#treatment. so they have the opportunity to see her more than me. i dunno if they do tho. we dont really talk. i dont kno if they're as sad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

minhomas-tmr · 3 years

Text

The Lies I Tell Myself - Chapter 4

The plane ride was short but too much turbulence if anyone wanted Minho’s true opinion. Also the landing was terrible…

Bad flying or not, Thomas slept through it all, hair fluffed up cutely as he leaned on his side. Unknown to him, Minho at some point lifted the armrest between their seats, so Thomas ended up curled against Minho instead.

Seeing more than one person smiling as they passed them, had him soak up the misunderstanding since an actual relationship with Thomas would probably never happen. It was good to know however, that they were convincible enough to pass as a couple.

Minho understood where they were coming from though. Thomas hardly slept these days between homework and his family meeting Minho—so Thomas being adorable and snuggling in to get comfortable?

God help him, he had it bad. — “Ugh, how could you not tell me they were passing snacks, huh?”

“Shut your whining and grab the baggage would you?” Minho suppressed an eye-roll. “When we get to the hotel, I’ll call room service, okay?”

“Is that allowed?” Thomas asked as they followed signs for the exit.

“Yeah it’s all paid for. The to-be-family rich or something?”

“Hefty trust fund,” Thomas muttered unhappily. “It was a requirement for her,”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah, I know right?”

“No, I mean the car they sent to pick us up,” Minho pointed to the BMW with Thomas’ name on the plaque their driver was holding. “You sure she dislikes you?”

“She’s bragging.” Thomas insisted. “I’m only here because mom wanted me to be remember? Uhh…what are you doing?”

“Surely you know the concept of opening a door for someone else?” Minho couldn’t suppress the eye roll this time and gently pushed Thomas in when he just stood by it. As the driver started the car, he leaned in to peck Thomas softly on the cheek and thread his fingers through Thomas’.

He pretended not to notice his fake boyfriend’s face turn tomato-red. — “Not bad…” Thomas walked into their suite. “He must be really rich or something, if everyone’s rooms look like this…” When he turned to Minho, he was greeted with an annoyed look. “What??”

“You’re being ridiculous. She took sides sure but maybe, dunno maybe she’s trying to buy your love? Rich or no, only visiting family would get this royal treatment,”

“Maybe the fiancée suggested it?” Thomas offered.

“Quite possibly,” Minho smiled and weirdly that made Thomas relax, but there sure didn’t last, “Looks like we’ll have to order room service when we get back. I’ve laid out your clothes here by the way…”

Thomas grabbed the clothes and dashed to the washroom to change into his blazer outfit. He was acting like an idiot right now, but he would act 100% more idiotic if he had to watch Minho change.

By the time he was done, Minho was ready. Was there anything he didn’t look good in? Minho gave him a quick once over, “You look exactly like I thought you would,” he smirked.

“Fuckable?” Thomas blushed.

“Decent, clean and polite more like,” his flatmate approached him, casually fixing Thomas’ hair and he let it go on until he grew suspicious that Minho was teasing him now.

“If you want to touch me so much, you don’t have to only do it here remember? I’m your boyfriend. Or even…we don’t have to go to the brunch right? We can just stay in and get room service...”

“Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I gave into all your demands?”

Thomas turned to him, “A good one!”

“You’re lucky you’re white and cute, Thomas.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, you’re precious,” Minho pecked Thomas on his lips sweetly and turned around before he realized what he just did. Composing his face, Minho turned back around to Thomas staring at him wide eyed.

“Test run?” Thomas offered timidly.

Minho took it with both hands and ran with it. “Already feels natural doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,”

“Yeah.” Minho echoed. Shit.

“You look too fuckable for a welcome brunch,” Thomas swiftly changed subjects to a moderately safer one.

“Devour-a-ble would you say?” Minho’s sass was back.

“You’re lucky you’re hot! Because your jokes are seriously terrible.” Thomas eyed Minho’s lips, debated giving him a peck to continue the joke but he wasn’t that brave.

Or rather he was afraid he might not stop. “Which reminds me,” he said out loud, “brunch is tame. Maybe hold hands but no kissing?”

“Why? Forgot your lessons already? You want a refresher?” Minho teased.

“Unfortunately we don’t have the time…” Thomas sighed, “That would have been wayy more fun than having to see Teresa and the poor bastard marrying her. I don’t know if I should congratulate him or apologize,”

“Would kissing you shut you up?”

“Try it,” the words were out of his mouth before he even registered it. Minho had a calculative look in his eyes but turned away in the end, mumbling something about a watch.

Thomas mentally facepalmed. — Minho really did look devour-able and Thomas should have protested the outfit when he had the chance.

He couldn’t hide his smugness though, when as soon as he stepped out the car, Minho held his hand as they walked into the back gate of the venue, decorated in soft hues.

“So what’s the game plan?”

“Umm let’s see…Say hi to Teresa, make sure my mom does not talk to you, and get out right after we eat?”

“Wow Thomas. I didn’t know you were so keen on the promise of room service? Don’t know if they have flight snacks on the menu,” Minho laughed as Thomas pushed him away playfully. “And why keep me away from your mom? I’m great with people!”

“I know,” Thomas grumbled, threading his fingers with Minho’s absently. “That’s the problem. Everyone you meet manages to fall in love with you. My mom can’t fall victim to you too.”

“You’re making me sound like a serial killer,” Minho joked, “You fell victim too then?”

“I’m your boyfriend aren’t I?” Thomas rolled his eyes. They were still a little away from the crowd of guests.

Technically they didn’t have to put on their act yet, so when Minho paused for that millisecond, Thomas realized what he’d said. For once, he did a great job at convincingly pretending obliviousness. — People were looking at them. A lot. Thomas starting to feel self-conscious, leaned closer to Minho and gripped his hand tighter.

Though it didn’t show on his face, Minho bent down to whisper in Thomas’s ear, sounding worried, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Thomas admitted softly.

Minho tilted his head up slightly caressing his cheek. “I’m here. I won’t leave you,” He had no idea how much those words meant to Thomas, the significance of them, the difference it made. He relaxed...he was safe.

Minho threaded their fingers once more and Thomas walked in with more confidence, pointing to people he knew and titbits about them.

But the one person he didn’t get an opportunity to point out, was suddenly in front of him. Thomas’ smile slipped and Minho picked on it immediately.

“Thomas.” Gally completely ignored Minho and something about that irked him but he’d be cordial.

“Gally.”

“You know when I heard you were bringing a boyfriend, I was a little disappointed. I thought we could mend things, you know? But knowing you...you move fast don’t you?”

Thomas saw the malicious glint in his eye, before he turned to Minho, “be careful about this one..the next pretty thing and he’s gone,”

“Is that so?” Minho replied mildly. “And who are you? Thomas never mentioned you. Friends of the groom? Speaking of..I’d like to meet him. Do you know where we can find him?”

“Uhh..”

Gally was thrown off and Thomas suppressed his smile. Minho could definitely be intimidating on first meet. He exuded confidence and admittedly Thomas had a different reaction to most, but it was there alright!

“Hm. I guess we can find him ourselves..Gully is it? Nice to meet you Gully,” he smiled, then turned to Thomas. — ‘Wait here, don’t talk to anybody’ was what Thomas had said, but seriously it wasn’t his fault that there were only two other asians apart from him, and both were from the Groom’s party.

Minho wasn’t even sure why Thomas had abandoned him and didn’t have much time to ponder before he was joined by a boy with curly brown hair and a perfectly round face.

“Hi there,” he frowned, “I don’t know you. Bride or Groom’s side?”

Minho was a bit taken aback by the directness at first, but shrugged, “Boyfriend of Bride’s side I suppose,”

“You suppose? And who is this boyfriend of yours?”

“Thomas Editton,” Minho smiled cheerfully. “I’m Minho by the way,”

“Chuck. So Thomas?”

“Yeah, he’s an awkward yet surprisingly charming individual.”

The boy was downright frowning now.“I don’t know about the charming part…”

“Oh so you know him?” Minho whispered conspiratorially. “We kind of started dating by the second week of college, so any embarrassing stories you can spare? He has so much ammo on me because my friends insist on sharing every fail in my life, and I sort of need some, see?”

“I see,” The chubby boy seemed to be warming up to him and Minho looked into his soft brown eyes, feeling a famil—oh shit. Of all the people to spot him first, it had to be one of Thomas’ relatives.

“Well he has a terrible sense of fashion?”

“Oh boy am I well aware,” Minho looked around for his ‘boyfriend’ and seemed to spot Thomas the same time he did Minho. A quick look at Minho’s current talking companion and Thomas’ shoulders relaxed.

“What was that about?”

“Wants me suppressing my serial killer instincts,” Minho said without thinking.

“An inside joke I assume?”

“An inside one, yeah,” Minho laughed, but his eyes softened as he watched Thomas make his way towards them. “He’s something special that one…”

Chuck eyed Minho, “You really do know him, huh?” Minho pursed his lips, not sure what to say. “Well, as disaapointed I was at Thomas keeping you a secret for so long, I’m happy for you guys. Just be patient with him, okay?”

“Every day’s a struggle,” Minho joked, but Chuck didn’t seem to be teasing, so he quietened down.

“Thomas..he’s been through a lot, see. Teresa never believed him which is why that stain is here,” Chuck muttered darkly, “I guess I don’t have to tell you, cause you already know about the cheating and blaming and the..that.”

Apparently it was so bad, Chuck didn’t even want to say the word. From the titbits of what Thomas shared and his jumpiness, Minho gathered Gally must have been abusive in some way. He felt terrible for all the times he’d been impatient with Thomas’ intimacy issues.

“Honestly I didn’t think Thomas would ever get over it. I didn’t think he’d be able to trust anyone so soon…So thank you,” Chuck smiled softly. Minho didn’t know what to say so he just smiled back.

Minho stayed chatting with Chuck until a middle-aged woman joined them. Minho didn’t know what to make of this, but the look on Chuck’s face made him suspicious.

“You must be Minho I suppose. So what’s your major again?”

Minho was a bit taken aback by the swift jump in topic but he replied, “Yes, ma’am. I’m majoring in Kinesiology, specifically sports related. I’m…a part of the Varsity Track team but also taking a Minor in Art History,”

“Must be a struggle to balance so many things at once. College. Parties.” Okay definitely some scrutinizing happening.

“It was a challenge at first, yes. A lot of trial and error,” Minho smiled sheepishly, “but Thomas has been a huge part of why I found my balance…”

“Interesting…” the woman hummed and before she could get another word out, Thomas appeared it seemed out of nowhere.

“Mother!”

Minho froze. Oh shit. Luckily Mrs. Editton and Chuck were now focusing on Thomas, so he had a moment to adjust his expression.

“I-I guess you’ve met Minho then,”

“Seeing as you were going to take forever to do so, I thought to take the initiative,” she smiled. Minho couldn’t decipher if it was said in good faith, but it was definitely a tense one. Thomas fidgeted, inching towards Minho until it practically looked like he was hiding behind him.

“Are you surprised though,” Minho pitched in, wanting to save his pretend-boyfriend, “In his own words, Thomas is an awkward butterfly,” Minho commented dryly.

“It’s still a turtle, Minho!” Thomas rolled his eyes at him.

“But turtles are so plain. Butterflies are pretty. Wouldn’t you rather be pretty?” Minho said with fondness. Thomas had no right being this cute.

“I-uh..” Thomas stuttered, “I’m getting a drink—“

Minho snagged Thomas’ current wine glass. “Yes, thank you for getting me one,” he smirked as Thomas looked like he was two seconds from fleeing, consequences be damned. “Shall we?”

Thomas grabbed Minho and practically dragged him away.

“Good news is, Chuck survived my deadly charm—“ Thomas rolled his eyes, “—bad news is, you’re mom knows because of the way you were acting.”

“Yeah, yeah, so I’m not the smoothest cat in this game,”

“No. You’re a turtle.”

“What about butterflies? I thought turtles were ugly?” God help him, Thomas was actually pouting.

“You’re the one that wanted to be a turtle so bad,” Minho shrugged, leading him to the bar. “Oh good! Open bar,”

“Well now I can explore other options too, right? Should I get a beer?”

“You hated the beers, threw them out remember? Try the rum. No, no you peasant. The golden rum.”

“Mount Gay? You’re not as funny as you think, Minho.”

“Gay used to mean happy,” Minho shook his head, faking disappointment, “Besides, its expensive. Get it with coke though. You’re a lightweight.”

“When did you get so observant?” Thomas frowned but ordered Minho’s recommendation anyways. Minho avoided his stare, looking around the spacious lawn of the golf-course they were at.

“I think I found the groom,” he held Thomas by the elbow to a short freckled man with a polite smile.

“We didn’t talk about drinks,” Thomas insisted.

“Hush,”

“I—“

“Hi. I’m Aris,” A man wearing a hat that’s sign said: ‘Groom-To-Be’ In Case U Weren’t Sure’ walked up to them. “You must be Thomas and Meen-ho. Did I get that right?” he asked Thomas’ very real boyfriend.

“Good attempt! More like Min..like minutes. And Ho..like Christmas I guess,” Minho dimpled as Aris smiled widely. “Thank you for the suite the way. It’s quite generous.”

“Oh please!” Aris waved it aside, “You’re visiting family and immediate cousins. I do truly appreciate having you here, Thomas. I’ve heard so much.”

“Congratulations on getting married. Well..about to,” Thomas stated awkwardly. “Knowing Teresa there’s a running theme?”

“Yeah. ‘Expensive looking’,” Aris laughed at some inside joke they weren’t privy to. “Teal and white with ‘hints of blue’” he imitated Teresa so well, Thomas laughed.

“Sounds like Teresa,” Thomas shook his head. “Did she show you her album?”

“What album?” Aris looked intrigued.

“You don’t know?” Thomas turned to Minho including him into the conversation so he wouldn’t feel left out. “Teresa’s been building her ideal wedding since she was a ten I think. I didn’t get it personally…but I thought she’d at least use *some* of it for her actual wedding?”

“Ohh that album. No that’s more of portfolio…I’m surprised she didn’t tell you. Teresa’s a wedding planner.”

“Oh.” There was an awkward pause and Thomas looked at Minho to save him.

“The venue’s gorgeous!” was the best thing Minho could come up with. It didn’t help.

“We’re not actually that close…she’s closer to my ex. That’s who she probably told,” Thomas hunched his shoulders inward and Minho reached for his hand, squeezing it in assurance; it gave him a boost, “Well, same town so it’s expected right?”

Aris gave them a calculated look, smile dropping a little. “So you’re Gally’s ex.” Aris looked across the lawn, “Best not tell her about the room then…”

“Yeah,” Thomas said softly. He knew it, he ju—

“I’m sorry. About what happened between you two. I’ve tried, but she’s too close to him, she doesn’t see it. I apologize on her behalf,” he offered. Thomas was shocked.

“I like you, man!” Minho slapped Aris on the shoulder, grinning.

“Oh thank God, approval means sooo much to me! “You won’t believe how many people mentioned I’m shorter than her—like I don’t have eyes!” Aris was laughing now.

“I hear you dude. I may be the Varsity Captain but everyone needs that.”

“You’re a Captain? Urgh didn’t need to know that. If I saw a picture of you before, I would have said no because you’re upstaging everyone here!”

“Thanks for saying that,” Minho smirked, “Assurance is always good,”

“Doubtful my ass! He knows he’s hot,” Thomas interjected.

Minho slid an arm around Thomas’ waist and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He kept doing that—he kept being so sweet and it was muddling Thomas’ head.

Was it real? Was anything they did real? Did it matter? He had Minho here with him, right? Minho was his boyfriend right now, so he was allowed to do boyfriend things. Making up his mind, Thomas leaned against Minho’s front, grabbed his hand and zoned out of the conversation.

Minho would cover for him. — “Are you serious?” Minho’s disbelief broke Thomas out of his daze. He looked up at his boyfriend, then followed his line of sight, his own jaw dropping.

“What—“

“You try telling Teresa, dressing up like a fairy at the welcome brunch is a bad idea,” Aris didn’t even turn around, “She’s lucky I love her.”

Thomas snorted, he couldn’t help it. “You’re good for her,” he mentioned, when Aris turned towards him inquiringly.

Aris nodded and then a mischievous glint appeared and Thomas sensed trouble, “So when are you two getting married?”

“Wha—“ Thomas was speechless. Were they that good? At pulling this off? Why would—

“Hey, I mean bringing your boyfriend to any type of family gathering, but a wedding especially. I mean. That’s serious.”

Thomas felt faint.

“Woah, woah slow down,” Minho cut in. “Do you know how long it took Thomas to even decide to bring me along? He made three pros and cons lists! Three.”

“The first one was messy, I could barely read my own writing. So it doesn’t count,” Thomas pouted. This actually happened. He had after all freaked out after telling his mom he had a date.

“That’s because you’re writing is like chicken scratch,” Minho rolled his eyes. “Hey where’s your drink?”

“I forgot it somewhere. And no.” Thomas pointed to Aris. He held up his index finger. “Education first. Parents, second,” he pointed to Minho. “Family chemistry, third. Then fourth, marriage. Right babe?” Thomas looked up at Minho who opened his mouth but no words came out.

Aris looked between them and snickered. “Maybe ease off on the drinks, okay Thomas?”

“I think he’s tired from our trip,” Minho found his voice again. He smiled apologetically as Thomas nodded along. “Is it okay if we leave early?”

“Yeah, no worries.” Aris waved him off with a grin, “Just be there tomorrow.”

“I went through a painful process of getting us outfits for your events, trust me we won’t miss it,” Minho assured him, leading Thomas away. Thomas was clingy all through the car ride but the moment they stepped into the elevator he sighed.

“Thank God!! It was so boring. Two times she could have approached us and instead re-routed!”

“Rerouted..really, Thomas? What are you, a directions app?” Minho said as the elevator dinged, signalling their floor.

“You know what I mean!! And did you hear what he said? That if he’d seen a picture of you, he would have said no.”

“It was a joke,” Minho shook his head, swiping the key card.

“No. He stressed Minho. She protested me coming…” Thomas sighed. “What am I even doing here?”

“Showing off. That’s what you’re doing here.” Thomas glanced at him just in time to see Minho take off his jacket, walking towards him. “You’re here to show that the past is the past. That it hasn’t slowed you down.”

Thomas’ heart was hammering against his ribcage, Minho was so close. Decently close, not crowding close but his back was against the door and he had a crush on this guy, he was allowed to feel..whatever.

“You’ve upgraded.” Minho continued. “That you’re happy. You are, aren’t you? At college. With me?” Thomas gave a small nod, still not looking directly at Minho. “Shall we order your precious airplane snack cravings now?”

“I’m never living that down, am I?” Thomas sighed.

“What kind of a boyfriend would I be to just let it go,” Minho laughed.

“A GOOD one!!!”

— A/N: Hullo Lovelies!! Happy Happy New Year!! This chapter has been on my mind for forever and I’m glad I was able to finally complete it. it became a 3,500+ monster, so I’m stopping this chapter here for now, but moooore shenanigans ahead!! Like hmm..sharing a bed?

#thominho #thominho fic #thominho au #fake/pretend relationship au #thominho fanfiction #thominho ff #thomas tmr #minho tmr #tmr thomas #tmr minho #the lies i tell myself

9 notes · View notes

regular-lord-reckoner · 3 years

Text

just kind of need to vent some fears i have right now throwing this into the void style but

i know i desperately need to start therapy, have for a long time but i think i’ve realized this week why it scares me so much

it’s not that i’m so much afraid of sitting down and talking about...well, everything, but it’s that i fear my life getting better

i fear growing and healing and being happier because i don’t know what i’ll do when the next inevitable tragedy happens

i’m scared it’ll undo all my hard work or hit me ten times harder

i’m scared i’ll meet new people or even fall in love (fat chance) and something will go horribly wrong

after all, my parents both had pretty shitty lives for a long time but finally found happiness it seemed like and then...bam, worst fucking thing imaginable

and i get that that’s...life. i get that nobody gets to be happy and only ever be happy and i get that horrible things can happen to anyone at any time, regardless of whether they’ve happened before but i dunno

it just seems...safer this way?

like yeah, i’m deeply miserable and can’t wait to die but isn’t that better than actually enjoying life for a second only to be body slammed back into misery?

what if life’s got even more fucked up shit in store for me and i do all this goddamn work to overcome my trust issues and abandonment issues and just...all of it and then i just have something happens that’s almost as bad as the worst thing that’s ever happened to me?

i guess that’s...childish of me? stupid of me? silly and irrational? but i don’t know how to not feel that way when a massive part of my problem is that one day i woke up to a suicide by someone that promised me they’d always be there for me.

i already feel like i walk on eggshells all the time and am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop

if i hear a loud noise downstairs i don’t think, “oh, someone probably dropped something” or even just “what was that?” i think “dead. they’re dead. someone just died and you’re going to have to see it”

and even with all of that aside like...what life am i even supposed to have?

my parents need me. my dad’s old and has a lot of health problems so i’ve been taking on even more responsibilities around the house and that’s only going to increase the older he gets

their relationship has...deteriorated. it’s not constant fighting but it’s been enough that it’s also got me on high alert and i’ve had to intervene several times because i don’t want either of them to say some shit that’s going to really hurt the other and i also just don’t want them yelling at each other

i genuinely worry about what would happen if i were to move out, i feel sometimes like i’m the only thing holding this all together and like...yeah, that’s not really fair to me but at the same time too...i would have ended my shit a long time ago had it not been for them so i feel like...what choice do i have but to stay? might as well, right?

if i’m too chicken shit to get better because i’m scared it’ll all fall apart anyway then i might as well just stay stagnant and stay here and just take care of them and try to keep the peace as long as i can and whenever they’re eventually gone i figure if life’s okay i’ll just ride it out until the end but if not...well.

idk. i know that the obvious answers are here and i know what anyone or any therapist would say if i were to say these things. that i need to just get over this and learn to want to live my life for myself and not worry as much about what’ll happen because that’s not my responsibility

but i feel like i already let down one person i really loved in the worst way so i owe to my family to do this, to stay here and to help out however i can

and yeah, it’s not ideal but it’s at least the devil i know so it feels better than the alternative

the downside is i know it’s going to cost me everything else

i know nobody wants a fucking sad sack who won’t get her shit together and isn’t going anywhere in life

i know i offer little to nothing because i can barely muster up the energy to be enthusiastic about my own interests and just generally speaking i suck

yeah, i’m good for a laugh here or there but apart from that? that’s about it

i can’t seem to form any hobbies or do any activities that might be fun because trying new things makes me suicidal as shit when it’s supposed to be like...fun, but it’s not

i feel like all i ever do is bitch and moan and nobody likes that, that gets old really fucking fast and i know that

i don’t blame anyone for giving up on me or losing hope because i did this to myself and nobody but me can get myself out of this and well...i don’t know if i can or if it’s even worth it

so i just...don’t really know what to do

and maybe this is just my very bad brain at the moment and when i go back on my ~medication i’ll change my mind and want to actually get better, regardless of how terrifying that is, but i’ve spent this entire week crying my eyes out because the thought of it just feels so fucking overwhelming and impossible

i dunno. i’m sorry to anyone who reads this because i know this is... a lot, but i’ve been holding this in for a long time and this entire past year has really been hard on me

i try not to talk about it because i know it’s a bummer and i know it just pushes people even further away from me, but i don’t think it’s helping just bottling it up and pretending like it’s not all i can ever think about and again...i genuinely don’t know if i can do the therapy thing because...yeah

i also just need to get this off my chest because i haven’t said it on here or to anyone but i also lost my dog a few months ago

i genuinely don’t know what happened to him, i think someone may have straight up stolen him because some people moved out of one of the houses near us and i know he’d been going over there sometimes so i’m not sure if that’s the case, if it is i just hope they’re taking good care of him because he’s a very sweet boy who doesn’t deserve anything bad to happen to him

we’ve looked everywhere for him and we don’t have those people’s information and even if we did i doubt they’d admit, “oh yeah, we stole your dog!” so i’m really not sure but naturally the last time i ever saw him i was trying to do some work outside and i needed to just get it done but he wanted to play so i told him to just wait until i was finished and then i’d play with him, so he wandered off and that’s the last time i ever saw him

i’ve felt like such a fucking asshole over it and i’ll scroll through my phone looking for something and see pictures of him and i just...can’t. i still keep hoping he’s just going to reappear one day, tail wagging and wanting a hug

it doesn’t have as much to do with everything else but it’s just kinda like...damn, dude.

oh, and my grandmother has lung cancer and doesn’t want treatment so there’s also that

my relationship with her has broken down pretty badly so i’m not horribly torn up about it but i know it’s going to be hard on my mom and so like...even more reason why i feel like i have to be here, y’know?

idk. it just kinda feels like my life isn’t really mine and maybe it shouldn’t be because i’m not sure i can handle it, i’m not sure i can handle it getting good only for it to possibly get really bad again and i know that there’s always the possibility of it just...being okay and that maybe bad things will happen, but they won’t be traumatic and awful but...taking that risk just feels impossible and ultimately i don’t know that it’s worth it because at the end of the day it’s...me.

i figure i already inflict myself on enough good people who only deserve good things and if i’m to fade into the background of my stagnant life then that’s probably for the best because all i do is make things worse and needlessly difficult even when i don’t mean to so it’s not like i really deserve to get better anyway

i’ve rambled enough and if i keep going it’s just going to get more whiny and pathetic so i’ll stop myself but i’m hoping maybe like i said if i can just...put these thoughts here then maybe i can make it through tomorrow without crying?

probably not, but it’s worth a shot, i guess. again, this may just all be temporary given my current mental state, but i’ve also been putting off therapy for a long time since before this week as is so...not sure that’ll really change any time soon. i had almost worked up to just doing the damn thing before the pandemic happened and then...well. feel like i might have missed my window of opportunity if i ever was going to do it because in some senses i’ve gotten better at managing all of this, i guess, but in other ways i feel like i’ve just fallen even further down the hole and trying to climb out feels like it’s guaranteed to just get me hurt even worse so i kind of want to just stay down here.

i’m trying not to give up completely or be totally hopeless about the whole thing, but at the same time...yikes!!!

#need to just brain fart for a second i apologize #this is kinda dark so please don't feel obligated to read #i'll probably delete this soon i just have another shitty work week coming up and if i want to make it thorugh #without completely losing my mind i at least need to kind of feel like i'm talking to an actual human being #because i am not capable of that at the moment

4 notes · View notes

kiwilana · 3 years

Text

TouyaMight

sdkfjhsdkf listen don’t judge mE

this is a thread ive been writing on twitter since november,,,,,

--------------------------------------------

Pissing off his father always gave Touya the greatest thrill. To know he was the one to put the angry scowl on his face and the furrow between his brows, well, it brought him a sense of sadistic joy.

What? He deserved to give his old man shit considering all the fucked up shit he had to go through

So whenever an opportunity came up to fuck with the number 2, Touya took it.

Painting over the billboards that had his dad’s face? Kids play.

Ruining his costumes with bleach in very strategic areas? Amateur hour.

Bulk ordering All Might Merch to his agency? Done and done.

So when Touya joined his father and siblings at the most recent Hero’s Gala and saw the number 1 hero was also in attendance well…. He couldn’t just /miss/ a perfect opportunity like this! It would practically be a crime!

Fuyumi of course knew him all too well, he could see her bee lining to him, and he just /smiled/ and gave her a jaunty little wave, ignoring her calling his name as he sidled up to where the number 1 hero was conversing with others.

Touya could practically feel the heat of his father’s stare as slides in close to the blonde, one scarred hand delicately placed on a deliciously muscular arm.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve met before this, the name’s Touya Todoroki, it’s a pleasure to meet you All Might.” Touya flashes him his best smile, a soft curl of his lips and a fluttering of his eyelashes.

He knows he’s a sight, white hair styled back, slinky black dress with high slits, heels, and of course the multitude of burn scars covering a majority of his body.

Endeavor had nearly blown a gasket when he showed up like this, it was only the fact they were in public that kept him from scolding Touya.

“Young Todoroki! It is a pleasure to meet you! It’s certainly unfortunate we haven’t been able to meet before now, I do not often attend these sorts of functions!” All Might’s smile was wide and bright and Touya kinda wished he had a pair of sunglasses damn those pearly whites were shining in his eyes.

“It /is/ a shame huh? We could always meet up afterwards, I know a few restaurants.” The temperature in the room rose by several degrees and Touya could hear his sisters groan and Natuo’s muffled snort.

The conversations around them had fallen into startled silence at the fact the son of Endeavor, All Might’s biggest rival, had just asked the number 1 hero out.

All Might could only stare at Touya in shock, the offer of a date was unexpected and the hero couldn’t fight the flush that burned the tips of his ears, “I appreciate the offer young Todoroki but unfortunately I will have to decline.”

Before the white haired man could reply Endeavor is there, large hand wrapped around the slim arm and pulling him away, face positively thunderous.

“Maybe next time All Might!”

Touya laughed even as Endeavor dragged him out of the event.

Mission accomplished.

--------

The argument Touya and Enji got into once they reached home almost made the spectacle not worth it. Especially when the argument got heated enough and accusations thrown around that Touya’s tenuous control on his quirk slipped.

The dark burn across his arms didn’t even hurt, not really, and that was the bad part. It meant that he’d burned straight past a 2nd degree burn to 3rd and he was going to be stuck in the hospital /again/.

He hated being stuck in the hospital, he practically lived at the goddamn place. The whole staff knew him since he'd been coming there since he was young, how fucked up is that.

The pitying looks as they gave while they looked over his burns and decided whether or not he’d need another skin graft were so fucking annoying.

He hated all of it.

If he snarked more at the staff then necessary it wasn’t his fault really. The place was boring and stressful and he hated being stuck here.

There were never that many other patients for him to talk to, the hospital was a private one for top heroes and their families, so Touya rarely saw other people. Most of his day was spent chatting with doctors and nurses and bitching about the extra meal replacement drinks he had to take.

So when he noticed the frail looking blond man, he couldn’t help but be interested. The man was sitting outside in a hospital gown, and Touya took a seat next to him.

“Damn, what’d happened to you?”

At least the guy didn’t look offended, a win in Touya’s books honestly.

No, the guy snorted a laugh and gave Touya a surprisingly soft smile that made the gauntness of his face soften and Touya couldn’t help the thought that he wasn’t bad looking when he smiled.

“A fight with a villain unfortunately. He got a lucky shot in and damaged me pretty bad.”

“Damn that’s gotta fucking suck. Especially since you’re stuck in this boring as hell place now.”

That earned him another smile.

“Oh I don’t think it’ll be that bad, after all you’re here no? The man who asked out All Might is quite interesting I think.”

“Damn, so you saw me get rejected! Well, then you already know me, what’s your name? Since it seems like we both might be stuck here a while.” “I am Yagi Toshinori, it’s a pleasure to meet you properly Touya.”

-----

The next time Touya meets Yagi several days have passed by. He finds the older man slumped over in one of the comfier chairs, IV line in his arms and he looks absolutely /miserable/.

Touya can’t help but feel bad for the poor guy, he looks worse than usual, his tanned skin unhealthily pale and breathing laboured.

So he settles in next to Yagi, arms and legs thrown over the arm rests of his chair.

“Damn, you’re lookin’ worse today Yagi-san, what happened?”

The tall man blinks at his new companion, a small smile stretching across his face.

“Ah, we’re trying a new treatment today and well… it’s a bit taxing. I’m afraid I won’t be very good company today Todoroki-san.”

“Ah man, don’t call me that, makes me feel like my brothers or dad. Call me Touya.”

“Touya-san then.”

Touya fixes his eyes on bright blue ones and grins, he thought it would’ve been more of a struggle to get the blond to call him by name.

“Well, since you’re feeling bad, how about a story? Natsu and the nurses used to read me some when I was stuck in bed.”

He doesn’t even really wait for a response before starting.

“So you like, remember how I told you I asked out all might yah? Lemme tell you about it. So like, there’s this party, and dad wants us all to go because the public has been asking about his family and all that. And so I came to the party, dressed amazingly right. Like I got this bOMB ass dress. Dad nearly blew a gasket when I came in it."

Touya wiggles his fingers and arms, making motions as he tells his version of the events. The growing smile on Yagi’s face just made him be more dramatic with his storytelling and movements.

-----

"And there he is. There's All Might. The big kahuna himself. And my little brain gerbils start moving. And I get the idea. ‘How else should i make dad mad today?’ And that’s when it comes to me. ASK OUT ALL MIGHT."

“Wait was this before or after you kicked the guy who whistled at you?”

“After- so anyWAYS-”

-----

"And then the car explodes."

"What????!"

"Okay not really. Figuratively. Dad burned the roof again."

"Okay so maybe a little literally? I dunno english is hard."

"Touya were speaking japanese"

"Fuck"

-----

By the end of the story they’re both laughing and Touya feels light and happy as Yagi chortles at the selfie he managed to take while being dragged out of the party.

It was nice to see Yagi smiling again instead of hunched in on himself in pain and discomfort.

“Thank you Touya-san, your story really did help. You’re quite the story teller. I’d love to hear more of them from you.”

“Sure! I always love having a captive audience, it’s the drama queen in me. “

-----

Yagi is the one to find Touya next time.

He finds the younger man pressed in a dark corner under a staircase of all places.

He wouldn’t have even noticed him if he hadn’t heard the soft sound of sniffling, and his heroic heart couldn’t just leave someone that’s so obviously in distress alone.

It's a bit uncomfortable to climb under the staircase to settle next to Touya, listening quietly to his sniffles. It makes his heart squeeze a little and Yagi has to fight the urge to give the younger man a hug.

Touya eventually notices him, big turquoise eyes meeting his own blue ones, there's tears clinging to the corners of his eyes.

“Do you want me to call your nurse Touya-san?”

Touya shakes his head, lips pursing together before he drops his head down onto his arms.

“No. ‘S okay. ‘S nothing they can do. ‘M not allowed any more pain meds until tomorrow.”

The confusion on Yagi’s face has the unscarred parts of Touya’s cheeks flushing.

“I.. had some issues with getting a/ddicted a few years ago. They’ve kept a tighter control on my medications since then. ‘S kay tho. The pain’s not too bad.. I’ll get over it soon.”

“Then.. how about I tell you a story? Let’s see… there was this time when I was in America…”

By the time Yagi reaches the end of his crazy tale Touya’s smiling and laughing, pain forgotten for the moment.

“Honestly Yagi-san! How do you accidentally steal a penguin!”

“Ah well! That’s a mystery not even I know! And I was there!”

The tears on Touya’s cheeks were from laughter this time, and Yagi smiled so softly, a big hand reaching up to gently brush them away from Touya’s cheek.

And Touya /leans/ into his hand, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed into the warm and calloused palm.

Yagi can feel his heart race faster and his ears burn red at the serene face.

“Thank you Yagi-san… will you tell me another one…? It’s.. it’s a good distraction from the pain.”

“Of course Touya-san.”

The two of them spend hours like that, sitting under the dark staircase, Touya eventually leaning against Yagi’s bony shoulder, eyes shut as he listens to the deep voice rumble out tales of his times in America.

It’s how their nurses find them.

They’re practically frantic with worry considering the two have been missing for hours.

They get scolded thoroughly and before they separate Touya wraps one hand around one of Yagi’s own and gives him another one of those smiles that makes the blond’s heart race.

“Let’s have lunch tomorrow Yagi-san.”

“I would love that Touya.”

-----

It becomes a new part of their routine, meeting up together to have lunch.

The both of them were on pretty similar dietary plans, both meals were full of high calorie foods. Yagi explained it was to keep his weight up as he adjusted to the loss of his stomach. While Touya told the blond that his quirk burned through his calories so fast that if he didn’t constantly eat he’d easily end up malnourished.

They end up closer as the days turn into weeks. It wasn’t uncommon to find them together, sitting and chatting, even occasionally finding them leaning against each other, the fatigue taking hold as they napped against each other.

You could say the nurses had a field day with that one and took quite a few pictures. And if Touya and Yagi might’ve asked for their own copies well.. That was their business.

If Yagi had a picture of them tucked into his wallet no one needed to know.

And if Touya had his tucked into his desk drawer, that was for him to know.

Occasionally visitors would come for Yagi, a small old man, a rather plain looking man and occasionally a man he recognized as All Might’s sidekick, Sir Nighteye. Those days he wouldn’t see much of Yagi, his lunches were spent alone in his room craving the presence of the other man.

Yagi asked him about it, the day after he received Sir Nighteye as a guest again, and asked him why his family never seemed to visit him.

Explaining to Yagi that his father didn’t let his siblings come visit was… awkward. The frown that crossed the normally jovial blond’s face at his explanation made Touya feel…. Ashamed? Awkward?

He wasn’t quite sure honestly, but his cheeks burned and he rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to look into those piercing eyes.

So he didn’t notice when Yagi moved closer to him.

Not until those bony arms were wrapping around him, pulling him into a gentle hug, his bony chin resting atop the fluffy white mess that was Touya’s hair.

And Touya just /melted/. He slumped into those arms, cheek rubbing against Yagi’s shirt as he clung to the older man. He could feel the pressure building up in the back of his throat and had to blink back tears.

How long has it been since someone’s held him?

“It’s alright Touya. I’m here.”

The soft voice and warm hands resting on his back, it was enough, and Touya shook in those deceptively strong arms, soft sobs leaving him as his tears soaked into Yagi’s shirt.

They spent hours like that, Touya curled in Yagi’s arms, the blond never letting him go, even when his tears ran dry.

It was so warm.

Touya never wanted to leave his arms.

-----

Then the day came for Touya to be discharged.

He’d stayed in the hospital for over a month now. The skin grafts on his arms had attached properly and had healed enough that he could go home. Fuyumi told Touya that she’d be the one coming to pick him up, Dad was going to be at work and unavailable.

She told him she’d be there after school let out.

Touya felt something sink in his chest as the nurses removed his bandages for the last time. His arms were… hard to look at and he avoided it as he slipped on the loose long sleeved shirt. Touya packed away the few clothes he had, fingers pausing over the picture of him and Yagi sleeping against each other.

His chest squeezed tight at the thought of leaving. He didn’t want to leave the blond man. Ever since that breakdown in his arms Yagi had been so kind, the blond man was always touching him, lingering touches on his hands and shoulders, bringing him into hugs more often.

Touya didn’t want to lose that.

He… didn’t want to lose what connection he had with Yagi.

He didn’t want the blond to forget him.

He….

He liked him.

Touya had to find Yagi before he left.

-----

It wasn’t hard to find him.

When Yagi wasn’t in his room or with his nurses and doctors, it's a safe bet to say he’d be outside relaxing, and he was. Seeing him sitting there made Touya’s stomach flutter and fuck he felt /nervous/.

The smile Yagi gave him when Touya stepped towards him made his heart beat faster, he could feel his palms getting clammy with sweat. Fuck.Touya had never felt like this before. It was.. Overwhelming.

“Touya! It’s good to see you!”

How could one man be so adorable?

“Yagi… you’re.. You’re looking good today.”

Touya could feel the nerves twisting up at his insides as he took the offered seat next to the blond, the hot cup of tea Yagi gently pressed into his hands helped ground him a little. He could do this. He didn’t know if there’d be another chance.

“I’m being discharged today.”

Yagi’s smile shrunk and he sighed deeply, “So soon..? I’m going to miss seeing you. I’ve greatly enjoyed your company here Touya. It’s made my stay much more bearable.”

“Yagi. I…”

Touya trailed off as those bright blue eyes stared into his own, and he couldn’t help himself.

His scarred hands gently cupped sunken in cheeks and Touya leaned up, pressing his lips softly against the older man’s, just a soft press of their lips that made Touya’s stomach flip flop in joy and dread.

“Yagi, I really like you.”

Yagi’s stunned silence filled the small courtyard, beautiful blue eyes wide with surprise as a bright flush grew across the tops of his cheeks.

Touya thought he looked gorgeous.

“I. Well, I ah, I’m flattered Touya but.. I am many years older than you. I’m older than your father.”

/That wasn’t a no./

“So what? I don’t care about that Yagi. You /know/ that. I like you. I really really like you. I want to spend more time with you Yagi. I want, I want to hold your hand, I want to kiss you again, I want to eventually take you out on dates. I. If you really don’t, feel like that. It’s /okay/. I just. Fuck-”

He was rambling, his eyes squeezed shut and hands gripping his pants. Touya couldn’t put into words all the things he wanted. He just.. Wanted Yagi.

Larger hands gently wrapped around his own and Touya blinked watery eyes up, and Yagi was much closer now, mouth quirked in a small smile that made the white haired man’s stomach flip pleasantly.

“Touya. Is this.. Do you really want this?”

“/Yes/.”

And those lips were pressing to his again and the dread in his stomach disappeared as those big hands held him so gently, like he was something fragile and /precious/, and Touya clung to the taller man, pressing kiss after kiss to his mouth.

By the time they stopped they were both flushed and panting, lips swollen and wide smiles on their faces.

“Well then, I suppose you should call me Toshinori now.”

Touya laughed and kissed the man again.

“Whatever you say Toshi.”

#my writing #yagi toshinori #touya todoroki #looks away

5 notes · View notes

13lov · 5 years

Text

heaven. (m)

# pairing. manager!namjoon x idol!reader

# genre. late 90′s - early 00′s au, idol au, smut, fluff.

# word count. 5.5k+

# warning(s). house party [ alcohol usage ], smut [ soft dom!namjoon, virgin!reader, semi-public setting, fingering, edging/orgasm denial ], blackpink is featured within the fic along with jackson wang. | unedited as of sept. 13

# summary: being apart of the world’s biggest girl group had its struggles, especially when your members could barely stand the sight of you. it’s not all bad though, at least your manager, namjoon, is always available to comfort in any way you need him to.

↳ a/n. this is only part one 1 ! there will be multiple parts!

↳ m/l. fic masterlist | full masterlist

“So, that whole thing was a lie? We aren’t really getting a break?” Jisoo asks, being the first to break the silence after twenty minutes. Her eyes are still closed shut, patiently waiting for the makeup artist to add the final touches of her eyeliner.

Within this current situation, she was the one who had been least upset; maybe it was because it worked out in her favor.

You, on the other hand, were pissed.

When promised an extended break for the first time since you were a trainee, you were ecstatic to have the opportunity to rest, make time with your closest family and friends, and “enjoy the ordinary life of a young person in their 20s” as Big Hit had officially stated.

The announcement had only gone public a few days ago, and your publicist, Seokjin, already had an event scheduled for you and the rest of the group; a house party.

“You get a break from practicing and performing,” Seokjin mumbles, only slightly interested in the conversation as he flips through the tabloids in his hands, “but, we just can’t let the public forget about you five while you’re on break. We need to make sure you’re seen and out there.”

“Bullshit,” Lisa swears, standing up from the white plush couch, “after two months you think everyone is gonna forget the biggest group in the world?”

“Current,” Namjoon speaks, so quietly, you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been staring at him this entire time. He’d been considerably silent since the moment he entered the dorm along with Seokjin and a team of makeup artists. He hadn’t even made eye contact with anyone, not even you.

“What?” Lisa asks.

Namjoon clears his throat nervously, “You’re the current biggest group, that could easily change in a matter of time.”

“Don’t tell me you agree with Seokjin…” Jennie trails off from her spot on the couch, a hopeful expression on her face as she turns to face Namjoon.

His energy was completely off today, and in return, it was making you feel weird. Maybe it was because he had indeed lied about your group being able to take a break. A part of you hopes it was the company’s decision and not his specifically.

Well, with the number of times you’ve cried to him about you and the girls were constantly being overworked, you really were hoping this wasn’t his idea of a break.

“You’ll still get to rest, we just need you to do a few events here and there; little things,” Namjoon had been slowly walking towards you as he spoke, completely forgetting about the hairstylist who had been adding the finishing touches to your curls.

He stares at you, intensely, and you stare right back. His gaze his somewhat amused, and you wonder what had changed within him in the past few seconds. The discussion wasn’t going well, so there was clearly something else on his mind. But, what was it?

“Still giving me the silent treatment?” he whispers, only a few inches away from your face.

You remain quiet.

“Gonna have to open that mouth sooner or later.”

On any other day, you would’ve fallen to his commands in an instant. But, today was different. You just let his words give you goosebumps and call it a day.

You turn towards your hairstylist, who is staring at your manager with a confused expression on her face. Namjoon notices your gaze and follows it, then feels flustered that he had forgotten your hairstylist was right in front of him and had heard every word he said.

Namjoon clears his throat, standing upright, “To practice your singing, of course.”

The stylist shoots him a dirty glance but doesn’t say anything else. The scene had (thankfully) gone unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t involved.

“Why are we going to a house party? And, who’s throwing it?” Rosé questions, breaking her own vow of silence and letting curiosity get the best of her.

Seokjin and Namjoon exchange an amused glance that only made you and the girls worried. Even your stylists had their share of little giggles.

Your stomach was turning.

“I’m sure you all know Jackson Wang,” Seokjin says, earning a groan from the five of and an annoying smile on your publicist´s face.

Jackson Wang was a rapper, actor, and your current fake boyfriend...in a way. It was all Jin’s idea, of course; to the public, it’d look like you were only friends who were dating in secret. Doing little things like wearing one of his shirts out in public, making sure to speak at him and every public event the two of you had attended, and now, showing up to his house party where paparazzi would definitely swarm.

It kept the paparazzi on their toes, thinking they’ve caught onto something that was supposed to be secret. So, in a way, Seokjin’s plan was working. Everyone was definitely intrigued.

“Don’t make that face, doll.” Jin is standing in front of you now, a fake pout on his lips, “You, of all people, should be excited. Kim Taehyung will be there.”

Kim Taehyung was yet another boy who you weren’t interested in but had to maintain some type of relationship with. With you making your acting debut soon, there was a movie you had already been set to film. Some type of horror-romance movie with your co-star being none other than Kim Taehyung. You didn’t mind starring with him in the slightest bit, but there was speculation that he was interested in making your relationship more personal than professional.

“Oh, so it’s _____’s fault we’re going to this? So she can promote her stupid movie?” Lisa barks. You weren’t exactly offended by her questions, it kinda was your fault. As the leader of your group, you had been offered more opportunities than your other members. Did you think it was fair? No, not in the slightest. But, there was nothing you could do about it except ask that the other girls get opportunities as well. In return, it made your members act cold towards you. It was ironic in a way that no one liked their leader, you don’t blame them much. In fact, you’ve accepted the fact that they don’t like you and most likely never will.

“Watch your mouth,” Namjoon says, looking out of the dorm’s window to stare at the limousine parked outside. “You don’t think we forgot about the rest of you, did you?”

Jennie sits up in excitement, now fully ready to go, “There’s gonna be stuff for the rest of us to do?”

“Of course! What kind of manager would I be the leave you guys out?”

“I dunno,” Lisa speaks up with crossed arms, “that’s the way things have been for a while now.”

As much as you hate to admit it, Lisa was right; and Namjoon knows it.

“Play nice at the party and you’ll see what Big Hit has in store for you. Deal?”

There’s a reluctant silent, then, “...Deal.”

You had never even seen Jackson Wang’s house, let alone been to it.

It was a mansion, located in the middle of nowhere. A small part of you feels he has so much money and doesn’t even know what to do with it.

The drive to his home is long and quiet, the only sound being music coming from the radio. At your every attempt to make small talk, you were shut down immediately. There was no point in even trying anymore.

Finally arriving at Jackson’s house is a relief, though you hadn’t wanted to go in the first place. But, who knows? Maybe you will have a good time, though this was simply just a promotion opportunity.

From the limo’s tinted windows, you’re able to see the luxury cars all parked around Jackson’s fountain; each vehicle owned by some sort of celebrity. Paparazzi is already here, of course, not even letting their camera flashes slow down for a second. It’s overwhelming, but it was the price of fame.

The stretch limo comes to a halt and within a few seconds, the driver has made his way over to open the door.

Being closest to the exit, you move your leg to step out until Lisa stops you by putting her own leg over yours. “You always get out first,” she says, a smile on her face so paparazzi can think the two of you are having a friendly conversation, “let someone else go for once.”

“Does the order really matter that much?” You reply, copying her smile.

“It does when you’re always first,” she adds a friendly laugh to her smile before using her leg to push you back only slightly and step out of the car. Rosé and Jennie don’t even throw a glance your way as they slide past you, and you don’t expect them to.

Jisoo is the last to leave before you, but she pauses before she steps out, “It really isn’t a big deal, but she has a point.” Jisoo chooses not to look at you when she’s done speaking, deciding to slide out of the limo with a smirk on her face as if that little exchange didn’t just happen. You remind herself that even though she was the nicest to you out of your fellow members, she still wasn’t quite fond of you.

You take one last deep breath before stepping out.

Standing at the end of the line, next to Jisoo, you let the photographers take as many pictures as they wish. All while ignoring the questions and comments thrown at your each and every way.

Seconds pass, and Jackson has finally made his way through his crowd of guests to greet you properly. He gives a polite hug to each of your members and decides placing a kiss way too close to your lips is enough to drive the paparazzi crazy. His large hand finds the small of your back as he leans down to speak into your ear, “I’m glad you could make it.”

Looking up at him, you notice the purplish bruise on his neck. It’s faded only slightly, so you assume there was a terrible attempt to cover it with makeup, or the marking was a few days old. Either way, you definitely weren’t the one who had planted it there. And yet, everyone would think otherwise.

Fighting the urge to tell him that you didn’t have a choice to visit his party, you only smile and ask that he bring you inside.

His house is packed with people, nearly all of them being A-list celebrities; you wonder how Jackson is able to live a lifestyle like this and how different he is from you. Sure, you enjoy being famous, but not all the time. For you, it’d be nice to do something as simple as take your dog for a walk without being swarmed with cameras. Jackson, on the other hand, made sure the press knew when he was going to the grocery store.

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask out of curiosity.

“Who?!” Jackson replies, yelling over the commotion of people.

“Taehyung! Kim Taehyung! I heard he was going to be here!”

“_____, baby, you know it’s rude to ask for another man when you’re at your boyfriend’s house.”

“You’re not my--” the metaphorical jazz music in your head stops playing for a moment, “I just...he’s my future co-star.”

Jackson completely ignores you, letting the arrival of his best friend captivate his interest. The rest of HEAVEN has gone about in their own way, leaving you alone in a crowd of people you don’t know.

It’s ironic. It’s so ironic to the point where it’s almost humours.

You vaguely remember something about Jackson saying there would be snacks in the kitchen, so you navigate yourself to where the food would be. You’ll relax after you’ve had a bite to eat, right?

Everything that had happened since the moment you entered the kitchen (exactly one hour ago) had been complete and utter shit.

To reiterate, Jackson did have snacks in the kitchen: Jello shots. Nearly every single flavor of Jello in existence had made its way into his home. You’re pressured into taking one, then another, but you stop at three because that’s when Jennie walks in.

“We leave our leader for ten minutes and she’s already getting drunk,” she snickered, “that’s not very responsible of you, now is it?”

“Ease up on ‘er, Jen,” Taehyung suddenly enters. His outfit is laid back and casual, all black except for a red bandana wrapped around his hairline. He’s even more handsome in person than he is on screen, but you still find yourself thinking of Namjoon; wondering what he was doing while you got tipsy off of Jello shots.

“The break just started, she has a right to let loose if she wants to,” Taehyung adds, now pulling you into a side-hug. “How’s my future co-star doing?”

A high-pitched, sarcastic laugh sounds through the kitchen. You immediately recognize it as Lisa’s without having to even look.

“That’s not gonna last long,” she states, hopping up on the marble kitchen counter.

“What won’t?” Jackson asks, who had only been a few steps behind her.

“The two of them being co-stars.”

You’re confused by Lisa’s words, but you don’t ask any questions. You instead wait and see where she goes with this.

“And why won’t that last long? _____ is an amazing actress,” Taehyung compliments, nudging your side slightly to earn a smile from you.

“Oh, I agree,” Lisa replies, “she is an amazing actress. But, doesn’t this movie involve a sex scene with the two of you?” Lisa shoots you a devilish glance, and it takes everything in you to not let your jaw drop to the floor.

You already know where she’s headed with this, and you can’t believe she’d even stoop to a level so low for the sole purpose of embarrassing you.

“Yeah, so? We’re both adults.” Taehyung says with an arched brow.

“If this is about me, I honestly don’t care that there’s a sex scene,” Jackson adds, “it’s all scripted.”

Lisa waves a dismissive hand in Jackson’s face, “No one cares about you. I agree that _____ is an amazing actress. But, oh...she’s still a virgin.”

A short silence falls over the kitchen, and Lisa still looks amused. You take a second to note that even more people have entered the room.

“You don’t need to have had sex in order to film a sex scene, Lisa. As Jackson said, it’s all scripted; we’re being told what to put where and what moves to make. Even I was a virgin when I filmed my first sex scene.” Much to your surprise, Taehyung had been sticking up for you the moment he had arrived at Jackson’s home, despite it being your first time to officially meet in person.

“Yeah, but she’s gonna have to fake an orgasm, right? You can’t fake something you’ve never had.”

There’s another silence, and even Taehyung doesn’t speak up to defend you.

Everyone is at a loss for words. Even you.

“I...that’s...wow…” Jackson sputters, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe the information he was given. “You’ve never had one? Like, not even from--”

“Oh, my God,” you cut him off and realize how foreign your own voice sounds.

This entire situation was childish, you felt like you were back in high school. There are tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you’re trying to figure out if their tears from anger or sadness.

“This is just…” you began, but can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence. Your anxiety is at an all-time high, the walls feel like they’re closing in on you and every glance in your direction feels like a judgemental one.

You exit the kitchen in a rush, and without a word.

With a house as big as Jackson’s, it takes you a while to make it outside. You search for your designated limo in the darkness and finally manage to locate it.

Your steps towards the car start to feel far too slow as soon as the paparazzi from earlier see you and immediately pick up their cameras. You keep your head down and try your best to not get blinded by the camera flashes, but that doesn't stop you from hearing all the questions and comments being thrown your way.

“Hey, _____ ! Why ya leavin´ so soon, babe?¨

“_____! Are the rumors true? Does Jackson Wang have a sex dungen in his basement?¨

“Where ya headed, dollface? Off to see a secret lover?¨

The last question sticks in your mind as you enter the limo, closing the door as quickly as possible to avoid the paparazzi.

“Are the other girls coming?̈ ̈ The chauffeur asks, starting up the car ́s engine.

“No, just me wanting to go back to the dorm a little earlier than expected. You´ll have to come back for them later; I´m sorry.¨

“It's not a problem” he glances at you through the rearview mirror, “it's what I'm paid to do, remember?” He adds a comforting smile to his words before driving out of Jackson ́s parking lot.

Once you're halfway down the street, it hits you that no one had bothered to follow you out from the party, or make any attempt to comfort you when you were obviously in an uncomfortable situation.

Though Jackson was tolerable at most time, he still wasn´t someone you were close with regardless of what the media thought. You definitely hadn´t expected your members to follow you out, but, you were hoping Taehyung would be a few feet behind. Maybe he would follow you all the way to the limo and even get in with you. The photographers outside definitely would´ve made a show of it and created some other type of dating scandal. But in the brief time you had gotten to know Taehyung, you´ve already figured a dating scandal with him wouldn´t be too bad, plus, Seokjin would love it; it´d make for great promotion in your upcoming film with him.

But, alas, no one had followed you out.

Shortly after ‘HEAVEN’ had debuted, it seemed as though the other members formed an unspoken cult to hate you. The reason being so is absurd, you try not to let it bother you.

But it’s hard putting on a ‘girl power’ persona in front of the cameras then going back to being high school enemies when no one was watching. It’s hard knowing the ones that should’ve been your best friends mentally rolled their eyes whenever you spoke yet faked a laugh on the outside.

And it’s frustrating how no one picked up on their bitter and petty actions towards you; anytime you brought up the members not liking you to someone, they always dismissed it or assumed you weren’t being serious. Essentially, you’re alone. It’s ironic and honestly a bit humorous that you were among one of the most famous people in the world and yet, there was not one person you could go to with all your problems.

But wait, there is someone: Kim Namjoon, your manager. Any problem you had could be brought to him, whether it be work-related or personal issues, he was always there.

So, you decide to call him.

Beside you is your Louis Vuitton handbag and in it is your small, pink Nokia cellphone. You scramble to get it out quickly, having to work out the numerous amount of lip gloss tubes you were able to stuff in such a tiny bag.

Namjoon is first on your speed dial, right above your own mother, and he´s the first contact you press on before bringing the phone up to your ear.

¨_____?¨ he picks up on the fifth ring, ¨Is everything okay? Are you still at Jackson ́s?¨

¨Nope, something happened so I decided to bounce,̈ you reply. There's a lump in your throat from trying to hold in a sob, so you keep your voice as quiet as possible to avoid Namjoon from worrying. He already has enough stress on him, he won't have much time for your childish habits.

̈ ̈What happened?¨ he asks, and you immediately regret there was an event that took place that caused you to leave.

¨Uh...someone brought in coke and everyone started doing lines of it,̈ you manage to lie. Sure, you could ́ve come up with something else, but this one was believable with the amount of celebrity house parties that was surrounded by some sort of illegal substance.

¨Oh shit, fuck,¨ Namjoon swears again under his breath, and you question if your lie was a little too believable. ¨Well it’s good that you left, but did you leave the other girls behind to? That won´t be a good image. You can´t just leave your members behind like that, it´s not a good look as the group´s leader. Next--¨

¨Namjoon, please,¨ you interrupt, because you already feel bad enough as it is, and being scolded by the only person you can trust right now isn´t how you planned for this night to go.

¨Are you…?¨ He doesn't finish his question and decides to sigh instead, and you do the same.

¨Just tell the chauffeur to bring you to the office, and let the front desk know you´re here for me, I´ll have the door unlocked for you, okay?¨

He doesn´t wait for a response from you before he hangs up, leaving you with no choice but to go see him.

You lean forward into the front seat and tell your driver that your original plans for the night had changed.

“Oh, _____! I wasn't expecting to see you here so l--”

“Tell Namjoon I'm here to see him.” You cut off the receptionists’ enthusiasm with your bratty attitude. You feel bad for so blunt with her, but you’re not in the mood to deal with anyone that wasn’t Namjoon.

Your handbag swings in the loose grip you have it in as you make your way to the elevator, and the price of it reminds you how hard you worked to be able to buy something like that with your own money. All the countless nights you spent, practicing your singing, dancing, and language skills just to make it all the way to the top, and be completely alone there.

It was so pathetic.

You call the elevator down with the press of a button as the receptionists alerts Namjoon of your arrival. The trip to his office is short, and you ignore any and everyone who had made an attempt at speaking with you.

You knock on Namjoon’s door twice, and a faint ̈come in ̈ sounds through the wood.

He's at his desk when you enter the room, slouched over, writing something down as his phone is pressed against his ear. You notice how the platinum blond of his hair makes his skin pop, as if he were a glowing. His all white outfit helps with the fact that you believe he was truly your guardian angel sent down by God himself.

Kim Namjoon was beautiful.

He looks up at you when he heard the door shut, and his eyes glimmer when you make contact. He can't help but smile at your current state, a hand on your hip with your handbag dangling in the other, pink cat eye glasses pressed up against your eyes while an evident pout was on your lips; you looked like a spoiled brat.

He beckons you over with a wave of his hand, making space for you to sit on his desk. You stomp the entire way there, Namjoon takes notice and forces himself to hold back his laughter. He's focused on this call, so you take the opportunity to lean over and see what he had been scribbling down.

Heaven cute comeback vs dark comeback ??

Contact suga regarding songs for comeback

Late fall / early spring

Nothing written down makes any sense to you, but Namjoon seems to know what everything means as heś finishing up his call.

“Yeah, I’ll set up a meeting over lunch with Suga. Yeah...got it,” he writes something else down, “alright bye.”

He hangs up the office phone, sets his pen down, and looks straight up at you. “You don’t look so happy,” he comments.

“I’m not.”

“That's fair, but first things first,” Namjoon reaches up to carefully slide the glasses off of your face, revealing the black mascara that had been running along with the dark circles that surrounded your eyes. “Why are you crying?̈” His voice is so soft and caring when he asks, you can cry again just from how sweet he is towards you.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumble with a pout, staring down at your heels.

“Again, that’s fair,” he says, moving your legs slightly to access one of his desk’s drawers. From the cabinet, he pulls out a pack of facial cleansing wipes, and the fact that he has them doesn't surprise you in the slightest. It would explain his glow. “You’re gonna have to tell me at some point, though,” he takes one wet wipe from the pack before bringing up to your cheek, gently using it to caress and wipe at any leftover makeup until you were left completely barefaced.

“I’m crying because I´ve never had sex before.”

“Oh…”

“I’ve already told you a million times I want you to take my virginity.”

“_____, your virginity is a special thing.”

“Come on, Namjoon,” you groan, tossing your head back, “I’m twenty-one and you’re twenty-four; can we not talk about this as if I’m a child?”

“Then let's stop talking about it completely, babe,” ever so gently, he pulls you down only slightly to plant a kiss on your lips. As mad at him as you were, you can't help but erase all the angry thoughts the moment his soft lips collide with yours. You force yourself to pull away.

“Are you gonna give me more context on why you’re suddenly so upset about never being fucked?” He asks casually as he boots up his bulky, beige computer.

“No.”

“Okay then,” he smiles. You can tell he wants to know more, but doesn’t want to pry you for more information if you didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, he just watches his computer load up. “Have you eaten today?” Namjoon questions.

You think back to lunch, and remember that you, “had a salad for lunch.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

He shakes his head, sliding you a white container that had been hidden on the other side of his computer. “Eat up,” he says as you open the box to reveal a half-eaten cheeseburger. You stare at it for a few seconds without saying anything, causing Namjoon to roll his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you care about the fact that I ate half,”he says, typing his login information into the computer.

“No! It’s just...thank you,” you say picking the sandwich up and taking a bite out of it. Namjoon looks genuinely happy that you’re eating, you can tell by the way he’s staring, as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Are you gonna at least tell me why you wanted to go back to the dorms so soon?” he asks after a few minutes of silence, letting you peacefully eat your meal until you’ve finished.

“I was gonna cry for an hour then make myself orgasm since everyone seems to care so much,” you say honestly. Though it would probably take some time, you just wanted to get this “never-had-an-orgasm” mess out and away.

Namjoon is smart, so it only took him a minute to piece everything together and figure out what actually happened at the party.

¨I’m sorry, baby,” he says, putting a comforting hand on your thigh.

An idea forms in your mind the moment his hand makes contact with your thigh, and you call yourself a genius.

Placing your hand on top of Namjoon’s, you look at him for any type of response or reaction, but he doesn’t move; completely focused on his computer. Using your own hand, you move his up only slightly until his fingertips come in contact with the brim of your skirt. Still, he doesn’t react, and you grow frustrated.

You keep moving his hand until it’s on your inner thigh, and finally he realizes what’s happening.

He looks up at you, as if he were asking “you seriously wanna do this?”. Your response would’ve been “yes”.

Namjoon glances towards his door, aware of the fact that it was unlocked and not caring in the slightest. On his own, he continues the path up your skirt until his fingernail is lightly scratching at your clothed cunt, the delicate touch giving you the familiar sensation you had longed for.

He does this only for a few more seconds, eager at the fact that a touch so simple already has you soaking through your panties. And, speaking of panties, he slides them down only slightly, just enough for him to do as he pleases.

The pad of his thumb finds your clit, you try your hardest to keep your reactions to a minimum as starts to move it in slow circles. Namjoon changes his pattern every few moments, going from circling your bud to using his thumb to stroke it in a straight line.

His chin is resting in the palm of his free hand, and he’s watching you as if this entire situation was amusing. And, in his eyes, it really was. It was so easy for him to get you worked up; his words alone could make you wet. Namjoon wasn’t exactly the “secret lover” the paparazzi would’ve thought of (with him being your manager and all), but there really was no one else you could see yourself with.

There’s muffled talking outside of Namjoon’s door, and you’re suddenly snapped out of your daze. The talking continues on, and you’re worried whoever’s on the other side will be barging in unannounced in a matter of seconds. Even if Namjoon had completely removed himself from you in time, would you have a reasonable explanation as to why you’re sat on his desk? With your legs wide open? And panties on the floor?

Suddenly, you can’t even think straight; while you were in mild panic, Namjoon had slid a finger into you. Remembering there’s people right outside his door, you don’t allow yourself to make single sound. Namjoon is impressed with your actions, and his reward to you is a slow thrust. His long, delicate index finger does a stellar job at keeping you pleased for the time being. A second finger is added only seconds later, and you’re starting to feel stretched out.

The feeling excites you because maybe, just maybe, he was stretching you out to prepare yourself for him. His office isn’t exactly the place you imagined your virginity being taken, but you’ll settle for anything as long as it was with him.

The muffled noises outside is office are long gone, but you still limit the amount of noise you’re making. Especially now when his thrusts had gotten faster, and the look in his eyes had turned dark and full of lust.

A feeling forms in your neck, making its way up to your cheeks. You can’t find the words to describe it: like a tingling sensation with a little extra, and it feels so good.

“You okay?” Namjoon asks, noticing the change in your facial expression.

“Something feels...strange…” is all you’re able to make out.

“Where?”

Your hand taps on your abdomen, and you’re then aware of how weak your body feels. “Here,” closing your eyes, you reach up to touch the side of your neck, then your face, “and here. It feels good.”

Namjoon chuckles, automatically knowing what you’re speaking of, “It’s not a strange feeling, you’re about to have an orgasm.”

That catches your attention. “I am?!”

“Well,” he slides himself completely out of you, “you were. Not anymore.”

And, like you had felt earlier, there were no words to describe how you were feeling. Namjoon, however, seems like he just can’t stop talking.

“Remember earlier when you gave me the silent treatment? This was punishment.” He sets his attention back to his loading computer, watching the screen set up all of his important information.

“Maybe you finally get your reward if you act nice on your break.” He slides you a folded piece of paper, and written on it is everything expected for you to do while on your break. It was long and tedious, definitely a lot more than your members would be getting.

But, if Namjoon was going to make you cum as long as you did everything with a smile, you’d do the whole list twice.

#smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #bts smut #bts imagine #bts scenario #kim namjoon #kim namjoon smut #namjoon smut #kim taehyung #kim taehyung imagine #jackson wang #blackpink #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenario #kpop smut

632 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Ch 6- Shots In The Dark Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: Katie and Bucky head to the 99 to dig out some old case files that might help them on the case. Steve comes back to work, but he shouldn’t be there really, coz like he was banged up pretty bad. They go to a bar and there’s a fancy fireman called Johnny knocking around with the Nine-Nine crew. Steeby doesn’t like him…and it all kinda goes a bit wrong.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words.

Episode Pairings: ��Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (Yeah, it’s nice and friendly now…)

Song for Episode: New Rules by Dua Lipa

A/N: This entire series contains dark humour (CSI + Brooklyn 99=CSI Steeb) Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes. You don’t need to have read the SSB series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this off from so somethings might puzzle a few of you if you ain’t, but feel free to ask. Also, our knowledge of American Policing and Brooklyn is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

Enter the NINE-NINE! We’ve used a lot of quotes from the series, that we know are not in their original settings but just indulge us because dammnit, it made us laugh!!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List

Main Masterlist

“And the wanderer returns!” Jake Peralta greeted Katie warmly as he stepped out of the elevator to greet her at the front desk of the 99 Precinct Building. “Good to see you Jake!” She beamed, giving him a hug before she stepped back “This is Sergeant James Barnes, or Bucky.” “Pleased to meet you.” Bucky said, grasping his hand. “So how’s DC treating you?” Jake asked as they stepped into the elevator. “Not bad.” Katie shrugged “The work is good but, well it’s not home ya know?” Bucky shot her a side glance, that was the first time he had heard her admit that she missed Brooklyn, and he had a feeling that her reconciliation with Steve had something to do with it. “Well you know what they say?” Peralta smiled “You can take the girl outta Brooklyn” “And then bring her back” Bucky quipped, earning him a dig in his ribs. The elevator door opened and they stepped out into the open plan office and Bucky winced at the cacophony of noise that hit his ears. Katie grinned and hugged a smaller, short haired man before she moved on to an Auburn haired woman, and then smiled and fist bumped a taller, darker haired lady. “Hey Diaz.”

“Stark.” The woman’s face flickered into a grin as she pulled Katie into a hug “good to see you”

“Wait a minute. Are we hugging?” Katie pulled back “Have we ever done this before?”

“No,” Diaz replied “And if you tell anyone, I’ll slit your throat.”

Katie laughed. “Does Terry get a hug?” Bucky looked up to see an absolute unit of a man strolling towards them. The man was dressed in a normal shirt, with a tie and suspenders but Bucky couldn’t help but stare because, well, he was fucking huge. He was even bigger than Steve and that was saying something. “Oh Terry gets a hug!” Katie laughed, stepping forward again. “Good, coz Terry missed Katie…” “Does he always refer to himself in the 3rd person? Bucky turned to the shorter man. “Oh yes.” He nodded “I’m Boyle by the way” “Bucky.” He said, shaking his hand.

“So…” Jake turned to them “All the boxes and case notes are ready in the archive rooms down stairs. I would have brought them to you but my cars in the shop so I rode in on Rosa’s motorcycle. I guess you could say I’m a gear head now.” he nodded, clearly pleased with himself. “He held on to me so tight it was like a two-mile Heimlich.” Diaz shot back, where she was lounging in her chair, phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder “No I won’t hold…”

“Those things have no walls on them!” Jake hissed as he walked to his desk “Let me just grab my breakfast and we’ll head down…” “Are those gummy bears wrapped in a fruit roll-up?” Bucky looked at him in horror as he picked up the film wrapped item.

“Breakfast burrito, but yeah” Peralta shrugged as they headed to the elevator.

“I pity your dentist.” Bucky shook his head.

“Joke’s on you. I don’t have a dentist.” Jake shot back as they all headed towards the elevator.

“Not so fast…” a deep voice said, and Bucky spun round to see the 99’s commanding officer, Captain Holt striding across the floor. “I believe Sergeant Stark has one more person she needs to say hi to.”

Katie narrowed her eyes playfully “Why? Is Cheddar here?”

“Who’s Cheddar?” Bucky asked.

“Holt’s corgi.” Peralta supplied

Holt’s face twitched, into what Bucky supposed you could call a smile, maybe, as the man stuck his arm out and formally shook Katie’s hand.

“Good to see you again. Congratulations on the promotion.” Holt said “I knew you’d get your break eventually.” “Thank you sir.” she smiled.

He nodded at her and then turned to look out over the office. “Ok 99, I just had an email. Our monthly crime statistics are due. I want paperwork on all your closed cases by tomorrow. Scully, you can just write ‘I didn’t close any’ on a piece of paper.”

Bucky looked around to see two, rather large (and by large he meant fat) men sat at desks, both eating some form of wrap. One of them, the one with the strange hair cut that made him look like he had a lego doll head looked up.

“What? I’m confused…” he said slowly.

“Huh.” Holt raised an eyebrow “From your expression, I would have guessed constipated. Or chilly.”

Bucky heard Katie snigger besides him as a nasaly voice from the Auburn haired woman cut across the office.

“Hey, Craptain, you ready to get curb stomped?” “What?” Jeffords’ eyes shot up.

“At chess.” Gina looked at him.

“We have a weekly match. I’m teaching Gina to play. And she, in turn, is teaching me to trash talk.” Holt said, waving his hand in explanation before he turned to Gina “The hospital called. Your test results came back positive. You’re a stage five dumbass.”

Katie looked at Peralta before the pair of them burst out laughing as Gina stood there, nodding, like a proud sensei.

“Oh! You have come so far.”

Bucky simply stood there, mouth hanging open. What the fuck had Stark dragged him into. He dug her in the ribs with his elbow and as she turned to look at him, he shook his head “This…this is…” “The Nine-Nine.” Katie said, fondly “And you spent 5 years here?” Bucky looked at her in disbelief.

“Actually it was just over 6.” Katie said “I moved to the 101 a year after dad died when the opportunity came up to train as a Profiler. I do miss them all though, and their little quirks…which reminds me…Hey” She turned to Jeffords who was now sat at his desk. “Still writing Fan Fiction Terry?” “Fan Fiction…” Bucky dead panned.

“Well, shows and films leave Terry wanting more.” Sergeant Jeffords shrugged “I’m just filling in the gaps.”

Just when he didn’t think shit could get any weirder… Bucky blinked.

“So what grabbed your imagination this time?” Katie continued

“He’s actually writing an original piece.” Boyle smiled.

Terry grinned “Yeah, about a group of super heroes, who save New York from aliens…”

“Let me guess…” Bucky grumbled and they turned to face him “They all dress in lycra and have capes?”

“Not all of them.” Terry looked at him. “Only one has a cape and only one dresses in Lycra, the others are in leather apart from one who is a kind of beast when he gets angry and the other has a flying, metal suit and…”

“Why can’t anyone make super heroes normal people who wear normal clothes?” Bucky shook his head.

“They don’t sit on their couches in their superhero outfits.” Terry looked at him, frowning “They’re normal on their downtime…”

“What is it with you and superhero costumes?” Katie looked at him.

Bucky shrugged “It’s just all, oh I dunno, ostentatious…” “Says the man who owns a rhinestone encrusted denim jacket, yeah, I heard…Steve told me about it ages ago.”

Bucky smirked and shrugged “It’s from the 90s, it was the fashion when we were a kid.” “Hmmm.” Katie pondered, before she looked back at Terry “You’ll have to email me a copy when it’s done.” “Will do, Terry always likes feedback.” “And Katie likes to read, speaking of which…” she patted Buck’s chest with the back of her hand “We need to get digging into those files, Buck.”

He agreed and Katie turned to Peralta. “Lead the way…not that I don’t know where it is but…”

She was cut off by a loud squeal and she spun to see a dark haired uniformed woman, hair pulled back into a ponytail. Bucky just caught the name “Santiago” on her tag before Katie wrapped her in a hug.

“Oh my God!” Santiago smiled, “I knew you were back in town but…”

“I know I should have called…and I’m sorry Amy but, we got a lot to get through so I need to get to it. But, Romanoff suggested a night out. You too Diaz?”

“Drinks sound good” Diaz nodded.

“The Compound? This weekend?” Katie asked “Sure I can wrangle us the VIP treatment seeing as the owner is practically my sister in law.” ““I am sooo up for that!” Santiago grinned “There’s nothing better after a long shift than going to The Compound It’s like Cheers, where everybody knows your name”

Diaz looked at her “A place where everybody knows your name is hell. You’re describing hell.”

******

The doors of the elevator opened and Katie emerged from it followed by Bucky who was carrying a box with the files they had brought from the 99. Thankfully, out of the three boxes Peralta had provided on Rumlow’s case, they had been able to reduce the files with meaningful information to only one.

“Is Stevie’s office open, Wanda? Need to pop these files somewhere safe.” Katie said once they were close enough to the reception desk counter.

Bucky saw Wanda’s eyebrows squeeze together in a wrinkle and her mouth twist with annoyance at Katie’s use of Steve’s pet name. He could tell she was pissed. And to be honest, he was also surprised at the new situation. How Stark had gone from hating the Captain’s guts and going haywire at him calling her sweetheart, to easily referring to him as Stevie, and in public none the less, was something that he couldn’t quite grasp. But then again the dynamic between those two was unique, which was the polite way of putting it.

“Yeah, it’s open. He’s in there.” she answered trying to conceal her animosity.

“What?” Katie shrieked and Wanda shrugged. She turned to Bucky “Can you believe that?”

Bucky just shook his head and muttered “Punk” as both headed for the Captain’s office. They were about to barge in when the door suddenly opened. Steve, who was carrying a cardboard cup holder with two coffee cups, had to raise his right hand above his head to avoid scalding both detectives with the hot liquid.

“Whoooa, easy there!” his voice faltered at the end as his ribs complained at the sudden movement.

“What the fuck, Steve!” Katie shouted “You should be resting at home, you’re still healing.”

“She’s right, punk.” Bucky added as he made his way past Steve to leave the box on the desk. “What? You don’t think we can handle this without you?”

“That’s … that’s not…” he said turning and glaring at Bucky but stopped when he saw an amused expression on Bucky’s face “Enjoying yourself?” he asked and Bucky nodded and laughed.

Steve sighed and turned to Katie who was still at the door arm crossed and he smiled softly, his bruised face lighting up as he spoke.

“I’m ok, sweetheart. Just have to remember not to move like I’m a cheerleader.”

“Now, that’s an image I don’t want imprinted in my brain.” Bucky mused leaning on Steve desk as he prepared for the storm to unravel.

“What’s in the box?” Steve asked.

“Files from the 99.” Bucky said as he watched Katie who was still observing Steve with narrowed eyes.

“Well don’t leave them there, take them into the incident room.” Steve said, “It’s safe enough, we can lock it and-“

At that point Bucky saw Katie’s eyes flicker like a light bulb, the way they did when her brain was trying to spot the missing link and she interrupted him.

“Wait! How did you get here? You can’t have possibly driven yourself.” she said tilting her head, staring at him like he was the suspect of a petty theft. “Oh, you didn’t ride the bike, did you? Steven, tell me you didn’t ride that old, dusty piece of junk!” she carried on ranting.

“What bike?” Bucky inquired now curious while taking a packet of gummy bears Peralta had given him out of his jacket pocket.

“An old bike my father had. Tony doesn’t like bikes so he passed it on to Steve.” Katie explained “It’s a rattletrap…”

“It’s not a rattletrap.” Steve protested “And it’s unique, the handlebars are made from Vibranium. You should show more respect for Howard’s legacy.” he said pointing at her like she was a little brat.

“Whatever.” she said rolling her eyes. “Are you going to tell me how you got here?”

“Sam drove me. He called to tell me he had news on Ross report, he said he was in the area so I made him pick me up.”

Bucky saw Katie’s stance relax a bit with Steve’s explanation but suddenly her eyes darted to him, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit scared.

“Who did you say you had breakfast with before we went to the 99?” she asked Bucky with a sly glance.

“I didn’t say.” Bucky said, putting a bunch of gummy bears in his mouth before he diverted the conversation to Steve again.

“You shouldn’t be here, Steve. You’re convalescing”

Steve sighed, lowered his head for some seconds, a demeanour Bucky could read like the back of his hand. Steve felt tired and lost, he needed to go back to his natural element.

"Look” he said raising his head again, the hand that wasn’t holding the drinks dropped to his hip and he looked at Bucky “I’m tired of being at home doing nothing but watching TV and thinking. I can’t even go for my morning run or go to the gym to blow some steam against a punching bag. I know I should be more relaxed now than ever, but I’m not. Doing nothing is driving me crazy. Surely being in the station can’t be that physically demanding?”

Bucky felt a pang of guilt at his friend’s word. Steve was right. Bucky knew that Steve, for as long as he could remember, had always wanted to do what was right. Even if sometimes that meant a bunch of dumbass decisions. The Captain wasn’t one for sitting back and doing nothing. He even had bags under his eyes and Katie must have noticed too since she asked him

“Trouble sleeping?”

Steve turned to look at her with a huge smile on his face and a sparkle of something in his eyes, Bucky could tell from the way he was standing.

“You could say that.” he replied.

Katie returned the smile and they both simply stood looking at one another for what seemed like way more time than should be acceptable. Bucky suddenly felt like he was a fly on the wall, so trying not to step on the moment, he grabbed the box of files and made to leave the office.

“I will be in my desk if you…” he said when he walked past Katie but she wasn’t noticing him, she was still locked in eye contact with Steve.

“Whatever.” he mumbled and headed for his desk “I feel like I’m invisible. I’m turning into Steve when he was a skinny punk.”

“Now, you’re talking to yourself Barnes.” Natasha said walking from the kitchen followed by Sam, Clint and Wanda.

“Who are you, Regina George and her clique?” Bucky bit back while he dropped the box onto his desk and took off his jacket.

Steve chose that point to walk out into the office

“Sam, Barnes and Stark are back.” the Captain spoke striding towards Bucky’s desk, signalling the man over from where he was perched on the edge of Natasha’s desk. Katie headed to her own, and dropped her purse down, slinging her jacket over her chair. “Can you fill us on the new details about Ross’ PM report?”

“Can I go fetch a coffee first?” Katie pleaded as Sam stood up. “It’ll be real quick, promise.”

“Oh, shit, here” Steve said quietly handing her one of the take out coffee cups he had brought from his office and completely forgotten about “I got you your regular on the way. Your round tomorrow.”

In all honesty Steve had been a little nervous buying that coffee. It had been something they had always done, buying each other a drink on the way in, alternating on days. But since she had returned and they hadn’t been on good terms it had clearly fallen by the wayside. Since the air had cleared yesterday he’d decided to chance it and see how it was received but he needn’t have worried. Katie positively beamed at him before she blurted out “God, I love you.”

Steve felt his neck growing warm as all eyes turned to them and he saw Katie’s own cheeks flush and she sipped from the cup trying to hide her embarrassment “Suri’s Vanilla Lattes are the best.” she said in an over the top, dramatic voice “Oh, how I have missed them!”

"You’re welcome, I think.” Steve said, now full on blushing as he rubbing the back of his neck.

Bucky tried to divert the attention from the pair of dorks before Wanda choked on her own bile and Natasha or Clint made a snarky comment.

“I’m waiting. What, you didn’t bring one for me?” he asked and from the corner of his eye he saw Natasha shaking her head at him disapprovingly. He glanced at Steve who was now flushing even more and that was when he realized he had made it worse by drawing even more attention to the fact that Steve had, in effect, displayed favouritism, whether he meant to or not.

“You want in Barnes you can buy the next round then.” Katie quipped and he glanced at her as she perched on the edge of her desk.

“Fair enough…” he shrugged, and then his attention was taken by Sam who was looking at something on his desk with curiosity.

“You like cats?” Sam asked taking Dot and examining her.

“It’s not a cat. It’s a goat and it’s called Dot.” Bucky said with annoyance. How the fuck could anyone mistake a goat for a cat?

Steve groaned and urged Sam to start with the report details so they could move on with the investigation.

“What? Dude has a cat on his desk and you don’t want to know why?” Sam asked Steve. "Looks like a cat.“ he shrugged now looking at Bucky.

"I think it looks like a llama.” Katie quipped and Clint’s laugh could be heard all through the floor.

Steve groaned again rubbing his forehead but before he could make one of his famous pep talks, Sam interrupted him.

“All right, before Steve McQueen here’s head blows up…the hair we got on Ross’ trousers?” he offered, opening the folder he was carrying and examining the report.

“Yeah?” Steve asked.

“Funny enough, its goat.” the doctor explained.

Everyone went silent, looking at each other, before Katie let out a laugh and turned to Bucky.

“Maybe we should ask Dot if she knew Ross.”

“Fuck off Stark.” Bucky rolled his eyes, grinning.

“Oooh, maybe she did it…” Katie continued “I mean, do you know her whereabouts that night?”

“You’re hilarious.” Bucky deadpanned, shaking his head.

“Ok. Anything else?” Steve asked Sam, cutting across the pair of them.

“Nope. That’s all I’ve got so far. Got you a copy of the updated report.” he said handing the folder to Steve.

“Thanks, Sam” he said and the Doctor just nodded and patted Dot’s head with his index finger before heading away.

“Romanoff, Barton, start working on a link between Ross and …” Steve paused for a moment trying to sound as professional as possible “…a goat.“

Katie choked slightly and then coughed as Bucky looked at her, before they both started to snigger slightly. Steve rolled his eyes at the pair of them. They were like school kids.

"Right away, Cap.” Natasha nodded.

“It would be my genuine pleasure, Cap.” Clint added, nodding to his computer “Searching for goat farms as we speak. God I’d like to have a farm someday.”

“Buck, you and Katie start with those files. I’ve got a tele-conference with Fury to give him an update so I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

Bucky gave him a salute as he turned and started making his way towards his office.

“Stevie, I got your…” Wanda called out for him before he went away but she was cut off by Steve’s fiery look.

“It’s Steve, Wanda.” he said sternly.

“Yes. Sorry Steve” she said gulping “I just wanted to give you your mail.”

“Thanks.” Steve said, slightly less curtly but still with a slight edge to his voice as he took the items from her.

Bucky saw her walk as fast as she could towards the restroom and he shared a quick significant glance with Steve who just shook his head and turned towards his office. He then looked at Katie who simply stood and picked up the box from his desk as she headed towards the Incident Room. Finally he looked in Natasha’s direction who nodded at him as if confirming they were on the same page-Rogers and Stark were back on full speaking and, so it seemed, full flirting terms.

***** “So as Jake and I explained before the victim was a woman called Sara Klein.” Katie spoke as Bucky spread the papers across the large table. “She was walking home from a bar when she was dragged into an alley and raped.”

“And you think the perp was…this Rumlow guy?” Bucky asked, looking down at a mug shot of a man with dark hair and dark eyes. “Who was a Uniform in the 99?”

“Yeah.” Katie said

“So what made you suspect him?”

“When we took Klein to the Rape Centre for her forensic examination he was there, don’t ask me what for. When she came back from the examination room she heard him talking and literally stated shaking and became hysterical.” Katie paused for a moment “We got her back to the station, calmed her down and that was when she said she recognised his voice…”

At that point Steve walked into the room and they both looked at him, and he gestured for them to continue.

“Peralta and I went to speak to Captain Holt, you know, given the sensitivity of it. He told us to bring Rumlow in for questioning and that he would speak to Fury. Obviously he denied it, said she must have been mistaken bla bla bla but Peralta and I didn’t believe a word of it, I know he did it.”

She trailed off and Bucky looked at Steve who gently laid a hand on her shoulder “He knows.” he looked at her as her head snapped up and her eyes locked onto his “I told him what Rumlow did to you, I’m sorry but I was trying to explain the Sitwell situation and…” For a moment Steve feared she was going to blow up at him but she didn’t. Instead she sighed and shrugged “It’s not exactly a secret anyway…” she wiped at her eyes and Steve gently rubbed her back before she jumped off the desk and walked to the wall, looking at the various bits of notes and evidence.

“Long and short of it, Bucky, is that we had no forensics of any sort to link Rumlow to the rape, no DNA left behind, nothing that wasn’t circumstantial…and then up pops Sitwell to provide an alibi that we didn’t believe for a second. But before we had chance to discredit it, Sara turned up and said she wanted to withdraw her allegation. Said that she’d confided in someone, we never did find out who, and they’d given her all these statistics on how many rape cases actually ended in a conviction and that was it, she didn’t want to put herself through it. Nothing we said or did could convince her otherwise.”

“So Rumlow basically carried on like nothing had happened…” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair. “Well his reputation was in tatters, mud sticks…” Katie said, turning to look at him “He pretty much became a social pariah around the force. And then when he assaulted me he was kicked out, well, told to resign…”

Bucky stayed silent as Steve gently reached over to look at the paper work on the desk.

“So has anything turned up in any of this that can link Ross to Sitwell?” he asked, glancing up at them both.

“Not so far.” Bucky shook his head “But we haven’t even scratched the surface.”

“Well until we have anything concrete to go on it’s as good a train of thought as any.” Steve said. “Maybe it’s worth digging into Sitwell’s background a little more. Schools, Universities, dodgy handshake clubs, that kind of stuff, see if we can link him to Ross that way.”

“Say we do make a link…” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair, eyeing Katie “Gut feeling Stark, is this connected to the Rumlow case?”

“I dunno.” she shrugged “But one thing’s for sure, something stinks about all of this. And I don’t believe in co-incidences.”

“Me neither doll face.” Bucky mumbled, dodging the whiteboard pen she sent flying his way.

******

Three hours and a couple of sandwiches later Bucky and Katie had decided to call it a day. They had gone through Rumlow’s case again and needed a home cooked dinner and a good night’s sleep before they started digging on Sitwell’s school records the following day.

“Ok. My brain is fried. I’m heading home and praying for Tony not being there yet. Wish me luck.”

Bucky smiled at Katie over the screen of his computer. He saw her stand up from her chair and cross her fingers in the air before walking to the restroom. He was saving the documents on his computer and turning it off when he heard Steve.

“Anything significant?”

“Nope.” Bucky said leaning back on his chair and stretching his arms above his head. “Enough for today. And you too, Steve. Finish that coffee you’re drinking and I’ll drive us home.”

Steve nodded and turned around when he heard Katie’s voice from behind him.

“You shouldn’t even be here. Go home and rest, Stevie.” she said casually.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve who rolled his eyes, but he turned to Katie when she let out a little squeal and saw her waving her phone in the air.

“Nat, Wanda come here! Got a message from Diaz!” she said excitedly “GIRL’S NIGHT OUT FRIDAY. How does that sound? She says Amy and Gina are coming too.”

“I’m in” Natasha said grinning at Bucky and turning to Wanda, who had also gathered around Katie’s desk, for confirmation.

“I don’t think I can… I’m sorry.” Wanda hesitated before adding “My cat is sick.”

“Your cat?” Nat asked her with sly eyes.

“Whatever…” Katie rolled her eyes and leant over her desk to switch off her computer “I’m only asking because I’m not petty enough to leave one person out” she muttered only for Bucky to hear.

“Leave it.” Bucky whispered back as he saw Wanda frown and open her mouth to retort to Katie’s initial eye roll and he gave Steve a warning look.

“Wanda.” Steve stepped in “Come to my office. There are some reports I want you to file before you go.” and he started walking away as she followed obediently.

“Ok. I’ll text Diaz saying we’re in Nat. Dinner and The Compound?” Katie asked while grabbing her jacket and purse.

“Perfect. And I’ll convince the little witch.” Nat nodded.

Katie just pursed her lips and nodded before waving everyone goodbye and walking away.

“Ok. All hands on deck. Clint come here!” Nat said her eyes shining with the excitement of plotting. “Barnes. Engage phase 2. We’re going out and we’ll be at the Compound after dinner, I’ll confirm our ETA as we go. You two bring Rogers and I’ll make sure Stark is a little bit intoxicated by then.” she said winking at Bucky.

“I’ll call Peralta, if Santiago is gonna be there, he’ll be up for it. See who else he can drag in.” Clint offered.

“Ok Buck, I’m ready. We can go now” Steve said and looked at them sensing he had stepped into something “Am I interrupting something here?”

“Nah. Nat was telling us the girls’ plans for Friday.” Bucky brushed him off.

“Oh, so you’re finally going out?” Steve smirked at Nat who rolled her eyes at his dig that it had taken her so long to organise something with Katie “But, you do know you and Stark are on call this weekend as Barton and Barnes have done the last two?”

“That we did.” Clint quipped

“It’s ok boss. We’ll behave.” Nat drawled as she spotted Wanda had returned to the reception desk. “Gotta go do something. See ya fellas.”

Steve sighed and shook his head at Bucky “Lets go, Buck. Bye Barton.”

******

“You’re a pain in the ass. No, you’re worse than a pain in the ass, you know that?” Bucky said while closing the car door after getting into the left back seat of Sam’s grey Mercedes Class C.

“What’s the deal?” Sam asked looking at Steve who was now fastening the seat belt of the passenger seat. Perks of being the Captain and still on recovery.

“He’s been grumpy all day. He didn’t want to come.” Bucky explained.

“I told you, I’m on duty this weekend.” Steve said turning his head to look at Bucky as Sam pulled away from the curb in front of Steve’s block.

And he was being truthful, he was the senior officer on call. It had been Holt’s turn last week, but as Bucky pointed out the chances of getting called in were low. Katie was the on duty Sergeant supported by Natasha and God forbid either of them would admit they couldn’t handle any possible situation and had to call their superior in.

“You have more chances of getting laid tonight than being called in tomorrow.” Clint deadpanned from the right back seat.

Steve groaned which made Sam chuckle and give a significant look to the men at the back through the rear-view mirror.

“Where are we going?” Steve asked trying to change the subject.

“We’re picking up Thor” Sam explained.

“And then?” Bucky asked “I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, what’s new? You’re always hungry.” Steve snorted.

“Tell me about it.” Clint scoffed. “I spent all day with him yesterday visiting goat farms upstate. Dude ate a donut dorito hot dog pizza all rolled up like a burrito! Can you believe it?” Clint asked leaning forward to speak to Steve and Sam.

“Hey, I was just optimizing my time.” Bucky shrugged and the three men shook their heads.

“We could stop at Grimaldi’s to have pizza and beers, feed the bastard. Then we’ll drop into the Compound.” Sam suggested.

Both Bucky and Sam nodded in agreement with the plan. Steve groaned again. He was worried about the case being in a deadlock. After two days of digging, they had nothing solid on Sitwell’s connection to Ross yet. Last thing he needed, if he was being honest, was taking care of a bunch of drunk friends and, what was more, he wasn’t gonna drive any of them home, it was Sam’s car after all, he had called designated driver. But then it dawned on him, they were going to the Compound and the girls would be there, wouldn’t they? Suddenly his spirits were lifted and a soft smile crossed his face. But he was snapped from his thoughts again by Bucky.

“Look, I know you’re pissed. You’re still sore from the accident, I get it.” Bucky started to scold him but was interrupted by Sam.

“We’re here. Can someone text him?” Sam announced pulling in a spot in front of Thor’s building.

“Got it.” Clint offered pulling out his phone.

He unclasped the car belt and moved closer to Bucky so as to leave space for Thor in the backseat while fiddling with his phone. Bucky stirred in his seat feeling suddenly trapped.

“Can you move your seat up?” he asked Sam

“No” Sam said without even flinching a muscle on his face.

“Asshole.” Bucky muttered.

He looked at Steve who seemed to be lost in his thoughts and then he turned to look at Clint who kept on texting on his phone.

“Ok. Peralta says he’s meeting us at the Compound. He’s having dinner with some video games buddies now but he’ll meet us later.” Clint informed the rest.

“Will Tony be there?” Steve asked suddenly.

“Of course he will” Clint snorted. “He clocks in day in and day out.”

“Yeah, Pepper has him wrapped around her finger.” Sam added nodding.

“Women.” Bucky sighed looking at his Captain who was looking at the front stoic as ever.

“Greetings, morons!”

Thor’s voice reverberated in the cabin of the car as he sat in the only free seat and closed the door grinning. Everyone greeted him back and Sam started the car again.

“Why are you carrying an umbrella?” Clint asked Thor “It isn’t even cloudy.”

“Oh! It’s my lucky charm.” he said happily. “My lucky umbrella, my father gave it to me when I was a kid.”

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Steve mused from the front seat.

“And a mistake. I mean are you gonna be attached to your lucky charm all night?” Sam asked, hands on the steering wheel.

“I make grave mistakes all the time, everything seems to work out in the end.” Thor shrugged and tapped Steve on the shoulder. “Captain, what are you doing here? I thought you were still recovering from your car crash. You should be sitting at home in your bathrobe, eating grapes.“

"Yeah, or plums.” Bucky added. “Don’t encourage him. He is enough grumpy as it is.”

“Yeah, not helping blondie.” Clint quipped.

“You’re so petty and tiny.” Thor scoffed.

They continued picking on one another for the rest of the journey and the time they spent at the pizza restaurant. Two hours later the five of them were at the main entrance to the Compound, one of the most popular clubs in Brooklyn in the last few years. The club was run by Pepper, Tony’s fiancé, so they were greeted warmly by Happy, the doorman, who let them in immediately after a short informal chat.

“Welcome, Gentlemen” Pepper greeted the group who had now approached the bar where she was chatting idly with Tony. “What a sight for sore eyes, Steve!” she added now kissing Steve on the cheek.

“Yeah, what brings you here Capsicle? Last time I checked you were in a hospital bed looking like shit.” Tony asked Steve.

“Yeah, Katie told us about it.” Pepper interjected signalling between her and Tony. “How are you now? Are you ok? Is there anything I can bring you?”

“I’m fine Pepper, honestly thank you, just a few cuts and bruises. And a glass of water would be great, thanks.”

“Water coming right up.” said Pepper gesturing for the barman to come and take their orders.

“Water, Rogers?” Tony mocked him. “Beers for all for starters. That’s on me and I’m buying a bottle of the best champagne we have so meet me in our private booth when you’re done.”

The group cheered happily at Tony’s offer and sat on the bar stools waiting for their drinks.

A pretty blonde waitress placed a glass of water and a beer bottle on the bar in front of Steve and winked at him, who obliviously took a painkiller from the blister and swallowed it with a bit of water. He didn’t want to take it but the constant bickering of his friends and the loud music and dim lights of the club were making his head pound.

He was sipping from his beer bottle when someone slapped his back causing him to wince at the pain.

“Hey, Rogers. Nice to see you man!” Peralta greeted.

“Hey, Jake. How you doin’?” Steve greeted back with a sincere smile while Peralta nodded and fist bumped Clint.

“Did you come alone?” Clint asked him.

“Yeah, but meeting a friend at some point tonight. He’s working until later.” Peralta answered as he shook hands with Bucky and Sam. “Barnes, good to see you again. Wilson?”

“Hey man.” Sam nodded, and Peralta looked beyond him towards Thor who was scanning the dance floor while moving his head and feet to the beat of the music.

“Oh, you brought Point Break.” Peralta quipped, turning to Clint.

“Yeah, you can’t get rid of him easily, especially if we’re talking about revels.” Clint commented.

“Revels?” Peralta asked frowning.

“A Party, that’s what he calls it.” Sam offered.

“Wow, and I thought Holt had a weird vocabulary.” Peralta muttered.

A little while later Thor had disappeared onto the dance floor and the rest were already on their second beer while chatting animatedly. Steve was beginning to regret having mixed alcohol and meds. Feeling a bit lightheaded, he was seriously considering calling a cab and going home when he heard Peralta whistle through his teeth and Bucky let out a breathy curse.

“Damned.”

“What?” he asked turning around to ask what was going on. They were both looking at the back of the Compound, towards the booths and that was when he noticed what had taken their attention. Katie was stood side on to them, talking to Tony. She was dressed in a dark blue short jumpsuit that sported a large white flowered pattern and a plunge neck line that dipped almost to her navel. Her shoes were high heeled black sandals with a silvery cuff round the ankle and as she turned to say something to Natasha, Steve saw that the back of the jumpsuit was bare bar where the fabric crossed across to each shoulder from the opposite hip.

God she looked gorgeous, scratch that, she looked more than gorgeous.

“Fuck!” Steve cursed when he noticed his beer had been dribbling down his front. He took a pair of cocktail napkins and tried to dry his shirt while Bucky, Peralta and Sam cackled at him. He groaned and continued wiping as Bucky put one arm over his shoulder.

“Keep it cool, man. It’s not like you don’t know what’s under those clothes.” he said in a low voice, winking at Steve.

“Shut up, Bucky.” Steve snapped but had to do as told as the girls were approaching the bar.

“Hey fellas.” Natasha drawled, “You coming over to join us?”

“Once Rogers has dried off, yeah.” Clint said.

Diaz looked at him, frowning. “Dried off.” “Yeah someone nudged me and I spilt…” he said, gesturing to the front of his shirt.

Katie shrugged “Can’t see anything, your shirt’s black.”

“It’s nice.” Wanda nodded, looking at Steve. He took a deep breath, thinking back to what Bucky had said and merely smiled at the woman politely. Behind Wanda he saw Diaz and Natasha exchange a smirk. Katie, however, was focussed on something else.

“Is that the one I bought you for your birthday last year?” Katie asked, reaching out to gently run her hand over the collar, and Steve nodded and didn’t miss the scowl on Wanda’s face. Totally oblivious to the daggers she was being given, Katie grinned “Wanda’s right, it looks good.”

He smiled at her and then turned politely to Wanda who had said something to him, and Bucky watched as Katie’s eyes lingered on them both for a little longer her eyebrow raised, almost in amusement at the other woman’s attempts to flirt with Steve fell flat.

“You want Stevie to go into cardiac arrest or something?” Buck leaned over to talk into her ear and she turned to look at him “The man is drugged and on alcohol and then you come along looking like that.”

“Fuck off Bucky.” Katie bit back “I wore this because it makes me feel good, you asshole, not for anyone else. And it’s not like I knew you were coming. Why are you guys even here anyway?”

“Boys’ night out” Bucky shrugged.

Katie raised an eyebrow at him “Yeah, of all the places you could pick to go you just…”

At that she stopped and her head cocked to one sided as she caught the first beats of a song playing.

“Oh, God!” she squealed. Bucky was just about to ask her what was going on but he was too late, she leaned towards Steve and gently grabbed his hand, turning his attention away from Wanda as she curled her hand round his.

“Stevie, listen.”

A big mischievous grin crossed Steve’s face when he heard the song and next thing he knew he was being dragged by Katie to the dance floor. Leaving Wanda slack jawed with frustration.

“What the fuck? Is he dancing?” Bucky asked Clint and Nat who were stood at the bar next to him, unable to keep his eyes from Katie and Steve dancing and laughing like crazy to I’ll be there for you by The Rembrandts.

“Yeah, they always dance to this, it’s like their song.” Clint answered before sipping from his beer bottle.

“Give him a minute, he will do his Joey.” Natasha told Bucky while keeping an eye on Wanda who had just sidled back into the booth and was now pouting and stabbing the bar with her cocktail umbrella. At that Steve launched into some kind of odd dance move, which he still manage to make look quite graceful “Oh, yep. There we go.”

“Unbelievable” Bucky mused shaking his head, happy to see his bestie cut loose. “She really brings out that kid from Brooklyn, doesn’t she?”

“You could say that.” Nat said with a side smile while Clint nodded in agreement. They all watched as one of Steve’s arms curled round Katie’s waist, his large hand splaying on her back as they continued to dance around to the upbeat music, Katie’s head tipped back in laughter and a huge grin spread across Steve’s face.

At that point Bucky heard Wanda snort and strut down the club to the restrooms bumping into people on her way.

“Ah leave her.” Natasha said with a sigh, draining her glass.

“So Rogers has two women fighting over him…” Peralta leaned back “Lucky bastard.” “He’s eyes for no one but Stark.” Bucky said, shrugging “So wouldn’t really call it a fight.” “Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t really want to get in a fight with Stark anyway…” Peralta nodded. “Damned she can be vicious.”

***** A few hours later they were all sat together in Tony’s private booth drinking champagne, except for Katie who had finished her drink and had gone dancing with Rosa and Gina, and Steve who had gone to the restroom.

"This bottle is empty.” Thor said shaking the bottle in the air.

“I’ll go fetch another one.” Tony said standing up ceremoniously.

“I don’t want that bubbly shit. Anyone in for some tequila shots?” Thor asked as he also stood up and went to the bar without waiting for an answer.

“Oh…my…God!” Natasha suddenly slurred nudging Clint who was beside her.

"This is better than we expected” Clint whispered, grinning.

“What? What’s happening” Bucky asked.

He looked at Natasha who didn’t answer but he followed her gaze only to spot a tall handsome brunette chatting with Peralta and Santiago.

“What is he doing here?” Nat hissed to Clint

“Don’t know. Must be the buddy Peralta said he was meeting.“ Clint answered Nat.

"Who is he?” Bucky frowned.

“Storm” Wanda, who was nibbling a piece of lime, explained to Bucky “He’s a fireman and has the hots for Stark” she practically purred.

“Well, this is awkward.” Sam deadpanned.

“You know what? I’m gonna help Thor with the shots.” Wanda said to the group.

“Ok. I’m lost” Bucky said once Wanda was out of earshot.

“Phase 2, Barnes” Natasha’s eyes glinted “The plan was getting them drunk and leave them alone, wasn’t it? But, this is brilliant!” she clapped excitedly. “Steve’s gonna see him here, get all jealous and protective…”

“Ok, but someone needs to keep flash fire dude away from Stark until Captain Slow can make his move…” Sam warned looking as Steve was coming back from the restroom and was approaching the bar.

"Uh oh, too late” Bucky said moving his head towards Wanda who was talking to Johnny Storm and pointing at Katie’s direction before she gestured to their booth.

“Fuck.” Clint hissed.

“Should have seen that coming.” Natasha groaned.

“Can’t blame her, Witchy is only playing the cards she has left.” Clint chuckled.

“All right, Steve coming at your 9. Everybody play it cool. Let’s see how this unfolds.” Sam muttered.

It was only seconds after Steve had sat in the booth with another beer in his hands that Thor came carrying a tray with shots and a bottle of tequila, followed by Wanda and Johnny.

“Here, let me help you.” Wanda offered Thor.

“I told you I can handle this” he said placing the tray on the table “Fortunately, I am mighty.” he said casually tossing the bottle in the air and catching it expertly.

Bucky saw as Natasha gave a filthy look to Wanda who was now sitting between her and Steve.

“What? Wanda whispered.

"You know what.” Natasha muttered at her.

Steve’s eyes flickered up to the dark haired man and he did a double take. That was the Flash Fireman, the friend of Peralta’s that Katie had been talking to at the Christmas Party. He took a deep breath and felt his shoulders stiffen slightly as he looked around, spotting that Katie, Diaz and Gina were making their way over. He took a deep breath and his nostrils flared as Johnny blatantly looked Katie up and down as she made her way over.

“S’Up Fire Boy?” Diaz asked him “No kittens to rescue from a tree?”

“Off duty…” Johnny grinned “And stop pretending you’re not happy to see me Diaz.” “Yeah, that’s her happy face, just for clarity.” Gina nodded, folding her arms “Her angry face…well, no one who’s seen it has lived to tell the tale.”

There were a few chuckles from the table until Thor roared out that it was time for shots. Katie slid into the booth on the spare seat next to Johnny as Bucky and Steve both stood up to grab extra stools for Diaz and Gina. Once they were all seated Thor passed the shots around and Steve hastily slammed his down as he watched Katie leaning slightly into Johnny, the pair of them chatting. As Steve watched he held out his arm of his jacket and Katie smiled, reaching out to gently stroke it.

“You like it?” he asked looking at her “It’s a new material made by my sister, she’s an engineer.” he said sliding an arm around Katie’s shoulder “It keeps the hot stuff hot and the cool stuff cool.”

“Yeah, can’t have your brain overheating, can we?” Steve jabbed at him, rolling his eyes.

Bucky chuckled at Steve’s comment and Katie tried to hide her smile sipping from her glass.

“I’m not wearing a hat.” Johnny frowned earning a withering look from Steve and Katie choked on her Martini. At that point there was no hiding the grin spreading across her face and Bucky saw her glance at Steve, probably to share another one of those knowing, inside smiles, but her expression slipped. He looked over to see Wanda laugh at Steve’s joke and hold onto his left arm. And the Captain made no move to shrug her off. Instead, he turned into her, his arm moving only to drape round the back of the bench they were on.

Uh Oh.

“Are you ok, princess?” Bucky’s attention flicked back to Johnny who was looking at Katie. “Wanna dance?” he asked with his playful signature smile.

“Yeah, why not?” She said, shooting another glare at Steve. She stood up and flash fired dude slipped his arm round her, hand gripping at her hip as he steered her into the middle of the dancefloor

“I’m dancing too.” Natasha said standing up “And you’re all coming with me. This is a girl’s night after all…”she added dragging Wanda up out of the seat before she turned around and mouthed do something at Bucky.

Bucky looked at Clint and Sam for support, he wasn’t sure what it was that Natasha expected him to do. The situation was disastrous enough as it was.

The pretty blond waitress from the bar came to collect the tray and empty bottles scattered over the table and gave Steve an intense look.

"Want another drink or anything else, handsome? A dance maybe?”

“No thanks” Steve groaned. He stood up and simply said “Excuse me” before walking towards the bar.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked Bucky and Sam who were looking at her sympathetically.

“Don’t take it personally. He’s in love.” Bucky shrugged.

“Oh, so is he taken?” she asked apologetically.

“Not exactly…” Sam tried to explain.

“What? Is she blind or something?” the waitress said wiping the table with a rag.

“Something like that.” Clint scoffed.

Bucky sat back and tried to come up with a way to redirect the situation. Jealous and drunk Steve was not a good combination but now it was pointless trying to fix the disaster as he saw Steve perched on a stool by the bar, another beer in hand, looking at the dance floor like a wolf.

And then, it was almost like it was happening in slow motion. Wanda, who had slunk off the dancefloor made her way over to Steve where she draped herself, shamelessly over him. And before Bucky could even move to warn Steve, as he could see what was happening a mile off, she’d slipped her arms round his neck and pulled him down to kiss her.

Bucky let out a groan and he turned to the dancefloor to see Natasha stood there, hand over her mouth and she turned to look at him. He waved his hand over his throat furiously, in an attempt to get Natasha to sort it out but it was too late. Bucky’s eyes flickered to Katie whose attention was fully on Steve and her face fell.

“You left Wanda unleashed!” Bucky practically yelled, exaggerating his words so Natasha could see what he was saying, as he pointed in the direction of Steve and Wanda at the bar.

“Abort phase two. This is a disaster.” Clint groaned. Meanwhile, Thor laughed loudly and clapped.

“Matchmakers of the year, ladies and gentlemen!” he said.

“Where you even here?” Clint asked visibly annoyed.

In all fairness to Steve, he hadn’t been expecting Wanda to make a move like that. It took a while for his drunken brain to catch up with what was going on, but when he finally did he gently caught Wanda on the hips and pushed her away.

“Wanda…” he shook his head “I’m sorry, you’re a great girl and everything but…”

He stood up and looked around, and then he felt his heart sink. Katie and the Fancy Fireman were heading for the exit, hand in hand. Bucky was also watching the two of them leave, and his attention turned to Steve and the utter look of devastation the Captain wore.

Fuck.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @icanfeelastormbrewing @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan @charmed-asylum

#csi rogers and barnes #csi au #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #bucky barnes #clint barton #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #tony stark #thor odinson #brooklyn 99

66 notes · View notes

oliverpdaniel · 3 years

Text

Let’s talk about casual homophobia.

I wanted to share a transcript of a TikTok video by a minor celebrity (I won't do them the honour of identifying them, but suffice it to say that this individual thrives mostly on controversy and poor publicity), to demonstrate what day-to-day homophobic language looks like. Many of these questions have been asked to me, or tell of real things that I've experienced, due to a generally callous view of queer folks. The quoted parts are the actual video, the unquoted responses mine.

Note in advance that some of these questions are clearly oriented towards gay men, but I am responding from the perspective of a bisexual man. Anyway...

"Okay, these are my questions for the gays – sorry, I was on Straight TikTok for a minute; what?"

Or, as you might like to call it, TikTok. For those unfamiliar, "Gay TikTok" is a small subset of the TikTok community that makes videos primarily revolving around in-jokes and shared experiences of the queer community. Thus, "Straight TikTok" is only extant in contrast, a joking reference to certain, overwhelmingly heteronormative parts of the TikTok community. While I'm not a big fan of the idea of 'ownership' or deciding who's allowed to say what, this (obnoxiously straight, in every sense of the word 'obnoxious') celebrity is trying somewhat unceremoniously to insert themselves into a narrative not their own here. Not off to a great start.

(1) "Would you care if your partner was bisexual?"

Whelp, this is one I can't really answer, can I? But, this still does lean into the old "gold-star" ideology of homosexuality, which makes it off-putting from the jump. For those unfamiliar, a "gold star" gay/lesbian is one who has never had sex with the opposite gender. This is a completely silly distinction, that fails to take into account personal circumstances, as well as – y'know – the fluid nature of human sexuality. TL;DR, even if you're exclusively into one gender, you shouldn't care about your partner's sexual orientation (other than, y'know, making sure it includes your gender) because, leaving aside the absolutely rad underworld of polyamory, they're only going to be into you while they're with you.

(2) "Have you ever been with someone of the opposite gender?"

Ah, more gold-starring! A great way to start. "You're trans? What's your deadname?"

(3) "Do you take offence when a girl calls you her Gay Best Friend?"

The Gay Best Friend is an expendable, non-threatening fount of femininity in masculine form, someone to go clothes-shopping with and who will give you sassy advice on boys. God forbid, however, that the Gay Best Friend try to be vulnerable with you about the difficulties of LGBTQIA+ life; they're only there for sashaying and making out with at parties, right? The Gay Best Friend is an incredibly harmful notion to men on both sides of the sexuality spectrum. Gay (and ESPECIALLY bi/pan/poly) men already know to fear the label, because of the dismissive treatment and expectation of performative homosexuality that comes along with it. Straight men should fight against it, too, because it's a symptom of the present hegemony of heterosexual relationships, which revolves around sexual transactionalism and a healthy dose of gender-role-fuelled intimidation[1]. (If you've never heard any of those words, you're probably the target audience here.)

(4) "Be honest – how many times has a straight person tried to hook you up with a gay person based solely on the fact that they're gay and no other compatibility requirements?" (with a devilish smile, into full blown "oh guuuuuurl" laughter)

This is a real thing that happens to people, myself included, all too frequently. It tells us that when you look at me, you don't think "Oliver", you think "Gay", and next time you meet another gay guy, that's the word ringing through your head. It's not funny. It's hurtful. If you're going to recommend a partner to me, make sure you actually have faith in a connection forming. As someone who ended up in an abusive relationship as a result of overzealous matchmaking, it's not something to be taken lightly; relationships, especially gay relationships and all the societal friction they inevitably entail, are not here for your endearment.

(5) "Are you down to hook up with someone who's 'just curious'?"

MORE gold-starring! God, could you imagine the uproar if a lesbian approached a straight person and said that they "missed dick" and/or wanted to experiment!? Oh, wait, that's already common in straight porn to the point of cliché. Gag; and not the good kind of gag.

(6) "Do you proudly wear the rainbow flag, or are you kinda against it because it kinda segregates?"

...what? When I first found this video, it was being duetted (TikTok's side-by-side video response) by a queer person, and at this point they took the opportunity to say, "I don't like you." I echo the sentiment.

(7) "Are you a 'yaaaaaas kweeeeen' gay or are you, like, 'fuck that shit what the fuck?'"

WE ARE NOT HERE TO PERFORM QUEERNESS FOR YOU. Leaving aside the sociolinguistic aspects of queer language and its intersection with (read: theft from) African-American Vernacular English, if people want to act flamboyantly gay, THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. If people want to act "normal" (read: heteronormatively!!!), that's NONE OF YOUR GOD DAMN BUSINESS. Queer people are fucking people, they act differently in different scenarios, and it's not for you to fetishize or to find "too much sometimes". When you accept a queer person into your life, you're accepting every facet of them into your life, for them to live and love unapologetically – not just the parts you find entertaining.

(8) "This might be a dealbreaker for me: do you like musical theatre?"

Yes. But even if I didn't – if I liked drinking beer and watching Nascar (sorry dad), but wish I had a boyfriend to do that with, guess what? That's my own fucking business. And, again, if your idea of a "dealbreaker" when engaging with a gay person is whether or not they like musical theatre – probably one of the most tired stereotypes about gay folks – and not, I dunno, if they're fun to be around and respect your boundaries and opinions, then maybe you're not looking for a gay friend for the right reason.

(9) "Be honest – do you still go through the Chick-Fil-A drivethrough and get that spicy chicken sandwich or those nuggies?" (big, face-scrunching smile.)

This is the one that REALLY got me. This displays just how tone-deaf this person is and how deeply they've objectified the concept of homosexuality for themselves. Chick-Fil-A is a massively homophobic organization from the top down, and they donate millions to organizations that want to bring into question my very right to exist, morally and legally.

As a straight person not affected by these issues, it's easy to say "well, I know I /shouldn't/ go to Chick-Fil-A because of the 'gay stuff', but oh IT'S SOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOD!". It's easy to momentarily forget one's morality because hey, it's not like you're directly hurting anyone, right? But, as a queer person who has to walk by the brand-new Chick-Fil-A at Yonge and Bloor every day on my walk to class, seeing the lines wrapping around the block lets me take direct measure of who, and how many, are willing to forget about me for just long enough to enjoy a fucking chicken sandwich. Go literally anywhere else. Eating at Chick-Fil-A is a choice, and it's a choice that informs me that you care less about my right to live than your own personal enjoyment.

(10) "Do you get upset when they have straight actors portray gay characters?"

This is a whole other debate, so I'm not going to get into the actual subject matter of this question. But hey – maybe, in an industry literally overrun with queer people, maybe we can stop converting a significant and pernicious problem in entertainment into a cutesy debate topic? Something really tells me that this person isn't going to start whipping out the intersectional feminist literature to explain their argument here. In all likelihood, it'll sound more along the lines of "but Eddie Redmayne looked so GOOD in that dress!"

(11) "And what's the GAYEST thing about you?'

Nope. Shut up and choke. I hate you.

Never tell me for a second that homophobia is "over" in Canada/the West/wherever. Never tell me that it's a distant issue, remaining only in far-off religious backwaters. This is what it can look like. Fetishization; dismissal; turning struggles for human dignity into pseudo-intellectual debates.

I'm not here to be your Gay Best Friend.

I'm not here to date your new gay acquaintance.

I'm not here to repeatedly explain to you my need to have rights.

I'm here for the same reasons you are.

I want to live and love, not to be treated like a toy.

Footnotes

[1] Okay, I'm obviously not saying that all straight relationships are built around sexual transactionalism and intimidation, nor am I saying that non-comphet relationships are not. But, in my experience as a reformed Gay Best Friend who has had to provide counsel to cishet friends over some INFURIATINGLY stupid relationship/courting issues, I would argue that a full ninety percent of them could be resolved if the experiencer simply viewed their partner/interlocutor/'tyng' as another human being, rather than being from the mysterious species that is The Opposite Gender.

2 notes · View notes

darkzeruda1214 · 5 years

Text

Kairi deserved better.

Oh, boy this is going to spark up some debates.

Now I want to CLARIFY before I start.

I DO NOT. Under any circumstance hate. Or dislike Kairi. Personally I think she was one of the few characters that actually have an interesting background and has a lot of potential as a character. And I really do like Kairi, but I think the rest of the fandom can agree with me.

She. Was. Done. Dirty.

Seriously. Does anyone in the development team even like or want her in the series?!

This girl deserves better. As well as give her some spotlight and some much needed personality!

*Canon Kairi is just really... unjust. The fandom does a much a better job portraying her character! (TAKE NOTES NOMURA Dangit! You could learn a few things from the fans!)

Anyways...

Time to get to the topic, (also thanks for my cousin for allowing me to use their exact words for this argument).

(SPOILERS FOR KH3)

So after finishing KH3 I was left unsatisfied and just plainly angry at the ending. And after what happened to Kairi, there’s nothing more than I want is for her to get some redemption because what happened to her is utter bullshit. One of the things that really pissed me off was how they handled her.

And yes, I’m talking about the final battle, but one thing I think many people tend to overlook is her treatment in the trailers.

Now I know some of you are confused by what I mean. But the trailers really deceived fans about what Kairi was going to offer. A lot of fans speculated, argued and theorized that Kairi was FINALLY bulk up and be ready to fight. She was finally going to be useful.

Now to be fair she isn’t and act totally useless. I mean she did save Sora during the Final World arc. (But you know, Square totally missed an opportunity that could have given Kairi more substance, but that’s for a totally separate debate for another time).

The trailers made it seem that Kairi was going to be part of the final battle. Now that part wasn’t a lie, but they clearly only gave her the spotlight for a couple of scenes, she’s a party member for the first part of the battle and then that’s it. We don’t even have her throughout the ENTIRE battle. She’s just cast away, because PLOT!

Utter. Bull.

But another thing that really degraded her character as a whole is the lack of personality.

Kairi used to be a snarky and sarcastic character in KH1. And I really enjoyed what kind of character she used to be during my second play through.

(Though I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t have any attachments to any of the character -not including Disney exclusive characters- in my first playthrough until later on in the story. Riku was the only one I was more intrigued about).

Back to Kairi, even with the few seconds she was in, she had something that made her feel like fleshed out character. Not by much, but there was something. And all of that was nearly taken away in KH2, now some of you are probably ready to argue that KH2 was her best version. I’m incline to disagree, now while Kairi was mostly asleep in KH1, she had more personality in the first game compared to the second. Because in the second game, she becomes less sarcastic and more bold when it came around action.

This is where I feel Kairi started to fall as a character and more as a plot device. Because as we all know it, she get’s captured. At least in the first game she had purpose and a reason to be there.

In KH2 she had absolutely no reason to be there.

As much as I hate to say this. Her character direction fails in the second installment, because the only time she’s relevant (not including Naminé) is the Roxas telepathy conversation and the bottle scene. After that, the only way to keep her in there is by having. Her. Get. Captured.

She’s ‘the fire’ that keeps Sora going. And at that point she’s only there as a plot device for Sora. Who he himself wouldn’t be relevant either had it not been for the Keyblade and for Roxas. But since he’s the playable character he’s obviously important. But… the same can’t be said for our Princess of Heart. While they managed to keep something in for Kairi in the second game, it was completely tossed out entirely in KH3. Honestly, the only thing I got from her is that she's heavily infatuated/in love with Sora (which isn't a bad thing, it's just that’s ALL her character had to offer in the third installment). And just in general I think her development went in the wrong way.

So we finally get to the title of the rant.

I know a lot of people are going to disagree with me and that's fine. Since we all have the right to our opinion, and to disagree and agree.

But I think she didn't need to have a Keyblade.

Or at least in the way how the writers decided to give it to her.

Reason I say that? She didn't even EARN her Keyblade. Yeah, I said it.

She didn’t earn it, Riku gave it to her like a gift card. Like: here, it's yours. (It’s pink. So I don’t want it. It matches your clothes though).

That’s it.

They just handed her a Keyblade. That it. She didn’t even have to WORK FOR IT. (Not even a joke since the franchise is handing those things like lollipops) Now. If they had allowed her to manifest it. I dunno, actually EARN it, like how Sora and Roxas did. (Heck, even Riku got it, off screen, but he still got his). And addressing the Wayfinder’s Keyblades, it’s pretty obvious since they were training to be masters at the time. And don’t even get me started on Union X and Ven.

But Kairi was just given the damn thing like a kid given candy. Not through some rigorous trial of heart, mind or soul. Not through battling. No. Just handed one.

I mean yeah sure you could argue her coming to another world could work for her favor, after all she traveled from one world to another. Being brave to help out Sora despite being in danger herself. But again, she’s just given the Keyblade by Riku. Not by her own power. She’s just gifted THE DAMN THING!!!!

I’m sorry. But I don’t think that’s how KEYBLADES WORK!

Look at Axel/Lea! He manifested the Keyblade in his hand! Sora’s appeared to him at first, but then he earned it after showing that his heart is strong and his power is through friendship.

Roxas earned Kingdom Key through Sora, but later he earned his own Keyblades after his strong promises and from battling. One from defeating Xion and the other from the sworn promises.

And it’s no doubt Riku got his from all the hard work of fighting the darkness and helping Sora in his journey.

But Kairi. Didn’t. This pisses me off.

Honestly... at this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised that the writers (actually I think I want to blame Nomura for this) don’t like Kairi. If they don’t even bother to put any effort in making Kairi a fighter. Why on earth did they have to give her a Keyblade?

Again. If they allowed her to manifest it, or let her go through a small trial of some sort like everyone else, or test the power of her heart then I wouldn’t be arguing this topic.

I’m not saying it’s intently bad that they gave her a key. I’m saying the way how they did is simply lazy writing and makes Kairi look useless.

Because of her Keyblade, I think that’s the reason why a lot of people wanted her to fight. And honestly, I feel that was the wrong direction to grow her character.

I can name a good number of cartoon, game and anime characters who don't have ANY fighting experience but are still amazing characters.

And I think that’s a problem in pop culture in general. What most fans of any series don't realize, is that well-written female characters aren't just those who kick butt and shoot stuff.

They don't have to be a badass to be a good character!

And I think that's what really screwed Kairi over in the end. (That and what Nomura did to her). But the moment they decided to give her a Keyblade to fight, it really tipped her off badly.

So going back to the trailers, since I clearly forgot to remind myself, the trailers really made it look like Kairi was finally going to be able to help in physical part of the battle.

They emphasizing so much on her training, that it made it seem like Kairi was going to be a stronger character "physically.” But… once the game was released, there wasn't anything to back it up all that “training.” In fact we didn‘t even get to see her and Axel train at all.

And to me that was a shallow move. The only thing the trailers served was a cheap extension to encourage people to buy the game. I think they tried really hard to sell the game by releasing too many trailers too early in the year that not only spoiled the story, but made fans wait even longer for a game that didn't even feel complete.

All that’s left is the Re:Mind trailer. (Edit ReMind fixed her character. About DAMN TIME!)

But that's just my opinion, if you don't agree with me, that's fine I respect your opinion. I don't mind at all Kairi having a Keyblade or learning how to fight. But I don't think that's what she needed in order to be a good character. She really needs a fleshed out personality and some interests/hobbies outside of simply being in love with Sora.

No hate to Sokai ship. It's a good couple, just... was poorly executed in cannon. Fandom works have better stories and delve into the relationship and characters (better than Nomura ever could write) I'm sorry. But I'm still bitter to what he thought would be a good thing to add in KH3 especially after how many years fans waited the game's release.

*I know there are other reasons as to why Kairi looks and is treated as a bad character. But her poor development discussion has been overdone so many times that it’s practically common knowledge for any Kingdom Hearts fan. But again that's me.

I really needed to get that out of my system.

#kingdom hearts #KH3 #Kairi #Kairi was done DIRTY!!!#lack of character development #she deserves better #keyblade #discussion #personal confessions #confess series #kairi deserved better

28 notes · View notes

puttingfingerstokeys · 4 years

Text

A Million (Mochi) Miles Away

Nanowrimo day 24 Featuring Beatrix LeBeau and Mochi Miles Sci-fi Slime Rancher, implied pining/crushing Finished and unedited

COMPLETE VERSION ON AO3

When the comm unit in my little ranch home chirruped, I had only just opened my eyes, the sun’s first rays peeking up over the horizon. Today was my “sleep-in” day. I had dubbed it Saturday, because time on the Far Far Range didn’t move the same as it had on earth. That wasn’t surprising, of course, but it still jarred me, even after all this time. I disentangled myself from my sheets and shoved misplaced hair out of my face; it was laying in tangles and would need a thorough brushing to fix. Fortunately, I lived in the middle of nowhere with nothing but slimes and chickens for company. They didn’t much care how I looked, so rather than fussing, I stuffed all my hair into what someone, somewhere might have called a bun and answered the comm.

“Yup?” My eyes were blearily half-open and I knew I looked like a slob, but that’s what they got for calling me on my sleep in day—my Saturday. The comms were video or audio; I had mine set to video most of the time because I liked seeing the person on the other end… even bOB, who baffled me greatly, but who also made good on his payments, so I never asked questions. The instant the comm video stirred, I regretted not spending a little more time on my face. It was Mochi Miles, the multibillionaire daughter of another multibillionaire whom I was just about certain sent her out to the most remote region of the galaxy to get her out of his hair. That wasn’t a nice thought, but given her abrasive mannerisms, I could hardly have blamed her father—still… one had to wonder.

“Beatrix,” she said, “did I wake you? Well—you should know better than to sleep in on the Far Far Range; there is way to much money to be earned, too many discoveries to be made to have bed-head.” Her tone was mocking, sharp, and nothing out of the ordinary. I was hardly dead-set on impressing her, but something about her jeering mockery rubbed me raw and made me want to show her up in as many ways as possible. To those not in the know, she made her fortune with her patented quicksilver slime collection attachment for standard Vac-Packs and her family owned the largest quicksilver slime preserves in existence (so far). I had been to a couple of them, mostly doing favors for Mochi who, despite her sharp nature, paid very well, and could not help being impressed with it. Still, how badass could she be if she had simply inherited it all? I guess that wasn’t nice either.

She was one of those people who had to let you know she was “HBIC”, which was old earth slang for “head bitch in charge”. I wasn’t certain if the Far Far Range had slang, or even a set language. Slimes were not terribly rousing conversationalists. Mostly, they cooed, growled, giggled, and sometimes sang. If they had slang, it was beyond me. Anyhow, Mochi was once again displaying her superiority with her perfectly coiffed hair, her immaculately plucked eyebrows, her flawlessly applied makeup, and what I could only assume was the galaxy’s latest fashion.

“Mochi,” I responded. Fortunately, we passed the “miss Miles” phase of our relationship months ago, when Mochi herself had bestowed the mantle of friendship upon my unworthy shoulders. So… yeah, I guess I was friends with Mochi Miles. I did not feel much warmth toward her—and maybe even a little pity. Neither of those things were symptoms of friendship, I thought, unless friendship was also done differently out here. From what I gathered, however, with people like Ogden, Vik Humphries, and Thora, it was not and Mochi was an outlier even here. Maybe she sensed this too and that was why she had extended a proverbial olive branch. We had never been at odds, per se, but with her friendship came the unspoken promise that she would be kinder. I had not seen a whole lot of that. She had moments, here and there, but mostly it was business as usual. “It’s Saturday, remember?”

“Of course not! You keeping earth days and weeks is totally crazy! How am I supposed to—”

“Mochi,” I cut her off, “remember, I haven’t been out here as long as you, okay? Keeping those days, even on the weird Far Far Range cycles, keeps me… I dunno, sane, I guess.”

“Right,” she said, her eyes darting off to one side. “S… s… I forgot.”

It wasn’t an apology proper, but I would take it. She was not warm, not yet, but she was… sort of improving. I understood that she had quite a bit of stress regarding her father (and I’m sure he had plenty regarding her), and she certainly felt the need to prove herself to him, but that did not mean I had to be subjected to poor treatment. Her issues were hers, not mine. Drawing lines between myself and others had always been my greatest weakness. Only coming all the way out her, to the Far Far Range, had allowed me to start learning how, precisely to do that. I was not a cold person, but I was a person who needed her space.

“So, what did you need?” I assumed she had something for me to do at her quicksilver slime “mines”—they were quick buggers and hard to drive out of their caves and catch, but a large enough electrical charge did the trick and that was precisely how Mochi had designed the place. That part, at least, was brilliant. She may have inherited the mines from her father, but the enhancements she had made to them were all her own. I guess it wasn’t totally fair to say she had been handed everything, just a whole lot more than most folks. That did not make her a bad guy. I had long ago decided to give her a chance, after a long talk with Thora, who knew much more about the situation than I had.

“Well I’m glad you asked,” she said, leading in like a saleswoman with an amazing pitch. Of course I was going to ask. She had awoken me out of a sound sleep and pleasant dreams. I deserved to know why. “Next week, my father is hosting a gala on an orbital platform above the quicksilver mines; he specifically requested my venue—he must want to show off my achievements to his investors!”

“And you need me to… what, help you clean it?” Maybe I jumped the gun a little bit, but I really had no idea what she could have needed me for, in this context especially.

“N-no!” I could see the blush even through the semi-fuzzy vid screen. “I… well I needed a date and I wanted to ask if you were free.” Her face went from red to white as the words spilled out in an almost uncontrolled torrent. Her eyes widened and I could just about imagine the sheen of sweat as she realized what she had just said, despite the one having SAID it.

I considered her statement for a long moment, deciding whether I should just answer and have done with it, or let her squirm a little longer. I knew I should be kind to her, polite, but she had put me through the wringer during my first few months on the Far Far Range and, though it had all turned out, I was still just a little sore about it. I could feign busyness, but I knew Thora would come and check on my slimes for one night. I could say I had plans, but what plans did a girl with four friends within about a gazillion lightyears actually have? Mochi was cute; I would have been a fool not to see that. Besides, it would be a good opportunity to meet some of the rich muckety mucks her father rubbed elbows with daily and see what the wealth of other worlds was like. It was one night and even then, probably only a few hours. It wasn’t as if she was asking me to marry her. Anyway, it had been a while since I had been on a date.

“Sure, Mochi, I’ll do it. What time?”

It appeared to me that Mochi Miles had not anticipated my agreement to her solicitation, that she had anticipated having to convince me. In fact, I thought for sure she had note cards, stashed somewhere behind the transmitter camera on her comm unit.

“Mochi?” I repeated this gently, with an upward inflection as if to ask “are you all right”, but without saying the actual words. Something told me she would not respond to those the way most folks might. It was a rocky journey, being her acquaintance (subordinate) and then reluctant friend. The reluctance, ironically, was from her end. While she was abrasive and somewhat rude, I found nothing about her to be totally abhorrent and, given the extreme lack of sentient beings out here, would have been very happy to be her friend either way. Mochi was the one who seemed to be having difficulty processing this whole “friendship” idea.

Or maybe it was something else.

She gathered herself with remarkable speed. Maybe that was part of her upbringing too, poise in all things. I had never met her father, but I assumed he was an iron-handed parent, which would explain more than a few things about Mochi herself. That might have been more than a little judgmental on my part, but it definitely would have clarified a bit about her mannerisms. I was just starting to wade into the quagmire that was the mind of Mochi Miles, after all; I needed all the help I could get and she wasn’t likely to be throwing me any liferafts.

“The gala begins at seven, which means I will make my grand entrance at eight,” she informed me. I cleared my throat and I could have sworn I saw her blush again. I was two for two today. “That is, we will. Wear something nice. Later, tater.”

She hung up without another word and I was left wondering where in blue blazes I’d get a proper gala gown with only a week to go. Mochi was a whirlwind, that was for certain and I wasn’t entirely sure why I had agreed to this, why I was putting forth the extra effort. It just seemed like the right thing to do and maybe just a little bit fun.

That’s what it was. Fun.

#CC #CW #Slime Rancher #Mochi Miles #Beatrix Lebeau #lezbeans tho

7 notes · View notes

peterparkers7evilexes · 5 years

Text

I’m getting older too [winterspider cult AU - T]

Chapter warnings: guns, descriptions of physical violence and blood, descriptions of cult-like gaslighting

[Part 1]

Group therapy was hell.

All it had taken was one crazed man grasping for straws, and before long everyone knew Bucky’s life. ‘Negligent, selfish, violent’, they chanted. ‘Abandoned your sister, lost your way, purposeless and useless’. It wasn’t a unique treatment. Everyone got ‘broken down’ like this, everyone was debased and humiliated in front of the whole room. It was supposed to be part of the healing process, Emrys insisted. Only by breaking one down to his core vulnerabilities could he be rebuilt. “Today,” he said, cupping Bucky’s face in his withered old hands, “is the first day of the rest of your life.”

Gazing up at Emrys through blurred tears, Bucky ground his teeth hatefully and wished him death. It was hard to not let their words get to him, and there was only so much violent brainwashing he could withstand.

Having Sam and Peter around helped - to a degree. Peter had been able to pull some strings and get Bucky moved to their cabin, and just having a safe place away from the pervasive cult mentality was a relief. But the group therapy sessions didn't seem to hit the other two nearly as hard.

"Just let it roll off you man," Sam said, not unkindly. "Water off a duck's back."

"They don't actually know you," Peter added. "Nothing they spout in there is true. You're stronger than them, Bucky."

And yet, Bucky only felt weak and broken after group therapy. Rebecca had always been the stronger of the two of them and he felt certain that his little sister, all four feet nine inches of her, would have laughed in everyone’s faces and let their words bounce off her like so much wasted breath.

On one night after a particularly rough group therapy session, Bucky had laid sullen in his bunk, useless tears slipping down his cheeks as he thought of Rebecca and how badly he’d failed her.

He wasn’t expecting it then, when a soft voice broke the silence. “We’ll get out of here.”

“What?” he said, hating how his voice came out a little nasally, betraying his weakness.

“This isn’t forever.” Peter’s head popped down from the bunk above, his brown hair flopping messily around his face as he gazed at Bucky upside-down. “This place is designed to break you. But we’re gonna get out of here.”

“I know,” Bucky said automatically, wiping the wetness from his eyes and sitting up in bed.

Peter stared at him for a long moment, cocking his head to one side. He nodded to himself and, with a little ‘oof!’, swung down from the top bunk and fell gracelessly into Bucky’s lap, long legs smacking him in the face. “Scoot,” he whispered, thankfully blind to the way Bucky was suddenly flushed bright red at their positions.

Bucky pressed himself against the wall, staring quizzically as Peter laid down next to him, his body a line of warmth against his side.

“Hi,” Peter said, tucking his toes under Bucky’s calves and giggling when the older boy tried to squirm away. “What’re you gonna do when we get out of here?” He asked conversationally, keeping his voice down as to not disturb Sam who was snoring gently in the other bunk.

“Oh, I dunno.” Bucky murmured, throwing half of the blanket over Peter’s legs. When Peter just nudged his shoulder patiently, Bucky sighed. “I’m gonna find my sister. I’m getting her out of the foster home and we’re gonna take care of ourselves.”

“That sounds nice.” Peter curled into a little ball on his side, dark eyes blinking at Bucky. “You’re a good brother.”

Bucky shrugged, staring at the underside of the top bunk. He didn’t feel like he was. “How about you? Did you ever live… not here?”

Peter nodded, his fingers tracing an unidentifiable pattern on the sheets between them. “With my aunt and uncle. They were good people, took me in after Dad split. But they died a few years ago, so I got sent here to live with him anyways.”

“You don’t seem anything like him,” Bucky mused. “You’re not… not as--”

“Evil? Maniacal? Power-drunk?”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah. All of those things.” He turned to look at Peter, his heart rabbiting in his chest at the way the kid stared at him, curious and unguarded. “What about you?” he croaked. “Where are you going?”

“Dunno,” Peter said, tearing his eyes away from Bucky. “Always wanted to go to school, but… That’s probably not realistic. Not for awhile, anyways.”

“You never know,” Bucky murmured, pushing down the fear of uncertainty rising up his chest. “You’re smart, Queens. You could figure something out.”

Peter gave him a tentative smile, nodding and burrowing into the blankets. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Hey, Brooklyn.”

Bucky looked up from the potato he was scrubbing. Peter was leaned up against the steel worktable in the commune kitchen, grinning at him and holding up a peeler.

“What’re you doing here?” He didn’t see much of Peter around the farm during the daytime - while he and Sam were relegated to the kitchens or the garden, Peter was usually put to work in the infirmary or helping out with the weekly task scheduling.

Peter bumped his hip, grabbing the thoroughly scrubbed potato from his hand. “Got done with stuff. What, can't I just wanna see your pretty face?”

Bucky grinned, glad for the company. “You're a terrible liar, Parker.” He dumped another basket of potatoes into the sink, setting to work scrubbing that batch too. Looking around the kitchen to be sure everyone else was heads down on their own tasks, Bucky said in a low voice, “Everything set?”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled sincerely at him, managing to look completely charming while elbow-deep in potato peels. “Got you on the schedule as a delivery hand tomorrow, and Sam for later today. Once you’re in the rotation, the Guard will be more relaxed about letting you guys out on runs.”

Security had gotten considerably tighter after the first riot. Emrys formed a militia called the Community Guard and equipped them with rubber bullets and police grade batons, and of course every violent cult member with aggression issues had immediately signed up to enlist in the Guard.

Within a week of the Guard’s formation, six more teenagers were sent to the infirmary with severe concussions and there was no more whisper of escape attempts. At least, not outside of their cabin.

It felt like a slice of normalcy, sitting on Peter’s bed while the three of them talked through their plans and what they'd do afterwards - laughing and talking quietly amongst themselves, like they were normal kids instead of planning a secret escape from an isolated cult. Bucky didn't know what would become of their friendships once they got out. Sam had parents he wanted to return to, and Bucky had Rebecca. He thought about asking Peter to stick with him - at least until he figured something more permanent out. But whenever Bucky thought to mention it, his tongue sat heavy in his mouth and he couldn't quite summon the words. He'd wait until they actually managed to escape, he told himself. Get out of this hellhole first, then they'd figure out where to go.

Their plan moved forward into action. With Peter pulling the strings behind the work schedule, Bucky and Sam became regulars on the delivery rotation.

It was dull work mostly - perched in the back of a pickup truck with another farmhand, Bucky was responsible for hauling produce to the various farmers’ markets and isolated towns far flung from the rest of civilization. The buyers never looked at Bucky, didn’t even really like interacting with the drivers, it seemed. They’d fork over a wad of cash and take the bags of produce without so much as a ‘thank you’, all adhering to some unspoken rule not to engage with anyone from the compound more than was absolutely necessary.

On one occasion, the farmhand Bucky was working with - another kid who’d been discarded from the juvenile center - dared to ask a woman at the market to use her phone. She had looked nervously between the boy and the pickup driver, and made up some excuse about not having her phone on her. (Bucky didn’t miss the faint rectangular outline in her apron pocket.)

When they got back to the compound, the driver grabbed the kid and marched him in the direction of Emrys’ quarters, and when Bucky reported on what he’d seen, Peter confirmed grimly that he’d been asked to pull the kid’s name from any future delivery rotations.

Sam and Bucky kept their heads down, did as they were told while out on delivery, and they pretended to swallow Emrys' lies. It was all to get back to Rebecca, Bucky told himself firmly. It wasn't forever.

Their opportunity finally came a week later. "Schedule's set," Peter said breathlessly, bursting into the cabin after the nightly sermon, his face pink from running across the compound. "You two are out on delivery with Joe tomorrow, but I'm gonna take care of him during breakfast."

Sam sprung up from his bunk in excitement and ran at Peter, hugging him and twirling him around in a celebratory circle. "Thank God!” He bellowed, and Peter batted at his shoulders, laughing even as he shushed him.

“We’re getting out,” Bucky said in amazement, sitting stunned at the edge of his bunk. “This time tomorrow, we’re gonna be out of here.”

Once Sam let him down, Peter crouched down on the cabin floor and pulled a folded sheet of paper from his back pocket. “Okay, it’s not the prettiest,” he said, flattening the sheet, “but this is a general map of where we oughta go tomorrow. The first market stop is here,” he pointed to a dot on the traced map. “And the closest town is fifty miles south of that, Clear Creek. All we gotta do is make it to Clear Creek, then they can’t touch us if we’re in someone else’s jurisdiction.”

“How do we know Clear Creek’s law enforcement won’t just turn us back over?” Sam asked, looking down at the sketch.

“We don’t,” Peter admitted, looking up at them. “So we try not to get caught and keep going if we can. Think of Clear Creek as our waypoint marker.”

“Sounds risky,” Bucky said, meeting Peter’s eyes. “Let’s try not to get caught then.”

Peter grinned. “That’s the plan.”

The following morning, Bucky was thrumming with nerves and anxiety. He made his way to the dining hall through a light misty rain, keeping his head down low and flicking his eyes from side-to-side, terrified that any moment, a Community Guard would pull him aside, their plan discovered.

The morning sermon went on without incident though - as he filed through the breakfast line, Peter gave him a little smile before slopping some oatmeal on his tray, but that was the only acknowledgment they made to one another.

Rain was still falling light and dewey across the compound, shallow mud puddles squelching underneath his boots as he made his way to the car port. He caught sight of Sam already hauling burlap sacks of carrots, sweet potatoes and onions into the bed of a dirty white pick-up and began helping out, neither daring to speak to the other just yet.

Peter ducked out of the car port a moment later, shielding his face from the rain. “You boys ready?”

Bucky bit back a nervous laugh and nodded. Sam jumped up into the bed of the truck and perched himself among the burlap sacks of produce, extending a hand down to help Bucky up as well. Catching his eye, Sam gave him an anxious grin and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Let’s go,” he called, knocking the top of the cab.

Peter got up into the truck cab and turned the ignition over, looking up into the rearview mirror. His eyes locked with Bucky's in the mirror, and then they drove off.

Mud splattered thick and viscous all around them as Peter drove through the compound, caking the wheels and leaving deep wet tracks in the earth behind them. The rain drizzled on, flattening Bucky's hair against his face and he had to squint to see more than a few feet in front of the truck, so his fingers tightened around the edge of the truck bed when he felt them rolling to a stuttered stop.

"Hold up," called a voice, and Bucky felt his stomach plummet as a Community Guard strolled up to the cab, rapping his rubber baton against the hood.

Peter leaned across and cranked the window down, smiling at the guard. "Hey!" he greeted him cheerfully, fingers wrapped tense around the steering wheel.

"I didn't think you were cleared for driving," the guard said in a gruff voice, squinting back to where Bucky and Sam sat in the pickup bed.

"Yeah, just got trained," Peter said.

"Is that so?" The guard's eyes lingered on Bucky, then on Sam, taking in their stiff posture and nervous silence.

"We got a couple deliveries to make, can we go?" Peter asked, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice.

"Hold on." Bucky watched with mounting dread as the guard's hand strayed down to the gun at his belt, a clear threat. "I don't want you driving out in this weather if you're new at this. I'm gonna check the schedule, see if someone can switch shifts."

Sam and Bucky exchanged a panicked look. "We already asked," Sam shouted quickly. "Clint was gonna, but he said he wasn't feelin' too good. Something about stomach cramps.” When the guard gave him another dubious look, Sam said, “Look, we're already gonna run late with the rain, but if we slow down anymore, half these people won't even buy this stuff. You know how they hardly trust us," he added ruefully, with a commiserating shake of his head.

The guard gave an annoyed sigh, but his hand lowered from the gun at his belt. “I still don’t like you driving out in the rain,” he scowled. “Let me drive ‘em, your dad’ll kill me if I let you get into a wreck.”

For a hair of a second, Bucky saw Peter’s eyes flick up to the rearview mirror again and meet his, terror communicated between them wordlessly. “Please Rollins, c'mon," he pleaded, pasting on a charming smile. "If I never drive in these conditions, how'm I supposed to learn?" When the guard's forehead furrowed in doubt again, Peter leaned forward, throwing out their last hail Mary. "Come along for the ride. Just let me practice," he wheedled.

Rollins chewed at his lower lip thoughtfully, then sighed, his shoulders slumped in defeat. It worked. "Yeah, okay," he relented. "Budge over."

Peter gave him a winning grin and threw the car door open, letting him in.

The door slammed shut behind them and Rollins cranked the window back up, leaving Bucky and Sam to stare at one another in quiet dismay as the rain fell around them.

Slowly, the pickup drove on away from the compound, the fields and shacks of the isolated community fading into the gray afternoon mist as they went on with their escape, complications and all.

"What are we gonna do?" Sam murmured in a low voice, his fingers clenched tense around his knees.

"We gotta get rid of him along the way. Maybe… Maybe make some emergency, so he has to get out of the cab." Bucky dug around the truck bed, looking for some kind of tool. "Fuck, should've brought a shovel or something," he mourned.

"We could use a big carrot," Sam said drily.

"Come on, Sam," Bucky said fretfully, but as he looked around the truck, wielding produce seemed more and more like their only option. "Fuck," he said again.

All too quickly, they made it into their first stop, a small market far flung from the compound and still well beyond any incorporated town to speak of.

Sam and Bucky got to work hauling bags of produce off the truck, unable to speak with Peter with the guard sitting idly in the truck cab. It was as Bucky was summing up the price that he saw Sam fiddling with one of the vendors' wooden stalls. Sam was leaned casually against the post like he was just sheltering himself from the rain, but Bucky caught his fingers twisting something under the wooden slats of the stall.

His heart pounding in his chest, Bucky stuttered over the numbers, losing count. "Shit, sorry," he mumbled, scrubbing his face and smiling apologetically at the vendor. "Never was good at numbers."

The vendor made a derisive sound under her breath but just tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for Bucky to count again.

He summed the prices up, watching Sam out of the corner of his eye. Sam tucked his hands into his pockets and headed back to the truck, stooping to retie his boots. Only when he had hopped back up into the truck bed did Bucky give her the total, holding back his sigh of relief.

The vendor scanned over the numbers doubtfully, but finding no flaw, sneered and handed over the cash.

Bucky smiled and thanked her, and jogged back to the truck, joining Sam among the sacks of produce.

“What took you so long?” Rollins asked in an annoyed growl, jerking the passenger side door open just enough to take the wad of cash out of Bucky’s hand.

“Bad at math,” Bucky shrugged.

“Fucking delinquents,” Rollins muttered scathingly, slamming the door again as the truck rumbled on.

“Thanks, man,” Sam said quietly.

As Peter drove them on, Bucky tilted his head to the side, hearing an odd metallic clanking like something was rattling underneath the truck. “What did you do?” he asked.

Sam grinned, uncurling his fingers and showing Bucky a long, rusted screw. “Messed with the exhaust pipe,” he murmured. “Mostly harmless, but it’ll sound like something bad is fucked up - hopefully fucked up enough that Rollins gets out to check.”

Bucky grinned at him.

Sure enough, Rollins started shifting in the cab, looking around in annoyance and at points, leaning over the dash to check what he could see.

Not wanting them to get too close to the second stop, Bucky rapped on the back window of the cab. “Hey!” he called, and the truck rolled to a slow stop, tires squelching in the mud.

The rain was falling harder now, a consistent downpour that soaked Bucky and Sam to their bones, although the adrenaline pumping through him kept the cold at bay. Rollins reluctantly opened the cab door and got out, hunching himself under his jacket. “You guys hear that rattling too?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, wiping the rain from his face. “It sounded like it’s comin’ from underneath the truck, I think.”

Rollins scoffed, looking disgruntled as he circled the vehicle. “Yeah, that’s where all the car parts are, genius. ‘Course it’s coming from underneath the truck.”

“I know something about cars,” Bucky volunteered, hopping out of the bed. Rollins raised an eyebrow but stepped back to make room for him. “Probably something with the, uh, serpentine belt,” he fished, wincing when Sam gave him an unimpressed look. Thankfully, Rollins didn’t call him on his bluff.

Feeling a little emboldened, Bucky crouched by the side of the truck, his eyes flicking up to where Peter was sitting in the cab, brown eyes blinking curiously at him. “Here, I’m gonna try tightening the muffler valve. Can you get close to the exhaust pipe -- yeah, just kinda next to it, and can you tell me if you hear something hissing?”

Rollins grimaced, clearly not relishing the thought of taking orders from the new kid, but he went to the back of the truck, stooping just a bit.

Bucky seized his opportunity. Jumping up to his feet, he kicked at the wet earth, spraying thick mud into Rollins’ face and making him roar.

Sam hefted up a sack of carrots and flung it at Rollins, knocking the man off balance and flat into the mud. “Go, go, go!” he roared, just as Bucky grabbed onto the passenger side door, barely hauling himself into the cab in time as Peter slammed on the gas pedal.

“Fuck!” Peter cried, but he was laughing hysterically as they peeled away, tires spitting up mud in their wake.

“Tighten the muffler valve!” he could hear Sam howling, his own laughter bubbling out of his throat in amazement.

As he watched Rollins stumble to his feet in the rear mirrors, he swore as he realized Rollins was pulling his gun from his holster. A loud crack rent the air and Bucky ducked his head instinctively. “He’s fucking shooting at us,” he shouted indignantly.

“Don’t worry,” Peter called back, “they’re rubber bullets! Shit, I dunno where we’re going, can you get my map--”

Another crack sounded, this one louder than the last. Bucky’s ears were ringing, and he realized with almost slow-motion comprehension that glass was sprayed all across the truck cab, shards of it discarded across the peeled leather seats.

He hauled himself upright, staring as Peter’s eyes found his, wide and frightened. “You’re okay,” he said instinctively, wanting to comfort the other boy, and then the truck veered to the side, too fast for country roads and Peter slumped bonelessly into his lap.

Bucky’s hands went to cradle his head, adrenaline dragging time to a crawl. “Hey,” he started, his fingers slick and wet in Peter’s hair. He didn’t understand - Peter hadn’t gone in the rain, why was he wet - and as he pulled his fingers away, he stared uncomprehendingly at the thick red rivulets running down his palm.

“Bucky!” Sam roared behind him. “Drive!”

“Oh god,” he heard himself say, and when another crack sounded through the air, Bucky snapped back to himself. He cradled Peter’s head as best as he could and slid into the driver’s seat, his body twisted awkwardly as he rammed down on the gas pedal while trying to keep Peter in his lap.

Another two gunshots rang out, one embedding itself in the metal of the truck, but Sam kept screaming, “Drive, don’t stop driving!” so he curled his arms tighter around Peter’s fragile body and kept on the gas, numb and trembling until his vision was blurred with the pouring rain.

#winterspider #peter parker/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/peter parker #bucky barnes x peter parker #peter parker x bucky barnes #synanon au #fic #longpost #tw:cults #tw:physical violence #tw:gun violence

75 notes · View notes