he was stressed because he didn't want to ruin your day. So, he sucked it up and mentally prepared himself for what was to come.

The first hour or so was easy enough. Mia was fast asleep lying on Auston's chest as he was stretched across the couch, thinking of how he had everything under control and nothing to worry about. He even, after a lot of consideration, decided to post a picture of his sleeping baby on Instagram, followed by another video just as she was waking up.

But what wasn't shown in that video, was the panic he felt.

It wasn't the first time he had dealt with a fussy Mia just after she woke up, and surely wouldn't be the last, but he couldn't keep himself from thinking of how sometimes she would simply just want her mom.

At just a month old, you were convinced Mia was a true daddy's girl with how cuddly and content she became whenever Auston held her, but there were still times that even he wasn't enough for her to relax after getting worked up. It was clear that Mia found comfort in both of her parents, but there was the odd time she would need you to cuddle or hum her back to sleep regardless of how hard Auston tried. He was afraid then was going to be one of those times.

Although Mia loved being around Auston, which he knew, he couldn't get over how easily you were able to soothe her. It was like you had a magic touch or something, and he didn't know how well Mia would take to you not being there once she woke up.

However, it ended up not being as bad as he was expecting.

Once Mia woke up, she was rather fussy, and Auston could feel himself gradually getting more anxious because of it. She didn't want her bottle, didn't need a diaper change; nothing seemed to be going right. In a spur of the moment, with not being sure what else to do, he lifted her up from where she was laying and held her close. He supported her head as she leaned against his shoulder and started swaying them back and forth, whispering soothing words of how much he loved her and how everything was going to be ok.

She eventually stopped wailing but was still crying, and Auston felt terrible. Even Frank stayed nearby, keeping close tabs on what was going on, but still, nothing worked. Auston was on the verge of calling you, or even his mother, by that point, even though he didn't want to, but then he remembered something. Music.

He remembered you telling him on multiple Facetime calls while he was away playing hockey how if Mia woke up unhappy and just wouldn't stop crying, you would sing to her or just put on music, and she would eventually calm down. Auston had seen it for himself a few times, too and cursed himself for not thinking of it earlier.

Without a second thought, he grabbed a remote off the coffee table and turned on the stereo. Edwin McCain's I'll Be started softly playing from the speakers, and Mia almost instantly reacted. Her cries turned into sniffles and eventually faded into complete silence as Auston rubbed soft circles on her back and hummed along to the tune. She became so quiet that by the end of the song, Auston was positive she had fallen back asleep, but when he looked down at her, she looked up to him with wide eyes and let out a happy squeal.

It took a lot in Auston to not melt right then and there over how much he loved his daughter. He was so glad she was content with him and decided to keep the music on as he continued swaying and singing while Champagne Supernova by Oasis began playing next. It was a dramatic performance, that's for sure, but Mia seemingly loved it for she didn't get upset again and just stared up at her dad in awe for the entire seven and a half minutes of the song.

After that, Auston kept the stereo on as he continued holding Mia and moved into the kitchen so he could grab something to eat. Once he was done, he went back to the living room and set Mia on her blanket next to Frank while trying to figure out what to do next. He was about to put on Netflix when his phone sounded with a new notification from Snapchat. It ended up being a video from his sister Breyana zooming in on his older sister Alex as she sat across the room. Once Alex looked directly at the camera, a filter that made her eyes and mouth become huge became visible, and then the video ended with a high pitched version of Bre's laugh sounding from behind the phone.

Shaking his head and chuckling at the two, Auston then opened the camera part of his Snapchat to send back a video of himself with the same filter. Once he started recording, he was about to say something but then decided against it as he swapped the camera to show Mia laying on her blanket, but now with the filter on her face as Auston continued zooming in. Without even watching the video, he saved it and sent it back to Bre before sitting on the floor next to Mia and showing her one of her stuffed animals.

A few minutes later, he got a text.

Bre

Please tell me you kept that video, I can't stop laughing.

Surely it wasn't that funny, Auston thought, but when he unlocked his phone again and actually watched the video, he too couldn't stop laughing and decided to take more videos and pictures just like it. He was quick to discover which filters he liked best and some of the clips were just too good that he couldn't not share it with anyone else, so he posted them to his close friends Instagram story for others to enjoy as well.

Auston was well aware that you would see the things he posted too, and couldn't help but laugh as he imagined what you'd say about them once you were home.

Mia eventually grew hungry, so Auston gave her some of her bottle before they mindlessly wandered back to the living room and attempted to kill time.

After another hour of him just laying on the ground next to his daughter, making random noises and expressions went by, Auston eventually grew bored and decided that he, Mia and Frank deserved some fresh air and wanted to go for a walk. He still hadn't heard from you, so he assumed that Steph somehow managed to get you to keep your cool while you were out and figured you'd still be gone for a little while longer. He didn't bother texting you to let you know they were going out, just got himself and Mia all bundled up to face Toronto's cold, February air and went on his way.

The nice thing about winter in Toronto was that a lot of clothing was needed. If you weren't bundled up, you'd feel like you were freezing, and it always gave Auston an excuse to look unrecognizable as he roamed the streets. It was great.

This time was no exception, either. Auston put on his winter coat, boots, hat, and a scarf covering most of his face before looking down at Mia, who was almost unrecognizable. She was snuggled in her stroller, wearing a very warm and fuzzy onesie, and covered with multiple blankets because Auston would never forgive himself if she got cold.

It was obvious she was content, though, because, after only about five minutes of being outside, she was starting to fall asleep again.

The sun was beginning to set as a soft coat of snow fell from the sky. Although it was cold, it was nice, and Auston was glad he decided to leave the condo rather than staying cooped up in it for the entire day. Frank seemed thankful too as he tried to bite at the falling snowflakes as the three of them walked down the street.

They soon came to one of the nearby off-leash dog parks, and Auston decided to let Frank roam around in the fenced area for a little bit. Once he let the Goldendoodle off his leash, Auston looked down to see Mia wide awake again and looking up at him. She wasn't fussing again, which Auston was thankful for, but she was moving lots and making noises, so he took that as her wanting to be held.

By the way, she cuddled up against him, it was apparent that's exactly what she wanted, and he couldn't help but smile because of it. He held her close as he glanced around to locate Frank, who was on the other side of the park playing with a chocolate lab, before reaching down to grab Mia's blanket so that he could bundle her up again.

The next time Auston looked for Frank, he noticed a woman crouched down petting the pup. Her back was to him as she rubbed the back of Frank's ears and the chocolate lab from moments prior, walked around nearby; making sure to rub against the woman for some attention as well. He stepped closer to them, ready to call Frank back over so he wouldn't be a nuisance, but then the lab bolted towards him excitedly.

"Woah, hey buddy," Auston said as he leaned down to pet the dog, being mindful of Mia in the process and then noticing the dog's name tag. "Zeus?"

By the way, the dog responded to his name, Auston immediately assumed this was the Zeus he thought it was and started looking around from Mitch. But then, someone spoke up from behind him.

"You know, if it wasn't for Mia's blanket, I don't think I would have recognized you," the voice said, making Auston turn around only to become face to face with you. "Well, Frank was a dead giveaway too, but you're really feeling the whole incognito thing today, huh?"

"Hey," was all he said as a smile grew across his lips. "What are you doing here? How was your day?"

"It was good," you told him. "Mitch picked Steph and me up with Zeus and were all going to come back to the condo, but decided to stop here first to let Zeusy run around a bit. I can honestly say I wasn't expecting Frank to run up to me out of nowhere."

"I'm not even surprised that he did to be honest.."

At that, you smiled.

"Me neither," you chuckled, as Auston wrapped his free arm around your waist and pulled you into his embrace. You accepted the gesture and melted into his touch a little bit before looking down at Mia. "How was today?"

"A lot smoother than I was expecting," he replied honestly. "Got a little worried at one point, but we managed."

"Good. I'm sad I wasn't needed, but I am also really glad things were ok."

"You're always needed and wanted, babe, you have no reason to think otherwise."

"I know," you responded and leaned against his shoulder as you looked down at your daughter asleep in her father's arms. "We're doing alright at this whole parenting thing, aren't we?"

"I'd say so," he said before pecking the top of your head. "It's a challenge, that's for sure, but I'm glad to be experiencing it with you."

If you weren't already feeling mushy from your talk with Steph earlier, you definitely were then. You really did love doing life with Auston and were about to remind him of that, but then a voice spoke up from nearby.

"Is that my favourite Matthews?" Mitch asked as he and Step approached, Steph rolling her eyes at the comment. "Lemme see her."

"She's sleeping right now, but once we get back at the condo, she's all yours," you told him, knowing how much both he and Steph adored your daughter.

"If you're careful," Steph stressed. "We don't need you almost dropping her again."

"That was one time!" Mitch argued, making you all laugh.

"You're lucky you redeemed yourself," Auston teased before looking back at you. "What do you say we get Frank and Zeus and head back?"

"Sounds good to me," you replied, feeling all warm on the inside as you went on to spend the rest of the night with your little family and best friends.

#auston matthews imagines #auston matthews fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl headcanon #hockey fanfiction #hockey rpf #toronto maple leafs imagine #auston matthews imagine #nhl imagines #nhl rpf

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savannahsdrabbles · 3 years

Text

Ocean Song - Part 10/11

Rating: PG

notes: 2.9k words. A03 link can be found here. I can’t believe I’m almost done with this fic! <3 Big thanks again to my beta-readers, @starfiretheninja and @rusty-wayfarer.

ALSO! I posted character references of the boys here, and @bakedbananners over on Twitter drew them! <33 I may or may not have cried. <3 OK! Now on with the fic! :D

***

“Ay-puh-ril, nicetumeetchu Dawn-ee, Cay-see. I Don-ee, Cay-see, Ahpril nicetumeetchu,” the turtle hummed softly under his breath, still rolling the words over and over in his mouth. He squinted, brown eyes straining to focus in the dim light as he used a claw to trace abstract patterns in the dirt. It had been at least thirty minutes since Casey’s departure, and with their main light source being the soft glow from April’s phone, the two unlikely comrades had settled into a quiet reverie beneath the pine trees. “Don Dun Dunntello Don Dondon Dawn-ee… April?”

“Yes, Donnie?” April glanced down at her phone for what felt like the hundredth time, her teeth working impatiently on her already cracked and sore lower lip. When the screen only blinked back a warning of low battery, she tucked the device into her pocket and drew her knees to her chest. It was getting chilly out – hopefully Casey was doing okay without his hoodie.

“Cay-see go?”

“Mh-hm. Remember? Casey went to rent a boat, and then you’re going to guide us so that we can take you home.” She cast her eyes sideways, watching as Donnie furrowed his brow and bobbed his head to show he was listening. “Right now we’re just waiting until he texts and says that the boat is ready.”

“Tehks?”

“Yup,” April tapped the phone-shaped outlined in her pocket, then bit her lip and mumbled a silent prayer that he didn’t ask for a further explanation of technology and digital communication – she’d had a difficult enough time explaining that to her grandparents. “Until then, we’ve just got to wait here.”

The turtle tilted his head and squinted at her pocket for a long moment, his expression clearly saying that he had more questions, but finally nodded and turned back to his doodles. “Bōto o matsu.”

April blinked.

Bōto o… wait for boat? Okay, so not only had he understood, but he understood enough to respond in another language. Cool, cool, okay.

She brought a hand to the bridge of her nose and squeezed, trying to ignore the migraine that had been building behind her eyes over the past few hours. How in the …? She knew he’d used a few Japanese phrases when they had first spoken in the lab, and logically she knew that living in Japan that would be the language he was most exposed to – but in the same vein, none of this made any logical sense. What kind of person could imagine a multilingual, anthropomorphic mutant turtle, accept that as fact, and then continue about their day?

Before her brain could wander any farther down that trail of thought– what next? Aliens? Superheroes? - April felt her phone buzz and heaved a grateful sigh of relief. “That should be Casey – time to get moving!”

The turtle perked up, his head swiveling like a periscope to search the surrounding shadows. “Where-?”

His question was cut off as April surged to her feet, her hands carefully grasping and guiding him upwards alongside her. The turtle yelped in surprise and grabbed for handfuls of her top once upright, wobbling slightly as he tried to balance himself.

“Here – Casey’s hoodie is going to help keep you covered, okay?” April reached down to grab the jacket from the ground, bundled it up in her hands and then gestured for the turtle to raise his arms. He did so reluctantly, then yelped once more as she quickly pulled the material over his head and began to guide his arms through the fabric. “There likely won’t be too many people out at the marina on a school night, but we want to make sure we don’t draw any extra attention – plus there’s plenty of security cameras out there and it’ll be impossible to completely avoid those.”

“Mmmf!” Was Donnie’s only response, his arms starting to pinwheel frantically before April caught hold of them. A stretch of the hoodie’s neckline had gotten caught on the turtle’s snout, partially obscuring his eyes and totally covering his mouth. April adjusted the fabric with a chuckle, freeing the creature from his polyester prison, and then took a step back to examine her work.

Even compared to her relatively average five and a half feet, Donatello was short – if she had to guess, he probably wasn’t any taller than four foot ten. Considering that the hoodie he now wore was made to fit Casey’s nearly six foot self, it was hard not to see the turtle as a toddler playing dress up in his parents’ clothing. The way that the fabric hung and draped over his body made him look even smaller, if that were possible; should he sit down, he might get lost amongst the apparel. Were it not for the glinting metal collar around his neck and the look of growing discomfort on his face, April would have thought he looked ready to curl up in bed.

“Hmmm,” Donnie hummed pensively, clearly not feeling the comfort that April was perceiving. The turtle gave his fabric-obscured hands a hard shake, eyes wide and increasingly nervous noises emanating from his mouth as he rapidly rotated his limbs in search of his missing appendages.

April giggled and started to step forward to help him roll up the sleeves, but then held back when a quiet voice in her mind chided. Let’s see if he can figure this out.

Donnie glanced up with a piteous whine, looking as if he had her thoughts and realized she wasn’t coming to his rescue, then hesitated. April could almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he stared at her rolled sleeves and free hands, then turned back to his own predicament. After a brief moment of thought and one more comparative look, the turtle raised an arm to his mouth and bit down on the sleeve, then gently tugged until his hand slowly slipped free.

“Hoo-dee!” he chirped triumphantly, holding up his free hand and waving it in delight.

“Right, you’re wearing a hoodie!” April grinned, then reached around the turtle to guide the hood over the back of his head. He didn’t seem to mind now, attention already turning back to the process of freeing his second hand. “We’d better keep the hood up for now, but look at us! Just two normal teens on the beach!”

The turtle’s eyes lit up at her last word. He dropped his sleeve in surprise, then turned to point a claw in the direction Casey had disappeared. “Beach!”

“Yup! Now let’s get you home!”

***

Donnie’s heart pounded as he stumbled along behind April, her warm hand holding him steady as the ground beneath them slowly transitioned from poky greens to the tan, shifting sands he knew so well. He’d been able to hear the ocean for a while now, but the moment they pushed through the last bushes and stepped out onto the beach - suddenly everything felt real. The cool, moist air, the promise of water and food and Home and his family – he was so close!

With every step towards the illuminated Human structures in the distance, he felt the urge building in his system – the desire to break loose from April’s gentle guidance and take off running towards the ocean. A familiar tugging sensation pulled incessantly at the back of his mind, calling out in the voices of Father and his brothers.

“This way, Clever, this way! Almost there! Almost Home!”

Their voices were like a siren’s song, beckoning him closer and closer with promises of healing and reassurances that he would soon be safe in their arms.

A breathless half-sob caught in his throat, and he swallowed thickly before trilling in response, his voice echoing out across the beach. “Wait for me; I’m coming! I’ll be Home soon!”

No sooner had the call left his mouth when April shook his hand gently, calling his attention back to the situation before them. He sighed and slowly drug his eyes away from the shore. As much as he wanted to release April’s hand and take off running… something told him that he needed to wait and stay with the two Humans. They had gotten him this far, and if the danger was imminent enough that he and Brothers were going to have to relocate…

“It looks like there’s a few people out on the marina, but I think we’re good,” April spoke in a low voice as she gestured towards the fast-approaching structures with her free hand. Two rows of buildings stood tall amongst the rolling dunes, serving as a departure from the otherwise untouched beach. Sand made way for a long wooden platform that served as the buildings’ foundations and stretched almost a mile out into the ocean. “My dad brought me down to the pier a few times when we first moved to Osaka - it’s pretty fun during the daytime. There’s a few shops and restaurants out on the board walk, and during the summer they host a carnival.”

Donnie nodded absently, his focus already drifting back out across the ocean. “Casey?”

“We’re almost to him. His text said that he was under the –”

A long, shrill whistle suddenly cut through the air, followed by a loud ‘YO!’ that snapped Donnie back to attention. He startled slightly, the sharp movement shaking the hood from his head and sending it sliding down his shoulders.

April heaved a sigh.

“And that would be the Master of Subtlety himself.” Even without looking, Donnie could imagine the way that the girl’s eyes were rolling and her shoulders slouching. He’d seen that exasperated look – and worn it – whenever his brothers did something foolish. With a sigh and a tug on his hand, April headed towards a shadow-y area tucked under the edge of the pier. “Come on.”

The turtle nodded obediently, his pace quickening and heart fluttering they moved closer towards the shoreline.

***

“You know, the point of texting was supposed to be that we kept quiet,” April called out as they approached the pier. She squinted, searching the shadows until they slowly began to give way to separate, more distinct shapes. “You could have at least waited until we got closer before you let the whole beach know where you were.”

“I wanted to make sure that you guys found me,” Casey replied, his voice already sounding smug– clearly a sign that he was up to something. There was a soft grunt as he pushed against one of the pier’s support beams, and then he and the boat slid out of the shadows.

April opened her mouth, hesitated, and then closed her eyes. The headache from earlier was returning. “Casey – what in the world is that?”

“Oh, you mean this beauty?” the teenage boy patted the side of the boat, an impish grin on his face, and then threw out his arms as the tiny, rust-ridden vehicle slowly began to tip towards the right. He flailed wildly for a moment, water splashing as the boat continued to rock from side to side, then finally froze with arms outstretched in a T-pose. “Er – she’ll be much more steady once you guys get in and help distribute the weight.”

“Mh-hm.” April cocked an eyebrow. “I can deal with unsteady; I’m more concerned about getting tetanus, or that thing sinking the second I put one foot in.”

“Yeah, well apparently it’s pretty expensive to rent a nice boat to go ‘somewhere in the ocean’ and come back ‘at some point’,” Casey stuck his tongue out, but kept his arms outstretched. “The shop owner guy looked like he wanted to kick me out more than anything, but I managed to make a deal with him. Apparently they were planning to send this boat to the scrap yard tomorrow morning, so the Jonesman – that’s me - offered to take it off of their hands and save them a trip.” Casey moved to fold his arms across his chest, but then threw them out once more as the boat rolled beneath him. “I was – oh boy, one sec – thinking of naming it the O’Neilmobile, but with that attitude I just might have to reconsider.”

“How will I ever deal with such a loss?”

“I guess Jonesmobile: The Squeakquel will have to do.”

“Casey.”

“It’s Captain Casey now.”

“I’m not calling you that– do you think that thing will stay afloat with all of us? Maybe we should rethink our plans –”

Suddenly and without warning, Donatello dropped April’s hand and surged forward.

“Don-?”

The turtle stumbled heavily as he cleared last few feet of sand, clearly too frantic to think out his steps, but the moment his claws touched foam something seemed to click inside.

“Water – look! Water-water-home!” Breathless words and excited sounds spilled from his lips like a pot bubbling over, coming quick and fast and soon dissolving into a symphony of hums and noises that April could only think to call laughter. He tipped his head back, eyes closed and body shaking with the sounds as he kicked and frolicked through the surf, sending salt water splashing in every direction. “Beach-water-Family-water-water-Home!”

April cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, half afraid that his mirth would attract unwanted attention, but Casey waved the thought off.

“Just… give him a minute,” he smiled, eyes following the turtle as he danced amongst the waves. “I think he needs this.”

April hesitated, but she couldn’t help the smile growing on her face, nor the relieved laugh she gave as Donnie turned towards to them. He grinned widely, eyes shimmering, and then flopped backwards into the water.

“Look! Look water!” His chest heaved as he laughed breathlessly. “Water!”

“I’m happy for you, Bud,” Casey said, nudging the edge of the pier once more so that the boat drifted closer. “We’re so close to getting you home.”

The turtle nodded and laughed again, then pushed himself up into a sitting position. Rivulets of water ran down either side of his face, congregating under his chin and then dripping down to the already soaked hoodie that now hung heavily from his shoulders. He gave a slight shake of his head, sending droplets skittering across the water’s surface, and then lifted a hand to pat his chest. “Donnie.”

Casey cocked his head, eyes sliding to April. “Donnie?”

“It’s short for Donatello,” she smiled and held out her hand towards the turtle. He stood and took it gratefully, eyes gleaming with renewed energy and more life than ever before. With a little tug, she drew him alongside her and stepped closer to the boat. “He needed a special name.”

“Kind of a hard name for someone just learning English,” Casey leaned down to grab a few items from the bottom of the boat and then shifted backwards to give them more room. “I was thinking something more along the lines of ‘Bill’ or ‘Casey Junior’.”

“Pfft - as if,” April held the edge of the boat steady as Donnie scrambled over the side, then plopped himself by Casey’s feet. When the boat didn’t immediately capsize under the weight of a second passenger, she pulled herself in and settled on the bench seat opposite Casey. Now that she was actually in the boat, tucked beside the two guys she was on this adventure with… it suddenly didn’t seem so cruddy. No, this boat was just right for what they needed. “Hey – did you get life vests?”

Casey turned to face the motor and straddled his seat, the movement causing the boat to rock dangerously. “Naw, we’ll be in the boat the whole time, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. Plus you and Donnie can swim.”

“Wait – can you not?”

“And off we go!”

The engine took a moment to roll over as Casey tugged on the pull cord, but eventually started with a loud roar that sent Donnie scrambling for safety against April’s legs. She reached down and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and then they were off! The little boat began to power forward at a steady speed – not as fast as she would have liked, but enough so that April’s hair began to tangle around her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, spitting a strand out of her mouth and suddenly wishing that she’d brought a hair tie.

“Here – take this!” Casey called over the sound of the engine. April opened one eye, then grinned when she saw what Casey offering. “Coach said I’m only allowed to keep my hair long if I pull it back during practice, so I always have extra rubber bands on hand!”

“Thanks!” April took the present gratefully and quickly pulled her hair back into a tight bun. Now that that problem was solved… “By the way – did you end up grabbing food like you mentioned?”

The boy’s eyes lit up, and he bent down to grab the objects he’d moved to make room for Donnie. “Oh, yeah! I hit up the McDonald’s on the board walk right before I went to the boat place. I asked the cashier what she suggested for my ‘pet turtle’ and she said suggested a head of lettuce. They were out of that at the moment though, so…” He passed a brown paper sack to April, and then extended a small box to the turtle. “Donnie, can you say ‘chicken nuggets?’”

“Chih nuddets.”

#savannah drabbles #sea turtles au #tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt fanfiction #april o'neil #casey jones #tmnt donnie

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sleekervae · 3 years

Text

The Neighbour [1.3]

Masterlist

A/N: I’m in a really good mood today and found the motivation to write! Super fluff ahead!!

When Eva woke up, not having remembered falling asleep, she let the light seep in behind her eyelids, floating shapes dancing in her vision before she even thought about opening her eyes again.

She was surrounded by a cloud of warmth, a thick cologne which she had grown too attached to for her own good and his hand was in her hair, tangling and untangling the curls, brushing gently as if distracted by something else, but wanting her to know he was there nonetheless.

She slowly opened her eyes, readjusting to her own living room, the memory of being on the sofa with him before she'd drifted off slowly coming back to her. She glanced down at her lap, his lap, then followed the brightness of his phone in his hand as he typed, closed and opened another app with his free hand, "Rem?"

He flinched, unaware that she'd woken because she was so peaceful, so still. "Yeah?"

"Am I your lock screen?"

Eva stared down at the picture that glowed through the oncoming dark, half confused, half endeared by the silent gesture and the meaning it held.

"Oh, shit," Remington giggled nervously, his cheeks already a flushed pink as he pulled back slightly to look at her, "You weren't supposed to see that, Eva,"

"When did you take this?" she pushed. The girl she looked at seemed so different somehow, so unaware of what was coming, but the laughter and happiness radiated off the screen and it could've only been the company she was with, the ease, the delicate carefree comfort he brought her.

Remington swallowed, "The album party..."

Eva nodded, "This was before the patio?"

"Before the patio. Still only seems like yesterday, you know?"

She smiled with endearment, "Yeah. How long has it been, a month?"

"About that, I think," he smiled back at her, the light reaching his eyes. "I only changed it the other day... now that I know that we're... together... you just looked so pretty. I know you weren't feeling too good, but you were glowing to me," He stroked his fingers through her hair lovingly again. "It's just -- my favorite picture of my favorite girl,"

Eva felt her heart leap in her chest and leant to press her lips to his without second guessing it, the familiarity of kissing him, of being able to kiss him still yet to settle as reality.

He moved his lips with hers eagerly, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, drawing her breath from her lungs effortlessly. She tasted so sweet, so addictive that he knew he'd never have enough.

"You know that picture we took in the bathroom last week?" she whispered against his lips.

"Yeah,"

"We should take more like that. I don't take a lot of pictures of myself, but I'd like more of us,"

"I'd like that, Eva... I'd like that very much,"

The clicking of spokes echoed through the tunnel, the lights above flickering over the girls' heads as they whizzed towards the light at the opening. Eva and Shy were neck and neck as they pedalled on their bikes, giggling and urging the other to hurry so they could beat the guys as they closely followed one their skateboards. Of course, they were proudly repping the new skateboard that would soon be out on the merch market.

"C'mon! C'mon! They're right behind us!"

Eva was unsure how a competition between the bike and skateboard arose, but she was too caught up in the thrill to care. She gripped the leather-worn handles of her yellow bike tightly, flying out of the street tunnel beside Shy. Pepper and Pluto sat in their baskets at the handlebars, too enthralled with the wind whipping over their faces to care about each other.

Remington had to wonder to himself why he didn't just take his car to the park; his own ego assuring him that he and Emerson could totally beat the girls there. Maybe if he was on a bike, then he may have had a chance. The skateboard was utterly useless in this situation as the girls became smaller and smaller in the distance.

"Hurry the fuck up, Emerson!"

"The boards aren't motorized!"

The girls came to the park quickly after, dismounting and coming to stop under a shady tree. Shy put Pepper down in the long grass and she immediately went bounding around, excited to explore and sniff all the new smells. Pluto took a look around the open park, glaring in dismay as to why he wasn't at home and decided to settle into the roots of the tree. Pepper then came trotting over to Pluto, in her excitement tumbling through the grass and rolling into Pluto. The tabby glared at the pomeranian and batted her away with his tail.

Though Eva was almost certain they were in the middle of nowhere, no other cars or people in sight for miles, she was more than happy to set up their picnic. She whipped a blanket over the grass and Shy began to pull food and drinks from her backpack. She looked out across the street, just able to get a glimpse of the guys coming their way.

"Maybe their next board should be electric," she grinned.

"And give them a fair chance?" Eva shook her head, "Where's the fun in that?"

Remington and Emerson finally made it to the open park, their legs sore and shoes scuffed from kicking at the ground over and over. They grabbed their board and jogged to meet the girls under the tree.

"Next time... we're taking the car," Remington huffed.

"It was your stupid idea to race, anyway," Emerson grumbled.

"But when I come up with a stupid idea, you can talk me out of it,"

The girls smiled coyly at the guys, "What took you so long?" Eva asked.

They sat down with the girls and took a moment to collect themselves. Surrounded by tall green grass and inhaling crisp air which made them feel distinctively far from home in the city, they were heading up to a small bank. The heat was palpable already, but the linen material of Eva's white sundress which stopped just above her knees, the hems frilly and delicate, provided a welcome breeze. She shifted to her knees as she helped Shy set up the food they brought.

Remington laid back in the grass, admiring the way the light dazzled between the gaps in the branches, then angled his face again to admire Eva, how effortlessly pretty and ethereal she looked amongst the natural landscape, "Did I mention how beautiful you look in that dress?" he muttered.

Eva lifted her head, looking down at her outfit then blushing at him, "A few times, yeah,"

"Just had to drive the point home," he grinned.

Emerson couldn't help but roll his eyes at his brother's sweet talk, "You guys are gross," he chided playfully.

"Look who's calling the kettle black," Shy chuckled, tossing a grape at the drummer. Emerson tried to catch it in his mouth but it bounced across his cheek and fell into the grass. He was quick to grab it before Pepper or Pluto could.

Remington pulled some of the drinks from his own bag, canned spiked sodas and juices. He grabbed a Nude seltzer and popped it open, unprepared for the fizz and carbonated shower that sprayed over him and the blanket briefly. The others giggled at him and Eva took a napkin to wipe some of the soda from his cheek.

"Thanks," he muttered bashfully.

The four kids shared in vegetable chips and vegan BLTs, with some fruit and two-bite brownies for their dessert. Pluto and Pepper had the opportunity to snack on some pieces of apple and banana. Eva was surprised to see her tabby not trying to start a fight with Pepper.

"You can never go wrong with brownies," she said, popping the little bite of goodness into her mouth.

Shy hummed in agreement, "I wanted to bring the whipped cream too, but I couldn't find it," she said.

Remington and Eva glanced at each other warily, wondering if they knew where the whipped cream actually went. Remington quickly cleared his throat.

"Uh -- I used the rest last weekend," he said, "We made chocolate pudding,"

"Yeah," Eva nodded quickly, "Rem's a secret gourmet,"

Emerson cocked an eyebrow, "Since when?"

"Since Eva," Remington grinned with pride.

The boys had brought out a soccer ball and decided on a quick match in the grass, with Pepper running between their legs to join in the fun. The girls had a different idea, however. Eva needed a new photograph to post along side a piece for her blog, and she asked if Shy would be willing to model. Of course, Shy was more than happy to oblige her.

They picked a small bouquet of daffodils that were growing just a few feet from the tree. The young model kneeled next to the winding roots, tossing her head back and clutching the vibrant yellow bouquet to her chest, her dark brown almond eyes staring into Eva's soul through her phone lens. Shy was easily one of the most strikingly beautiful women Eva had come across, and what made it better was her heart was practically made of gold.

"Wow," Eva breathed as she stared at the photo, "Emerson! I think I'm love with your girlfriend!" Shy bursted into giggles.

Emerson scoffed, "It's okay, I don't blame you!" he called back.

"How'd the picture turn out?" Shy asked, coming to take a look for herself, "Nice! You into photography, too?"

"It's an amateur hobby. I get most of my stuff from Pinterest," she replied.

"You ever think of modelling yourself?" she asked the young writer.

Eva shook her head quickly, blushing, "Me? Oh -- gosh, no!"

"Why not? You're fucking gorgeous. Not to mention so many girls would kill to have your naturally full lips," Shy said.

"I appreciate that. But I think I'm just more comfortable behind the camera, you know?" Eva replied.

Shy smiled and nodded, "I get it. But... if you ever change your mind, I'm expanding my business to a clothing line and I could use some cute models in the future,"

Eva blushed at the idea. Her, a model? Sure, she was confident in her body and what she wore, but she hadn't done a lot in terms of putting her actual face out into the digital media world. It might be fun, though?

"... I'll think about it,"

Sharp grass sliced at Eva's shins as she jogged through the plain, her fingers intertwined with his, the warm palm of his hand so familiar that she would have followed him anywhere. Looking up at the high tree tops, the bright blue sky and the sun peeking through, flooding their picnic spot behind them in a golden glow. Remington wasn't all too sure where he was taking her, he just wanted a minute to have Eva to himself.

The colours were vibrant, rich green tree tops, his pastel pink hair losing its sharp spike and falling over his face, complimenting his pale skin so gorgeously as he turned around while pulling her along. The melodic tone of his voice only drew her in further, she could barely keep up, her sneakers dragging on the ground as she followed Remington, kicking up tiny stones and branches.

"Where are we going?" her voice carried with the wind.

"I don't know," Remington shrugged, smiling gleefully at her, "But that's part of the fun, isn't it?"

She chuckled, "So help me God you get us lost, Remington,"

"We won't get lost," he flashed her that heart-wrenching smile that had her falling head over heels for him all over again. The way her fingers were wound around his made his skin tingle, and his breath hitched in his throat when he decided to stop, spun around and twirled her into a nearby tree, pinning her against his chest. His wild eyes flashed with excitement before he closed the space between them and pressed a deep kiss to her lips.

Her own lips parting, she moaned into his mouth, instantly desperate for more. His hands moved instinctively to hold her hips and she inhaled sharply when she felt the bark indent her skin, her arm wrapping slowly around his neck, her other hand now letting go of his to move slowly into his hair, her nails scratching lightly at the back of his neck, tugging gently on his soft pinky/brown locks as her lips moved eagerly with his.

"You dragged me out here to fuck, then?" she drawled amusedly, her voice nothing but a hint, her tone needy, already eager for more as his calloused fingertips dug into the material of her dress clinging to her hips.

"Have you seen yourself in that dress, darling?" he rasped, his lips were red, his chest flushed, eyes half-open, yet fixated on her flawless features. The glint of mischief in her eyes, the clear determination, everything about her excited him to a new level he never knew he could have, "You're something out of my dream,"

"How original," she chided, squealing briefly when he lifted her by her thighs and kissed her again. Her legs came to wrap around his torso, humming softly, only his hands on the tree keeping her off the ground. She was weak for the way his fingers stroked her skin tenderly yet held her so possessively that she knew she wouldn't have been able to pull away and deny him even if she wanted.

And his lips were on her neck in an instant, driving her wild as he licked and bit, not abashed about leaving a mark. She tilted her head back until she bumped against the tree, her stormy blue eyes slipping shut. The only thing she could feel was a cool breeze ghosting over the bare skin of her legs, his warm hands squeezing her thighs, and his chapped lips ravaging over her neck and chest like she was his final meal.

Her eyes fell open for a minute, mesmerized by the sun peaking through the treetops above, reaching them even in their spot of seclusion. The branches danced and swayed in the wind, and Eva had a brief thought slip through her mind.

"Remington," Eva gasped, pushing at his chest lightly so he'd pull away.

"Mhmm?" he looked up at her with dark, lustful eyes.

"... Can you climb this tree?" the bottom branches were low enough for him to grab a hold of, and it had dawned on her that she'd never seen him climb anything, despite how much he bragged about it.

Remington took a wistful glance at the branches, smiling easily, "Is that a question or a request?"

"Well, I've never seen you climb," she shrugged back.

"Piece of cake," he set her back on her feet, but she leaned against the tree for a moment longer so she could collect herself.

Remington took a few steps, like he was gearing up to run a track race. With Eva standing well out of the way, he took three long steps before he leapt up and grabbed the first branch. The bark on that particular spot was weak and he stumbled to the ground, "Shit!"

"Jesus!" Eva gasped, "Okay, don't do it if it's gonna' cost a trip to the ER,"

"It's okay," he assured her, rubbing his palms on his jeans to take the sting out, "Just a fluke,"

He backed up and tried again, this time gripping the branch tightly and pulling himself up. Eva stood back in awe, his forearms clenched tightly and the veins in his biceps popped, but he showed little overall effort as he maneuvered his way to sit on the branch.

"See? Piece of cake," he simpered.

Eva crossed her arms over her chest, "How's the view?"

Remington smiled down at her, "Pretty fantastic, not gonna' lie. Care to join me?"

"I would love to, but I don't possess any upper body strength, whatsoever," she said.

"That's no problem," he jumped back down and stood behind her, gripping her hips tightly "Do you trust me?"

Eva glanced at the branch warily, standing over her head at a good eight feet. Her fingertips couldn't even brush the bark if she stood on her toes. But she looked to Remington, nodding slowly. He counted down from three before he hoisted her up and Eva quickly grabbed the branch, heaving herself to sit at the spot where the branch met the trunk. Remington hopped up right after, pausing briefly as the wood made a lowly creak, but he relaxed when they were still in the air.

"Piece of cake," Eva mocked.

"Yeah, 'cause I did all the heavy lifting," he nudged her gently, "Literally,"

"I didn't ask you to lift me up here" she pouted.

"But it's more fun with you up here," he lifted his head and caught her lips in a kiss before she retort in any way, holding her in his arms and deepening their kiss.

She hummed softly, parting her lips and cupping his face into her hands, unable to pay attention to anything beyond Remington's lips moving hungrily with hers, his body pressed up against her.

There was a brief moment when Eva forgot where she was as she went to plant her hand behind her, only instead of a solid ground her fingers brushed thin air and she jolted, breaking their kiss and staring down at the ground.

"Fuck," It didn't seem all the far down from the grass, but up here she felt like she was miles up.

Remington chuckled, "You okay?" and she nodded, pink tinting her cheeks. He pulled her tighter into his embrace, willfully ensuring that she wasn't going anywhere, "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you,"

The sun eventually began to settle into the horizon, maybe it was four or five o'clock now? Eva was tired but happy as she sat against the tree trunk at their picnic spot, Remington's head in her lap and she threaded her fingers through his pink hair and they conversed amongst themselves. And then her attention was captured when she heard a sultry request.

"What poem are you gonna' use with the picture, Eva?" Emerson suddenly asked. Eva was taken aback for a moment, her tongue suddenly running dry.

"Erm -- j-just a new thing I wrote a while back," she said, "I kept meaning to put it up, but it always needed some tweaking,"

Remington glanced up at her, "... Can we hear it?"

"Yeah," Shy nodded, hope glimmering in her dark eyes.

Eva relented faster then she usually did, perhaps because she knew they would continue to bother her about it until she would just buck up and read it. And she knew Remington would never make her do anything she wasn't comfortable with. Besides, they had all read the proses she had posted already, what actual difference would it make for her to read aloud?

"Okay..."

She grabbed her bag and fished out her notebook, only having to flip to the first few pages. She settled back against the tree trunk. She inhaled to gather herself as her eyes scanned the words she had written only a few months back. Funny, how her writing looked so different compared to how she wrote now. The emotion was different...

"I thought you were so mature when I met you

because we were 18 and you liked pistachio ice cream

and you smoked weed.

And I thought, "what are the chances you'd like someone like me?"

And you never did."

Despite Eva's misgivings, she had a natural storytelling voice. Calm and soothing, Remington had quickly fallen in love with the sound. There was an eternal softness in her voice, a magic that transformed every word she spoke into something more, something special. It relaxed Remington more than he thought possible. His heart was full, content.

"And eight months ago, seven years later,

I met someone who spends his summers in Long Beach, NYC

and studies law as a hobby

and I thought, "he's so accomplished, why would he ever like me?"

And it turns out he never actually did either,

at least not enough to make it real."

Emerson hugged Shy tightly, resting his head on her shoulder as they were both hanging on every word. Her fingers splayed through the grass, twisting, tugging blade by blade surely the same way these characters had to Eva's subject.

"Then I got drunk one night and I texted him

and I asked him "why I wasn't good enough?"

and he said that I was.

He liked me all along, I just refused to see it.

I was the one who decided I wasn't enough.

Sometimes we actually can't see things that are so obviously right in front of us

because we feel we don't deserve them.

And all I could think about was how different my life would have been

if I realized that at the ice cream parlor seven years ago,"

#palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #palaye positivity #emo boys #fluff #summer love #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #band blog #poetry #original story #original female character

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notveryglittery · 4 years

Text

so @/dysaniadisorder posted this really cute zoom moxiety art and then i posted some selfies in a discord server and the reactions from that + this moxiety art got me feeling even more Fluffy than usual so here’s a very rambly au that i stream of consciousness wrote in half an hour lol

idk about anyone else, but i had a pen pal through english class in middle school for a little while. so what if, patton and virgil meeting through being pen pals. patton's letters are as bubbly as his stories, he includes stickers on the pages and the envelope, and uses *so many* exclamation marks. virgil meanwhile, tends to write very little and mostly just in reaction to whatever patton said. because sure, the letters are sent to the school and they've been told not to give away personal information, but y'know... Just In Case.

except for one towards the end of the program, when patton really doesn't want to lose contact with virgil, so he shares his instagram. and he says no pressure of course i dont even know if you have an instagram but here it is if you ever wanna try to keep talking. and bc roman's his best friend, of course virgil has instagram (ugh). so of course he checks patton's profile. and oh *no* he's as cute as his bubbly handwriting and his stories and stickers and exclamation marks

virgil's never really mentioned this whole pen pal thing to roman, because roman's english teacher did not sign her class up for it and he knows roman would be jealous. but he made the mistake of checking patton's profile in roman's presence and if anyone's going to notice a Gay Panic™, it's roman

so of course roman grills virgil and virgil caves bc like what?? else is he gonna do?? but anyway, roman hits the follow button for virgil but then virgil throws his phone across the room and breaks it so can we get an f in the chat

meanwhile patton's studying with his step-brother logan when he gets a little chime from his phone and? oh a new instagram follow that's neat, who's [insert cool username for virgil]? except of course virgil's profile is private so patton has to follow back to see any photos. except virgil's phone is busted! bummer

cue virgil not getting a new phone for a week or two bc idk he's in trouble for breaking the old one to begin with and by the time he finally does get a new one, he totally spaces on installing instagram. so it's like a month and a half later when roman asks him why the heck he hasn't been liking roman's pictures that virgil remembers. and then he also remembers patton. *oh god patton* how could he ever forget, he is a fool, and patton probably hates him now, or he must be super worried, bc the pen pal program is over so they havent been writing and then he just disappeared off the face of the planet which?? well patton should have expected it a little because he did say it would be okay if virgil didnt want to keep in contact but *oh god patton*

virgil installs instagram and finds patton's follow request (and like 32 comments from roman demanding that virgil like his photos what kind of best friend is he smh)

and he accepts it

and then while he's still riding his bravery high, he messages patton "hey it's virgil" and then Very Calmly sets his phone down before screaming into a pillow

meanwhile patton's busy cheering logan on at his swim meet but this does mean that he's posting all sorts of encouraging cheesy stuff to his story which means virgil is already getting a sneak peak into patton's life and wait oh my GOD is that his voice???????

virgil is very gay and he is having a Time

anyway patton also almost breaks his phone when he sees the follow request approved *and* the message!!! because lowkey , he considers virgil a pretty close friend!! he vented in some of those pen pal letters! said some things he couldn't bring himself to say to anyone else. and virgil was always so patient and kind and reminded him of all the good things to help and balance out the bad things.

so y'know, fast forward thru lots of instagram interactions. messaging each other late into the night. virgil always liking patton's photos and leaving a single "💜" comment on every one. they talk about roman - and how he's virgil's best friend and he may be dramatic and loud but he's reliable and genuine - and they talk about logan - and how patton wouldn't know anywhere near as much as he does w/out him and how they have sleepovers in the basement every saturday.

and fast forward to moving on from instagram to discord, and joining servers of fandoms they're both in. making a server for themselves + roman + logan (and *oh boy,* introducing roman and logan). sending silly memes and posts that "made me think of you", late night texting that ends with one sending the final “i guess you fell asleep, sweet dreams <3″ message, and the other sending the “oops i did, good morning <3″ message in return

and sure, roman might post pictures on instagram of himself and virgil, but virgil's always half-in half-out of frame or he's blurry or he's looking away. and so one day, he posts a selfie in their friend server because he's just got his hair dyed purple and he's *so excited* and patton. patton didnt even have time to prepare can we get an f in the chat

there are a LOT of keysmashes and hearts lol

roman is still laughing by the time patton manages to calm down. patton sort of flat out demands for a group video call aljsdf

logan and roman, all this time obviously because they can't be out done, have already had plenty of personal voice and video calls themselves. sometimes it's just to help roman run lines or help logan study for a test. but they have been on the receiving end of patton and virgil gushing about their respective crushes so they're in full support of this tbh

so they set up a group video call that night, roman and logan like immediately muting themselves bc let's be real we all know the real reason behind this. patton is gushing about virgil and virgil's hair like, right off the bat, and virgil is slowly but surely disappearing into his hoodie and the lighting in his room isn't very good, but gosh patton is *melting* and then

and THEN

patton pauses to finally drink out of his cooling hot cocoa and virgil takes the opportunity to clear his throat and sit up a little out of his hoodie cocoon and says thank you

and y'all we thought virgil was all Gay Panic™ when he saw patton's face in photos for the first time? and then he broke his phone when roman followed patton for him?

patton does a spit take and chokes on his hot cocoa and kind of maybe shorts out his laptop ajsdkjhsf

because we gotta go full circle baby

roman disappears from view on his camera because he just rolled off the bed he's laughing so hard

you know logan definitely anticipated this, so he's been on best buy's website this whole time, ready to find laptops on sale / schedule an appointment to get patton's laptop fixed

and uuuhhhh yeah :) pen pals to friends to lovers long distance moxiety, with background probably-qpr logince because that's the Vibe i'm getting. with bonus best friends prinxiety and familial logicality!! thanks for reading :D

#sanders sides fan fiction #moxiety #romantic moxiety #patton sanders #virgil sanders #platonic prinxiety #moxiety fan fiction #dani writes

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flamencodiva · 4 years

Text

Getting Back to You 2 - Forgive Me

Description: Amaya Campos and Dean Winchester had a playful rivalry. what happens when Dean is no longer her Dean. Will this change make one of them realize what they really desire, or will they continue to keep secrets?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Amaya Campos (Original Female Character) , AU Dean Winchester x AU Amaya Campos

Warnings: Language, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Word Count For Series: 100K+ words

Beta: @superfanficnatural

Book Cover by @talesmaniac89

A/N: Special thanks to - @crashdevlin @atc74 @smol-and-grumpy @winchest09 @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons @malfoysqueen14 @emoryhemsworth @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @whatareyousearchingfordean @katehuntington @anathewierdo and to all my friends who listen to me ramble about my writing. your words of encouragement mean the world to me! Without you I don’t think I could have found the courage to come back and share what I love most to do, WRITE.

A/N 2: SURPRISE! Decided to post it early so I hope you guys enjoy!

Getting Back To You Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Amaya placed her box on the bed. She had just finished moving into the Bunker permanently, taking room 20 for herself. Being right next to Sam made things easier when Dean was just down the hall.

"Is that all you got?"

Dean's voice made her jump towards him before a small wave of relief washed over her face.

"I mean, what more do I need, right?" she shrugged. "Almost everything I own is either in my duffle or in a storage unit."

"You could always move it here," Dean offered. "How does a nice night out at a bar sound?"

"It sounds good," she breathed. "Could use the time to get plastered before beating you at another bet."

"Oh, sweetheart," Dean licked his lips before crossing his arms. "That witch hunt was just a fluke. I'll win the next one, just you wait."

"Yeah, yeah," Amaya waved him off as she grabbed a few of her clothes and made her way to the bathroom they all had to share. "I'm going to shower and change. I'll meet you in half an hour?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Dean walked with her to the bathroom and placed his hand on her shoulder, making her look up at him.

"Yeah?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I figure," he cleared his throat, "we can eat someplace before we get down to drinking."

"Sure," she nodded her head. "Sam joining us?"

"I'm sure I can persuade him," Dean smiled.

With a laugh, Amaya walked inside and closed the door. Dean could hear the soft click of the lock before he turned around and made his way to Sam's room. Running a hand across his face, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The witch hunt seemed a little too easy for his liking. Lifting his fist, he was about to knock when Sam abruptly opened the door.

"No," was all his brother said.

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask," Dean argued.

"You were going to ask if I would come out with you and Amaya," Sam crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame.

Dean scoffed and gave his brother his best bitch face, "Was not. I mean, eventually, I would have, but I was going to ask if that witch hunt seemed a little too easy."

"Yeah, sure," Sam shook his head. "When it comes to the hunt—" Sam rubbed his hand across his stubbled cheek, "I'm looking into the incantation the witches were chanting. So far, I've been able to translate part of it."

"So, what were you able to translate?" Dean moved aside as Sam walked out of his room and made his way to the kitchen.

"Not much," Sam grabbed the notepad from the kitchen table as his eyes looked over his writing. "What I've translated so far is," he gave a slight squint "’We call upon the ancient powers, to hear our call, feel our power. Across time and space, let the souls switch.’"

Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother as he thought about the words, "’Let the souls switch?’ Which souls?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to keep looking into it," Sam grabbed a mug and poured himself a drink. "Dean, just wing it, or pick up a chick and have fun with Amaya like you always do."

"Sam," Dean sighed, "You know why I keep my distance. This life—" he ran a hand across his face, "this life is not easy, and the last thing I need is another stain on my soul. I don't need guilt when I can't protect her."

"She's not like your other loves, Dean," Sam pointed out. "She's a hunter. She was born a hunter. We’ve known her our whole lives. Dean, she's a legacy like us." Sam grabbed another folder he had out on the table and showed it to his brother, "Her grandfather was a Man of Letters just like ours."

"What?" Dean found the name of Amaya's grandfather highlighted by Sam, with a detailed explanation of his death.

"So just like our Dad," Sam sighed. "Amaya's dad lost his dad the same way. He was killed by Abaddon."

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat at learning the information. He looked at Sam; he knew his brother was right. Amaya wasn't like Cassie or Lisa, she was a hunter; she knew the risks, knew what the job entailed. Then again, so was Jo, but unlike Amaya, he remembered Jo came in late into the hunting game. She may have been a hunter, but she hadn’t really lived the life long enough, and could he really see his best friend and rival get hurt in his arms? It was bad enough when he was keeping his distance, but in revealing his feelings he felt it would just make it worse. He was already worried about her, how much would that change if he let himself feel what he'd been bottling up? Besides, all three of his relationships had something in common: they’d all loved him, and he loved them. In some form or another, he brought bad luck upon the many women he loved.

"Hey," Amaya's voice cut through his thoughts as the sound of her heels echoed in the kitchen. "We ready to go?"

Dean felt his breath get caught in his throat at how she dressed. She stood in her skin tight jeans that hugged her legs with a tube top and fishnet shirt combo that showed off her toned stomach and her perfect breasts. Her leather jacket hung on her shoulders as she stood to almost Dean's height in her four-inch black heels.

"Uhhhh—" Dean lost the use of his voice as he looked at her. His jeans felt a little tighter as he imagined peeling off all of her clothes.

Sam walked up and slapped Dean upside the head, making the older man glare at his younger brother.

"Dean's ready to go," Sam took a sip of his drink. "I'm staying in to try and make sense of the spell that the witches were conjuring."

"Oh Sammy," She walked over to him and gave him a gentle pat on his cheek. "If you don't use it, you will lose it."

Dean chuckled, the sass coming from Amaya snapping him out of his daze.

"She's right, Sam," Dean rolled his shoulders and winked at Amaya. "You don't use what you got, it might just shrivel up, much like all the rabbit food you don't eat that ends up going bad."

"Hey," Sam frowned as he gave Amaya his bitch face. "Just because I don't go out with you two—" he pointed to his brother and Amaya, "doesn't mean I don't get any. I just know how to keep you two from finding out."

Dean cleared his throat and adjusted himself. With a roll of his shoulders, he walked up to his brother and Amaya.

"Well, let's leave Sammy here to keep hitting the books," Dean said as he put his hands in his pockets. He stopped himself from touching Amaya, scared that he would do something they would both regret.

"Lead the way Dean-o," she chuckled, giving his shoulder a slight punch before standing aside to let him walk first.

Back in the other Universe, Henry Winchester surveyed the damage done by Hecate. He looked at his grandsons, who were assessing the best course of action. With a deep breath, he walked over to them.

"It seems this was all planned out," Henry said as he placed his hands in the pockets of his suit as he walked towards the trio.

"We are sorry, sir," Amaya apologized immediately as she stood straight, ignoring the feel of the sticky liquid seeping through her clothes.

"Amaya," Dean's voice sounded surprised as he saw the large gash on her side. "Infirmary, now."

"I'm fine," she waved him off as Henry came closer to them.

"Amaya—" Dean began.

"Dije que estoy bien," she growled and looked at him. "If anyone should be in the infirmary, it's you. You have a large gash on your head and multiple lacerations on your arms and chest."

Dean had to smirk at what she noticed. They had been hunting since they were both sixteen, thrust together at the academy they were both now instructors in. Looking at his grandfather, Dean could tell the old man was not in the least bit angry. This was just another curveball in the hunting game.

"Both of you head down to the infirmary and have Eileen look after the pair of you," Henry ordered be for he turned his attention to Sam. "Is there anything from the video feed from before we stormed the warehouse that we can use to investigate?"

"I have my team looking into it," Sam said as he looked around. "So far, they were able to stay hidden from the camera angle. I have no idea how that happened."

"I need you to work on it while they recover," Henry sighed and looked between Amaya and Dean. "Speaking of recovering—" he used his cane to walk over to them. "You two, infirmary now! I am going to be grounding you from hunts until you heal completely."

"Yes sir," they echoed. Both of them giving each other a slight glare.

A few hours and a couple of stitches later, Dean and Amaya had made their way to their apartment, where a happy German Shepherd greeted them.

"Zep," Dean warned, "Down."

The dog gave a slight whine as he stopped his motions and laid down by the couch.

"That's our good boy, Zep," Amaya praised as she gave the dog a generous pat on his head.

"You going to tell me why you refused to head to the infirmary when I told you to?" Dean asked as he grabbed a beer from the fridge, looking at his fiancée.

"Easy," she said and gave him a slight shrug. "I was perfectly fine. I was more concerned with you and the fact that we are now dealing with a goddess."

"Amaya," Dean sighed as he made his way to her.

He held her hand in his before pulling her to him, her body between his legs as he sat on one of the bar stools. Setting the beer down, he used his now free hand to cup her face.

"Dean," she whispered as he brought her forehead against his.

"I know you are strong, but we have had one too many close calls between us," Dean admitted and lifted his head slightly as he placed feather kisses along her face, avoiding her lips.

"Tease," she whispered before his lips crashed into hers in a heated kiss.

The world seemed to stop around them as Dean pressed her body flush against his. He would give anything to stay with her, but Hecate's words resonated in his mind. She had warned him that he had time to be with Amaya, but how much time did he have left?

Dean moved his lips down her jaw towards her ear. He nipped at her earlobe, before moving down to kiss the sweet spot on her neck. It was the one Dean knew drove her wild. He smirked against her skin when she let out a low, lust-filled moan.

"I don't ever want to lose you, Amaya," Dean muttered against her skin as he pulled her blouse open. The buttons flew across the room.

"You're lucky I have about fifty of these," she moaned, raking her fingers through his hair as he kissed down to the valley between her breasts.

His face nestles deep between them as he left open mouth kisses along her skin. Reaching behind her, he undid the clasp of her bra, freeing her bosom from its constricting grip. Amaya sucked in a sharp breath as his lips sealed around her nipple, his tongue licking as his mouth sucked gently on it. Her fingers moved from his head to his shirt. Quickly unbuttoning his shirt, she let her fingers caress his shoulder as it's removed from its owner and tossed on the floor.

"Always knew you were a boob man," Amaya teased as she pulled his face away from her chest, bringing her lips towards his in a searing kiss.

It didn't take long before Dean had Amaya wholly naked and on the island counter of their kitchen, his head between her legs, tongue lapping up at her juices. The sounds she was making were music to his ears. She was tart and sweet all at the same time as his lips surrounded her clit, sucking on her pulsating nub. Her fingers pulling at his hair just the way he liked it.

"Shit, babe," she moaned. "Your tongue feels so good. You are a damn god with it."

Dean smirked against her wet core as he moved to press his fingers into her. She was nice and warm, making his cock throb against his pants. He continued his ministrations, feasting on her pussy as she pulled at his short hairs. The taste of her driving him wild as he felt her walls flutter as her orgasm hit.

"Fuck," She cursed. Her legs quivered as Dean helped her ride through it.

Amaya hadn't come down from her euphoric high when he undid his belt and made quick work of removing his pants. Dean pumped himself a few times as he looked at her dripping cunt. The sight made him moan before he eased his tip into her.

"Shit, Amaya," he breathed and caressed her cheek before pulling her in for a kiss. "Your pussy feels so good."

"Dean," she whispered. Her fingernails scratching at his back as he thrust his hips. "Fuck," she gasped just as she felt the anticipation build-up.

"You going to cum again, Baby? Going to coat my cock with your cum?" he growled as he snaked his hand between them. His thumb found her clit drawing small circles on the sensitive nub.

"Dean," she moaned, her nails digging into his back as she fluttered around him.

Her legs shook as she orgasmed. Dean grunted and groaned as he snapped his hips, skin on skin echoing around the apartment. Zep looked at his owners, fucking on the counter, head tilted, watching as his owners moved as one. Meanwhile, Dean dug his fingers into Amaya's hips, leaving marks on her skin. She loved it when he marked her as it sent her over the edge again, just feeling his possessive nature, the sensation of him never wanting to let her go. At the same time, she pulled him close to her, her own fingers digging into his flesh, the fear of losing him surfacing in her thoughts. And yet, the sound he made as she rolled his hips brought her out of the negative haze. He felt perfect inside her, filled her just right.

Dean gave another groan as his hips met hers. His lips kissed along any skin he could reach, the smell of her lavender perfume calming him as the image of the ruble almost crushing her tried to push their way through. He couldn’t lose her, couldn’t even imagine what his life would be like without her. He could feel her walls clenching around him again and he gave one last grunt before he came, filling her to the brim with his seed. His mouth devoured hers as he stayed buried inside her until he began to soften.

"Fuck, baby," Dean chuckled. "We need to go on assignment more often."

Amaya playfully slapped his shoulder. "Going on assignment has nothing to do with our chemistry."

Dean helped her off the counter, placing her gently in front of him, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her in for another deep kiss.

"I love you, Amaya," he muttered against her lips. "If anything happens to me, you move on, okay?"

"Hey, where did this come from?" she pulled back to look into his green eyes.

"Just— just something that the goddess said," Dean looked down at the floor. "She mentioned that I need to spend my time with you wisely and—"

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Amaya held on to his face. "Sam will figure out what the witches were up to."

"This is something we've never dealt with before," Dean said as he cupped her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "If anything were to happen, if you can't fix it— just let me go?"

"Fat chance," Amaya scoffed. "No way in hell I am ever giving up on getting you back, Dean. Now, let's forget about this, go to bed, and in the morning we teach the future hunters of tomorrow."

Dean took in a deep breath, gazing deeply into her eyes. He could feel himself taking in all her features: the shape of her face, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, how her hair framed her face. He pulled her in for another heated kiss. Their tongues clashed as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he began to feel aroused again.

"Babe," she muttered against his lips.

"Can't help it, Sweetheart," he teased with a smirk "I'm hot for teacher."

The sound of her laughter filled the apartment, followed by Dean's soft chuckle. The night was spent with laughs and moans echoing in their home. Before long, both hunters were asleep in each other's arms.

Dean awoke sometime later, not able to sleep anymore. Amaya's soft snores filled the room. Looking down at her, he gently moved her hair out of her face. He smiled a bit when she leaned into his touch. He remembered when he first met Amaya. Her grandfather had brought her to the academy, she was thirteen at the time. Dean had decided that she was probably a snooty spoiled princess, but in the end, Amaya had him on his back as she straddled him, blade at his throat. It was one of his fondest memories. After that, he had tried to always one-up Amaya, but every time he found himself on his back, it made him want her even more. She was independent, smart, and always called him out on his shit. Glancing at the clock, he sighed when he realized he woke up before their alarm. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he gently moved away from her, careful not to wake Amaya. He could hear Zep whining as he made his way to the kitchen to start brewing their coffee. As he set the timer for the coffee to brew, he looked over at Zep, who lay by the sliding glass door to be let out to their tiny backyard.

"Okay, okay," Dean groaned and gave a small smile as he gave Zep a pat on the head before letting the dog out to do his business.

Leaning against the open door frame, he watched as Zep moved around the small plot of land to find the right spot to mark. He never noticed Amaya had woken up. With Zep coming in, Dean turned to see Amaya holding out his favorite mug filled with coffee.

"I see you woke up before the alarm today," she breathed before she caressed his cheek before planting a kiss on his lips.

"What can I say," he acknowledged and gave a soft shrug. "I was anxious to get back in the classroom."

"Eso lo llamo mierda," Amaya scoffed. ( I call that bullshit.)

"What?" Dean mocked as he wrapped his arms around her. "I love my classes. The kids are into learning all the strategies for a good hunt. They’re working on what to look for when hunting a ghost. I think they're ready to move on to poltergeists."

"Really?" she probed while she raised an eyebrow at her fiancé. "Well, My advanced lore kids are already moving up to Demons and Latin incantations," she let her fingers dance across his chest.

"Well, you do have the students that tested into research," Dean reminded her before capturing her lips with his.

"Si seguimos, vamos a estar tarde," she whispered. (If we keep going, we're going to be late.)

Dean groaned. He hated it when she was right.

"Me voy a vestir," he sighed and pressed his forehead against hers. "I also have wrestling try-outs to oversee this afternoon." (I’m going to get dressed.)

"Just don't pop your stitches coach," She chuckled and gave him a playful slap on his ass as he walked back to the room to get dressed for work.

Back in the original universe, Dean looked over at Amaya as he drove them to the local dive bar. He glanced every now and then towards her. The way she bobbed her head to the music made him smile. He was finding it harder and harder to find an excuse to stay away from her. If he pulled away too much, he was risking hurting her as a friend, but if he didn't hold himself back, he’d slip up, and she could be cursed with dying all because he was in love with her.

"So," she broke the deafening silence. "How are we doing this?"

"Doing what?" Dean questioned as he shifted in his seat, driving with one hand on the wheel while the other was casually resting on the open window frame.

"Well," Amaya began and rolled her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension in them. "Que vamos hacer? (What are we doing?) Are we going to hook up with different people? Are we going to hustle some frat boys at pool? I mean, what's the game plan?"

"I was thinking just," Dean trailed off a bit and licked his lips, "drinking and hanging out."

Amaya raised her eyebrow at him, "Okay, what is going on? You usually want to have the hottest girl at the bar hanging all over you."

Dean parked the car and turned to her. He didn't have a chance to continue before she was out of the car waiting for him. Getting out, he jogged slightly towards her.

"What can I say," he sighed and gave a slight shrug. "What if, just for tonight, we stress relief together. No strings."

"No strings?" Amaya asked and opened the door to the bar and made her way to the counter. She sat on the barstool and ordered herself two red-headed slut shots for herself and whiskey for Dean. "I can handle that."

"I know it's—wait, what?!" Dean snapped his head in her direction as she knocked back her shot. "You-you are okay with what I suggested?"

"Yeah, porque no?" Amaya shrugged. "I mean, what do we have to lose, right? I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Who better to make me feel good than the meat man," she smirked.

"Oh, fuck, Amaya! You are not going to let that go are you," Dean knocked his own shot back before slamming the glass on the bar top. It was something that Dean had let slip out on a drunken tirade, he had heard it from someone and figured it described him perfectly. After all, he was a guy who did love eating meat, and then Amaya had to look up the term on Urban Dictionary and laugh at how he used it. "How about we play some pool, hustle some money and then have some," Dean licked his lips before leaning in and stealing a kiss from Amaya, "fun."

Amaya bit her bottom lip when he pulled away. Her brown eyes gazed into his green ones. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She had always dreamed of this but never acted on it. She knew the risks, but she had to keep her feelings in check.

"Bueno, que estas esperando?" (Well, what are you waiting for?) She downed her second shot and looked at him. "If we're going to do this, you need to learn to relax. Besides, it's not the first time we've fucked, remember?" she let her fingers dance along with his shirt. "Gringo, let's see how much money we can make."

Dean let out a chuckle, reminiscing about the time they had a few drinks after a celebrated wolf hunt. Three drinks turned into a make-out session in the alley, followed by stumbling into her room, then a glorious night of fucking until the sun came up. When he woke up, she was gone and left a note that said thanks for the help and stress relief.

Dean shook out his thoughts as she pulled away and walked towards the pool tables, her hips swaying. Dean tilted his head, watching her leave. He licked his lips, wondering what it would be like to have her ass bouncing on his cock. Shaking the thought out of his head, he made his way to her as they picked out the best suckers to hustle. It didn't take long to find some frat boys who were too tipsy for their own good.

"Hey Mama," one of them said, "Why don't you ditch this guy and hang out with us?"

"We can really make you see stars. Besides, you're Latina, right?" The other one interjected. "I'm sure we can make a mean salsa in the bedroom."

Amaya bit her cheek from lashing out and giggled stiffly. "Ay Gringo," she shook her head. "Dudo que vas a poder a hacerme ver estrellas." (I doubt you can make me see stars.) Amaya walked up to one of them, her knife concealed before placing it on his crotch. "The only guy making me see stars or as you put it, helping me make a mean salsa in the bedroom…" she tilted her head, "is the guy I'm with. Entendiste?" (Understand?)

The frat boy nodded while his friend seemed to swallow a lump in his throat. With that settled, Dean and Amaya wiped the floor with the frat boys making off with at least $5,000. With a laugh, Amaya and Dean made their way to the Impala. Dean pressed her up against the passenger door. His fingers found their way under her fishnet top, squeezing her hip.

Amaya moaned into his kiss, "Papi," (Daddy) she whispered. "You gonna make me feel good, Winchester?"

"Oh, it's a promise, Campos," Dean said as he gave her a devilish grin.

The drive back to the Bunker was filled with teasing and moans. Dean's cock was rock hard as Amaya teased him. Amaya's panties soaked through her pants as Dean teased her with what he was going to do to her. The minute the car was parked in the garage, Amaya climbed onto Dean's lap straddling him.

"Amaya," he breathed. "We should move this to my room."

"Y que? (And what?) Give up a chance to make out like teenagers in a sexy car?" she grinned before nipping at his earlobe. "Tienes miedo?"

"M--Mi-eh-dough?" Dean raised an eyebrow at her.

"You scared?" Amaya clarified with a roll of her eyes.

Dean scoffed as he removed her leather jacket from her shoulders, revealing her fishnet top with her tube top under it. "I'm not… are you not wearing a bra?"

"Wow," Amaya chuckled. "That's one way to distract you." she smiled before capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

"Fuck, Maya," Dean placed his hands on either side of her face. "You are as sexy as fuck."

"Tell me something I don't know," she sassed.

With a sly smile, she rolled her hips, pressing up against his erection. She could feel Dean take in a sharp breath before pulling away from her, pupils lust blown as he tried to control himself.

"I really want to take you to my room Maya, please?" He found himself begging.

"En Español," she teased.

"Campos, don't ruin the mood!" Dean growled as he reached into her shirt, squeezing her breast. His thumb rolling over her erect nipple.

"Español, Winchester," she reiterated, grabbing at his short hair, giving it a tug, earning a strangled moan from the hunter.

"Pour Fa-vour," he groaned.

"Nice accent," she teased. "Since you asked so nicely and even said please."

As quick as lightning, she had gotten off his lap and out of the car. Dean stayed shocked for a minute before jumping out after her. By the time he reached room eleven, he had found her in just her panties lying on his bed, legs sprawled. Her fingers played with her clit through her panties. Dean stood there, mouth slightly open at the sight of her fingering herself, her moans, music to his ears.

"Que esperas, gringo?" (What are you waiting for, whiteboy?) she smiled as she ran a hand along her breast, pinching her nipple between her fingers.

"Fuck Amaya," Dean pulled off his jacket and flannel in one swoop.

His hand worked on his belt before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper. By then, Amaya had shimmied out of her underwear, giving him a good view of her glistening heat. Dean had let out a low growl before licking his lips and striding towards her. His head buried between her legs as he flattened his tongue against her opening.

"Fuck, Dean!" she hissed when he began sucking on her clit. "You really know how to drive a girl loca."

Dean chuckled against her entrance before plunging his tongue into her dripping hole along with his fingers, curling them as she squirmed against him. He let out a moan when Amaya ran her fingers through his hair, giving it a short tug.

"Someone loves their hair pulled," Amaya moaned as his fingers curled and pressed on her g-spot. "Papi, dame lo todo."

"Want me to give you everything, huh?" Dean chuckled. "I'll give it to you… Mami."

Amaya gasps as he continued his ministrations. The coil in her belly snapping as she came on his mouth and fingers. Dean lapping up at her juices, making her moan and scream some more as he made her cum a second time. Amaya had just started to come down from her high when Dean thrust into her waiting cunt.

Their bodies moving as one as they swallowed each other's moans and screams in a heated kiss. They both chased their release, holding and nipping at one another as Dean's thrusts stilled as he spilled into her. Amaya's thighs shook with her own orgasm as she pulled Dean close to her body. Dean groaned as he fell next to her, holding her tight.

"That was nice," he chuckled.

"Yeah," Amaya sighed. "Sleep time."

"Night, Maya," Dean kissed the top of her head.

"Night, Gringo," she whispered.

Dean made sure that Amaya was sleeping before looking down at her. Closing his eyes, he made his decision. Dean had to keep her safe, even if it meant breaking her heart just a bit. Moving the stray hairs out of her face, he leaned in and gave her one last kiss on her temple.

"Forgive me, Maya. I just can't have you put in danger because of me," holding her close, he drifted off to sleep none the wiser at what the witches spell had in store for him.

Chapter 3

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ghostgothgeek · 4 years

Text

Stuck.

Wasn’t planning on posting anything for DannyMay except I realized one of my WIPs literally has the same title as the theme for today, so here we are.

2.3k. Rated T for swearing. FFN || AO3

On a list of ways Vlad Masters could spend his day, he certainly never had “get stuck in an elevator with Samantha Manson” on it.

The day had started like any other; there was a ghost convention in town. Ghost hunters from all over the world came to the infamously haunted Amity Park in hopes of seeing a ghost, but seeing the new inventions from the Fentons (who were a big deal in the ghost hunter realm) and sharing their enthusiasm about ghosts with others would be satisfactory enough. (They really hoped to see a ghost, though.)

Jack and Maddie Fenton had dragged their children to the convention this year, happy they didn’t have to travel halfway across the world and their children could join them this time. They wanted Jazz and Danny to experience what they had dedicated their lives to, and to support the presentation of their newest invention. Jazz naturally brought a thick book with her to read, and a notebook for detailing her people watching (and psychoanalysis of said people). Misery loves company, so Danny managed to convince his friends into coming along and keeping an eye out. If a ghost showed up, he wouldn’t exactly be able to transform into Danny Phantom at a convention filled with ghost hunters and all their new weapons.

Vlad had shown up to keep up with appearances, and to see what pricey new inventions he could buy for Valerie. Surely, Daniel would know how to handle his parents’ weapons, but not weapons made across seas. Most importantly, though, Vlad had shown up for Maddie Fenton.

Vlad glanced around at all of the new inventions, paying close attention to the specifications of the weapons in case he encountered any as Plasmius. He checked his watch. Only ten minutes until the Fenton’s presentation. He wouldn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to stare at Maddie for an hour and watch Jack make a fool of himself. Vlad smiled to himself as he pressed the button to call the elevator. Maybe if Jack embarrassed them enough, Maddie would finally come running to him instead.

Meanwhile, Danny and his friends were walking the convention floor. Tucker was occupied with a game on his phone, as usual. Sam was on a mission to find the most dangerous looking weapon, and Danny was just trying to keep an eye on things. Sam excused herself to go to the restroom before the Fentons’ big presentation, telling Danny and Tucker she would meet them there. Once her bladder was empty and her lipstick was reapplied, she headed for the elevator and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited.

It finally arrived, and Sam started walking towards the inside until she saw Vlad Masters was already occupying the elevator. She contemplated just walking up the five flights of stairs but decided the elevator would be faster and easier. “Why hello, Samantha,” Vlad slyly greeted. She sighed as she stepped inside and turned her back towards Vlad, ignoring him and pressing the elevator button repeatedly in hopes that it would make the elevator move faster.

The elevator started moving and Sam switched to chipping some of the black paint off her fingernails when all of the sudden, the elevator stopped. It was way too soon to have gone up five floors already. “Uh oh,” she noted and tried pressing the elevator button again with no success.

“Oh, look what you did.” Vlad groaned irritatedly and pressed the call button. He waited through several rings before accepting the fact that this convention center was severely understaffed. He would have to remember to do something about that. “Well, it was nice seeing one of Daniel’s young friends, but I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat.”

“Hey! At least have the common courtesy to phase me out, too.” Sam glared at him, seeing he was about ready to ditch her when she added, “Just imagine how grateful Mrs. Fenton would be if you saved one of her son’s friends from imminent boredom.”

Vlad considered the offer, pursing his lips and deciding it would put him in good faith with the Fenton Family if he helped Daniel’s pathetic goth friend. He completely forgot about the fact that he wouldn’t even be able to tell Maddie exactly how he helped the dark child, but that wasn’t important right now. “Very well,” he grabbed her arm and was about to transform into his ghostly counterpart until he noticed a camera built into the corner of the elevator, with the little red light on signaling it was recording and pointing directly at him. He sighed and let her go. He could try to find a way to find the footage and destroy it, but he couldn’t risk getting caught at a ghost convention, of all things. Not to mention, there was likely a ghost shield up.

Sam followed his gaze when he let go of her arm and sighed, “great.” She slid down the elevator wall to sit on the floor, pulling her phone out and texting Danny in hopes he could find some way to get her out. Vlad pulled his phone out as well, and shut his eyes in annoyance as he discovered it was dead. Sam’s phone pinged and she read the message, sighing in defeat and putting her phone back into her pocket. “Danny said they are aware the elevator is stuck and are waiting for the maintenance guy to come back from his lunch break and fix it. It may be awhile.” She adjusted herself on the floor so she was at least remotely comfortable. It could take ten minutes or it could take two hours for them to be rescued.

After a few minutes of silence, Vlad smirked and spoke up. “Well, since you’re here and are forced to listen, how about we discuss how you can convince Daniel to be on my side and-”

Sam cut him off and stood up. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Danny will never want to join you! He thinks you’re creepy, which you are. I mean, you want to marry his mom and have him be your child? That’s weird. You’re a grown-ass man, you need to get over this shit already. Mrs. Fenton won’t leave her husband, especially for you. You are a moron to think otherwise.”

Vlad stared at the girl wide-eyed for a moment before opening his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

“Honestly, you’re so pathetic. You hurt and fight with Danny, who is old enough to be your child. Do you really have nothing better to do with your life? Don’t you have anyone else your own age to pick on? Because fixating on a child is just gross. And, you can’t even fight him yourself! No, you choose another child to do it for you. Lame.” She rolled her eyes at him.

Vlad didn’t know what to say. He was shocked into oblivion.

“Really, you don’t have anything better to do with your time or money? Do you know how much good you could do if you donated money to charities and organizations benefiting the environment? Instead, you choose to dress up like a vampire and be an asshole. Like Mrs. Fenton or any woman would fall for a guy like that. Plus, your whole vampire look? It’s so corny. Believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of vampire movies and read up enough to know they wouldn’t dress so stupidly. A cape? Really? Are you seven?”

“I-”

“You really need some hobbies. I mean, what have you even done with your life since you got ghost powers, aside from preying on and manipulating children and trying to grossly seduce a married woman who has zero interest in you? Seriously, get a life. Also, please actually stop with the whole vampire thing, you’re ruining it for me.” She sat down once again and smirked at Vlad’s agape mouth. She had the opportunity, she was going to take it.

“I mean, you aren’t terrifying or gruesome at all,” she continued, “you’re half dead and you aren’t even scary or even vaguely threatening. I’m sure more people are afraid of me than they are of you. I honestly don’t see why some of the ghosts in the Ghost Zone tolerate you; they certainly don’t respect you.” Sam picked at a scab on her arm.

“But...I’m scary! People respect me!” Vlad interjected.

“People only pretend to respect you because you’re the mayor, and you only won that by cheating. And ghosts don’t give two shits about you, the ghost who released Pariah Dark then fled at any hint of a challenge. Danny had to clean up your mess. Honestly, so pathetic.” Sam shook her head and watched as she flicked her scab across to Vlad, who flinched, and watched fresh blood rise to the injury. “And you are far from scary. My mom is more terrifying. And she’s a small woman who wears pink. Seriously, people see her coming and they move in the opposite direction. Oh gross, I guess that’s one thing I have in common with my mom…” She trailed off and made a face.

“I’ll have you know, Vlad Masters is well respected in the state of Wisconsin and Plasmius is feared in the ghost zone!”

“Survey says...no.” Sam whipped out her pocket knife from her boot and started carving some doodle into the floor. Vlad stared at the girl with wide eyes. What kind of fourteen-year-old girl carries a knife around to doodle?! “Danny beats you all the time and he’s younger than you. You’ve even been half ghost longer! Danny is less experienced and he still whoops your ass, seriously why are you so cocky?” She pointed the knife at him and he grimaced. “You’re just a pathetic little man-child who throws tantrums when he can’t get what he wants,” she rolled her eyes and finished with a “seriously go fuck yourself”.

Danny was pacing by the elevator door. It’s been 45 minutes and there’s no telling what Vlad could be doing to Sam in an enclosed space! She didn’t even have many weapons on her. He knows she’s tough and can hold her own but still! Vlad had been looking for every opportunity to get back at Danny, and holding Sam as a hostage would be a very good way of doing so.

“Come on, man he wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull something at a ghost convention,” Tucker started confidently, “er...right?”

Danny groaned, “I don’t know! I wouldn’t put it past him. God, if he hurts her, I swear-”

“I got it!” Some random maintenance guy pried open the elevator doors with a crowbar and stuck his arm inside to assist.

“Finally!” Danny ran over to the elevator and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Sam scolding the man for touching her. At least she was alive.

The man quickly backed away and Sam popped her head out of the elevator, which was stuck between floors. “Hey Danny, hold this for a sec,” she tossed him her switchblade, which he fumbled in his hands and miraculously caught without stabbing himself or anyone else, as she climbed out of the elevator. She grabbed her knife and stored it back in her boot.

“Did he hurt you? Are you hurt? Tell me what he did I’ll-”

Sam ignored Danny’s questioning and she glared at the maintenance guy who was backing away slowly from her. “‘I got it’ my ass,” she mocked the man, “the only way you were even able to get a crowbar in the gap is because I made you one with my knife.”

“SAM!” Danny started shaking her, “are you okay?!” He looked at her arm where it was lightly bleeding. “You’re bleeding!”

“Stop. SHAKING. ME!” Sam shook him back until he cut it out. “I’m fine, this is from the other day with the Box Ghost. Vlad didn’t touch me.”

“Speaking of Vlad, is he still in there?” Tucker glanced back at the elevator.

After a few moments, out came Vlad Masters, looking as pale as a...well, you know. He was visibly shaken and looked quite disturbed. Once his feet were on solid ground, he took a deep breath and composed himself. When his eyes caught the lavender ones of the goth, he flinched. Sam smirked, while Danny and Tucker each raised an eyebrow.

“Are you alright, Mayor Masters?”

“God, Sam, what did you do to him?” Tucker quipped.

“Nothing! We just had a nice little chat is all…” Sam crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m perfectly fine! I kept the child calm while-” Vlad tried explaining himself but with one look at Sam and one look at him, it was pretty clear who was shaken up about the whole thing. She cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to say “try me”. “I, uh, I’m fine. I gotta get going, lots of things to do…goodbye, Daniel. Daniel’s friend...Miss Manson, I’m so glad we came to an understanding-”

Sam lunged for him and he ran in the opposite direction. Danny gently held her back with one of his arms, “jeeze Sam, and to think I was worried about you in there.” He chuckled.

“You were worried about me?” Sam challenged.

Danny blushed, “I mean...we both, Tucker and I, worried, you know.”

Tucker laughed as Danny babbled, “Okay, but really, Sam. What did you do to him? He looks like he’s going to throw up!”

“Or shit his pants…” Danny added.

“Or cry…” Tucker continued.

“Funny,” she said sarcastically. Sam shrugged, “I just talked to him, gave him some of my Sam Manson charm.”

“Oh god.”

“Poor guy.”

#AKA Sam just roasts tf out of Vlad #also you can pry the 'AU where Sam carries a knife at all times' from my cold dead hands #Sam Manson #Vlad Masters #Danny Fenton #Tucker Foley #Danny Phantom #Stephanie writes sometimes #DannyMay #DannyMay2020 #am I doing this right idk

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calypsoff · 3 years

Text

Sixty Three. Part 2

The love of my life Mel always coming through, the fact she made me breakfast in bed is just showing wifey material “you think I could get married again?” I questioned “who, you? Girl, we could. We could be in a polygamist relationship? I mean seeing as your man has a bromance maybe we can have ours” I chuckled “thank you for breakfast in bed, was I snoring last night?” Mel eyes widened “you have always done the heavy breathing mouth open business which I am used too, chile yes. You were snoring a lot” I sighed out “I am getting fat that is why, maybe it’s me. Maybe I am eating bad things, but I crave just luxury greasy food!” Mel chuckled “calm down, you are very passionate about food. I get it baby, but then I couldn’t finish off love and hip hop either, you were snoring over it” how shameful “maybe I need to eat healthy, like my chin. It’s becoming double, don’t you think?” Mel rolled her eyes “you are pregnant! Shut up, you’re eating for two Robyn, I don’t care about anything you are saying. You’re glowing, you’re the prettiest bitch I know that is pregnant and glowing, your ankles aren’t even what you’re saying. So now what?” Mel really snapped on me, she has shut down every issue with a quickness. I must have drove her crazy with my whining but it’s true “you’re my wife for life, thank you” I am not even looking for compliments, I just feel that way “when I saw you at the Grammys, just everything about you. You look I don’t know, even more beautiful if that can be a thing. I mean look at this” Mel turned away and then bought her phone into my eye view “no way, you’re such a fan” I giggled, she has my red carpet look as her lock screen picture “so elegant, hand under bump. So protective of the baby” poking my bottom lip out “I am, thank you Mel, you’re the best” that has really made my day, I adore her so much “so are you, your eyes look bomb as fuck too. Seen your eye colour, whoever took the shot, took the money one” seeing that picture, I get it. I do look good.

Mel is actually right; I do look good on the red carpet and I never really posted my look so I thought I would do it now. I posted it an hour ago and it’s hit a million already, that fast too I don’t know how but Mel is right, she is taking me out for dinner. She is such a good wife, she asked, and I said yes because why not. I’ve ate breakfast about two hours ago and I’m here already cooking up steak, I am hungry, and I think it’s my sadness speaking. Chris text me just half hour ago, a text not even a call and the text really made no sense whatsoever, he spoke on I’m good and are you but that’s it and it’s like what? It made no sense to me because I said to him call me when he got there and he never did, I think he’s maybe hungover, so I guess but that video he reposted on his page has gone, like he deleted it just like that “I’m glad you’re here, because I know I’m not losing my mind” I pointed at Mel as I turned away from the pan “why? You might be, they say when you’re pregnant you forget things” I know damn well what I saw “so last night you told me to stop watching Chris right? Remember I watched a video, and the female was like Breezy you can dance or whatever?” Crossing my arms above my bump “yes I do, why?” See I knew it “he deleted that video on his page, I am guessing he reposted it in a drunken state, woke up realised and deleted it” Mel pulled a face confused “why would he delete it? Knowing he put it up for the world to see?” I laughed “he assumed I was asleep, think about it. I have been sleeping constantly early, he knows that so he assumed delete it, so I won’t see and then text me at the same time. So is he playing a game? Why delete it? He knew there was a female speaking, he reposted from her page too, am I looking into this too much? Did he just not want the headache, tell me” I am asking Mel like she knows “I think he just didn’t want the headache; I think you’re right in him just not wanting the argument. He assumed you would be asleep” that really upsets me “I don’t want to seem like a wife that is panicking that my husband will cheat because he won’t but I’m feeling like shit, what the fuck is he doing” I am frustrated “I tell you what he’s not doing, he’s not bout going to stress you out” she says that but I am.

I shouldn’t but I am, I am just thinking why did he delete that video so I had to find out the girl, find out her name on Instagram which was easy because of the fan pages. Chris is one hundred percent high as hell and drunk, he has a picture with the girl too which is expected. He had a very good night, and I am very unsure on what to do, I don’t want to seem like the person ruining his fun, I am thinking hard on this. He still won’t call me; I did think thirst trap but no. And I know the only reason he won’t call me because he knows I will be angry at him; I am honestly very angry him. He’s made is even worse by actually deleting the post, I mean for what “you’re thinking so hard aren’t you? I can tell with the look on your face” nodding my head “I’m not even going to be childish in this, I mean there is so many things I can do but I think I’m going to be silent and then bite when he comes back home, what on earth is he playing at” I need to stop thinking about it, i really do “best way, don’t react. If he rings then he does, he will come home eventually” squinting my eyes, I am so fucking angry “eventually, he doesn’t see how bad he looks. It may be harmless, but it really isn’t Mel, this is not it, Mel I want to fucking cuss him out” looking back at my phone, I am just here like a crazy bitch looking at his tagged pictures. Tapping on the video, from the freeze frame he is pointing and laughing. The video started playing, the video panned to what Chris was pointing at “you keep laughing but tell me, why they call you breezy?” It is that same girl that was taking a video of him, he looked at the camera “y’all heard Chris rap? Drop us a line” Chris busted out laughing “I can’t, Mr Graham is lying, he is lying” he shook his head “drop them bars, come on. He literally did” Chris is showing out, you can tell on his face. He licked his lips “go then Breezy, get on with it” I would rip that bitches’ eyes out “aight, wait” he laughed “I got something, ok. Lower that shit down, a little!” how can he just do this to me, like he is really doing this. The music turned down “y’all hear this, my nigga got bars” Chris bopped his head “yeah my niggas thugging, popping rubber-bands money in my hand, double cupping with that Sprite mix it with Zan” he lifted his cup “we some zombies here to tonight, slow motion yo bitch choosing. She said ‘don't they call you Breezy?’ I told that bitch ‘I'm cooling’ hundred million dollars, got a hundred on my chain” They all cheered laughing “right no, done. Over” Mel snatched my phone “over!” she pointed at me.

I don’t even know how to feel “we just literally got married, I am not going to cry” I said the very words and what did I do, I sobbed out “no, I am not. What the fuck Mel” Mel locked my phone “we are going, just us two. Forget the meal, pack yo shit and we are going Mexico to unwind. I don’t want to hear it, go back pack your things and we are going. And we will have our fun, you don’t need to be sat here thinking of that. That is so mean to you, what if you were alone? What if I wasn’t here, you would be a mess on your own. The blue check got to him, he thinks he can act like that and have you. When it doesn’t work like that” I sniffled “I don’t want anybody to know I have issues, I know these pages are posting it but me, us. We can’t show it, it looks so bad. I might as well stayed with Rakim least he silently just drove me crazy, nobody fucking knew” Mel shushed me “you are carrying my child, just relax. Please gather your stuff, leave the home how it is. Or better yet leave the home a little messier, you know how you dislike him throwing his clothes on the floor. I am not saying anything, but you know” Mel side eyed me, I think I get what she means.

If Mel wasn’t here, she is right I would be here just crying, I would be because first I didn’t want him to go. This was supposed me mine and his time, he mentioned that we don’t have alone time and when we do he planned that. Chris is very much my weakness and I hate that for me “it’s annoying me already” turning to Mel “mhmm well he likes to have his clothes on the floor doesn’t he not? Well there he goes, anyways you packed? Don’t make the bed, leave everything to what it is. A mess, you tell me how you are here doing all these things for him to just go, like that too. And left you alone, you’re pregnant. You needed someone here to make sure you’re ok, it was wrong and he needs to learn. Chris is as you said, not the cheating type but he very friendly and that is trouble but he will for sure realise he fucked up when he sees the home like this. Those pans that you cooked steak on, I hope he can scrub, I just made myself a milkshake too. So we ready” nodding my head, my phone started ringing “poppa” siri said his name, rolling my eyes “he calls you now, but don’t be made. Don’t do it” nodding my head, answering the call “hey” I breathed out “you didn’t answer my text everything ok?” I didn’t answer his text hours ago “yeah fine, just doing nothing as you left me like this” Mel eye-balled me “I will be back twin, it’s just the weekend. I miss you” he hasn’t mentioned the video situation “you too, oh my mom is ringing. I need to answer this” I lied “I will call you later then. I love you” I hate him “too” that is all I said before disconnecting the call, I am going to go Mexico and relax.

The perks of having a jet, you can be in one place to another just like that “you even got me the home I like, oh god. You’re the best, thank you” that is so sweet of her “I mean I rather you let me pay for this, it’s unfair on you” Mel waved me off “be quiet, you always take me everywhere and you pay for everything, you think I can’t do this for you? Don’t be silly, anyways you can have your phone back. I am sure you are bored without it” Mel banned me from my phone “thank you, I still need to keep an eye on him because he is my husband, you know” taking my phone from Mel “of course, just I didn’t want you to dwell on it you know” she has a point “and right on time” Chris is calling, he did say he would call me later. Answering the call “yes?” I rather he didn’t call me, I am not going to question anything including the face he didn’t call me either “I am sure your momma off the phone now” sitting down on the couch “yeah” I breathed out “I am just sat on the side lines, Drake has a basketball court in his home. It’s so dope” he hasn’t even mentioned the partying, he is so full of shit, I can’t believe him “nice, erm I am tired. You have fun there” I swear I can hear it, moving the phone away from my ear and putting on loud speaker, there is girls in the background, I can hear it “sure, are you angry with me? Look I don’t know that blog shit, they are lying” oh he knows “I haven’t seen it” I lied “aight, speak soon then” disconnecting the call, he knows I am off with him, he knows it.

I am not understanding this at all “I am sorry Mel; this is the last time I will speak on this but why is this girl there. She has seen my husband more then I have? She is constantly there videoing and taking picture of him, he is well aware. What is it? I do not like it; I am dropping it now but look. Just you see her story” Mel took my phone “after this stop” nodding my head, I am agreeing but I won’t be keeping off social media “let me refresh this page, she is from Canada. And she has a only fans link in her bio, oh boy” and Mel wants me to be calm, it’s killing me being this calm “her voice is so annoying though, how is she clinging onto Breezy so much, like she is doing the most too. Just watching this, I feel like Chris is just having fun. He isn’t being like anything, but he looks well. Skip, skip this” I really want to pop off, I really do “oh she is zooming in on Chris, mhmm oh ok girl. I get it, I see this girl having an agenda with Chris. She likes him, I see it. She is very much doing the most to get his attention, least they are actually playing basketball” Mel dragged out “so yeah, so shall we just relax?” relax, more like depression “bitch, we are going to a bar. Come, don’t care. I will get drunk on your behalf” Mel is trying her best, she would have been got my ass drunk by now but it’s a little different now.

#fanfiction #chriannaff #fanfic #chrianna fanfiction #chrianna #chrianna ff

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

Queen live at Capital Centre in Landover, MD, USA - November 29, 1977

(x)

A fan filmed the first couple minutes of the show on a silent Super 8 camera, but he was caught by a security guard and the film was confiscated.

Another fan recalls the band took a 30 minute break in the middle of the show, and started the second half of the show with Tie Your Mother Down. He also says they performed both Spread Your Wings and It's Late.

Here is a review of the show from the next day's Washington Post. It reveals that the band have swapped Keep Yourself Alive with Now I'm Here. The former now follows Bohemian Rhapsody in the setlist, as it had earlier in the year.

There is a great story on Brian May's website by Tracy Chevalier, who attended the show as a youngster:

It started with a champagne toast and ended with a limo pulling away into the night. In between these two gestures symbolising glamour and sophistication, I lost my virginity. Not in the technical sense (that would take another few years), but in other ways. At my first ever rock concert — going with four friends to see Queen at the Capital Centre in November 1977 — I got an eye-opening peek at elements of the adult world, with its power and its limitations, its glittering artifice and dirty reality, and it demonstrated how little I knew and how much I had yet to learn about life.

I was ripe for it; overdue, really. I had turned 15 the month before the concert, and though people thought I looked older than I was, I was remarkably naive and unworldly at that age. Despite a few character-building events in my childhood — the death of my mother when I was almost 8, the experience of being a minority in DC public schools — I was so unsophisticated, so unaware of the world, that I didn’t even realise Queen was an English band until the lead singer Freddie Mercury appeared in a tight white catsuit on stage at the Capital Centre, raised a glass of champagne at 18,000 screaming fans, and toasted us with “Good evening, Washington” in a fruity English accent. I was stunned. Then I started screaming.

I had been a Queen fan for a couple of years by then. A Night at the Opera was the first LP I bought, and I could sing every word of every song. I don’t remember how I was introduced to Queen — though I do remember hearing their biggest hit, Bohemian Rhapsody, on the radio and being impressed by its audacity. It sure beat the hell out of the Beatles, Bob Dylan and Neil Young, which had been my older sister’s staple music diet. By 14, I was writing Queen lyrics on the desk where I sat for algebra class, swapping them back and forth with a boy I had a crush on, and daydreaming of guitarist Brian May kissing me.

The concert was part of Queen’s News of the World tour. While not a great album, especially after the double whammy of A Night at the Opera and its follow-up, A Day at the Races, it did produce two of their best-known songs, We Will Rock You and We are the Champions, which drop-kicked them firmly into stadium anthem territory. Appropriately, the concert began with the lights going down and the primitive, effective, impossible-not-to-join-in-with BOOM- BOOM-CHI, BOOM-BOOM-CHI, BOOM-BOOM-CHI intro to We Will Rock You rolling over the audience. Everyone immediately jumped up out of their seats and began to stomp and clap along. I, too, stood and stomped and clapped, watching in awe as people began flicking their Bic lighters, a gesture I had never seen before. What, were they going to set light to something? I had tried not to act surprised earlier when people nearby started smoking grass in public, but now was there going to be a riot? What other illegal things would go on that night? Then a spotlight picked out Freddie Mercury, who began to sing, “Buddy you’re a boy, make a big noise, playin’ in the street, gonna be a big man someday . . .” and I thought, “Jesus H. Christ, that is the loudest noise I’ve ever heard! Is that legal?” The wall of sound terrified me, and I wanted to cover my ears, but I didn’t dare, as it would have been a very uncool thing to do. I think I looked around for the exit, wondering how many people I would have to climb over to escape the sound. It was just so goddamned loud — exhilarating, yes, but painful, too, dangerous and overwhelming. I wavered between loving it and hating it, but knew it would be uncool to hate it, so I’d better try to love it.

Towards the end of the song the single note of an electric guitar began to hum louder and louder under the chorus we were all singing and shouting, and Brian May stepped into the light to add his distinctive sound, ending We Will Rock You with low, long-sustain, three-part harmony chords, overlaid with a high melody he made fuzzy and metallic by using a coin as a guitar pick. I adored Brian May. He was the reserved, straight guy (literally) to Freddie Mercury’s camp high jinks — tall, dark, good-looking, with long curly hair and a melancholy pensiveness that made every teenage girl want to comfort him. At this concert he was wearing a silvery white jacket with long, pleated wing sleeves; that combined with his mop of curls should have made him look effeminate, but instead he was deeply sexy.

I loved Freddie, too, for his outrageous antics, his riskiness, his joy at performing and glorious indifference to how ridiculous he looked wearing glittery leotard jumpsuits, eyeliner and a mullet, prancing and strutting and posing, twitching his hips, smacking his lips and otherwise hamming it up. But even without being conscious of Freddie’s sexual preference — I hadn’t yet met anyone who was openly gay — I instinctively sensed he was not to be lusted after. For all his extrovert, welcoming stage presence, he was clearly playing a part, which served to hold us at arm’s length; whereas Brian May’s taciturn moodiness was clearly himself served up raw.

Thank God for Freddie, though. Without him, no one would have moved on stage: Brian May was not a dancer, John Deacon, in time-honoured bassist tradition, stood solidly in one place throughout, and Roger Taylor was trapped by his drum kit.

To set us at our ease, after We Will Rock You Freddie toasted us with a glass of champagne — “Moët et Chandon, of course,” after the reference in the hit Killer Queen. My friends and I heard this and screamed and clutched one another. He mentioned Moët et Chandon! That was our champagne! He was acknowledging us! I swear he made eye contact with me, 200 yards away and over the heads of thousands.

For we had done what we thought was the most original and extravagant gesture (for 15-year-olds) a fan could make: we had sent a bottle of champagne backstage. We’d pooled our money and gotten an older sister to buy it for us — the same sister who had been obliged to drive us all the way to the Capital Centre, smirking at our overexcited fandom. We’d even made our way to the stage door down a loading dock at the back of the arena and reluctantly handed over the precious bottle to a bored roadie, who said he would take it to the band. We’d had our doubts about his reliability, and his jadedness had dampened our enthusiasm a bit: had we really blown all that money — $20, which in those days meant 20 hours of babysitting — to have some unshaven jerk with a beer belly swill the precious liquid? But clearly the roadie had pulled through for us, for there was our champagne in Freddie Mercury’s hand, and he was referring to Moët et Chandon in his pretty cabinet, the lyrics we had so cleverly quoted in the note we sent along with the bottle. We were sure we — among the many thousands — had managed to get through to the band.

If we had bothered to look around rather than feast our eyes on Brian and Freddie (I’m afraid John Deacon and Roger Taylor never got a look-in from me), we probably would have seen other clusters of fans also screaming and clutching one another during Freddie’s toast. But we didn’t look around or harbour doubts, or we ignored them. It was only much later that I allowed myself to consider the veritable champagne lake that must have existed backstage at every Queen concert. Tip to rock stars: want a free truckload of champagne wherever you go? Sing a song that mentions some — preferably name-checking a more expensive brand to ensure better quality — and watch it pour in backstage every night from adoring fans. There must have been a hundred bottles from fans back there, not counting the stash the band may well have brought with them in case Portland or Houston or Detroit weren’t so generous. No wonder that roadie looked so bored — he’d probably been put on champagne duty that night.

Freddie’s toast worked its magic, though, giving me the connection I needed to negotiate a place within the strangeness of the concertgoing experience itself: the weird, scary power of a crowd; the mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment at collective participation; the physical discomfort of standing for two hours when there’s a perfectly comfortable seat behind you. It is one of those tricky, unresolved tensions at concerts: are we there to listen to the music or actively respond to it, participate as a group or answer our needs as individuals? It’s an issue I’ve never entirely resolved — from Queen onwards I have spent concerts going in and out of myself, losing myself to the music and spectacle one minute, the next minute overly conscious of myself clapping or singing or screaming, and wondering why concerts have to be such an uncomfortable physical ordeal.

I was taken aback by the sound of Queen’s music live: not just the volume, but the familiarity and also the strange rawness of the songs. Studio albums have all the mistakes airbrushed out, the layers added in, the balance between players carefully calibrated, like clever dialogue in a play without the awkward pauses and unfinished conversations you get in real life. Queen albums were highly produced, multi-layered affairs. Live, the music was necessarily stripped of a lot of the choral mixing, more raucous, simpler and much messier.

The band wisely didn’t dare attempt to reproduce in its entirety the long, baroque confection that is Bohemian Rhapsody. For the infamous operatic middle section, the band members left the stage as the studio recording played. Freddie and Brian then changed costume, and, at the word “Beelzebub”, all four men popped out of a door in the stage floor and joined live again for the heavy metal section, fireworks going off, dry ice pouring out, everyone going berserk, me in tears of excitement. It was one of the best live moments I’ve ever witnessed. Indeed, I was spoiled by seeing Queen play live before anyone else; for sheer exuberant theatricality, no one else has come close.

The concert ended with an instrumental version of God Save the Queen and once more the flicking of the Bics, which, no longer the virgin concertgoer, I understood now as a gesture of tribute. My friends and I weren’t finished, though. Emboldened by Freddie’s toast, we decided to go to the stage entrance again and say hello. I still choke with embarrassment when I think of it. When we got there, a black limousine was pulling away, our heroes and their entourage inside, and we were left with the detritus: older, dolled-up, hard-bitten groupies who had followed the band around and not made this night’s cut. I stared at one, at her long, bleach-blond hair, her miniskirt, her bright red lipstick. She glared at me briefly; then her face went slack as she dismissed the idea of me being any sort of competition. In fact, I had not really taken in that there was a competition, that the girls (and I?) were here to spread our wares and catch the attention of one of the men, and then . . . And then? I hadn’t thought it through at all. I wouldn’t have known what to do with such a man as Brian May if he even so much as looked at me. All I knew was that I was way, way out of my depth, that even if I had eluded the roadie minding the door, there was no way I was ever going to get past a woman like this.

The contrast between the sparkling theatricality of the concert and the gritty reality of the backstage, with its dirty concrete, anonymous faces and unfulfilled dreams turned my stomach, and almost ruined the night. I wished I hadn’t seen it, because it reminded me that the show was a fantasy, while it was my aching feet and the roadies’ boredom and the groupies’ hard desperation that constituted real life. As I stood watching the limo pull away and the unsexy women stand about, licking their wounds, looking for a ride to the next city and another chance, I felt as if a door had been kicked open a crack on to a world I knew nothing about: the seamy underbelly of the concertgoing experience, a mix of sex and power and exploitation, of cigarettes and poorly applied make-up and long, cold nights waiting to be noticed and defining yourself by someone else’s attention. If that was grown-up life, I didn’t want to know about it. I wanted the champagne toast, but not the limo. Not yet.

Fan Stories

“I had just turned 16 a few weeks earlier. I was absolutely 100% in love with Queen (since age 13 when first hearing Killer Queen on the radio) and therefore could hardly believe my sister's friend, who worked with her at the Roy Rogers restaurant at the mall, who said she knew Freddie Mercury's girlfriend, Mary, and that she was going to get a backstage pass and would try to get one for us as well. Well, just before the concert she met my sister at a pre-arranged point (inside the venue) and said that she was unable to get us the backstage passes. You can imagine my disappointment and my thinking at this point that this girl was not telling the truth about knowing Freddie's girlfriend (it seemed too good to be true to me to begin with). Then after the concert, which was great of course, we were depressed (my sister and I - but especially me) at not getting to meet them, so we decided to wait for their limo to come out of the underground parking area at the Capital Centre. When it emerged we got so excited we decided to sprint to our big blue station wagon and follow them. With my learner's permit only, I followed them at probably over 80 miles per hour - I remember it being the fastest I had ever driven but I was determined not to lose them - to a restaurant somewhere in DC. At that age, I didn't have my bearings around the city. We didn't want to freak them out so I think we just watched them go inside from our car. Then we ended up waiting outside in the cold air for I think around 2 hours - anyway - enough to turn my nose red and make my lips and toes numb. We weren't allowed in the restaurant - and there was a bouncer from Liverpool out front that prevented us from even going in the lobby to warm up. At one point Roger came down the stairs into the lobby and I smiled at him and he smiled back and started over to the door - but was stopped by another man who grabbed his arm. So then he just continued downstairs to the bathroom, and ignored us when he went back up the stairs. When they finally emerged from the restaurant, I was frozen in more ways than just the temp. Brian said, "It's a bit cold out here". One of them (I don't know who because I think I was in shock) said, "So, were you at the concert?" And we said yes. My friend who was hardly a Queen fan grabbed the attention for herself by shouting "That was the best concert I've ever seen!" or some such thing. I was so embarrassed not being able to think of anything to say in my stunned condition. Freddie looked at me briefly then looked over at my sister. He nodded at my sister but he never stopped walking to the limo. Brian walked over to me and said something like, "Did you enjoy the concert?" and I think I mumbled something like, "Yes. It was fantastic." Then all I could think to say was "Can I have your autograph?" He said "Sure" and ended up giving me the autograph and his pen. So I had to tap him on the arm to get his attention to give him his pen back. "Here's your pen." Can you imagine - here I am meeting my idols and all I can say is this? This all happened within about 20 or 30 seconds it seemed, and they all got into the limo quickly - they seemed pretty tired. I can't remember if they had one or two limos. All four of the members were there and I think a couple of other men - probably manager and driver(s). Freddie didn't say anything, just acknowledged us without a smile and got into the limo. John did the same. I remember thinking Brian was pretty tall. I stood very close to him. I am almost 5 foot 9 and he towered above me it seemed. Of course the hair probably added several inches! The best part of the story I guess is that my sister's friend, the one who knew Mary, said that when the band got back to the hotel they said there were some "nice working girls" waiting outside the restaurant. I guess they thought we were older - we were only 16 and 17 and still in high school of course. We were dressed very conservatively and with long coats.

My sister's co-worker said that she was good friends with Mary, because their families had been neighbors, and so was happy to get to visit with her. Also she said she thought that Freddie was the nicest member of the group, but very shy.” - Donna13

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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iwillbeinmynest · 4 years

Text

The Monte Carlo Job - Steve x Reader(f) Chapter 2

Authors Notes: Here comes Part 2 Y'all! I hope you are enjoying this series. I know it came out of nowhere but I was feeling sad and wanted to just post something so I started a new series, even though I haven’t finished my last one... Anywayyysss, Have some more Steve!

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes/Warnings: Your typical action/MI type trope. There is glitz and glam as well as running for your life and fighting to stay alive. Bad guys and allies, guns and galas. Mentions of death, one sleazy and creepy guy who makes one too many passes, use of guns, fighting, drinking, being framed for murder and clearing your name. It’s a wild ride folks!

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Y/N and Steve walked hand in hand back to the main floor of the museum where the actual Gala was being held.

The grand room was littered with tall tables and waiters with trays of glasses. There was a quartet in the back corner playing classical music and a small stage to the right with a lone microphone on it.

Bucky waved at them through the crowd and caught Steve’s eye.

“There you two are.” Nat smiled when they reached the table. “What were you up to, huh?”

Y/N shook her head. “Not what you think, we actually looked at the art.”

“Of course you were,” Bucky said. “Cause Stevie, here, wouldn’t dare do anything scandalous.”

“I would.” Steve defended himself. “I just happen to know the guy in charge of security and I know that all of the cameras are running.”

They chuckled.

“So,” Y/N looked around the room. “Who’s the target?”

Steve raised his brows as he scanned the floor. “Not sure yet. I recognize a few faces so I’ll have to make my rounds but I’ll let you know when I need a trophy on my arm to close a deal.”

Y/N smacked his arm and Nat and Bucky laughed.

“Please,” Y/N laughed, “If anything, you’re the trophy in this relationship.”

“She’s right.” Nat gracefully snatched two glasses of champagne from a passing tray. Bucky did the same. “You should hear the dirty things the women at our spin class say when you pick us up every thursday.”

“Excuse me?” Steve’s eyes widened.

Y/N laughed. “Oh come on, sweetheart. Girls will be girls, right?”

Nat held up her glass for a toast, “Here’s to another fantastic evening together. May we land a new client or have a blast tryin’.”

“Cheers!” They all raised their glasses.

* * * * * * *

Y/N and Nat usually stuck together and tonight was no different. They were standing a few tables over speaking with what Steve could only presume were other wives and girlfriends.

Steve and Bucky had been making their rounds, speaking with previous clients and making new acquaintances. These men were the richest of the rich, and that’s coming from Steve who lives beyond comfortably. The men tried to talk to Steve and Bucky about the military and people they knew that served.

It took Steve all he had not to roll his eyes, clearly these men had never seen war and the fact that they talked as though they had was infuriating.

“So, I say to the man,” A gentleman in an ascot smiled and waved his cigar around. “Either you pay me or I’ll send Howard!”

The other men around them laughed, Bucky and Steve smiled politely but shared a look.

“Well said, John.” Steve set a hand to the man’s back. “Excuse us.”

Both he and Bucky nodded and walked away from the table.

“I swear, Steve,” Bucky clenched his jaw and tried to take a subtle deep breath. “I don’t know why you make me come to these things.”

“I know,” Steve shook his head as they headed for Y/N and Nat. “But if I have to suffer, I’m not doing it alone.”

“I thought that’s why Y/N is here?”

“And make her listen to that crap, no way. I bring her so I can see her dolled up like that.” He nodded at his wife.

“We got lucky didn’t we?” Bucky watched Nat run her ring finger around the brim of her whiskey glass. She looked over and gave him a wink.

“That’s an understatement.” Steve smiled when Y/N followed Nat’s gaze and smiled at Steve.

Y/N and Nat excused themselves from the group of women and walked arm in arm to their husbands.

“You boys havin’ fun, yet?” Nat asked as she let go of Y/N and leaned into Bucky’s chest.

“Not at all.” He kissed the top of her head.

“How about you?” Steve asked Y/N.

She shrugged her shoulders, “Those women don’t know anything about what their husbands or boyfriends do. They’re just having a bragging party.”

“I wasn’t talking about prospective clients, babe, but I appreciate that your mind is on the company.”

Y/N smiled. “Well, you’re really gonna wish we’d landed one when you see the receipt for this dress.”

Steve closed his eyes and chuckled.

“Your girl has expensive taste.” Bucky teased his best friend.

“Nat picked it out.” Y/N clarified.

Both Steve and Bucky nodded.

“Now, see,” Steve grinned. “That makes more sense.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the side of Y/N’s head. “You ready to call it a night?”

“Yeah,” She smiled up at him. “I am.”

“Okay, then.” Steve held out his elbow and she wrapped her hand around it. “Shall we?”

As the two couples were making their way towards the exit, a man stepped out in front of them.

“Are you Mr. Rogers of Stealth Security?” The man asked. His Russian accent slowed his words but he spoke english well.

Steve held out a hand and the man took it in a firm shake. “I am. Have we met?”

“I’m afraid not.” The man straightened his spine and leaned his head back slightly. “My name is Petrov Lebedev and your reputation precedes you.” he grinned.

Steve raised his brows and lowered his arm, taking Y/N’s hand in his and squeezing it as an apology for staying longer. “Does it?”

“Yes. I have heard that you offer exceptional service in the matter of private security.”

A woman appeared at Petrov’s back. Y/N smiled at her but, the woman simply looked Y/N up and down then at Petrov.

Y/N was shocked at her blatant rudeness but kept quiet.

Beside her was another man, who could only be described as seedy. He was shorter than Steve but just as fit. His beard was stubbly and seemed to have a few scars in it where the hair no longer grew. He also eyed Y/N but in a way that made her squirm.

Steve didn’t miss that. He shifted his weight to land mostly in front of Y/N. “And who escorts you tonight?” Steve asked with very little patience, but he covered it with politeness to Petrov.

Petrov looked over and then back to Steve. “This is Sacha, my right hand and partner. And this,” He put an arm around the woman’s waist, tugging her forward. “Is Katryana.”

Steve nodded but didn’t address them. He turned to Bucky. “This is my partner, Bucky, and his wife, Natasha. And this,” he eyed Sacha hard, “Is my wife.”

Y/N straightened and tipped her head up. “Nice to meet you.” She made sure to only say that to Petrov, who hadn’t offended her, yet.

Petrov smiled then turned his attention to Steve. “I have an event coming up in three weeks in Monte Carlo and I am looking for a full team to escort myself, Sacha and Katryana around. I’m looking for everything from bodyguards to security during transportation and whatnot for the two days that we are there.”

Steve inhaled to speak but Petrov cut him off. “Money is no object and I assure you I can pay whatever you ask. Please, I want the best of the best and I have been promised that that is you.”

Steve recognized the touch of flattery but didn’t care for it.

“Well, how about I take your card and I will have my secretary check our schedule and see what we can come up with?” Steve offered. No way was he about to accept on the spot.

“Of course, of course,” Petrov smiled. “I do have one additional request though, which I understand might make a difference on the bill.”

Steve smiled and waited.

“I would like to see you there, personally. You can even bring your wife and make a trip of it, yes?”

Steve took a deep breath to unclinch his jaw and grinned. “We will consider it, schedule pending, of course.”

“Yes, of course.” Petrov pulled a card from the inside pocket of his coat. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” Steve took it and slid it into his pocket without a glance. “Have a good evening.”

Steve took Y/N’s hand and escorted her to the foyer where all four of them collected their coats.

“I don’t like him, Steven.” Y/N said with a sigh. It was rare that she spoke out against a client but there was something about Sacha that she absolutely did not like.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He stood behind her as a shield, separating her from the ballroom, “We can discuss it on Monday. Forget about him for now.” He took her hand and kissed her palm.

Bucky huffed. “If Sacha had looked at Nat that way, I’d have laid him out right there.”

Steve snapped to Bucky and glared at him, “You think I didn’t want to?”

Bucky swallowed and took a breath. He held the door open for Nat and then Y/N and Steve. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you would, I just-”

Nat put her hand on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. “Let it go, baby.” She cooed and kissed him quickly.

Steve walked away to pay the valet. Y/N walked half way and waited for him.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N said sincerely when the valet ran off to bring the car around.

Steve looked at her curiously, his frustration fading slightly, “For what?”

She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “All of that. Sacha, Petrov, Bucky. And you know he didn’t mean it like that, right? He was just as heated as you.”

“I really doubt that.” Steve grumbled.

“Steve,” She said his name with a tone that urged for his attention. He looked down at her. “I’m fine. Totally over it. He didn’t touch me, everything is fine.”

“He didn’t have to touch you, did you see-”

Bucky passed with Nat to retrieve their car and Steve inhaled sharply.

Just then the valet returned and handed the keys to Steve.

Y/N took his hands. “He loves you, and me. He just talks too much.” She offered a small smile.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He fiddled with the keys to his Tesla.

“Don’t be mad at Bucky for something you would have done if the situation was reversed.” Y/N added.

Steve nodded then pulled Y/N into a tight hug, kissing the crown of her head. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?” She looked up at him.

He leaned down, close enough to kiss her. “Fix everything.” He smiled against her mouth and kissed her softly.

Bucky and Nat approached calmly.

Y/N hugged Nat and Steve and Bucky clasped arms in a firm shake. Steve nodded to Bucky and Bucky nodded back.

“Have a good night.” Y/N said to Nat with a kiss to the cheek.

“We will, you too.” She smiled. Both of them were relieved to see the balance restored between their husbands.

Steve waved to Bucky as they walked off then turned to open the door for Y/N. She stopped close against him before she sat down into the car. “Thanks for protecting me.” She patted his chest.

He took her hand and held it over his heart, “Always.”

* * * * * * *

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Monte Carlo Tags:

#Steve x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers series #steve rogers #captain america #the monte carlo job #iwillbeinmynest #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #you x steve rogers #captain america x reader #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff

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talldecafcappuccino · 3 years

Text

Title: Between Close Friends

Rating: General Audience

Chapters: 1/1

Relationship: Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton

Summary: Ted is bad at social media, but is that a bad thing?

Ted, what the fuck are you doing????

Ted peers at his phone, rubbing sleep from his eyes and reads the message again.

He scrolls down and sees he has twelve more texts and three missed calls all from Keeley Jones. He turns off his nighttime notifications with a few exceptions for emergency contacts, so it’s not surprising he slept through the messages.

He scratches at the stubble along his cheek and checks his clock. It’s seven o’clock here in Kansas, so it must be . . . early afternoon in London. He thinks through the last day, but he can’t remember anything interesting enough to have Keeley on the case.

Henry came over to his extended-stay hotel, they went to an American football game, got a late dinner in downtown Wichita, and watched a movie before bed.

They did make it on the Jumbotron for the Lasso-off, the team’s half-time dance contest, but his moves weren’t especially embarrassing. At least not in his opinion. Unless one of the moves was actually an insult to the English in which case, oh jeeze, he needs to get on this quick.

The call barely connects before Keeley’s voice echoes in his ear.

“Oy! Ted!”

“Keeley, I am so sorry for whatever I did to offend the great people of the United Kingdom. I am ready to make a statement and an apology tour as soon as you tell me which dance move I need to retire immediately.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I need you to log out of the AFC Richmond Instagram account. Like, now.”

That stops Ted in his tracks.

Does he even have access to that? He remembers a post-it note of accounts and passwords from Beard on their first day with Richmond.

There was an account run by the previous manager, but Keeley had taken it over long ago, converting it to the official team account. She had also made Ted a personal Instagram for his own use and brand development, but he never posted publicly.

He puts her on speaker phone and opens the Instagram app. She’s right. He’s logged into the team account with all 25 million followers. Well, shoot.

There are about a dozen stories posted from last night. All of Ted and Henry’s day together. There’s puns (“having a cow” at dinner with an image of Henry holding up a beef rib and screaming his head off), Ted and Henry singing at a dueling piano bar, the two brushing their teeth together in the bathroom mirror.

“No offense, but I think this may delay the Tom Ford deal you asked me about.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

“It’s just, you know, dads aren’t quite their brand. Or our brand. I mean we’re not anti-dorky dad, but you know with the whole comeback narrative during the season hiatus . . .”

“No I get it. You’ve put a lot of work into rebranding this team and I just undermined that.”

She sighs, but it’s fond.

“Sorry, Ted. It’s not like what you posted was bad, it’s rather sweet actually. It’s just a little different from the posts I had scheduled.”

Ted nodded. It wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him, but he felt bad for making Keeley’s job harder than it needed to be.

“No, I’m sorry Keeley. I swear, it won’t happen again.”

****

“Can you believe what Ted did last night? I’ve never seen someone so bad at social media.”

Rebecca has no idea what Keeley is talking about when she walks into her office. She flops onto the couch, feet splayed on the coffee table, clearly exhausted by whatever Ted has done from 4,438 miles away.

“So many puns. Which, don't get me wrong, I love word play more than most people. But I don’t think it’s right for the team right now.”

Rebecca shuts her laptop.

“You’re right about puns not being part of the team plan, but what’s this about Ted? What did he do, exactly?”

Ted hasn’t posted anything in at least 24 hours. Not that Rebecca is keeping track.

“Oh he managed to switch to the team account on Instagram and posted about his entire evening out with Henry. It was quite sweet, actually. The ones that made sense,” but then she pulled a face.”He’s like, really, really bad at social media.”

Oof. Well that isn’t great, but Rebecca doesn’t think there’s anything particularly terrible about Ted’s social media use normally.

“But everything seems under control? No big PR actions needed.”

“It’s fine. I had him log out and wrote a post about Coach Lasso’s surprise social media takeover from America.”

Rebecca nods. Okay, so it was all sorted. Keeley has things totally under control.

But she reaches for her phone anyway. She opens Instagram, taps through the AFC Richmond stories, and snorts at the image of Henry with the rib as big as his head.

“Are people at least being kind?” Rebecca hopes Ted logged out without seeing any messages about Henry. Not that she could see any reason for it, but people were shitheads on the internet.

“Well, wanker is still the most common response. But many of them are wanker with a little heart at the end, so I think it’s fine. We actually got a lot of responses, proper engagement and all that,” she looks up at the ceiling, considering it for a moment before rolling her head to look back at Rebecca.

“If we weren’t trying to present the team as a badass phoenix rising from the ashes, I’d say a Ted takeover isn’t a bad idea. He just needs some supervision. Maybe a phone with a better camera.”

Rebecca is only half listening as she taps to the next story.

“Aw, they went to dueling piano night. That must have been fun for Henry.”

She’s smiling at her phone when Keeley asks, “Dueling piano night?”

“Yeah, you know at Jim Bob’s Bar.”

Keeley is looking at her blankly.

“Fine. I know it’s not really Jim Bob’s bar. It’s probably not even a bar if Henry’s there. But I can’t remember the real name off the top of my head.”

She’d looked it up once, after Ted first posted about the dueling pianos. For some reason she started calling it Jim Bob’s. Ted didn’t seem bothered and had even started calling it that himself.

When she looks up again, Keeley is staring at her, eyes narrowed.

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you know so much about some bar in Kansas?”

That gives Rebecca pause. She isn’t sure what Keeley means by the line of questioning.

“It’s not some totally random bar. Ted posts about it whenever he goes for dueling pianos.”

If he gets to the bar early or she has a particularly late evening, Rebecca catches the story before going to bed. When she does, she always asks him to put in $5 for Wannabee by the Spice Girls. She owes him a small fortune by now, but it’s worth it to see the bar explode with cheers and jeers.

Some nights she misses the story, but he puts money in anyways and she wakes up to a shaky video of, Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.

Rebecca thinks this is a good enough explanation, but Keeley is still staring at her.

“I’ve literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Keeley, you know social media is not my thing. All I know is that sometimes Ted posts about this bar on his tiny friends list thing,” she waves her hand around, trying her best to describe it. “The one with the green ring around it.”

Keeley leaps to her feet, eyes wide.

“Am I not on Ted’s Close Friends list??”

Before Rebecca can say a word, Keeley is halfway out the door, texting furiously.

“Roy, better not be on there, if I’m not on there. Ted knows how I feel about being left out!” she shouts over her shoulder. “Sorry Rebecca, I need to do some investigating, asap.”

Oof. She may have just created a problem. It’s probably best to give Ted a heads up before Keeley gets through interrogating Roy.

She drafts a text once, twice, then deletes it and presses call instead.

“Hey Boss, let me guess. Keeley got a hold of you?”

It’s been a while since they’ve chatted, what with the time difference. It’s bizarre how familiar his American accent has become.

“She just left my office, yes.”

There’s a loud crack in the background and a metal clang.

“Where are you?”

“Oh, just the batting cages with Henry,” he says, cheering loudly. “Hey, do you guys have a sport called baseball that has nothing to do with American baseball? You know, like football and football?”

She chuckles, “I don’t believe we do. However there is always cricket.”

He hums, considering it.

“Now Ted, I think there’s something you should know.”

“Lay it on me Boss. I know I caused a headache this morning, what’s the damage? What do you need me to do? I am at your disposal or I’ll lay really, really low as long as you need me to.”

“It’s not that Ted. It’s Keeley.”

“Keeley?”

“Yes, she’s on a bit of a mission at the moment. It seems you left her off your Close Friends list? I think that’s right. On Instagram?”

“Huh. How did that come up?”

“I was telling her about Jim Bob’s. Apparently she had never heard of it and realized you had a whole social media life she was unaware of.”

“Right . . .”

“So do what you will with that.”

“You haven’t talked to anyone else about this yet, have you?”

Rebecca is confused by this new direction.

“No. Why? Ted, is something wrong?”

It takes a long moment for Ted to respond.

“What can I say, I’m just really bad at this social media stuff.”

It's a non-response and an overly folksy one at that. But Rebecca can’t be fooled by the aw shucks routine—not anymore. She tries again.

“Ted. Who is on your close friends list?”

“Uh. Not a lot of people.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“What can I say?” He huffs, a little frustrated. She would feel bad for prying, but she can't help herself. “The list of people I want to share silly life things with is small.”

“How small?” she wonders.

“Very small.”

The line goes silent and Rebecca swears she lost him. But then she hears him take a deep breath.

“It’s you. You’re the list.”

Rebecca feels flush. That’s not where she was expecting this conversation to go.

“I know that might be a lot. You don’t have to say anything. I just, that’s the honest truth and I’d like to get ahead of it before Keeley harangues the entire team.”

It’s a lot to take in, but it makes sense. Sometimes when she’s watching his posts, she wonders about his audience. Who else cares about his biscuit recipe improvements or Broadway Sundays (a recent development that’s turned into a shared movie night.)

“Rebecca?”

She realizes she’s been quiet for a while. The moment feels tenuous and she worries about saying the wrong thing, sending him running faster than Keeley during a social media snafu.

Finally she settles on, “You know, you’re welcome to text me silly life things. It wouldn’t be a bother.”

She brushes invisible crumbs from her desk, listening carefully to his breathing on the other end of the line.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Maybe I can send some, too?”

Rebecca can hear his smile from across the Atlantic.

“Well, alright then.”

****

That night, Ted’s phone pings and he rolls over to see a text message from Rebecca. It’s a picture of the sun rising over her garden wall.

Something silly to start the day.

But it doesn’t feel silly. Not at all.

#ted lasso #ted lasso fic #some fluff #because a plot bunny got in the way of what I planned to write this weekend #I blame the Easter bunny #ted x rebecca

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mermaidxatxheart · 5 years

Text

Crazy in Love

So, it’s been a hot minute since I posted anything. I was having trouble with my external hard drive and even now I have to use my old, slow as shit laptop to post this. This one came from a story prompt given to me by @everythingisoverrated I hope you like it.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 8,681

Summary: An attack is coming from outer space. Big surprise. Another day, another dollar. Team Cap and Team Iron Man are joining forces, but Steve calls in someone from Bucky’s past to help with this particular mission. And Bucky isn’t happy about it at all.

Warning: Smut, anger, angst, violence, deadly injuries, and obviously swearing because it’s me.

IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, DON’T READ ANY FURTHER

“I dunno, Steve. This is crazy, even for you.” Bucky mutters, rolling up his scouting maps.

“That’s why I’ve brought in help.” Steve has a wicked glint in his eye and Bucky doesn’t like it one bit.

“By help you mean... Natasha? Or Wanda?” He asks, tucking his maps away.

“Uh, close.” Steve focuses on someone behind him. Bucky half turns and groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He starts to turn back to his best friend. “Steven-“

Shockingly, Steve is nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it, Rogers,” Bucky mutters. You approach and Bucky isn’t sure if he wants to take a swing at you or push you against the wall and kiss you like his life depends on it. You always have that effect on him.

Completely infuriating, but stupidly attractive.

“Hey, Buck.” You grin, your eyes dipping down over his body slowly before coming back up to his face.

“Y/N.” He replies through clenched teeth. Better to just stay stock still before his body does something his mind doesn’t approve of.

See, he knows you’re crazy. He knows that being around you is bad for his health, you’re gonna kill him one of these days. Either through stress or just straight putting a bullet in him. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you every time he sees you. He had to end your relationship months ago when he realized that while his mind said ‘stay away she’s nine pounds of crazy in a five-pound bag’ his body said ‘but the sex is amazing. She’s everything you want.’ You can’t have that kind of conflict in a healthy relationship.

And so he ended it.

And regrets it every day since.

“Looks like we’re gonna be work together.” You say, leaning against the table next to him. Your arm is touching his and he can feel the electricity between you two.

“Look, you just stay on your side of the field and I’ll stay on mine.” He grumbles. He doesn’t want to be any closer to you than he has to. He can already feel his willpower crumbling. “

If that’s how you want to play it.” You shrug and he feels a trap coming. He can feel it hanging in the air, he’s not sure what it’s going to be yet, but he just knows you’re going to trap him, you love your games.

“Great. That’s settled.” He turns and stomps away, making his escape before you can trick him.

“Any spare long-distance rifles I can borrow?” You ask, appearing right next to him. He tries not to flinch, to keep control at least outwardly. You don’t need to know that you startled him.

“In the armory,” Bucky mutters, having no intention of taking you there. You can find your own way.

“I love the armory.” You hum, stretching your arms above your head so your stomach is exposed.

Damn it, he’s not supposed to look.

He snaps his eyes forward.

“Remember the first time you took me there?” You purr, your fingers creeping up his metal arm. “You bent me over the table in the middle-“

“Stop.” Bucky clenches his jaw. His blood is simmering in his veins and he doesn’t want to remember that day, how fucking good you felt all wrapped around him, panting and crying out his name.

Shit.

“What will you give me?” You tease and his heart skips a beat in his chest.

“To stop talking? An-“ he cuts off, knowing he has to be careful with his words. “What do you want?”

“A little contest.”

There it is.

He fucking walked right into it and didn’t even see it coming.

“A contest?” He repeats.

“Yeah. We’re going to be killing alien bad guys all day, might as well make it interesting. Whoever kills the most wins.” You shrug like it’s the simplest thing in the whole world.

“And the winner gets what?” Bucky sighs.

“Anything he or she may want. Within reason, obviously.” You amend and he knows you threw that in for his benefit.

Once you win, and he has no doubt you will, you know he’ll be putty in your talented hands. He could just say no, walk away and that’s the end of it. He opens his mouth to say those little words, but what comes out is so fucked up, he can’t believe his brain actually allowed it.

“You’re on. May the best man win.” Bucky says confidently, already hating his life.

“I’m sure you will.” You purr, rising up on your tiptoes, kissing his cheek and opening the door to the armory.

How the fuck did he end up walking you here? The silver table in the middle is empty, so very empty. He knows where the camera switches are, he could easily disable them and show you once and for all just how dangerous it is for you two to be together, just like he tried showing you that first day in the very same room.

But it’s like you have no sense of fear or self- preservation. He’s not sure if he loves that about you, or if it terrifies him. He watches you walk into the room and you slide up onto the table, lithe and graceful like a cat and god damn it, he has to walk away before he bends you over it again.

He marches off to find Steve. What the fuck was he thinking? Inviting you here? He could just punch him in his perfect stupid face.

“Rogers!” He shouts, spotting his friend up ahead.

“Shit.” He hears Steve mutter, but the big blond knows he’s been caught. “Hey, buddy.” Steve smiles widely.

“Why her?” Bucky demands.

“Because next to you, she’s the best. And I need the best for this.” Steve says calmly. “You’re both adults, you can get along.”

“You don’t understand-“

“Buck, it’s done. I’m sorry but I can’t back down on this. You’re just gonna have to deal with it. Now, I have to go see Natasha. Go play nice.” Steve turns Bucky around and pushes him back to the armory.

“Jerk,” Bucky mutters.

“I heard that, punk,” Steve calls over his shoulder.

Bucky grumbles under his breath and heads back to the armory, his stomach churning into nervous knots. He hates that you make him feel this way and he hates how much he still likes you.

He enters the armory to see you sitting on the table. You’re leaning back, swinging your shapely legs, eyes closed like you’re soaking up rays at the beach.

“I miss your cologne.” You sigh as he enters.

He grabs a duffle bag, loading his ammo of choice. He’s determined to ignore you, to keep his head on straight. He hears you slide off the table, the creaking bringing back memories and he squeezes his eyes shut.

You step up behind him, your slender arms wrapping around his waist and shit, if you don’t fit perfectly. You seem to mold to him from any angle and he shouldn’t like that as much as he does.

“Stop.” He huffs, grabbing your wrists.

“I miss you.” You hum against his back, your fingers curling into his shirt.

“Y/N,”

“No one can ever treat me the way you do. They don’t even come close.” You moan, burying your face in his shoulder. Your nails dig into his skin and god help him, he loves the sting of it. He shakes his head, pulling your hands away from his body.

“Where’s your rifle?” He snaps, moving away. He can feel the scratches you’ve left under his shirt.

“The cabinet is locked.” You pout. He sighs and pulls out his keys, unlocking the rifle cabinet. You hover behind him, a grin spreading wide across your beautiful face. "Oh, look at these sweet babies!” You gasp, pushing past him and pulling out his rifle. He takes it from your hands, a scowl crossing his face.

This is the problem with you, no sense of propriety. “Can you please stop talking about assault rifles like they’re puppies?"

“How many can I have?” You beg, turning to him and grabbing his shirt.

“You can only use one at a time, babe.” He says, the pet name slipping out before he can stop himself. You don’t even argue and he knows he’s gonna regret that.

“I think I’ll go with the ArmaLite AR-50.” You say, lifting the massive thing out of its holding bracket.

“Are you kidding? That thing’s a cannon! Look at the fluted end.” Bucky scoffs.

“That end minimizes the recoil.” You say pointedly, but setting it back in its brackets. “You’re thinking too much about stealth. This mission isn’t about stealth, it’s about defending a city.”

“That’s a fair point. Well, what about the Barrett Model 98B?”

“The Bravo? Yeah, I like that one.” You lift it up and brace it against your shoulder. “Yeah, I like the way this one fits.” You say with a look at him.

“Don’t go there.” He turns his back on you, just as difficult this time as it was when he said goodbye to you the first time.

“Why?” You snap and he turns around. “I don’t get it, Bucky. I let you go before, thinking you’d get over your little tantrum and come back to me. You know it’s the right thing. But it’s been months. You can’t tell me you don’t miss me. No one can understand like me. Even Steve can’t.”

Bucky clenches his jaw, working the muscles there as he struggles to maintain some sort of semblance of control. He can feel it disintegrating as you speak. He knows you’re right, fuck, he knows it. It sits heavy in his chest, prickling at his nerves. And he can’t deny it anymore. It was easy to pretend he didn’t care, that he was mad at you while you weren’t here in front of him.

Fuck it.

He sets his rifle down at moves to the door. He hears you sigh loudly as he locks the door, disabling the cameras at the same time. He turns back to you and you’re right in front of him.

“Coward. You can’t even admit the truth to yourself!” You shove him back a step. Something inside him snaps, as it always does when you fight him. He shoves you back against the cage and, not giving you a chance to recover, kisses you. His lips are harsh and hungry against yours as he grabs your arms, keeping you in place. He growls low in his chest as you kiss him back fiercely.

You tug against his shirt, pull it off over his head, breaking the kiss for a split second. More clothes are discarded, your hands pull at his hair and he grips your thighs, lifting you up easily. You wrap your legs around his hips as he sets you on the table, kissing down your neck. One of your hands is braced against the cold table and the other is knotted in his hair.

You breathe heavily in his ear and the sound drives him crazy. He was stupid to think he could just walk away from you. He pulls you off the table and spins you around. Your hands brace against the table, your bare ass pushing back against him.

“Such a tease.” He snarls, pushing on the back of your neck and bending you over the metal table. He gently kicks your feet apart and lines his throbbing cock up with your slit. You bend your arm behind your back, grasping for his hand. He laces his fingers with yours and slams home. The table creaks loudly and you moan, arching back off the table. Damn it, you’re still so tight and fit perfectly around him. He holds still for a moment, adjusting to your grip and giving you a chance to adjust. You squeeze his hand, ready to keep going. He pulls his hips back and snaps forward, bottoming out.

You groan, resting your cheek on the table. He picks up speed, thrusting faster and faster. Your tight, silken walls spasm around him and he groans.

Fuck, you feel so good. A perfect fit.

“Harder.” You gasp, squeezing his hand hard.

Just like him, you like the pain, need it even.

He leans forward a little, his other hand fisting in your hair and pulling your head back. Your soft moans drive him insane.

The rest of the time you’re loud and brash and crazy, but here, despite the aggression between you, in this intimate moment-you’re soft and quiet. He could spend the rest of forever trying to figure you out and it still won’t be long enough. He growls quietly, a menacing sound and you clamp down around his cock, your mouth parted, breaths fogging up the metal table.

“Bucky,” You whisper, your nails digging into the flesh of his hand.

You’re close, he can feel it as you tremble around him. He switches up his rhythm, hard and deep, fast and hard.

Your entire body locks into place, muscles tensing as your legs shake, barely supporting you. Your breathing stops and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your cunt walls feel like they’re trying to force his member out, searing pleasure racing up his spine and burning across his chest.

He slams in, hilting inside you completely, his own orgasm rocking through him. His breathing is heavy as he hovers over you. He guides your arm back around under you and you clutch his hand to your chest.

After a few minutes, you both come down enough for him to pull out of you.

“Contest is called off, right?” Bucky asks, scooping up your bra. You laugh, taking it from him.

“Afraid you’ll lose?” You tease, retrieving your various clothes.

“Definitely. You’re way more competitive.” Bucky smirks, pulling on his pants.

“We were designed to be killing machines, sometimes the only way to survive is to make a game out of it.” You lean against his chest and press a kiss to his lips. “That’s something you always had a problem with. You have such a big soul.” You sigh, pulling your shirt on.

“You have a soul, too, you know.”

“Agree to disagree.” You shrug, gesturing to the door.

He grabs his bag and rifle with a huff and unlocks the door. He walks out to the hangar, feeling annoyed at you.

How can you say you don’t have a soul? He knows you don’t believe that, but after everything you both had been through, you just found it easier to shut out your emotions, even your relationship with him never felt... true. You were just having fun with him. He was crazy about you, and you just toyed with him. He marches onto the aircraft to find Steve and Natasha chatting at the front.

“You two work it out?” Steve asks.

“We’ll be working it out when we're two hundred.” He rolls his eyes. “Are we ready?”

“Almost. Tony, Rhodey and the others will meet us on site.” Steve says as you and Sam come on board.

Bucky avoids looking at you, settling into the pilot’s seat. Natasha takes her seat next to him, getting ready. He likes Nat, there’s an easy familiarity between them, both having such strong Russian influences in their lives.

“Who’s your friend?” She asks quietly.

Bucky glances over his shoulder at you; you’re watching him with Nat, and you don’t look pleased. “An old friend. We were in Siberia together.”

“I didn’t think any of the others survived.”

“She was out of cryo at the time.” Steve approaches them and rests his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. While he and Nat had been talking, a squadron of T’Challa’s warriors had boarded along with the king himself.

“We’re ready,” Steve says. Bucky and Natasha ready for take-off.

“Wish we could fit a couple of those rhinos on here,” Natasha says with a smirk and Bucky laughs.

“Right? Where’s that shrinking guy when you need him?”

“That would have been genius!” Nat punches him in the arm as they lift into the sky.

It’s not long to the abandoned city way on the outskirts of Egypt. They park out of the way of the field, Bucky setting down gently.

“When are you gonna help me find Rogers a girlfriend?” Natasha asks him as they get out of their seats.

“I don’t think I’m the best one to help with that. People aren’t really my thing anymore.”

“I dunno, Barnes. You’re still relatively charming.” Natasha winks as she heads for the exit ramp.

Bucky rolls his eyes, following after her. He slings his rifle bag over his shoulder and is about to step down into the sand when you brush past him roughly. He watches you jog ahead, tilting his head. He catches up to you, knowing he’s going to regret this.

“You okay? It’s a good thing to be nervous. Or, so they tell me.” He starts and you don’t reply. Not even a chuckle. “Y/N,” he starts, grabbing your arm.

You shrug him off, not even looking in his direction. “I’m fine, Buck. No nerves here. Just the heartless bitch.” You say coldly, pulling ahead. He slows down, your rejection stings more than he would like to admit. But what he can’t figure out is why you’re acting like that in the first place.

Steve stops in the center of the old square, tucking away his GPS. “This is the spot.”

“How do you know?” You ask, falling next to him.

“Two of our contacts figured it out. They’re good with this stuff.” He says. “I figure you and Bucky take positions on some of these taller buildings, Clint can find wherever he’s comfortable. We’ll take the ground. When Tony shows up, we’ll coordinate with them.”

“You trust this guy?” You ask and there’s an underlying tone in your voice. Bucky feels like maybe you aren’t really asking about Tony. He still gets a knot in his stomach when Stark is mentioned.

“As much as I trust Bucky. You two work it out who wants where.” Steve says with a slight nod to his best friend. Bucky glances at the tallest building, already crumbling from the raging winds and sand and heads off for that direction, you knock shoulders with him, heading the same way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bucky snaps.

“Heading for my spot.” You snap back, gesturing for his building.

“That’s my position. Go pick a different one.” He pushes you away.

You stiffen and punch him in the arm. “That’s a better spot for me. You go find a different one.” You demand.

“Bucky.” Natasha comes in over the earpieces. “Look to your right.” She says and you glare at the redhead across the plaza.

“Why?” You grumble, but Bucky looks and grins.

“Oh, good eye, Romanoff.” He says, moving behind you and off towards a better position for him. “You’re right, Y/N, that one has you written all over it.” He calls, heading for the new perch. His last sight is of you crossing your arms and scowling. He breaks down the door and makes his way up the tilting, winding staircases, his mind wandering to you. You seem to be extra difficult since take off. When he left you in the armory, you were still smiling and joking, but now you’re in a mood.

He doesn’t ever know what to expect from you.

He gets his rifle set up and swivels his scope over to where you are and checks you over. You seem to have gotten settled just fine. He flashes his scope and you reply. You’re good to go and his chest loosens slightly.

“Stark’s here,” Steve says over the comms and Bucky is glad he’s already in the shadows.

“Good. Because it’s starting.” Nat replies.

Bucky aims his rifle towards the sky and the brilliant blue turns to a dark, angry purple. Lightning streaks across the sky, thunder clouds rumble, and the sky splits open, revealing a whole new sky, purple clouds, bright stars, and thousands of spaceships.

Bucky’s stomach plummets and he looks over at you. A manic grin crosses your face and you look back at him.

-.. --- -. - ..-. --- .-. --. . - -... . -

You flash your scope at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about the damn bet.” He mutters.

“Holy shit.”

“Parker! Watch your mouth, don’t make me tell May.”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” There’s a moment of stillness as if the entire desert is holding its breath. The wind doesn’t blow, the sand doesn’t rattle against broken glass. The spaceships hover in the air for a count of thirty, Bucky counts them in his breaths. Then chaos breaks loose and Bucky doesn’t even have a moment to think. He burns through an entire box of ammo in ten minutes. You’re counting in his ear, racking up numbers, laughing so loud he can hear you across the square over the immense noise.

All of Bucky’s friends, and maybe some not friends, are taking on their own battles. There’s plenty of enemies to spare and more coming with every second.

He’s in the middle of dumping out a new box when he realizes he can’t remember when he heard your laugh last. What number had you been on? When did you stop counting out loud? He aims his scope over towards your post but he can’t see you. Your rifle is gone from the window and his heart slams to a stop in his chest.

“Y/N?” He calls on the comms. He gives you a few seconds to reply, loading his rifle again. “Y/N, sound off.” He orders, sweeping his scope over his teammates. He takes out a few stragglers, hating that he’s actually keeping a mental record. Still no answer.

He scans over your window again and sees you throw yourself out of the window, down the six stories to the sand and cobblestone below. His heart tumbles as the sparks of a pre-explosion catch his eye in the window above you. The actual explosion decimates the building and rubble falls down around everyone.

“Did you need something, Barnes?” You ask with a smirk up towards him. He rolls his eyes and continues firing.

“This isn’t gonna work. They’re just gonna keep coming unless we find a way to take them all out at once.” Tony says.

“Anyone have a nuke handy?” Steve asks sarcastically.

“Very funny,” Tony mutters.

There’s no more conversation for a minute and then Bucky hears footsteps behind him. He turns, pistol already pulled out and aimed at Natasha.

“Jesus, Nat.” He sighs, tucking it back in his holster.

“I have an idea.” She says, coming over to him.

“Oh yeah? On a scale of one to Australia, how dangerous are we talking?" He asks and she grins.

“Well, you won’t like it, but your girlfriend might.” She gestures out the window and Bucky looks down to see you staring up at them, your face eerily calm.

“Alright, let’s regroup with the others. Tell them your crazy plan.” He sighs, packing up his rifle.

“So, she is your girlfriend?” Nat presses.

“Not anymore. Let it go, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Bucky says, following her down.

“You broke up with her, right?” She guesses. Bucky slings an arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry about my relationship with Y/N and I’ll get everyone off your back about Banner.” He says quietly and she elbows him in the ribs.

“Fine.”

You, along with everyone else able to, gather in the square. “Okay, we’re here. What’s your big idea?” You snap, crossing your arms.

“They all seem to be centered around that big blue ship. I bet if you take that one out, the rest will fall, like bees or ants.”

“Didn’t realize you avidly studied bees.” You mutter and Bucky gives you a warning look.

“Makes sense,” Steve mutters. “As much as anything else, I suppose. Who goes in?”

“Me and Y/N,” Bucky says with a shrug.

You snap your head over to look at him, your scowl getting bigger.

“Why you two?” Tony asks accusingly.

“It’s the most logical. We can do it easily. In and out, no big deal.” He shrugs again.

“Fine. Go. How do you plan on getting up there?”

“Leave that to us. You just keep them contained.” Bucky says, turning away. He can feel Nat’s eyes on him.

“You know that’s a one-way trip.” She says quietly to him.

“Yeah but maybe not for both of us.” He mutters, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna be pissed if you don’t come back. Who else is gonna play pranks on Sam with me?” She says quietly.

He chuckles. “That last one was pretty good, wasn’t it?”

“Any idea how you’re gonna get up there?” She asks. One of the hover crafts they use zooms by and Bucky suddenly has an idea.

“Steve!” He calls, jogging over and grabbing your wrist along the way. “We’re gonna need a lift.” He says, nodding his head upward. Steve studies it for a minute before readying his shield.

“You sure about this?” He asks.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun.” Bucky lies. It’s not going to be fun, but it will be worth it to keep you at least somewhat safe.

“You got it.” Steve shrugs and hefts his shield.

Bucky doesn’t give you a choice, he pulls you onto his back and you tangle yourself around him with a huff in his ear.

“Worst idea you’ve ever had.” You whisper, sending shivers down his spine.

“Really? I thought you’d like it.” He grins, taking off at a run at Steve, leaping onto the shield at the same time that Steve pushes up. You cling right around his neck as he catches onto the bottom of a hovercraft. He grits his teeth as it pulls on his metal arm, the joint straining as he holds both your weights. He finds handholds and works his way back towards the end of the craft.

“You good?” He calls over the roaring wind.

“Good. Go faster.” You reply, gripping the front of his shirt.

“Go faster.” He grumbles. “You carry two super soldiers on a flying car as it weaves around.”

“I heard that.” You dig your nails in and he hisses. He hauls you both up onto the back and you climb over him, your boots digging into his back, his shoulders, his face.

“Oh, I hate you.” He groans, heaving himself up and over.

You’ve already kicked one off and you’re in the middle of fighting off the other one. You drag it away from the steering system and Bucky lets you handle it, slipping in front of the joysticks.

“I thought I was driving!” You shout, ducking a swinging limb.

“I’m a better driver!” He shouts back.

“That’s a bald-faced lie!”

“Remember Germany? ‘77! You drove us into a lake!”

“I took a wrong turn!” You kick it over the edge and move next to him.

“I distinctly remember you laughing!” He looks at you and you grin with a shrug.

“It was fun.”

He steers towards the big spaceship, flying low, hoping to avoid any kind of radar. He glides through a small opening and landing quickly off to the side. You leap over the side, not making any effort to hide or go unnoticed.

“What way?” You ask, glancing at him. Your tone is cold. You’ve never spoken to him like that.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking your arm.

You jerk it roughly out of his grasp, turning away from him. “I’m fine. Worry about yourself.” You snap.

“Y/N, did I do something?”

“No, you were predictably perfectly you.” You mutter, pulling out a small baton and flicking it down and out to the side. Silver metal plates link together to form a sleek, dangerous-looking Katana, your favorite weapon. It had been a gift from your previous Hydra handler, and as far as Bucky knows, you were the only Soldat to receive a gift, ever.

“I don’t understand.” He says finally. He’s leading you down a series of tunnels, looking for something to tell him the way. A door opens behind you and you shove your way inside, slamming behind you. Bucky tried to open the door, but it’s solidly locked, even his metal arm isn’t getting through. How can you be so reckless? He should be in there, having your back. That’s the whole point of being here together. Screeching noises and thuds of things hitting the walls are muffled as they come through the door and he has mental images of you slumped against the wall, one of the creatures towering over you, about to finish you off. The door hisses open and you step out, your katana and face covered in speckles of blood, guts, and gore.

“What the fuck, Y/N? You can be so reckless.”

You shove him back, your blade nicking his arm. “I don’t need your protection. I certainly didn’t ask for it. Just mind your own fucking business, Barnes. Stay out of my life!” You shout, taking off down the hallway.

His heart crumples in his chest, feeling hollow like a useless tin can, but he follows you nonetheless, doing everything he can to keep you safe as you grow more and more reckless.

You’re leading them further into the labyrinth, not heading for anything obviously useful. His stomach turns into knots, making him sick with each slice of your wicked blade.

“Y/N, stop, we have to find a way to destroy the ship.” He says finally, trying to get you to listen.

You’re beyond listening, your face a mask of rage and hatred. You clear out a room and Bucky glances inside, seeing something he can use to start a chain reaction. He darts inside and starts to quickly assemble a homemade bomb, quick and dirty. He can hear you outside, getting further down the hall and he knows he has to hurry. His heart is hammering in his chest as he messes up and has to start over.

Finally, it’s done and he rushes out to find you. He just follows the trail of bodies to find you surrounded by at least seven of the towering beasts. Even at your best, you can’t handle that many at once.

Without even thinking, he charges in, shooting the ones that he can. You cry out and he’s momentarily distracted, turning towards you to see you drop to one knee for just a moment.

“Y/N!” He shouts, and then there’s a moment.

Your eyes are on him and they widen slightly. He can’t hear any sounds at all, it’s like the volume has been turned off on the world. He’s sluggish, body reacting too slowly as he turns in front of him. A creature is there, a massive blade at the end of its arm. He can feel his body jolt on impact but there’s no pain.

He doesn’t understand. There should be pain. His eyes slide slowly down the creature’s face, torso, to its arm embedded in his body. His feet aren’t even touching the floor, dangling in the air.

He looks back up at it and suddenly, its head is gone. It crashes to its knees, jarring Bucky as his feet touch, but he still doesn’t feel any pain. And he can’t figure out what happened to its head. Then you’re there, tears streaming down your face as you cradle his head.

“Bucky,”

He can hear your voice again and he thinks it’s perfect this way. The one person he loves more than anything should be the last person he sees before he dies. The way it’s supposed to be.

“I’m so sorry.” You gasp and he tries to take your hand but he’s holding something.

The bomb.

“Engines.” He mumbles, trying to hand it to you.

“Bucky, please don’t leave me.” You cry and he smiles slightly.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His eyes flutter closed, but he wants to keep them open, to see your face until the very last second. “The engines. You need... to stop it... the assault...” he forces out, his breathing is shallow now.

“I can’t leave you.” You plead and he struggles to find your hand.

“For me? A last request.” He manages a weak chuckle.

“You’re not dying. You can’t die.” You demand.

“We’ll discuss your terms after...” he trails off. “After all, you win the bet.”

“After.” You repeat, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you, Bucky Barnes. Don’t you dare die on me or I’ll kill you myself.”

His heart swells painfully in his chest. “You love me?” He repeats slowly. He’s waited for years for you to admit that.

“You better still be alive when I get back.” You warn and he can’t help the smile on his face.

“Yes, ma’am.” He says tiredly. He’s so tired. He feels the pressure of your hand on his, a squeeze and then you’re gone.

***

Your heart is breaking slowly in your chest, like someone tearing strips of paper just to listen to the riiiip. You had been so stupid, so careless, just wanting to die at seeing Bucky, your Bucky, flirting with that red-headed tramp. Then he has the nerve to bring you up here on this suicide mission and you could just throttle him.

You were pissed and hurt and looking for any reason to get away from him, maybe get a little injured so he would be worried about you instead. But your half-baked idea backfired big time and now Bucky is dying.

Dying.

And it’s all your fault. A sob racks through your chest as you find the engine room. You take out the creature in the back easily and set up the bomb. Damn, he’s good. He left a port to attach it to as many charges as you can find or make. You rush around, grabbing things you would need, rigging up extra explosives to all the engine blocks.

Finally done, you run back over to the original one and look at how to set it up. Thankfully, he had installed a timer.

Unfortunately, he had set it for five minutes.

It had taken you ten just to get here.

“Oh, I could just kill you for getting hurt.” You mutter. You have no choice but to set the timer. Before the first second even ticks off, you’re bolting back to the hallway where you left Bucky. Your muscles are burning as you push them faster than you’ve ever had to before.

You might be super, but it’s still painful. You round the corner and see Bucky still there and you sigh with relief. You slid next to him and take his hand.

“Bucky?” You gasp. Your chest is painfully tight as you struggle to catch your breath. He doesn’t answer you and you freeze. None of your training prepared you for this. You weren’t ever designed to feel this way. You tentatively reach and hand out, checking for a pulse. Your hand is trembling and you force yourself to stay calm. Panicking won’t do him any good.

You feel a pulse, it’s weak, but it’s there. You only have a minute to get him away.

“Bucky? Can you help at all?” You ask, standing back up and tugging on his arm. He doesn’t respond and your heart sinks. You’re never gonna make it. It’s too far, he’s too heavy, you’re too tired.

You could just stay here with him, let this be the end. He’s almost there, you know you can’t do this in this world without him. Just let there be peace for you two at last.

But what about Steve? His best friend that went through hell and back several times to save Bucky? Could you really do that to Steve? Bucky’s still alive, and so are you. So you’re going to live. You heave on his arm and support his as best you can.

Shit, he weighs a ton. It never feels like this much when he’s on top of you. You’ve nearly made it back to your stolen ship when you feel something sharp in your side. You stumble, losing your grip on him as pain blooms up your side. You look down to see a slit. It matches Bucky’s but smaller. You glance behind you as your knees give out just in time. A blade whistles over your head as a creature stands over you.

You don’t have time for this. You pull out your handgun and shoot, aiming for what looks like the face. It goes down and doesn’t move. With a groan you get back to your feet, pulling Bucky with you. Just a little further. A little longer and Steve can save him.

Steve always saves him.

You shove Bucky over the side of the stolen craft, letting him sprawl on the floor. You can feel the explosions vibrating through the ship, ripping metal apart.

You pull yourself up and struggle to turn the hover around. How had he made this look so easy? You bump into another craft, a wall, some columns, and a dozen creatures before making your way out of the exit. You don’t have time to think, you’re running on pure adrenaline. You know as soon as you stop, you’re gonna crash. The analytical side of your brain knows you’re losing too much blood, but your body just keeps pumping it.

The shockwaves from the explosions shake your hover as you rocket back to the desert, the rip in space closing fast.

Looks like the redhead was right, this was the mother ship. It doesn’t make you like her any more.

You try not to crash the craft, but it’s like steering a refrigerator. One explosion of sand later, you’re flying through the air, tumbling into the earth.

“Son of a bitch.” You hear Steve mutter, heading for you. You can’t see him with all the sand in your eyes, but you point in the direction you think the craft is in.

“Get Bucky.” You say, knowing he’ll hear you. You carefully brush the sand out of your eyes and eyelashes, before trudging yourself to your feet.

“What happened to him?” Steve snaps as he and a guy with wings struggle to lift him out.

“It’s my fault, I went ahead, he tried to save me.” You stammer. You know Steve deserves the full story, but you’re so tired.

“He didn’t want you here,” Steve mutters as they carry him onto the ship. The redhead is there, helping. “I should have listened to him. I should never have forced him to work with you.” He says harshly, pushing you out of the way of the platform.

His words are like a knife in your chest. You know he’s right, Bucky hadn’t wanted you around, but you were so selfish and so one-track-minded that you didn’t care about what he wanted.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You say quietly.

“You’re damn right you are.” He snaps. “Nat, take us home.” He says to the redhead. The platform door closes in front of your face and someone pulls you back gently out of the way as it takes off.

“He will forgive, as soon as Barnes is okay.” A man says in your ear. His accent is African, the King of Wakanda.

“Maybe I don’t deserve to be forgiven.” You mumble. “He should save it for someone with a soul.” You traipse back through the sand to retrieve Bucky’s rifle, ducking inside the building he had used for cover.

If you close your eyes and pretend really hard, you can almost catch whiffs of his cologne. You know it’s not real, you know it’s all in your head, but it makes you feel better.

Just like it had on those nights when Hydra fought so hard to break you. When you could hear his screams five floors down and couldn’t do a thing to help. Just like when you’d see him after a mission and he wouldn’t recognize you, the Soldat firmly back in place. You sink against the wall, sliding to the floor as tears slide down your face. You close your eyes, pressing his rifle against your face.

Soldat, your Bucky, the man who got you through sixty years of a never-ending nightmare, and this is all you’ll ever have left of him. And so you cry. You cry in the privacy of the abandoned building. No one comes looking for you, you’re not even sure they saw where you went. Your heart shatters like broken glass as you realize Steve won’t ever trust you now, won’t ever let you near them.

You’d be better off just letting it end here. Bucky knows how you feel, that’s enough. You need to let him move on with someone who isn’t crazy. As long as it isn’t the redhead.

Anyone but her.

Your legs slide out and you can feel your pulse slow as your adrenaline runs out of gas. You close your eyes, finally able to see peace at the end of a very dark, very long tunnel.

Okoye

“How long are we going to let her mope?” She asks T’Challa.

“She just needs some privacy.” He pulls another alien carcass to the pyre.

“She’s been in there for twenty minutes, while we work!”

“Some emotions take longer to work through, especially if they are unfamiliar.” He raises an eyebrow. “While we work? Okoye.” He tsks.

“I am keeping my King safe.” Okoye grins.

“If you are so worried, go get her,” T’Challa says, waving her away.

Okoye scoffs and heads over to the building. She knocks respectfully as she pokes her head in, but you don’t look up.

In fact, you don’t even move. Okoye’s pulse stutters as she realizes something is very wrong. She nudges you with her foot and that’s when she notices all the blood pooling under you. She curses silently to herself.

“My King!” She shouts, kneeling down and checking for your pulse. It’s so weak she can barely feel it. T’Challa runs over, his brown eyes going wide.

“She’s not-“

“Not yet, but soon.”

“We need to get her back to Wakanda.” He says.

“I’ll take her,” Stark says. How he appeared behind them unnoticed will forever remain a mystery to Okoye.

“You can carry her?” Okoye asks doubtfully.

“Should be no problem.” He scoops you up, Bucky’s rifle slipping out of your fingers.

“Just a moment,” T’Challa says, removing two beads from his bracelet and pressing them into your wounds. “That will stabilize her for the flight.”

Tony backs out of the doorway and takes off into the sky. Okoye looks at her king with a frown. “Why wouldn’t she say something?” She asks.

“Maybe she didn’t know?” He shrugs and walks back to continue cleaning up.

Bucky

He slowly becomes aware of noises around him before his eyes open. He doesn’t want to open them at all. He was having the best dream he’s ever had and who would want to wake up from that? You had been over him, your hands so soft and gentle on his face. He was prepared to say goodbye, to let you move on as he floated somewhere, but then you told him you loved him and he didn’t want to leave.

He wanted to stay in this dream forever, here with you.

“Are you gonna tell him?” He hears hushed whispers somewhere far away.

“Are you kidding? He’d kill me. It would break him.” Comes the reply. It takes him a long time to realize that he knows those voices.

Sam has spoken first, then Steve.

“He loved her and now she’s... she’s just gone. How am I gonna break that news to him?” Steve says.

Gone?

Are they talking about you? Steve’s tone sounds so final.

No.

No!

You can’t be dead.

His chest hurts. He can’t breathe. His eyes fly open as he grabs his chest, feeling like his muscles are seizing up.

Heart attack.

Good, if you’re dead he doesn’t want to be here anymore. It was supposed to be him that didn’t survive, not you. You deserved a chance.

“Shit, he’s awake.” Steve curses and there’s a commotion. “Bucky! Breathe.”

He gasps in air, but his chest feels like it’s caving in. Steve grasps his hand, squeezing it just like you had, but for a different reason.

“Buck, come on, man.”

“Y/N-“ Bucky chokes.

“She left, she’s gone,” Steve says.

“Alive?”

“Very much so.” Steve sighs. “I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

Bucky feels his chest ease, but only slightly. He still needs to see you, to feel you in his arms. He finally looks around him, realizing he’s in a hospital wing. “How did I get here?” He closes his eyes, the memories flooding back. “She did it. She set off the bomb.”

“Yeah. She did it, and got you both home.” Steve grumbles.

“Where is she? I wanna see her”

“She left, two days ago. As soon as she found out you were gonna be okay, and after she healed.”

“Healed? She was injured?” Bucky sits up straight, ignoring the dull throb in his midsection.

“Easy, she’s fine now.”

“Steve, please? You told me to work it out. I have.”

Steve is silent for a few minutes, eyes closed, head hanging while he did some deep breathing. “Okay, where would she go?”

“How long before we can leave?”

“You need at least two days before you can get the all-clear. I won’t allow less than that. You were nearly cut in half.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I fell down a mountain. I’m pretty sure we can survive anything.”

Sam gives a low chuckle. “I see why you two are friends now. I get it.” He grins. “Makes perfect sense.”

“Anything I can get you in the meantime?”

“Morse transmitter. An old one.” Bucky says instantly. He has a sickening feeling as to where you’d go and he wants to get you out of there as quick as possible.

It takes Steve forever to find the transmitter and even longer for Bucky to set it up. “Where did you find this dinosaur?” Bucky asks, climbing carefully out of bed despite Steve’s protests.

“I’m not telling. You’ll just laugh at me. Just do what you have to do. We’ll leave tomorrow afternoon.” Steve leaves him to it, giving him privacy. He finds the right dial, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Y/N, I know you’re there.” He taps out. He gives it a moment for you to reply, but he gets nothing but silence back. “Come on, answer me.” He grumbles, rubbing his forehead.

“Fine. Don’t answer. You won’t like the consequences.” He sends, pushing the machine away. His heart is sinking but he knows he can find you.

***

“Shit. It’s fucking cold.” Steve’s teeth are chattering.

“You get used to it,” Bucky says darkly. He jumps down from the snow tank, his landing making little puffs of snow.

“You’re sure she’s here? She never answered.” Steve says. His nose and cheeks are red from the bitter cold, but to Bucky, it’s painfully familiar.

The way the wind bites into his skin, the cold leeches the heat from his joints and his metal arm aches where steel meets flesh. But the cold fresh air feels good, giving him some clarity. He’s been worried sick about you, about what he’d find when he finally makes it home to Siberia. Would you have healed from your injury? Or did you bleed out on the cold abandoned floors of your nightmare?

He forces himself to be smart, you would have booby-trapped the place to ensure you remained alone. He eases the heavy metal door open, catching the tripwire you have just inside. He disables it and moves on. Steve smartly stays behind him, letting the person who knows you best deal with it.

Twenty minutes later, he’s disabled at least fifteen intricately designed traps and saved Steve at least twice.

“Where are we going?” Steve whispers and it sounds so loud in the silence.

“Officer’s quarters. Always the nicest. No speaking from here on out. And watch where you put your feet.”

Moving forward is slow when he has to stop and disable traps every five feet. Finally, he disables the last one outside the biggest room. He can hear water running inside, you’re in the private showers. He vividly remembers the man who lived here. He always paid special attention to you and even back then it would make Bucky sick to see anyone touching you that way. And the fact that you chose this room over all the others pisses him off.

He motions for Steve to stay outside as he picks the lock. He moves silently across the room, he can see the steam billowing from under the door. He eases the door open, the heat washes over him, filled with your scent and his blood boils.

You have your back to him, clearly, you haven’t gotten in yet. Your pants are still on, you’ve pulled off your shirt and are examining your wound. The scar is ugly, jagged and red.

“Ow, fuck.” You hiss as he props his shoulder against the door frame. He watches you for a minute, relieved that you’re alive and okay. But then he’s pissed that you left.

“I’m hurt that you didn’t even wait for me to wake up before you left.” He says and you visibly jump, falling into the sink as you whirl around, covering your bare chest.

“Bucky!” You shout, slamming your hands down against your thighs.

“Really offended.” He repeats, his eyes trailing over you. “Especially now that I know you’re okay.”

“Yeah, well. Your best friend made it pretty clear I wasn’t welcome.” You shrug, rubbing your arm.

“He was just pissed. He’s over that now. Come here.” He holds out his hand for you. You, however, don’t step closer.

“He was right, Bucky. I’ve messed up everything for you. I almost got you killed. He was right to be mad.” You say quietly. “I bet he wasn’t even very happy that you came here to get me. Or did you sneak out?”

“He’s outside, actually. Now, get over here.” He demands, pushing himself off the frame.

“Bucky,” You sigh.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you gently against him. “So, while we were on the spaceship, I told you I loved you. And I think I fell asleep because in my dream you said it back and I just have to ask,”

“I love you, you beautiful idiot. Shut up and kiss me.” You grumble and he grins, his heart feeling lighter than it has in 75 years.

He wraps his arms around you and picks you up, kissing you deeply. He will never get over the feel of your lips on his. He knows now he was stupid to ever think he could just walk away from you.

He will never make that mistake again.

“Marry me.” He whispers, breaking away and pressing his forehead against yours.

“You’re crazy.”

“No. You were right. We make sense, we’re perfect together, meant to be. I won’t lose you again. I love you, I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. Marry me.”

“Finally.” You kiss him back and he grins against your mouth.

“Is it safe to come in?” Steve calls from the hallway and Bucky laughs.

“Yeah. You’re good, Steve.” He pokes his head in the door and smiles tentatively.

“Hi, Y/N.” He says.

“Hey, Steve.”

“So, what’s the word? Staying here? Going home?” He asks, rubbing his hands together. Bucky looks down at you and you smile back up at him.

“Let’s go home.” You say softly.

Tags:@everythingisoverrated @dsakita @shreddedparchment @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @alexblrus @thinkingsofamadwoman @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @septic-boye @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @moli1497 @ellaenchanted91 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @thirstybitchqueen @xxloki81xx @uncledaddykelbo

#marvel #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x reader #romance #mermaidxatxheart #crazyinlove #one shot #reader insert

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bltngames · 4 years

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SAGE 2020: The Usual Suspects

Hi, folks! Back when I used to work at TSSZ a lot of people really enjoyed reading my articles where I’d talk about various games at the Sonic Amateur Games Expo (SAGE), and I’ve gotten more requests in the last month and a half to continue doing those types of articles than I think I’ve ever gotten about anything else I’ve ever done before. So, here we are!

But I also need to be real with you: there are a lot of games at SAGE. It was exhausting enough when there were 70, 80, or even 90 games. Heck, the one year I wrote about 85-something games by myself, I sort of felt like I was going to die. This year, there are over 220 games at SAGE. It is physically and emotionally impossible for me to talk about everything, and it may even be impossible for me to play everything. Things will fall through the cracks. Most things, probably. Though I am responsible for basically inventing SAGE 20 years ago, I am also a human. I have my limits, and I am sorry it has to be this way.

Structurally, we’re going to be doing things a little bit differently, and you should expect this to be a little fast and loose. Since I’m not talking about every single game on the show floor, articles are going to be broken up into types:

“Usual Suspects” will be for games that either appeared at previous SAGEs or that I’m at least aware of.

“Fan Games” should be obvious, and it’s whatever doesn’t fall under Usual Suspects.

“Indies” is the same deal, but for original games.

And finally, there will be a “Honorable Mentions” article for whatever random leftovers I don’t cover in the first three articles. Looking forward to me talking about your game, but I don’t mention it? Tell me about it and maybe it’ll end up here.

Without any more delay, let’s talk about those Usual Suspects...

Sonic GT

Sonic GT has always been kind of a difficult game to control, but usually it just took a little bit of getting used to. There was always a period of adjustment, where you had to learn the game’s quirks. But, over time, I feel like the game is also just getting… quirkier. Every time I come back to this, I slam head first into the Sonic GT’s learning curve, and it always feels just a little bit steeper. This is one of those games that tries to fit a lot of abilities into a tiny amount of buttons. It works, but it feels like you have to memorize an operator’s manual. It’s all about figuring out which button to hold when to get what state. But, man… when it clicks into place, it’s still kind of magic. And, at the very least, the levels have all been reworked to take better advantage of Sonic’s high-flying, death-defying acrobatics. You’ve just got to be willing to learn. The real downside of this new version is the inclusion of a proper story mode -- I don’t have anything against having cutscenes in your game or whatever, but for the purposes of reviewing these games, some ability to fast forward through the talking heads so I could get back to the gameplay would’ve been nice. You can skip ahead in cutscenes you’ve already watched, but that doesn’t help when it’s your first time through. Oh well. So it goes. (Update: in the process of getting this article posted, Sonic GT has been patched to make cutscenes always skippable.)

Project SXU (Sonic X-treme Unity)

Another year, another Sonic X-treme recreation. This one’s interesting because it seems to be the most “complete” yet, offering the four most famous levels: Jade Gully, Crystal Frost, Red Sands and Death Egg. Intentionally or unintentionally, this also seems to replicate quite a few quirks we’ve seen in Sonic X-treme’s controls in the videos that have been released of the in-development build. Which means that it, uh, kind of sucks to play. I realize that’s kind of rude, but I’m sort of allowed to say that. 15 years ago, I was basically the only person on the internet that cared what happened to Sonic X-treme, so... I started contacting developers, starting with the game's producer, Mike Wallis. He lead us to Chris Senn, and that broke the dam on information about this game. Now, I don’t claim ownership over everything that came out of this, I’m simply saying I was the one who got the ball rolling. I watched the mystery of Sonic X-treme slowly get uncovered with as much intent as one could possibly have. It is a fascinating piece of lost media, but as a game… well, I think it got canceled for a reason. SXU shows us a clear vision of that, with a game that’s disorienting to look at and hard to control. Heck, if you’re using a controller, you can’t even use the analog stick -- you have to use a d-pad, leading to controls that feel frustratingly twitchy. But that's true to the experience. I probably spent almost as long in this demo accidentally slipping into bottomless pits as I did exploring its levels. Again, this more or less feels accurate to what we’ve seen in videos, though I do think Sonic probably feels a little too sensitive, here. Regardless, it’s still absolutely fascinating.

“Sonic Infinity Engine” Games

I’m cheating a little bit, here. This is technically three entries, but it’s in “Usual Suspects” because there’s been Infinity Engine games at SAGE for a few years now. Listen, it’s my site, my rules, and we’re playing fast and loose, baby!

Adventure Pack 2

This claims to be a “pack” of multiple levels, but the one level I played went on for over 25 minutes without showing any signs of ending. The level is… well, it’s the kind of stuff we’ve seen at SAGE for years and years and years, a space previously occupied by SonicGDK and BlitzSonic before it, where somebody is clearly starting out learning 3D level design, has some prefab assets, and goes to town creating a huge, intricate environment… that doesn’t fit a Sonic game at all. Too many tight spaces, too much enemy spam, and too much labyrinthine pacing. This is “Sonic Visits Anor Londo,” and while it looks interesting visually, it’s easy to get lost, or worse, killed because something isn’t functioning right. Like a lot of Infinity Engine stuff, it’s a bit hit or miss.... And now, also cramped.

Infinity+ Colorful Combat

The primary goal of this seems to be to update the Infinity Engine with extra features, something that I think is pretty welcome. The Infinity Engine is okay, but it’s missing a little bit of polish that the original developer neglected to give it before abandoning the project. This helps tighten some of that stuff up, while also introducing Wisp powers and more playable characters. Some of the new characters could still use some work, yet, but given the project is still in active development, that’s pretty much a guarantee. This could end up being the defacto version of the Sonic Infinity Engine.

Sonic Reforge: Red Ridge (Blockout)

This is what’s called a “Grey Box.” Rather than build out a fully-detailed level, you get a rough estimate on how the stage will flow before you put all the graphics in. What’s here is okay, I guess, but the level loops back on itself in ways that can be kind of confusing. There are a few places where it’s not really clear where you’re supposed to go next, and I spent several minutes running in circles. I’m also not a huge fan of the changes to Infinity’s physics; jumping off of ramps is a key part of the Sonic experience, but there are several places here where that doesn’t work -- to get the height needed to progress, you just need to roll really fast. It works, but it doesn’t feel like the Sonic I’m familiar with.

Sonic World DX

I have a bit of history with this game. Or, well, with a different version of this game. I wasn’t kind to some of the original entries at SAGE many years ago, but over time, they’ve cleaned the game up and streamlined it a fair amount. Now we have the “DX” release, a further cleanup effort splintered off from the main project, but to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what’s different from the previous release. The main version of Sonic World supports an absolutely gargantuan amount of content, with 50 playable characters and at least that many levels. It was big, and weird, and impressive. This demo ships with three or four playable characters and eight stages. Beyond that, there’s not much else to say -- it’s still Sonic World, though this release doesn’t work right with my controller. It picks up the controller binds from the main version of Sonic World, correctly assuming I’m using a DualShock 4, but none of the buttons are correct. When it asks me to press the X button, I have to press Circle for it to properly register. Not only that, but the right stick camera control is completely broken. Switching to an Xbox controller fixes the camera issues, but now the face buttons have the opposite problem: when it asks me to press A to jump, I have to press X. Throws my whole vibe off, like wearing your shoes on the wrong feet. The menus are bizarre, too -- while adjusting the volume, you can’t push left or right to adjust the levels, you have to use controller face buttons for some reason. This whole thing feels like I stepped back in time to 2013 in a bad way.

Sonic Freedom

I feel like I’ve been waiting to see a major development from Sonic Freedom for half a decade at this point. The art considerations for this game are no joke, and I do not envy anyone trying to make a proper high-def 2D Sonic game that looks this good. But, well… it’s another year, and there’s not a lot here. It plays fine, I guess -- the controls are decent, at least. The problem is the level design. Does this level even end? I’m not sure. I know previous demos for Sonic Freedom have had more than one level, but the stage you start out in here is a confusing, empty labyrinth with respawning enemies and a finite number of rings. You climb up and up and up, but eventually I reached what felt like a dead end. Visually it will always look incredible, but I’m wondering if it’ll ever actually become a game at any point in the future.

BraSonic 20XX

Here’s a strange blast from the past I wasn’t expecting. BraSonic is an old fangame from probably more than a decade and a half ago. It was so long ago that I can’t even actually remember if I played the old version of the game or not, but I definitely remember the name. What really throws me for a loop playing the 20XX version now is how much it feels like a game from back in the early 2000’s. The artwork, the sound effects, the locations, all of it makes me feel like I’m 19 again. Thankfully, this doesn’t play like a fangame from 2004; physics seem pretty solid, level design flows pretty well, and it generally seems to be fun, weird, and most importantly, unique. There aren’t many fan games here at SAGE that open with their first boss fight being against Sonic the Hedgehog. If you find yourself getting burnt out from so many Sonic fan games feeling same-y, this could be a good change of pace.

Sonic Frenzy Adventure

Maybe it’s the fact that this is the 20th Anniversary of the Sonic Amateur Games Expo, but here’s another very old fangame coming back out of the woodwork for an enhanced modern re-release. This game was a mainstay of the mid-to-late 2000’s SAGE events, after which it disappeared before being finished. Well, maybe it was finished. Again, a lot of this stuff was so, so, so long ago that this poor old man’s memory just can’t recall it. Seeing Frenzy Adventure back warms my heart, though. It’s an old friend in what has proven to be a very challenging year. Admittedly, parts of it still feel a bit mid-2000’s, but I consider those charming quirks. Throwbacks to a simpler era. At the very least, controls have been improved, so it does play better than the old releases did. Good stuff. Glad to see you again, dude.

Sonic Speed Course

This was a game that turned up last year, but in the kerfuffle I didn’t get around to trying it, even though I really wanted to. This is clearly a game inspired by Kirby’s Dream Course, but instead of Nintendo’s pink puffball, we have Sonic and friends. Whereas Kirby gained abilities by bowling through enemies, this adapts a more traditional Sonic gameplay structure of item boxes filled with shields and other powerups. But here’s my deep dark secret: even though I love Kirby’s Dream Course in concept, there’s a part of me that feels an intense hatred for that game. I have distinct memories of renting Kirby’s Dream Course as a kid and getting really far into the game, but trying to play it as an adult I’m baffled at how difficult it is. The main problem I have is that every stroke you take subtracts from your health, meaning you can only hit the ball so many times before you just… die. This makes for a very, very steep learning curve that discourages play and experimentation. Every shot truly, deeply matters and eventually I find myself caught in a death spiral and staring at the game over screen. All of this is replicated in Sonic’s Speed Course, which, much like with Kirby, I find myself drawn to like a moth to the flame -- only to come away feeling dejected and like I’m just not good enough. For fans of Kirby’s Dream Course, this is undoubtedly good news, as this means Sonic Speed Course is faithful to the tone of that game. But I find myself wishing there was a practice mode or something that let me play these courses without the punitive health system, because I’m ready to love them.

Sonic: Triple Trouble 16-Bit

When you write about so many games at SAGE every year, things start to blur together... a lot. I seem to recall that Triple Trouble 16-Bit last year was good, but had room for improvement. Well, this year, this demo feels… really quite good. I’ll admit, I was a little skeptical about remaking this game. Sonic: Triple Trouble was among the first batch of Game Gear games I ever owned as a kid, and while I liked the game, in my adulthood, I feel like I’ve come to appreciate Sonic Chaos more. But so much has been added to this game that it’s really come into its own. It uses Triple Trouble more as a jumping off point to become something fresh and interesting, and on top of that, this demo is pretty polished. This game was kind of always on my radar, but it’s really turning into something special.

Battle Cross Fever

Every year, I download this game hoping for some kind of single player offering, and every year I’m let down. Battle Cross Fever is a fighting game that plays a lot like Smash Bros., but contains elements that pull it closer to traditional fighting games like Street Fighter. It’s the kind of game that can check with the server to make sure you’re playing the latest version, but doesn’t have true online multiplayer -- instead advertising that you should use a piece of screen sharing software like Parsec to accomplish online multiplayer. In their defense, the few times I’ve used Parsec, it’s basically been magic for how well it works. But I just want, like… anything that I can play by myself. Even if it’s just a super basic arcade mode with brain dead AI, anything is better than nothing. But, I suppose, I am an outlier. Judging by the horrific character select music I landed on, Battle Cross Fever has enough of a community that they could get fans to sing along to “Ghost Town” from Sonic Forces -- which is a fun idea, don’t get me wrong, but when you have loud voices over cheap microphones, well… I hope you aren’t wearing headphones like I was. Anyway, this game’s always seemed solid, but I’ve also never played it with another human being, so really, I’m speaking from the perspective of admiring the diverse roster and all of the fun arenas they’ve ported in. Maybe someday it’ll get some single player content.

I’ll be back with another article… uh, eventually. In truth, I was only going to feature five games here, but it ended up being ten, so we’ll see how many are in future articles when we get there!

#writing #SAGE #sonic amateur games expo #review slew #sonic gt #project sxu #sonic infinity engine #sonic world #sonic freedom #brasonic #sonic frenzy adventure #sonic speed course #sonic triple trouble #battle cross fever #review

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