#SAYING SHE OWES YOU A COMING OUT BECAUSE YOU WERE FUCKING STUPID OF THE INTERNET

[i-3at-s0ap]

I'm fucking done. Bye

[inkskinned]

im having a particularly terrible night with urges and imagery that i dont know how to handle. i gave in to some things. held back on some others. but im barely holding on, dear internet stranger.

you do not owe me your time or your words.. but if you could write some hope into existence for me.. i would be unendingly grateful to you.

please. tell me how you do it. tell me how you survive. because im not so sure i can get through the fifteen days it'll take to get to my seventeenth birthday.

could you please give me something to place my faith in? i dont think the universe is watching out for me anymore.

i don't usually answer these, because i am not a professional, and you deserve professional help. when i was 17 i was terrified of the idea of professional help, because my household was extremely unsafe, and made it clear that if i ever chose to get help, i would be punished for it.

i hope this is not your case. i hope that you can call someone, and they can take you where you should go.

but i will give you the advice that i wish i got, when i couldn't get help at 17, when i was so bad that years later, i literally don't-know-how-i-survived it: what you want is peace, not death. your brain is sick. it has romanticized an ending where there are no consequences. where effort isn't necessary. where you can just... forget.

you want peace. that is a normal, human thing to want. maybe it feels more like you want quiet. or just... to take a break for a second.

here is what i will say: to end yourself means you never get to experience what it's like to actually be happy. i thought i knew what it was like, and i was bitter about it. i'd say - i've been happy, it's not worth it, because i didn't know what i was missing. i thought that happiness meant having a partner or having a job or money or a college degree. it sounded like effort. it sounded like something that had to happen to me.

for the first time in my life, just this week, i was able to go to a concert and just-enjoy-it. no liquor, no drugs. just stomping my feet and getting caught up in it. i didn't feel nervous or self-conscious or overwhelmed. i just had a good time. these days have a lot of these firsts for me - it is the first time i can eat cake without crying. it is the first time i can be around an exacto blade without supervision. it is the first time i have too many people to call when i am crying.

i can't tell you where you'll run into happiness, only that, for me, it started once i was out of that fucking house. it started once i figured out where the pain was coming from. once i figured out that i was not possessed, something medical was wrong with me. that i am not stupid or lazy, i have depression and adhd. the first few years were difficult. at 19, during my efforts to recover, i actually got worse by a considerable margin. and then, with time and patience - i got better.

happiness doesn't feel like what you think it will. in movies it's so golden and all-encompassing. but it doesn't fly into your hands when you buy your first car nor does it arrive in the arms of a partner nor does it require passing your classes. happiness came to me on a tuesday in the form of a red-winged blackbird, and i looked at her, and she looked at me, and i said - oh. the whole world suddenly filled itself in with color. like i had been forever-asleep. like every corner of every room was suddenly glistening.

it ended quickly, back then. it just stopped in to check in on me. but it was enough - this thing i had never experienced, but that i knew (logically) could happen. before that, i was only staying because it would make my mom sad if i died. that was my only reason. and then the happiness came, so strange and brilliant and lovely that for years i couldn't even look at it directly.

these days, things are so different. life is so much easier. i don't wish for death because so much of what i have is already at peace. my boss understands when i need a mental health day. people in general are less prone to high school drama. entire communities hold my hand and have my number. i have a car and a dog and a little apartment garden and candles on all available surfaces and today i bought myself a little cake just-to-celebrate-nothing. my body is my own and we are both dancing.

there are so many things i've gotten to taste in the last 10 years. i know, for you, that is an eon, because it's more than half of your life. but if it helps? in the 5 years between 17-21: i filled myself with laughter and love. i got to be a lead in a ballet and got my first tattoo and then my second and pierced my ears the way i'd wanted to (one of them professionally the other over a hot stove with a potato) and i discovered hozier is my favorite singer (i know. he was new back then) and i got my first real job and my first real paycheck and i hadn't ever been seen as smart but then i started to actually treat my adhd as a condition rather than a burden and people started saying you're like the smartest person in the room and my best friend met her husband who i will one day stand next to as maid of honor when he is her groom and i got to help people and make a stupid blog called "inkskinned" and find out that writing is actually my passion and that maybe i'm actually kind of good at it if i just practice and i got to meet my parents' dog (his name is kaiju) and i slept on couches and kissed people and tried new things and learned how to breathe without feeling my chest tighten and that peace is here, on this planet, that peace echoes everywhere, it is in my hair and my homework and my houseplants, it is quiet and divine and mine because i fought for it and i built it and yes i lost hair over it but holy shit the whole world feels like it is shifted through a sunbeam

recently someone asked me if i could go back in time to 6th grade, with all the knowledge i have now, would i? and without thinking, i barked absolutely not. i know i should say it's because i wouldn't want to risk losing any of this stuff - but really it's because i would never survive being a teenager again. it sounds incredibly lame and impossible, fake - but being a teenager was the hardest thing i ever did. i had no voice, no control, only fear and hatred.

but i did survive it. nothing about me is special. nothing about me is stronger than you or better prepared or more efficient. i didn't survive it perfectly. i made a lot of mistakes and lost a lot of friends and harmed myself in ways that i'm still recovering from. but i did survive it. and there is a part of me looking at you in the past and saying - i'm you in the future.

and holy shit. every day. every goddamn day i'm glad we survived to see the rest of it. because you hit 18 and everything changes. like, everything. and holy shit, it is infinitely worth it.

[bookofmirth]

Uhhh what did I miss? Why are big artists leaving the fandom and what did fairyloot do?

Fairyloot didn't do anything - this fandom is just entitled and out of control.

Fairyloot released the designs for their special edition ToG a couple of days ago, and some people disliked it. I say "some" because the post now has 50k likes and plenty of people do actually like the designs, I personally like them and if I had the disposable income I'd buy them.

So people flooded the comments with complaints. I mean it's over 4k comments now. Not all of them are negative, but many of them are incredibly rude and entitled. Like astonishingly so.

But they couldn't leave it at that - they had to go to the page of the book designer and the fan artist and leave rude comments on their pages, too.

Do people have legit things that make sense to want to change? Perhaps. Making the stag white would make sense if that was literally supposed to be the Lord of the North and not just a stag. I guess the wyvern is the wrong color if it's supposed to literally be Abraxos and not just an abstraction of wyverns, of which there are many in the book. In terms of the color and design of the covers, they were going for a vintage look, which the book designer explained, and is something I clocked before she even made that comment.

And the allegations of plagiarism are ridiculous considering the similarities between the two special editions are elements coming from the damn series. I mean, a landscape? In art? Fucking revolutionary /s

The thing is, even if all of these feelings are justified - you can be sad that the colors aren't vibrant, you can be sad that they are relatively monochromatic, you can think that there are other, better special editions out there - that doesn't fucking mean that you need to tell the whole world how you feel, especially when it's going to negatively impact the people who worked really hard to create these books. And what's more, these special editions are a luxury item. No one has to buy them. No one is owed the specific design that they want.

These assholes probably already own and have read the series. If they think someone else has done it better, and for cheaper, then go buy that other version!!!! Go commission someone else for their hard work then, bestie! And you'll quickly find out that people's hard work and time is actually quite valuable and probably regret your decision.

All the comments saying it's a cash grab - I'm sorry, are you not on the page of a store that sells things in order to make money???? Are you fucking stupid???? "This thing that is completely optional to my ability to live and has no impact on my quality of life that I don't need to buy is too expensive and doesn't look how I would want it to" okay, and? Go cry to the group chat.

All the people saying "it's constructive comments/constructive criticism" -

Did they fucking ask??? Fairyloot didn't post asking what people think, they posted saying "here's the design". If you don't like it, don't buy it.

And there is a way to deliver constructive criticism that isn't harmful. A few hundred people commenting the same snarky, passive aggressive shit over and over is NOT constructive criticism. If people were really concerned about that message getting to Fairyloot and the artists, then all they would have to do is find a comment they felt expressed what they agree with - because there are plenty - like that comment, and perhaps respond saying that they agree. Engage with that comment. Don't fucking dogpile with the same. Goddamn. Comment. Over. And. Fucking. Over. And apparently there were a bunch of reels deconstructing how much the book design sucked too, which I didn't even watch or get into.

People are really out here on the internet acting like no one else is human or has feelings.

So yeah, now big artists are leaving the fandom and tbh, if I were a visual artist, I would have left a long time ago. Other well-known authors are commenting on those artists' posts (Sabaa Tahir, Stephanie Garber, Shannon Chakraborty) in support of the artists.

It's beyond embarrassing to be part of this community so I'm just... pretty much done with it.

[nesryn-x]

now I'm daydreaming about you

NSFW 18+

---mdni---

Levi makes sex addict out of reader

fuckboy!Levi x Erwin's sister!reader

-I’m every fucked up fantasy she’s afraid to speak out loud. - Levi at some point

----preview----

“So, she didn’t fuck Jean?” Sasha asked.

“Nope.” you stated.

“Didn't she sleep with Eren, though?” Historia asked.

“Happened once. In a dream.” you giggled, “But yeah, both of them were tipsy and it was a sloppy handjob.”

“Isn't Eren a fuckboy, though?” Sasha looked at you.

“Oi, I'm not a fuckboy.” Eren said, as he was now walking behind you three with Armin, Jean and Connie.

“That's what a fuckboy says.” Historia leaned to whisper in your ear.

“Can't call me a fuckboy if you haven't been underneath me.” Eren said, smirk playing on his lips. Armin facepalmed besides him, while Jean and Connie whistled.

“What the fuck, Ereh?” Mikasa come up behind him and slapped him on the head.

“Ow, Mikasa... hi...”

“Stop, flirting with Y/n so blatantly.” Mikasa stood in front of you, shielding you away from Eren.

“Why? Is she taken?” Connie peeped up.

Silence.

All eyes on you.

“Who is he? Do we know him?” Jean asked, hating the silence. You didn’t answer, because you were single. Single with unbelievably big crush on someone who doesn't really notice you.

“You don’t sleep with anyone, but... Is he good in bed?” Eren asked. And suddenly your thoughts fell upside down, midnight fantasies filling your head, making heat rush to your cheeks.

“Oh, wow, did I hit the jackpot?” Eren gently moved Mikasa to side, to look at your blushing face, his hand rising to softly touch your chin, lifting your face up to look at him.

“Aren't you a blushing mess.” He smirked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. You couldn’t lie, Eren was attractive looking, with all his bad boy vibe, his hair in messy bun, green eyes always hiding two personalities – childlike wonder and something darker. Something darker, that if he wanted, he could destroy everything and everyone.

"I bet I could do better-" Eren whispered, his lips now a lot closer to your own.

“Yeager!” Came Levi’s voice, a hand grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him away from you.

“Get your stinky paws off my sister.” Erwin stood in front of him.

“We're going to class; I think your brother can handle this.” Historia mumbled to you, looking at her wrist watch.

“I’ll be there in second.” you still were staring at your brother’s back.

“What were you doing, Eren?” Erwin asked, his dad voice on, making you roll your eyes behind him.

“Nothing, not my fault. Didn’t do anything.”

“Are you okay?” Erwin turned to look at you.

“Yeah. Eren was flirting. Unsuccessfully, might I add.” you stuck your tongue out at him.

“You were blushing!” Eren accused.

“Not because of your stupid flirting!” you spat back, eyes momentarily jumping to Levi.

“Enough. Eren, steer clear away from her. Understood? Hurt her, and I’ll hurt you.” Erwin cracked his knuckles.

“Understood, sir.” Eren nodded.

“Why don’t I make sure you make it to the class in one piece?” Erwin offered.

“Thanks, but no need.” Jean said.

“You little fuckers go to the same class as my sister.” Erwin pointed out. Boys only nodded and with Erwin on their heels, walked to the class, Levi following right after.

You just stood there.

Levi stopped and looked back at you; his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark university uniform pants.

“Are you coming?”

For you, yes. Was your first thought.

“Yeah.” With quick steps you caught up with them, passing Levi and following right behind Erwin.

Later that night at home you screamed at Erwin to stop being so overprotecting.

“So you can be the next random girl that he finger-fucks in school’s bathroom stall?” Erwin had snorted at your outburst.

“Ugh, you're so fucking weird.” you couldn’t come up with any comeback.

“See. I am right. Case closed.” he said and left to his room. With stomping of your feet, you left to your own room and plopped onto the bed.

That night you couldn’t sleep at all. Browsing internet all night, hoping to tire yourself out. With a huff you snuggled into your blankets and opened PH. Maybe, you needed different type of tired.

Knuckles deep, you imagined totally different people. You imagined totally different voices. Someone else’s moans and grunts.

And as your dirty fantasies were running wild, your hips rising to meet your nimble fingers, your phone slipped somewhere to the side. Your other hand falling on top of it, your bare skin coming in contact with the screen. But you were far too deep in catching your climax that you didn’t even notice what was happening in your phone.

“Ah...” you gasped. “Hahh...” your back arched from the bed.

“Fuck...” your breath hitched, orgasm finally hitting you as, barely audible, Levi, left your mouth.

After a moment of nothing but your racing heart, you laid in your bed, staring at the dark ceiling above you. Your hand slipping out of your panties and just resting at your sides. With disappointed sigh you got out of your bed to wash up when you got a notification on your phone.

L. Ackerman replayed your snap.

A Snapchat notification.

“The fuck?” you mumbled and laid back on the bed, grabbing your phone.

[chippedaxe]

stepbro george smut 🤤 if u could do hard dom george with fem reader?

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Title: 𝒮𝓉𝑒𝓅𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝑒𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒

Warnings: NSFW! (Minors DNI), coarse language, sub reader, hard dom, stepcest, degrading, teasing, masturbation, slapping, voyeurism, (unedited)

Pronouns: she/her AFAB

Synopsis: You and George are left alone at home which causes you to become bored and restless, you then bother George with your boredom.

Word count: 1.6k

Note: I'll try to write this the best I can, I don't rlly know how to write hard dom george but I'll try! Thank you for the request <3

* Let me know if there are any warnings or any other things to change !!

Welcome 🧝🏽‍♀️ anon btw!

*My emojis updates since I took that photo so now the emoji looks different

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Your eyes shifted to stare at your stepbrother George, you then quickly glanced away when he looked over at you. You heard him scoff a bit before he walked away, the heat rose to your cheeks and made you blush. You were sitting on the couch watching the TV and zoning out but stopped when you heard your parents at the door "We're leaving to stay at your aunts for the weekend! George is in charge of the house!" you had barely caught on to what they were saying as they had just suddenly left.

"George?" you called out to him just as your parents had left "yeah, what?" he came down the stairs "Why're our parents leaving?" you asked "didn't you listen to them? They're staying over with our aunt" George rolled his eyes at you "No yeah- I got that, but why?" you turned around on the couch so you two were now face to face "They left because you were annoying them too much" George snickered "Hey! That's mean- Why're they really leaving??" you got up from the couch.

George shrugged and started walking off "Don't be an asshole!" you crossed your arms and pouted "An asshole? Me? Never! I'm one of the kindest guys you'll ever meet, and I know you won't meet many but that's not the point" he teased you "HEY! What's that supposed to mean?" you followed him up the stairs "What? I'm just saying the truth!" George slipped into his bedroom and tried to get away from you, you groaned as he shut the door on you and went into your own room.

'George is an idiot, he keeps teasing me' you thought to yourself as you laid down on the bed, you tossed around in your sheets as you were becoming restless and bored. "I'm so BORED" you groaned out in boredom, your hands pulling at your face in agony "ughhhhh" you made random noises to try and satisfy your boredom "Hey- do you mind not being annoying?" George opened your door "I'm so bored though!" you exclaimed "Yeah well go and do something then, stop bothering me about it!" George went to slam your door but you stopped him "Why don't you hang out with me or something??" you suggested.

"Because you're just my dumb little sister" George walked off "C'mon! We can play a game or something!" you were desperately trying to satisfy your boredom "Why don't you just go on your phone like a normal person?" George left you alone once again. You slumped down onto the floor and held your head in your hands "Why's he always gotta be so difficult?" you huffed in annoyance, you take your phone out and decide to bother George over the internet.

You called him a bunch of times until he picked up "WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU WANT??" he screamed into the phone "I'm bored! Why don't you just hang out with meeeee?" you asked "because then you'll just complain the whole time!" George hung up but you repeatedly kept calling him "I'm literally so close to blocking you!" George sighed "We could play one of your video games??" you smiled as you thought he might finally agree to do something with you "I am not gonna let you touch my shit, just go touch yourself or something, I don't fucking know" he hung up again.

You blushed at his suggestion 'Touch myself? I can't believe he suggested that! He's a gross pervert!' you thought to yourself but your hand was ironically already subtly making its way down between your legs. His suggestion couldn't hurt and it was an easy way to pass sometime and cure your boredom, you had to be quiet though, George's room was literally right next to yours and you'd be embarrassed to hell if he heard you.

You pulled down your pants so they were hanging around your thighs and then you proceeded to rub yourself down there, you moaned quietly but then had to quickly shut yourself up. You leaned over on the bed and positioned yourself so your face was buried in the blankets and your fingers were rubbing at your sore clit, you were huffing and puffing into the sheets.

Your fingers slipped inside and you let out a small gasp, you moved your other hand to cover your mouth. Your eyes closed as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to releasing, your orgasm already approaching hastily, you didn't know that anyone was there watching you until you heard a clear coughing noise "Having fun?" you blushed all over. You slowly moved your hands and looked up at George "h-hey.." you gulped nervously, you stupid girl- why didn't you lock the door?!

"That looked fun, why'd you stop?" He crossed his arms over and looked down at you "B- Because you're watching me.." you whispered "If you didn't want my attention then you should've been more quiet. Fucking yourself right next to my bedroom? Naughty girl" George smirked "I- I-.." You tried to speak up but he didn't let you "Keep going" He ordered you. You meekly listened and started to touch yourself again "There's no use in hiding your voice, our parents are gone and I'm already here" George told you.

You let out a choked moan, you glanced away from George as his eyes were on you "Didn't know my sister was such a whore.. Getting off because I told you to, aren't you?" George teased, you nodded shyly "I knew it. Are you thinking about me while you do it?" He leaned in closer to breath hot hair onto your ear. You shiver from his warm breath "m- maybe.." you answer him "maybe isn't good enough, doll" George crawls on top of you and pins you to the bed.

You pull your hand away from your crotch and you try to back up a bit "Are you tryna run away? Just let me know now if you want me to leave" George gave you a way to back out but you rejected it "Fine with me, c'mere.." He leaned in and kissed your lips. You kissed him back gently, you were still half stunned that your stepbrother was here doing this to you. You pulled away quickly "G-George! You're my stepbrother!" you exclaimed "Yeah, you just realize that now?" George laughed and pulled you back in again.

"Come on, don't use me like this, you don't even like me!" you pushed him away "Who says I don't like you? I might tease you and you might annoy me but that's just regular sibling things, right?" George had a point "Is that all you think of me? Your sister?" he shakes his head "During the day I do, but at night-" He didn't finish his sentence as he captured your lips in another kiss.

You closed your eyes and kissed him back, your hands running through his hair as you two kiss. George pulled away for a bit of air and then started to roughly kiss at your neck "fuck.." you gasped "D- don't leave any marks!" you warned him "And if I do? Just put some makeup on" George bit down on your neck "ah!" you moaned from his little actions.

"Did you stretch yourself earlier?" George started to unbuckle his belt, you nodded and opened your legs to show your aching hole "You're such a slutty sister.." George bit his lip as he zipped down his pants and positioned himself at your entrance, he slowly slid in and you let out a loud groan "ahhhhh fuckkkkk.." you threw your head back.

He grunted as he started to thrust inside of you, his cock felt huge inside of you, the tip of his dick was hitting every part inside of you and it felt amazing! You held onto his arms and dug your nails into his shoulders "S-shit!" you swallowed down another moan "Damn, you gonna cum already?" George teased you. He started to buck his hips even faster, his free hand was bruising your hip while the other one was clamped around your neck and holding your head up to look at him.

"Cum for me, cum for your fucking stepbrother" he slapped you across the face which left a tingle on your skin. You came just after he had slapped you, your pussy clenched around him and he groaned loudly "oh fuck-" he didn't mean to but he ended up cumming inside of you after you had an orgasm. You laid down on the bed and tried to catch your breath, George sighed and left the room to grab a washcloth.

He started to clean your insides, his hand sliding inside of you just to clean the cum out "Ow!" you winced "Sorry Y/n.." he whispered "What're you being so nice to me now for?" you asked "I'm your brother, I can still be nice and an annoying dickhead" he smiled up at you. "What'd you slap me for by the way? Now my cheek hurts.." you whined "to knock some sense into you" George joked around "asshole."

[a-simple-imagine]

An Afterthought pt.2

Synopsis: Maeve shows up on your doorstep one night all sad and what not then leaves. Now it’s your turn to try and make amends. 

Pairing: Queen Maeve x fem!reader

Words: 4.1+

A/N - Did someone call for an angsty part 2 to a story i put out almost a year ago?? I got a fair few requests for this so here it is. I hope you enjoy it sorry if you don’t. request are open btw.

Warning - Swearing, violence and a very brief mention of zombies. 

Part 1 

Thoughts about Maeve are more frequent as of late. What was once just a passing thought as you spotted her face on magazine covers or painted on walls now became bothersome. What exactly had brought her to your doorstep that night? It had just been so unexpected. It left you so painfully curious for answers. There had to be more to the story. Not to mention, you also found yourself missing here once again: more so than before. A deep ache that came from an old forgotten wound that had begun to heal through time. A week had passed before you decided to do something stupid. It's amazing what you can find out online these days.

A bright sun sat high in the sky which left the air dry and you feeling warm. The hustle and bustle of city life was always your least favourite thing about living here and it was even worse today. Crowds of people stand behind a barrier that was maned by a few security guards. Did these people not having anything better to do than gawk at supes all day? You had basically scrubbed the internet to find out where she would be today which lead to a Twitter thread between someone called @MAEVESWIFE and @maelander who were talking about a vought commercial being shot outside the tower today. Queen Maeve and Homelander would both be there. But at least you personally knew here unlike these guys. It was kind of cool how many people idolised them. Working your way through the crowd, you earned some very dirty looks for trying to get to the front. Homelander and Maeve were in fact stood before a crew of people and a few cameras, smiling brightly and saying something you couldn't quite hear. Maeve seemingly spots you among the crowd so you wave a little. It was hard to figure out if she was happy or furious but she signals for a break and charged towards you. The crowd erupts with excitement as the Queen herself graces them with her presence and Homelander trails behind her. The woman offers nothing but polite smiles to the adoring fans as she takes your hand leading you along the length of the barrier and over to the threshold. It was safe to say that just about everyone who was still standing behind the security guards was very pissed off that you were getting special treatment.

"What are you doing here?" She growls through gritted teeth and a plastered on smile that disappears once you're out of view from prying eyes.

"I wanted to see you after-"

"Who's this?" You both turn to him and then back to each other.

"Oh my god, it's Homelander," You express, plastering on your brightest smile. Tall, Muscular with an award-winning smile. Bright blue eyes and silky blonde hair. The one and only Homelander walks up beside the two of you. It was almost humbling to be standing before the leader of the seven. He was so powerful- they both were and you were nothing short of ordinary.

"This is a closed set,"

Maeve didn't seem to know what to say exactly so you take it upon yourself to introduce yourself to him as her friend. Although you weren't even sure you could call yourself that at this point. It was a complicated relationship and considering you had broken up, it was the most appropriate label.

"Oh, She has never mentioned you,"

You're about to answer when Maeve takes your arm abruptly and pulls you away from the man. "Will you give us a second,"

A little confused, you give him a little wave goodbye paired with an awkward little smile. His eyes seem to trail after you but you think nothing of it.

"He's taller than expected," You muse aloud as attention falls back to your ex-girlfriend. Arms crossed over her chest and with a less than favourable expression on her face, it's pretty clear she isn't happy. Now she knows what it's like to have an ex show up unannounced.

"What do you want?" Maeve whisper yells at you. "I'm a little busy."

"I know just..." A quick glance to Homelander who had returned to his adoring fans. He had superhearing so you were pretty sure he could still hear you anyway. "after the other night I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"If everything was fine you wouldn't show up on my doorstep." A casual shrug of your shoulders. Maeve may be able to fake a smile for the cameras but it was always pretty obvious to you when she was lying to you.

"I said I'm fine. You need to leave."

"Maeve," A soft sigh leaves your lips and you take her hand in yours; brushing your thumb over the back of her hand. "You can talk to me."

"Leave," She growls, pulling her hand away. "Please."

"We need to talk about the other night- you at least owe me that."

With a deep breath, Maeve turns on her heel and begins to walk away. "I'm busy,"

For a moment you just watched her walk away then jogged after her. "Then we can talk later- you could come by tonight? I'll even make dinner."

"Fine. Now leave."

This time you let her walk away and continue making her little advertisement. You wouldn't admit to her that you stuck around a little longer. Even got a chance to talk to Homelander a little before heading home. Chill dude, if not a little intimidating. Maybe it had been a stupid idea to invite your ex-girlfriend over for dinner but you wanted to get to the bottom of all this. You were actually a little nervous for her to arrive. Cooking had never been your specialty but you wanted everything to be perfect. A quick stop on the way home to buy groceries, you worked on dinner since getting home. pacing around as you waited for her to arrive. And waited. And waited. and waited. Lucky for the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach, Maeve didn't show up. It probably should have been expected. She had never been the most reliable person unless she was saving the world apparently.

A loud bang has you stirring awake before the sun. It was probably just the neighbours; a loud groan as you bury your face into the covers to go back to sleep. But the banging doesn't stop and you soon realise it's your door. Rolling over, you check your phone to see it's four in the morning. What could anyone want at this time in the morning? Dragging yourself from under the protection of the duvet, you cautiously head to the door. Peaking through the peephole to see... Queen Maeve. "Just give me a chance."

A chance? You weren't sure she deserved any more of those but you still unlock the door and pull it open. Glancing over her as she offers up a smile. Does she ever wear anything other than her armour? "Chances comes after nine am." You protest putting what little strength you had into trying to close the door. It was effortless on her end to keep it open.

"You invited me over, remember?"

"I invited you over for dinner, Maeve. No sane person has dinner at four in the morning."

"I forgot I had a team-up with Black Noir- Just let me in."

With a defeated sigh, you step aside and retire to the couch. Slumped down against the cushions, your head falls back as your eyes flutter closed. The click of your door infers she follows you inside.

"Tired?"

"Mhmm." You hum, nodding nonchalantly.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee?" Maeve suggests and again, you nod. She was familiar with the apartment so she knew where everything was but it still felt a little odd to have her wandering around with such familiarity. Who just shows up this early for a serious talk? A silence comes between the two of you. She may have attempted to keep the conversation going in between asking if you wanted coffee and delivering it to you but you didn't notice. Sitting up as a hand is gently placed against your shoulder, she hands over a large mug.

Blowing gently over the top before you take a tentative sip; warmth radiated from the liquid as it slips down your throat. Maeve joins you, perching on the edge of the couch as if she was ready to leave again. Maybe she was now regretting her decision to visit. You were kind of regretting opening the door instead of just going back to sleep instead. Since you were up anyway, might as well make the most of it.

"I can- I can make you breakfast or something if you want? Since you... missed dinner."

"Oh great, yeah," Maeve responds.

"What would you like? Cereal, toast, pancakes maybe?"

"Pancakes would be great." Of course, they would. She had to pick the option that required the most effort. You didn't mind making her something as much as you just didn't want to get up.

"Alright just... give me a moment to wake up."

"You won't wake up if you keep trying to go back to sleep," A snarky remark that earned her a small smile, your middle finger shoots up in response. The two of you just sit in silence together and every few seconds or so you'd take a sip of the coffee she made. It was all feeling a little awkward. Placing the mug down on the coffee table, you rise and get started on making breakfast. Maeve moves from the couch to the kitchen table, fiddling with the little salt and pepper shakers that always resided there. You don't know what to say and clearly, neither does she.

"So... how are things?" You question as you whisk the mixture together.

"I'm fine, I guess" She shrugs a little. You can't help but sigh a little. "What?"

"Nothing," you insist, grabbing the frying pan and place it over a medium heat; Adding a blob of butter and some oil. "If you don't want to talk Maeve then why did you bother to come over?"

Placing down the salt and pepper shaker with a clink, her attention falls to you. "because you asked."

"Yeah, I asked to talk about the other night. You were clearly messed up."

"Why is it so hard to believe I was just looking to fuck?"  It was really hard to believe but rather that you just knew it wasn't true. You were pretty sure Maeve had her choice of partners should she require one. So why come to your door?

"Because I'm not stupid" You pour the mixture into the pan with a satisfying sizzle. "I know you well enough to know that's bull."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought."

Flipping the pancake over, you're taken back by her comment. Did you know Maeve as well as you thought? You had never expected her to just up and leave you one day and she did? She lived an entire superhero life that you knew nothing about. Maeve had always been pretty private when it came to that side of herself. You make another couple of pancakes before serving her up a plate.

"You aren't eating?"

"Too early," you return, taking up the seat opposite her. You watch as her fork pierce the surface of the pancake, cutting off a small piece and pop it into her mouth.

"Taste okay?"

"They're good," Mouth hidden behind the palm of her hand as she mumbled through her food. It lowered a moment later.  "I came over because my job is hard. I was the in the area, I was having a tough day."

"A tough day?" Getting any sort of details out of her was like pulling teeth. Why was she so reluctant to speak to you? If she didn't want to have this conversation she should have just no turned up like she hadn't for dinner. Would have saved the effort and you could be sleeping right now.

"Yeah,"

"That's that then." Hands slap against the table as you rise from the seat. No point in sticking around if this wasn't going anywhere.  "Case closed. When you're finished just leave the plate in the sink, I'm going back to bed."

"Seriously?"

"You woke me up at four am just to tell me you had a bad day. Shit, I have plenty of bad days, I don't show up at Vought tower." You start walking back towards your bedroom although your slow, hesitant even like you were just waiting for an excuse to turn back.

"I really was having a bad day," she repeats. "Really bad. And all I could think about was seeing you." And getting drunk, guess she just conveniently forgot about that part. There were many moments although brief where you were having a hard time and you thought about going to see Maeve. She used to be such a big part of your life it was almost an instinct to return to her for comfort. You never actually did obviously. As pathetic as her explanation was, it brought you back to the dining table. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends."

"What's the worst thing you could ever imagine?"

"Huh?" What kind of question was that?

"Just answer it,"

Your mouth opens but no answer comes to mind at all. You were more curious about the reason behind it. It's too early for philosophical debates and it had nothing to do with anything you had been talking about. "uh, I don't know... post-apocalyptic zombie invasion, maybe?"

"Can you take this seriously?"

"I am," you huff. It was a stupid question anyway. "Zombies-"

"really freak you out, I remember." Strange thing to remember. It couldn't have come up in conversation often. It was a little funny the small things people remembered about each other. "I meant something that could actually happen though. I've seen some pretty fucked up shit."

"Like what?" She turns to you like she's about to say something but quickly stops herself. Continuing the eat the breakfast you so lovingly prepared. With the way she had been playing with her food, you suspected she no longer wanted it despite having hardly eaten any.

"Being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sometimes I wish I could just live a normal life or whatever"

"Nothing glamorous about a normal life," You stifle a yawn. "I think I'd rather be adored by millions and save the day but we aren't all lucky enough to have powers."

"Lucky," A bitter laugh. "I wouldn't call myself lucky."

"You're being so weird." You comment, a quirked brow.

"I would rather be adored by one person who truly means it."

"Guess that's all anyone wants. Supe or not."

Her eyes meet yours for a few seconds before dropping. Did she mean you? There was no doubt you had feelings for the woman and very much still did. But you can't imagine it's anything compared to the weirdos who worship the ground she walks on. They obviously didn't really know her and vice versa but still. There was an element of pureness that came with being so dedicated to someone. "You never answered my question."

"I don't know Maeve it's too early..." You grumble. "Do you want me to say something like war or famine or something?"

"Not unless it's the truth."

Everyone wished for world peace. Everyone wanted to feed the hungry. House the homeless. Basic answers that any decent person would come up with. It lacked originality. It lacked feeling. Everyone would probably have a more personal reason."What's yours?"

"Something happening to you... because of me."

"Really? That's the worst thing you can think of?" Didn't she just say she had seen a lot of messed up stuff and yet her concern resided with you? What did she think would happen? And didn't a broken heart technically count as something happening because of her? Shifting in your seat, you lean down onto the table before you. Thinking of your own answer. The worst thing you could imagine?

"I answered," she shrugs but doesn't elaborate. "Now you go."

"I guess... finding out you died," Should you admit something like that? "You're the strongest person I know. I still... care for you. I'm not sure I would handle it well- Is that a better answer?"

"It's sufficient."

"Sufficient? I really don't know what you want from me Maeve? I don't know what the worst thing is, okay? I'm too tired for this shit."

She places her cutlery carefully on the plate, pushing out her seat. "I should go."

"Maeve?"

"I'll go, you can go back to bed. I don't even know why I came here."

"No. Stay. I wanna talk."

" Let's just forget this ever happened." Brushing herself off, Maeve heads back towards the door. This whole back and forth was growing awfully tiresome. Every time you thought you scratched the surface of her mask, there was a new layer underneath more impenetrable than the last. Maybe you should just let her go? It'd be easier. It was probably for the best too but when she had shown up at your door the other night, you realised just how much you still wanted this. Still wanted her. She may have left you one day without any explanation but seeing her for the first time in a long time had brushed all rational thought aside. You were in love with her even now. Tears brimmed your eyes whether it was due to tiredness or a flush of emotions, it was unclear.

"If you walk out that door I'm done," You declare as confidently as you can. Hoping your sadness was hidden amongst the dim light that filled the entire room. "Don't bother showing up on my doorstep when you have a shitty day." Maeve pauses with her hand on the doorknob but only for a second before twisting the handle and pulling open the door. "Maeve...  just tell me what's going on with you, please."

"Everything I have done to you was to protect you." Final words as she leaves. The door clicking behind her. To protect you? From what? What was she even talking about anymore. Anger bubbles deep inside you and you find yourself charging after her. Bursting out into the chilly hallway, you catch her in the corner of your eye. She was leaning against the wall just outside your apartment basking in the flicker of the corridor light.

"Protect me from what?" You wonder quietly, taking a wary step closer. "I don't understand."

"...Homelander." Voice but a whisper mumbled into the darkness. Homelander? The Homelander? Why would you need protection from him, you didn't even know him? Plus he was like a beloved superhero and the last time you checked, superheroes were the good guys.

"You're scared of... the world's greatest superhero?"

"Never meet your heroes."

"Aren't you two like friends? You even dated him. Why are you scared of him?" Another step closer, you lay your hand tenderly on her shoulder. An attempt to support her even if you didn't understand the situation. "He didn't seem so bad when I met him yesterday. I actually spoke with him after."

"You spoke after? Why?" Maeve snarled swiftly making you back away a little only for her hand to snap around your wrist. Cold fingertips apply a deep pressure to your skin as if it's taking everything in her not to press harder. You swallow hard, confused by her anger. "I told you to leave"

"It- it's not a big deal. He just wanted to know more about us," Even you can hear the panic in your voice as you struggle to get the words out. It was a little embarrassing, to say the least, but you'd never really experienced this side of Maeve before. Her anger had never really been directed towards you.

"And you told him?"

"Yeah. He took it pretty well actually, I was surprised. "

"How can you be so fucking stupid?" Her grasp begins to stiffen around your wrist. Maeve was strong, inhumanly so. If she wanted to she could break every one of your bones like it was nothing. That never used to bother you so much but in this instance, your own weakness had never been more apparent.

"Maeve," You struggle against her grip, a pleading look as you meet the brown of her eyes. "...You're scaring me,"

Those magic words seemed to break the spell that had come over her and Maeve released you in an instant. Regret washing off her face in record time. "I'm sorry, okay- I'm sorry," You take a step back; the other hand rubbing at the wrist she just let go off. "I didn't mean to- I wouldn't hurt you."

"I... let's just go back inside." It's hard to pretend that didn't just happen. That Maeve didn't almost crush your wrist for doing the wrong thing. But it wasn't her fault, right? She just isn't herself at the moment. Her emotions got the best of her when she found out you told Homelander about your relationship. Warily, you hold out your hand in offering. It's a little shakey but you just hope she doesn't notice as she takes your hand and you lead the way back into your apartment. Shutting the door behind the two of you, you return to the couch. Sat on either ends so you're as far away as possible without being on the floor, things are feeling a little awkward now. You can't help but focus on your wrist, the feeling of her hand still lingers in a ghostly embrace. "I'm sorry I told Homelander about us."

"You didn't know..."Maeve lets out a heavy sigh as she turns to face you. "Homelander is a monster. He's hurt people just for looking at me funny- "

"Oh." A little surprising to hear. You had always kind of suspected Homelander was a bit of an arsehole but not that he was inherently a bad person. He saves people after all. You've seen him save people. He was basically on the news every other day or in the newspaper or trending on Twitter. There was no evidence to supporting Maeve's theory but you also had no reason not to trust her. She had no reason to lie to you.

"He's done atrocious things. He's made me do atrocious things. I was trying to protect you from him- and from myself,"

"...Why are you telling me this now?" Couldn't she have just told you all this from the beginning? It still didn't explain why she had just shown up the other day either? Clearly, something had happened between her and Homelander at least that's what you gathered from the context.

"To keep you safe," Maeve returns. "So you'll stop hating me."

"I could never hate you," An offer of a faint smile that may or may not betray you. When she had first left you, you were so filled with hatred but it was so hard to stay angry at her. You didn't hate her anymore but you couldn't say you were simply over it now. "It's not your fault."

"It is though- I put you in this situation. I let those people die,"

"What are you talking about? What people?" Every time Maeve opened her mouth you grew slightly more confused and you didn't know how to help. Watching her with an inquisitive eye, you notice as a tear or two begins to glide down her rose-tinted cheeks. It was enough to bring your walls crashing down. Whatever she was talking about must be really affecting her for her to start crying. A hand reaches out only to pull back as you remember what happened last time. You take a deep breath, sitting up a little straighter.

"I should have stood up to him but I was scared."

"Scared of Homelander," You repeat. Still trying to process the information.

"I don't want to be a monster like him." Against your better judgement, this time you shuffle closer and entice her into a soothing hug. Holding onto her tightly like you never wanted to let go because frankly, you didn't. Maeve was warm, she was safe. You wanted to offer her that same sense of comfort even if it was impossible. You wanted to drown in her affection.

"You're not a monster, Maeve" The other woman melts into your caring touch, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You were so used to confident, super-strong Maeve that it was a little weird to have her be so vulnerable. Especially sober. But even your words weren't enough to trick your brain into quelling that twinge of fear that now resides in you. "Whatever's going on, I'm gonna help you get through it. I promise."

[iwishicanbeagoodpianist]

the Wifilcon and the Winter Router

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC/Reader Summary: When Bucky learns that his neighbor has been stealing his wifi for months. Warnings: None A/N: I'm not a fanfic writer at all, this, like all my stories, are adaptations to fanfics. My original stories are not written in english, so this is also a translation. please do not repost my work

For an instant, Bucky thought that the knocking he was hearing was coming directly from his head, I mean, it wouldn't be the first time his mind played tricks on him, but he realized that the sound was actually coming, unluckily for him, from his apartment door. Oh no no no no no no no, I just got back from putting up with Sam for almost 6 full weeks, I don't need interaction with more people for now.

Bucky thought for a minute to ignore the sound, to wait for the person to give up and leave, anyway he didn't spend many days on this apartment, almost no one had seen him leave or enter the building and he had no contact with the neighbors, only with the lady on the 7th floor who once lost one of her cats, which ended up in Bucky's apartment, accidentally. Not that I found the cat in the alley and actually brought him to my apartment, it doesn't mean that I stole the cat, he was in the street by himself, I rescued him.

When the banging on the door stopped and Bucky thought he could breathe calmly again, a voice between altered and annoyed was heard all the way to the living room where he was sitting trying to overcome his third panic attack and fourth existential crisis of the day .

-"I know you're in there! I saw you coming in a few hours ago! I've been waiting for days for you to come back!"-

More out of instinct than anything else, Bucky pulled out the knife hidden in his right boot as he slowly backed away from the door. Do I really have a spy as a neighbor? Should I call Sam? Is he in danger too? Never mind now, you need an escape route Bucky, concentrate, third floor, window to the alley, 2 minutes max, the bike is parked far away, I'll have to run, but to where, rendezvous point, safe place, think....

- "for God's sake, open the door, I need you to pay for your fucking internet plan, I'm in the last season of my series and I need to know if Carolina died or not!"-

- "The internet?"- Between the andrenaline from escaping and the shock of not understanding what was happening Bucky spoke louder than an assassin, with over 60 years of experience, should have spoken. Oh, shoot.

-"Yes! Your wifi, I need it to finish watching my series"-

Whispering "wifi" to himself, Bucky tries to remember where he has heard that word before, this is what I get for never listening to Sam when he talks to me. But before he can continue his mental analysis of all the conversations with Sam about such stupid things as his favorite American Football team, the New Orleans Saints, that I remember, to how Antonio could possibly leave María on the last episode of the 6 o'clock telenovela of which Sam is a fan, his apparent "neighbor" spoke up again:

-"Jesus Christ, can you open the door? So we can resolve this like adults"-

Bucky resigned to the fact that he has given his position to the "enemy", walks to the door and opens it waiting for his death. Well at least if I die I won't have to listen to Sam again talking about Antonio and María. But on the other side of the door, there was a woman, who in her pajamas, very unthreatening but cute, was watching him as if he were a ghost but still with defiance in her eyes, in one breath she introduced herself and continued her speech about her complaint to Bucky:

-"As I was saying, I need you to pay for your internet"-

-"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I understand what you mean"- mumbled Bucky.

- "Good Lord"- To Bucky's surprise his neighbor, pushes him and enters his home, well not so much a home home, more like the headquarters of his secret club, of which he is the president, vice president and only member, the point is that it is his place, where he can (and wants to be alone), as she lives here. This must be a dream, maybe I hit my head too hard in the last mission and I am unconscious in the hospital.

Crossing the room, Bucky's unwanted visitor looks around searching for something while whispering the words "I see you are quite minimalist, but maybe this is too much, someone urgently needs to look for some inspiration on Pinterest". She stops abruptly in front of the shelf where, in theory, a TV should go, while shouting: "EUREKA", she bends down and picks up a white device which has two antennas and like a million little blinking lights, damn, that looks like something out of a spaceship, I'm being watched by aliens? I'm being spied on by Kree?

-"This is your router, this is where the internet signal comes from, which I need you to pay for so I can finish watching my series"-.

Bucky, still in shock for the third time in less than 15 minutes, as he processes the idea that perhaps Thanos' unknowing twin is spying on him for a second invasion of earth and revenge for his brother's death. He can only nod to his now more relaxed and happy neighbor.

-"Perfect, thanks! I need to check the food I left in the oven, I'll talk to you later"- and as quickly as she came she left through the same door, leaving Bucky with more doubts than answers, peeking down the hallway, he realizes that she is the neighbor who lives next door, to his right. When Bucky comes out of his initial stupor, still not fully understanding what is going on, he decides to take his cell phone out of his pocket and call his own personal Google to solve his doubts about this century: Sam Wilson.

-"Hey Buck! What's up?"-how does he always manage to sound so happy? focus Buck.

-"What the hell is a router and why do I have one in my house?"- somehow Bucky manages to formulate, although maybe his voice cracked a little on the last words.

-"That thing's been there for at least two months and you didn't even notice it? Have you even paid the bill?"-

-"You put this in here? Without telling me????"- maybe Sam is also a Kree? Who can I trust now? It's all a trap?

Listening to Bucky's accelerated breathing, Sam tries to explain to him slowly, that in this century life without internet is not life, but obviously as Bucky does not even know how to set the alarm on his own cell phone, he was in charge of buying the router and creating the contract with the company so that, the 106 year old man could have his personal network at home. He had given it the name but he had not given it a password so that Bucky himself could set it up later. "I am an excellent friend, I mean co-worker, if I may say so"

-"Sorry man, after all that happened, we got called for a mission and I forgot to tell you, do you have your laptop over there? I'll help you set up a password, so your neighbors won't steal your internet anymore"- and with that comment everything started to make sense in Bucky's slightly screwed up but functional mind about the events with his seemingly non-spy and harmless neighbor.

Meanwhile Bucky was trying to remember his own password to unlock the laptop in front of him, also courtesy of Sam. "Bucky, when you learn about online banking and that you can pay your rent, electricity, phone and everything with a click of your computer, you will thank me". It should be noted that Bucky hasn't used that laptop once, like a good 100 year old grandpa he goes to the bank to make his deposits and pay his debts, which obviously consisted only of electricity, water, gas and phone because the man had no idea that there was a device in his house that spit out internet, apparently only his next door neighbor knew this. Buck tells Sam how he thought his router was an alien device and how he thought his neighbor was a KGB agent coming to kill him. "Relax Buck we all have undesirable neighbors that steal our internet signal sometimes", well undesirable is not the word I would use to describe her but ok.

When Sam finally explains to him how to connect his computer to the internet, Bucky can finally see the name that his wonderful co-worker, not friend, because he could never be friends with someone so stupid as to think that the name "THE WIFILCON AND THE WINTER ROUTER" was a good name.

- "my god Sam, you're such an asshole!"-

-"HEY! That's a great name!"- Sam responds with as much indignation as possible, he's the best at naming everything from dogs to wifis.

- "I can't believe you're Captain America, I can't believe we're even friends"- Bucky really can't understand his luck to have friends, well, co-workers whatever.

- "Well excuse me but we're co-workers..."-

- "Well, take this call as my formal resignation, bye"-

-"Wait a minute Buck..."- Bucky ended the call, to finish -his self-imposed- punishment of listening to Sam Wilson talk for over an hour. At least I asked him how to use the bank's website to pay for the internet. Suddenly, without warning and without explanation, the memory of his neighbor is lodged in his head, her hair in a ponytail, her reading glasses, pink shorts, her sweater from some university of which he can't even remember the name because he was watching out for other things... that she wouldn't kill me obviously, he was watching out that she wouldn't pull a knife out of her back and kill me right there. The message on his laptop indicating that he can now set a new name and password to his wifi distracts him enough to stop thinking about his sweet and cute non-spy neighbor and how she would look with her hair down and her glasses off.

Still with the sweet feeling in his chest and the desire to see her again he writes as the new name of the wifi, while laughing:

"If you want free internet, you owe me at least one free dinner"

After paying the internet debt and closing the laptop, Bucky gets up hoping to find something edible in the kitchen, while leaning over to look inside his fridge and analyzing how bad it would be to eat a fried egg with pasta and sriracha, he hears again a knock on the door, but this time it does not cause Bucky the anguish and anxiety that caused him the first time, but quite the opposite.

-"Open the door Winter Router! I prepared chicken pot pie for dinner"-.

[angelguk]

→ pu$$y fairy — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 3.2k

genre: smut + college!au + jeongguk and oc are in a weird fwbs without the friendship part just the benefits except jaykay lowkey has feelings + virginity au

warnings: virgin!oc / blowjob / we talk about dicks for a bit / oc is strange / jaykay is confused / cum swallowing / first times / not really edited / mingyu the meddling best fwend

soundtrack: on the way, jhene aiko + hold on (slowed and reverb), the internet

Jeongguk doesn’t hate Mingyu. He truly doesn’t. He is one of his closest friends after all; he’d held him up after Jeongguk had dumped half a keg down his throat and his legs had promptly collapsed.  He’d also been a successful wingman for when Jeongguk was aiming to add Seolhyun to the list of girls he’d bagged, sent pictures of his organic chemistry notes when Jeongguk had missed more than half of the classes in high school and didn’t laugh at him when he was heart-broken over Sua and borderline depressed. He was a true friend; someone Jeongguk could rely on. It was a simple brother-like relationship that Jeongguk deeply treasured. So no, he could never hate Mingyu – but he could absolutely long to punch that insufferable asshole in the face.

He should have known this was going to go downhill exceptionally fast the moment you stumbled into his room, wide-eyed and nervous in your unsure steps. When his pants had hit the ground, the shock in your eyes was a dead giveaway to how messy this whole arrangement was going to be. The second clear sign was when you jumped out his window because the sight of his bare dick terrified you.

And this was all the result of Mingyu being a meddling shit who didn’t know when to mind his business.

He remembers it with a clarity that makes his shoulders tense, how Mingyu had snuck you into the conversation while twisting a soju bottle in his hands.

“Yo… JK…. You mind if I ask you a question?” He’d said. Jeongguk shrugged, focused on flipping the meat on the grill because he was starving and the prospect of cooked meat was a lot more appealing than feigning interest in a conversation. “Alright…," Mingyu took his silence as a cue to speak. “Have you ever fucked a virgin?”

He should have known then. He really should have known.

“I don’t know. I don’t ask any questions when I’m hard,” Jeongguk had replied, unknowing of the dangerous path this conversation was guiding him down.

“Yeah and most of the time you don’t fuck on an actual bed. I’m not even surprised you don’t ask questions.”

“Hey!” Jeongguk had swung the tongs around. “I ask important ones, like consent and making sure we’ve got a condom around. But virginity? Not my concern.”

“Seems a bit…. Whorish to me.”

“Not whorish. I just have my priorities elsewhere… Like cumming for example.”

Mingyu had sighed as he poured him a shot, the air leaving his lips heavy. “I shouldn’t even be asking you to be honest. You’re a decent guy but your kind of a dickhead when it comes to sex.”

“How does not pondering on virginity make me dickhead? Again, as I said, priorities are elsewhere.”

“Dude you’ve never even tried to have meaningful sex at least once in your life. When was the last time you were actually emotionally invested in the person you were sleeping with? Hmm?”

The answer was Sua and he knew that but Mingyu was decent enough to keep her name out of his mouth, the judging look in his eyes saying enough.

“You know… I don’t do well with the whole emotional thing. I prefer it physical. It’s less messy. But what does this even have to do with virginity?” Jeongguk hated to admit it but he was somewhat interested in where this conversation was going. If only he knew it was leading to a massive train wreck of the one thing, he steered clear from – emotions.

Mingyu had just sighed again, tipping the soju bottle into his shot glass once more. “There’s a girl who I’d like you to meet.”

He’d scoffed, mouth stuffed with a perilla leaf wrap. “You know I don’t do blind dates.”

“It’s not a blind date,” Mingyu had retorted, the glance he threw at his friend’s direction precarious. “She wants you to take her virginity.”

Jeongguk had choked. Of course, he had. Even if sex didn’t mean much to him, taking someone’s first time like that felt very transactional. And Jeongguk wasn’t that big of a dickhead. But then Mingyu had opened his mouth, spewing various details about your life to him that he would rather have not heard over a KBBQ lunch. You were a friend from one of his business lectures, rather eccentric but sweet and funny. You were also a virgin and terrified of approaching men on your own, one of the reasons Mingyu had sprung up this arrangement. Jeongguk wasn’t one to fall into things like this but it was too late. Mingyu was a marketing major for a reason, he knew how to spin words in his favour, convince people into agreeing to things that they normally would not. And that’s how Jeongguk found himself staring at your retreating figure after you’d thrown your body right out his window, landing hard on the lawn of the house he rented with Namjoon and Seokjin. The crazy thing was that you’d gotten up immediately, not showing any sign of a broken bone or injuries, before promptly sprinting down the road to the bus stop. He should have known then. He really should have known. And yet, here he is, pants discarded on the floor of his room and his dick aching from being unrelieved for longer than it’s ever been, while you crouch over him, squinting at his penis like it’s a foreign object that could kill you.

“Could you please stop staring at my penis like that.” He says it out of frustration, but also the way you’re examining his length makes him feel self-conscious in a way he hasn’t felt like in a long time.

“Sorry,” you murmur, not breaking eye contact with his dick. “I’m just… fascinated. It’s rather….” The sentence tapers out and you swallow hard as if it pains you to admit it, “...Ugly.”

Jeongguk decides then and there he hates you.

“I mean... It’s not that it’s ugly!” you swiftly attempt to amend, catching the glare he directs at you. “It’s also big!”

“I know. And you just said it was ugly,” Jeongguk retorts, weighing the options in his head. Either get a poor blowjob from a girl he’s terrified of (but also bizarrely attracted too) or kick you out of his room and finish himself off. The situation sucks either way but it’s better than the last time when you’d leapt out of the window like a gazelle.

“I misspoke,” you say, gently falling onto your knees. You flash him a shy smile, a soft delicate little thing that makes your eyes glitter and Jeongguk instantly picks the first option. “It’s just different to what I expected it to look like.”

He scoffs, swallowing hard on the sudden lump in his throat. “There’s no way you haven’t seen a dick before. You don’t watch porn?”

The grimace you make is enough of an answer. “I have… Not all the time though, it’s too much for me sometimes. Also, it’s weird seeing it in real life and not, like, through a screen.”

“Noted. But still, it’s not that ugly,” Jeongguk murmurs, trying not to compare his penis to the visuals he has in his head. His pride is wounded from that comment he won’t deny it.

“It kinda is,” you reply. Jeongguk flicks your forehead in retaliation. “Ow! Why’d you do that.” There’s that stupid pout in your lips as you glower at him. He despises how his dick twitches at the sudden thought of your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. Despises it even more when you gasp at the slight motion trembling through him. “It moves?!”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighs, wondering how on Earth you’re over the age of twenty and still like this. “It does. Also, don’t insult my dick. It’s rude.”

“Sorry again,” you pause as if you’re considering whether what you might utter next is offensive. You open your mouth anyway, unable to comprehend the fact that your words are slowly chipping away at his ego. “It’s kinda scary that it moves.”

“Oh my god, you are the literal worst.” Jeongguk thinks his boner might evaporate. It’s a miracle it’s lasted this long. You’d sauntered into his room around half an hour again and he’d been hard from the get-go. Truly amazing his balls hadn’t shrivelled up yet. “You know you’re about to blow me off right?”

“I know… I’m stupid,” you counter, eyebrows furrowing together like you’re attempting to figure out exactly how Jeongguk’s dick works. It’d be very simple if you just asked him. It’s essentially an up and down motion, some swirls, a lot of wetness. Nothing too difficult. But when you glance up at him, the innocent glaze over your eyes almost hopeless, he can tell it feels the same as defusing a bomb. “I just… Don’t know what to do. Show me?”

And there it is - the foolish little thing that landed Jeongguk here half-naked on the edge of his bed in the first place. Even though you were mildly repulsed by the male autonomy you were still so eager to learn. Something Jeongguk didn’t know he would be into until you posed that question and his balls tightened in a way they have never done before.

“Okay,” he mumbles, hoping you don’t suspect the twitch that runs through his length when you say that. Not like you would, to be fair.

But then you sweep your hair back, lean in fast, no preparation or anything before your breath is brushing against his crotch and Jeongguk nearly screams.

“Woah, woah, woah! I thought you just asked me to show you? What are you doing?” Maybe he scuttles further down the bed, terrified of the rush of heat you send straight to his gut.  

Your eyes flicker upward, bright and ingenuous. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“You’re not -,” Jeongguk sighs breath weighing through the air. “You’re not doing it wrong. I just think... We should go slow right? It’s your first time? Maybe don’t rush into it?”

“I watched a YouTube video and they said to do it like that,” you reply. Jeongguk can’t help but blink at you, brain reeling from attempting to understand your being.

“You watched a - never mind. You’re giving me a headache. And I thought you knew nothing. Porn would have been a better research alternative but to each their own.”

“I did it for preparation! I didn't know it’d be this nerve-wracking in real life. And, I told you, real dicks are gross. She used a dildo.”

“How is a dildo any different to a real dick?” Jeongguk fingers dig into the mattress a little harder when you lean it once more, gingerly resting your head against his knee.

“It’s just different. Less grotesque. And they come in various colours.”

He might just actually scream. “It’s literally made to replicate a penis.”

You sigh, your breath skipping against his skin. The room is suddenly tight, closing in on him and you’re not even really touching him. And then you catch your lip between your teeth, pressing down with a quick thoughtful bite. “I think you’re deflecting right now.”

“I’m not,” he splutters. “Why would I even be deflecting right now?”

“I mean, we’re having a conversation about dildos when your dick is hard and I’m meant to be blowing you. Sounds like deflection doesn’t it?” He hates the way your eyes glitter, bright and captivating as your gaze locks into his.

“Like I said,” Jeongguk retorts, “We should take it slow.”

“Okay then. I’m done talking about dildos unless you have anything else to add?”

“I don’t,” he murmurs, “Okay then, onto giving a blowjob.”

“Onto giving a blowjob,” you reiterate. And then, like a psychopath, you smile. “Where should I start?”

He hates that body is on edge right now, hands trembling even though he hides them by squeezing his bed-sheets tight. “Try giving it a lick first? You can put your hand around the base too - if you want to.”

“Here?” His knees nearly buckle when you wrap your warm palm around his length, grip firm around the base of his cock. But that’s nothing to the gentle lap of your tongue against the side of his cock, a quick little thing and nearly launches him off the bed.

“Oh - uh - yeah, there.” His voice sounds far off and without warning your mouth is against him once more, tongue a sinful little thing that slips along his length, wet and warm and so sneaky he’s unsure of what to respond with apart from an instinctual buck of his hips. It’s easy like this, your tongue pressed against his cock and your hands slowly dragging upwards, placing a perfect pressure along his length that leaves him sighing into the air of his bedroom. Your movements grow more direct, reading the increasing desperation in Jeongguk’s body as he moves closer and closer to you, waiting until you feel sure enough. And then, finally, your mouth sinks onto him.

He nearly whimpers. Nearly. There’s a heat pooling in his gut and ebbs through every muscle and nerve, the coil of his desire springing tighter with each inch that slips down your throat. You take him so well, Jeongguk can’t help but watch in awe, the wideness in your eyes making him harder than he’s ever been in his life. Even with your inexperience, the way you swallow his cock is obscene. It’s an imagery Jeongguk engraves in his memory, purposefully stored because he knows he’ll think about it whenever his desires override his logical thoughts again. You lap him up like you want this, a soft moan echoing from your throat and along his length as you move deeper, mouth plaint to his dick. He forces himself to sit still, give you the time to adjust, lick and taste to your leisure, forcing the impending wave of heat back down into his gut. He holds it there even when you move away, the sound of your wet mouth popping off his dick permeating the air.

And of course, you lick your lips afterwards, a swift swipe of your pink tongue against them, your eyes trained on his.

“Like that?” you ask.

Jeongguk’s going to die. He is. And you’ll be the reason why listed on his death certificate.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, chest tight with want. “Like that.”

You lean back in without question, mouth taking his length like you were made for it and your hand works against the parts of him you can’t reach just yet. His mind wanders as his eyes take in this sight of you, on your knees and mouth open wide just for him. Someday he’d like to see if you could truly take his length, all of it. Down your throat. Hard and fast like his hips wanted to go. But this is more than perfect. How you concentrate on blowing him like you want to see him spill himself down your throat. It’s almost adorable, the earnestness in your gaze every time your eyes flicker upwards as your mouth moves along his cock. He likes this more than he’s willing to admit, the slowness in your pace, how your tongue is shy sometimes when it laves against his tip. It’s a change from what he usually gets - and a welcome one too. A tiny part of him feels like it would be fitting to hold your hand. You’re so pretty too, especially when your lips are on him. He’d like to take care of you, see what your face looked like when his tongue was deep inside of you, know what your taste like as you moan out his name. He doesn’t even register the words as they leave his mouth, head lost in the images colouring his thoughts.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he can’t help the grunt, the pet name natural to him, “So pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

And you hum like you like it - like you like pleasing him, sinking further down until his tip bumps against the back of your throat. The zip down his spine nearly sends him spiralling.

“Baby,” he feels it then, when your eyes shift to meet his, the snap in his gut. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum. You need to stop right now if you don’t want to down your throat.”

But you don’t, moving faster like the twitch of his dick in your mouth spurs him on, your lips firm as they wrap around him. He doesn’t hold in his moves this time, hips gently moving up to meet your mouth, the tremor running through his bulky thighs nothing but a warning before it hits him hard. A wave of heat, melting through his muscles as his eyes flutter shut, your tongue lapping him right up, no protest as he unravels down your throat. It’s over in an instant but Jeongguk feels like mush, head floating and his bones soft with how hard his back hits the mattress. You pull off his length a second later, letting him feel you swallow all of him first.

“Holy shit.” His mouth is still disconnected from his brain.

There’s a beat of silence, so awkward that Jeongguk shuffles himself back onto his elbows even though his bones feel like giving way. And then your laugh tinkles through the air, a soft gentle thing that makes his heart seize in his chest.

“That… wasn’t so bad,” you say, staring at him with an ease that spikes an urge to press his lips against yours in his heart.

“Oh,” he replies, like an idiot. “You liked it?”

“Well, it didn’t suck… pun intended. Your moans are really loud.”

Jeongguk blushes - he blushes - even after the stupid joke you made.

“Um, yeah. I do, I guess. Sorry, I kind of forgot to show you what to do. But you’re a bit of a natural, to be honest.” He abhors the diffidence in his voice.

“I guessed that,” you retort, the smile on your face hypnotic, “From your really loud moaning.”

“Can you - fuck how do you ruin any intimate moment when it happens?”

“Guess I’m a natural at that too,” you say it with a laugh, and Jeongguk can’t help the smile that tugs against his lips.

“Um,” he tries, fully aware of the front view seat you were getting of his soft dick. He sits up to try and shield it, feeling awfully exposed. “If you’d like… I could return the favour?”

“No, I’m good.” There’s zero hesitation in your voice and you’re up before Jeongguk can think of a decent excuse to keep you in his room. “Maybe another time? I’ll text you. Bye Jeongguk.”

It’s then he regrets not encouraging you to undress earlier, his assumption that this would be the worst blowjob of his life incredibly incorrect. Perhaps if your clothes were scattered around his bedroom he could have found a way to convince you into his sheets while you searched for them. But you’re fully dressed, already bounding out of his door like his dick wasn’t down your throat moments ago. He watches you go with forlornness, mouth dry with words he’s incapable of expressing at this very instance and his heart oddly warm at the sight of your skipping away with a carefreeness he admires. He still hates that you’re leaving, perhaps the only positive of this situation is that you’re using his bedroom door instead of his window.

“Bye,” Jeongguk mumbles into the vacant air. You don’t even catch it, shooting him a quick grin before you’re bounding down the stairs as if this doesn’t even matter to you. A stumble on a stepping stone to something greater. He plucks up his phone, pants still lost somewhere on the floor. Blocking Mingyu for twenty-four hours should be enough of a punishment, right?

mingyu the man [10:21pm]

bro..

you alive?

jaykay [10:26pm]

i focking hate u

u know that right?

mingyu the man [10:31pm]

you dont my g

how was it?

did she jump out the window this time?

jaykay [10:34pm]

worse

mingyu the man [10:37pm]

bro wtf wot she do??

jaykay [10:40pm]

she actually gave me head

mingyu the man [10:45pm]

????

how is that worse dude you’re just as weird as her

jaykay [10:46pm]

ITS WORSE CAUSE I LIKED IT

mingyu the man [10:51pm]

damn....

you like crazy coochie don’t you

jaykay [10:52pm]

WHAT R U EVEN

MAN FUCK

I HATE U

mingyu the man [10:53pm]

lmao u don’t i brought her into your life u lurve me

im best man for the wedding

not jaehyun

u got dat right

jaykay [10:56pm]

i hope you fall into a ditch and die

mingyu the man [10:58pm]

okay big man

you gon see her again tho?

jaykay [10:59pm]

....maybe

idk man im fucked up right now

like???

SHE JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW??

mingyu the man [11:01pm]

and u still invited her over to suck your dick again

crazy coochie got u bad bruh

jaykay [11:06pm]

FUCK U

mingyu the man [11:11pm]

mhmm if thats what u say

i have a class wid her to tomorrow

any messages u want to pass on?

hello?

[mingyu the man is blocked]

hello? jaykayyyyyy

JAYKAY

SEAGULL

damn he got it bad

[justasparkwritings]

Troll In Luv: Part 2

Previous: Troll in Luv Pt. 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers; Non-Idol AU, Angst eventual Fluff

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Making Out, Kissing

Summary: Your hand is forced, and the only way to come out on top is to reckon with your ex and apologize for past transgressions... er tweets.  

Note: This fic is dedicated to, written for, the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it it’s totally trash... jk. mostly. 

This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange!

Banner by me.

Tag List (is this how you do it no ones ever asked before): @unicornbabylover​

Thursday: Jimin’s Apartment

           Jimin hadn’t just moved on up, he’s leveled up completely. Gone were the Ikea pieces that he’d spent hours assembling, only to realize they’d given him the wrong part and he’d had to trek back to the store to rectify it. Gone were the plastic plates and cups he’d collected from Penny Pitchers at the bar across campus. Gone were the free t-shirts and dance company sweats he’d torn or cut to make them more comfortable for practice.

          In their place, Jimin had picked out custom fabrics to cover his chairs, found small batch glass plates and bowls to line his open kitchen shelves. He’d sourced a Persian rug from a little hole in the wall shop that had been in the neighborhood for seventy years and had runners made from their remnants. He’d curated his space, and his wardrobe, to fit the Jimin he’d always been. Each piece made up for the times that he could only hold onto cheap knock offs, embarrassed when someone noticed a shirt he was wearing from a bag they’d donated to Goodwill.

          Stepping into his space, it was hard not to gawk. Every inch of this apartment screamed maturity, knocking you off your feet. Had you been missing out on this for years? This Jimin, adult Jimin, was far more impressive than you’d realized. It was hard not to feel your heart hurting, yearning for the years you had been together, the moments shared, the love that had blossomed in your youth.

          This was going to be more devastating than you realized.

          “Can I get you something to drink?” Jimin asked. He took your jacket and purse, hanging them on the steampunk inspired coat rack.

          “Um, water would be good, thanks,” You said, moving through the entry way to the kitchen. “How long have you lived here?”

          “Uh, two years? But I just finished decorating maybe a month ago,”

          “It’s incredible,”

          “Thanks, how’s the magazine?”

          “A fucking shit show,” You took the glass from his hands, careful not to let his fingers brush against yours.

          “Hoseok mentioned that things have been getting more, challenging?”

          “Yeah, that’s the nice way of putting it.”

          “Hm,” Jimin hummed, sipping his own water.

          “How’s your job? I don’t, I know Hoseok and Tae and Jungkook have told me about what you do, but, what do you do?” You phrased your question carefully, knowing precisely what he has been up to. You’ve seen his campaigns, his work on water bottles and stickers around the city, not to mention his designs being picked up by Target and thrown onto pillows, blankets and beach towels. He’d won an award last year for his artwork that had been picked up and used as the home screen on the most recent Mac Book, Mac Book Pro and Mac Book Air. He was being considered as a new graphic artist for Penguin Publishing, working on new book jackets as well as negotiating a seven-figure deal with Target, only to be outbid by Costco.

          Jimin was everywhere, but he absolutely didn’t need to know that you knew that. He didn’t need to know how angry you were that neither of you actually ‘won’ your breakup.

          “Well, I graduated with a degree in graphic design and a minor in dance. After I discovered I didn’t want to dance professionally, I got a job in graphics. I kept working on projects and three years ago started my own company. My work has been in a lot of different places, which, I’m sure you’ve seen,” Jimin sipped his water, pouted lips glistening as the liquid graced over them.

          “Awfully cocky,” You smirked, long lasting Charlotte Tilbury, Glastonberry purple lipstick marking the glass.  

          “Or I know you well enough to know that you’ve been keeping tabs on me,” Jimin had no need to be cocky, he knew he was right. All he had to do was be confident.

          “That’s an awfully big assumption for you to make. But it’s cool, it explains why your apartment is Architectural Digest ready. Unless, you have a girlfriend with excellent taste who designed it all,” You were baiting him, and in the internal monologue that never shut the fuck up, you were beating yourself up over the fact that Erin had been correct.

          Jimin rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just ask if I’m seeing someone?”

          “Now why would I be that direct?” You questioned.

           “You’ve been sitting behind a computer screen, trolling me for years instead of just talking to me. I should’ve expected you to find some roundabout way to ask if I’m single,” Jimin set his glass on the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest, defiance brooding in his dark eyes.

           “Look, I know it’s fucked up, that I’m fucked up. It is the sole purpose of me going to therapy,” You explained.

           “I would hope so,” Jimin scoffed. He’d never been indifferent to you, but you supposed you couldn’t expect anything less than anger after years of unwarranted harassment. Mentally, you kicked yourself over the fact that Claire had been right.

           “Jimin,” You sighed.

           “What?” He snapped.

           “I’m sorry,” You stared into his softening eyes, the ones you’d spent years trying to replace, burning the memories into your retinas once again.

           “Sorry for what?”

           “For everything,”

           “Care to be more specific?” He moved towards you, gliding from the far side of the kitchen to stand opposite you, elbows leaning against the cool granite of the countertop he custom ordered.

           “I have loved you since we were fifteen, okay? When you left, when I left,” You sighed, there was never going to be a poetic or graceful way to lay out your tumultuous feelings, but you owed it to yourself to try. “I never told you how much I loved you, or how much it hurt when you just, you moved on so quickly, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want to break up, I didn’t want to fall into another cliché of high school sweethearts preemptively breaking each other into pieces because of college. I wanted us to be the cliché that lasted, that worked. But you just, I’ve been hurting for years and I didn’t think you’d care, because you didn’t back then, so why would you now?”

           “So, you harassed me on the internet?” Jimin asked.

           You rolled your eyes. “It didn’t start out that way,”

           “How did it start?”

           “Someone sent me a link to your profile, and I just, retweeted with a stupid comment and you responded. In my gut, I thought, I felt, that you knew it was me. Why else would you engage with it? You didn’t engage with anyone else,” Your rehearsed explanation made perfect sense, you’d spent years crafting it, tweaking the language, ensuring there were no loopholes.

           “You checked?” Jimin’s smirk was back. Fuck him, it looked good against his angelic eyes.

           “I’m a journalist, Jimin,”

           “Still, you checked,”

           “The point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been needling you for years. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you how much I loved you, I’m sorry I’ve been a massive bitch, rivaling only Heather Chandler. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, and I’m sorry Claire wrapped you up in this stupid article that I am no longer participating in. I’m sorry that even after I changed my fucking Twitter handle and you knew it was me, that I kept being a mythic bitch. I’m sorry for being the villain in your life.”

           “I’m sorry too,” Jimin rushed to say.

           “What do you have to be sorry for?”

           “I was a coward back then, too scared by what Yoongi and Namjoon said about dating in college. I should’ve, I should’ve fought for us more than I did.” He admitted.

          It hadn’t taken him long to realize the colossal mistake he had made, but by then Yoongi and Joon had planted the seeds in his mind that no one in their right mind makes it with their high school sweetheart. What a naïve notion, to stay with the same person you’ve loved since puberty.

           “Remember when you came back for my dad’s wedding?” You asked.

           “I regret that,” Jimin told you.

           “I cried for two days,”

           “I’m sorry,” He couldn’t look at you, his years of unsaid apologies waiting behind his pouting lips.

           “It was such a dick move.”

           Jimin smiled softly, he had missed the way you over exaggerated your speech, adding emphasis to superlatives, the slight way your eyes rolled when you were trying to make a point. A habit you’d developed in high school, he was glad to see you hadn’t replaced it with a new inane ritual. He still very much liked this one, found it endearing even after years of missing out on it.

           “I know,” He conceded.

           “I can only assume it was on purpose.”

           “It, yeah, yeah, Hoseok said you were getting cozy with Seokjin,” He explained.

           “I was,” You nodded.

           “Was?”

           “He broke my heart, sometime after you showed up to New Years with what’s her name on your arm and proceeded to make the after-hours dance party in Dirty Dancing look like the Russian Ballet. Oh, and can’t forget you nearly fucking her in the kitchen as the ball dropped, which Yoongi made a very dirty joke about it.”

          You hadn’t kept a list of all his transgressions… but you had kept a list of all his transgressions, all his missteps, all his calculated moves, only to plan your own counterstrike. Erin had been right, you had started the Twitter battle, but Jimin had poisoned the blood between you long before you tweeted about it.

           “I was drunk,” He excused.

           “You did it on purpose,” You rolled your eyes, Jimin had forgotten how cute that was too.

           “I did,” He conceded.

           “I wasn’t fucking Seokjin on the dance floor for everyone to see,” You tossed back the rest of your water, eyes glancing at the living room where a framed photo remained. Prom, you in his arms, Hoseok beside you, Namjoon eyeing Caitlin Anderson, his date that you had made a point to not allow in the photo. She wasn’t sticking around, why ruin your group pic? (Namjoon still was pissed about this, though he hadn’t spoken to her since he left for college.) You were all too preoccupied with rules to drink, do drugs or smoke, so while your classmates were getting wrecked, you went bowling until 2AM. Jimin had climbed into your bedroom, after supposedly dropping you off, and you’d promised each other the world.

          It didn’t last through summer.

           Jimin sighed, a hand running through his bleached locks, tugging gently at the ends. “You weren’t.”

           “You didn’t have anything to prove, Jimin. I had already gotten the message. Too fucking loud and too fucking clear.” Your voice became small, the heart of your hurt, the source of your pain, bubbling up to the surface.

           “What was that message?” Jimin noted the change in your dynamic, your hand moving to play with the earring in your top hole, twirling it thoughtlessly as your eyes drug themselves from your prom photo back to him.

           “That you didn’t want me,” You whispered.

           Jimin let it sit in the air, the real reason you had harassed him, the real reason you were sitting in his kitchen, tears forming, lip trembling. This entire time, you had thought he didn’t want you anymore, didn’t love you, didn’t think you were his sun and moon.

           “Is that why Seokjin broke up with you?” He asked.

           “That he didn’t want me?” You questioned. He was toeing the line, danger signs would’ve been flashing, horns and sirens wailing telling Jimin to back the fuck off.

           “No, that you still wanted me,” He clarified.

           “Yeah, something like that,” You mumbled.

           “I wanted you too,” Jimin admitted.

           “Bullshit,”

           “You think I would bring around random girls if I didn’t think you would be there? That I would parade around, embarrassing myself, just to show off whoever was on my arm? Do you really think that little of me?” Jimin demanded, his anger that he’d long thought he’d worked through coming back to the surface. He was no longer calm, no longer sympathetic to your puppy dog eyes.

           “Jimin, I don’t know what to think of you! You broke my heart because of something Yoongi said, Yoongi, who doesn’t date let alone love anyone other than Jungkook, and then proceeded to what, listen to Namjoon?” Standing from your seat, you pushed the stool back under the immaculate white countertop. “What the fuck did they know about our relationship that I didn’t? Why were they making decisions about us, us, you and me, Jimin? Why did they have power and I had none?”

           “I was, I was scared,” He admitted, his voice meek against your thunderous admissions.

           “Bullshit! I was scared, you were cavalier.”

           “You don’t meet your person when you’re fifteen!” He yelled, anger coming to a head.

           “Are you fucking kidding me?” You’re yelling back, returning decibel for decibel. Stool pushed back, hand through your hair, blazer coming off to reveal the cheetah print blouse underneath. It was too hot in his apartment, too hot to have this conversation sober, too hot to be staring at him, the man who knew everything, everything, about you. It was too much for him to be confessing that he was a pussy.

           “No, I’m not,”

           “Park Jimin, you fucking asshole.”

           “I’m so-

           “No, no you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me, trying to pawn off your emotions as fodder in some naïve fallacy that says you can’t grow and mature with the person you love at fifteen. You are absolutely fucking unbelievable Jimin.” Untucking your shirt, you moved towards the living room and the open window.

           “I’m so-

           “Shut up! You don’t get it, do you?” You asked, the tears stinging your eyes begging to be released.

           “Get what?” He muttered. You hear him plop down on the couch, and you know he’s slumped back, legs resting against the reclaimed wood coffee table, hands tucked behind his head, watching you.

           “You, Jimin! Do you understand who you are?” You turned, the cool air soothing against your shoulders.

           “I thought I did but apparently not, so enlighten me,” He requested.

           “You love harder than anyone I’ve ever met. You crave love, you seek it out from your friends and family and yes, your girlfriends. You remember every detail, every expression, every glance carries weight in your eyes. You love the hardest, you hurt the deepest, and when you said you didn’t think we’d make it, what else was I supposed to do other than believe you?”

           “I was an idiot! I was a child!” Jimin ran an unsteady hand through his locks, again, his nervous habit coming out in full force. “I was 18 and all I wanted was to elope, but I couldn’t because I had to make a name for myself. My parents demanded it from me, what was I to do, get lost in you? I was already drowning Y/N! All I breathed was you and fuck me if I wasn’t ready to commit to you but I knew you didn’t want to be the Topanga to my Cory so what could I do?”

           “There are a lot of things you could’ve done! You could’ve said something to me. You could’ve been amicable. You could’ve shared your fears and your hopes with me, Jimin. You didn’t have to parade around with girlfriend after girlfriend and tell me you didn’t want us anymore!”

           “I thought you were falling in love with someone else!” Jimin said.

           “Why does it matter what I was doing? Whenever you saw me, did you see me flaunting my new relationship in your face? Why did you, why would you think that I was ever over you?”

           “You were with Seokjin for two years,” Jimin answered, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

           “Oh, so I have a stable relationship and you assume it’s okay to be a dick?” You quipped. Sitting on the couch, your body relishes in the ease with which you let off a little tension.

           “No, you had someone else,” Jimin turned, arm propped on the back of the couch, body facing yours.

           “Doesn’t mean you had the right to treat me the way you did,” You hadn’t been this close to him in years, his breath mingling with yours. You could see the crinkles near his eyes, from moments when his laughter was the only thing on his mind.

           “I wanted to marry you,” Jimin reached his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers, still a perfect fit.

           “But you didn’t,” You remind him.

           “I haven’t,” Jimin’s eyes were set your hand, your ring finger naked, heated gaze willing a diamond to be made out of the hair around you.

           “Jimin,”

           “We’ve been here for hours, we’ve rehashed the past, but not once have you said why you kept trolling me,” He turned his eyes back to yours, pleading softly for you to tell him that what he thinks you mean is truth, not willful thinking.

           “Because, Jimin. You’re so fucking dense sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, how did he not get it?

           “Because isn’t an-

           “I love you! You fucking asshole. I love you. I keep tabs on you because I’m still harboring some insanely poetic, pathetic, sociopathic love for you, Jimin. My first love, my only love. I know I’ve been a massive twat, I know it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining the last five or so years of your life, I’m sorry for tweeting at you and about you. I’m sorry that I never said anything to you during college. I’m sorry I asked your mom not to tell you that we still talk. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go. I’m sorry that I still love you.”

          The tears fell freely, cascading down your cheeks and neck, path only interfered when Jimin brought your face into his hands, thumbs moving meticulously to wipe the falling droplets. He’d always loved cupping your cheeks, holding your face delicately between his hands. He loved the intimacy, the care, the inability to hide anything from each other.

           “Marry me,” Jimin said, voice clear over your sobs.

           “What?”

           “Let’s go to city hall, get a license, let’s just, get married. Now, right now,”

           “Jimin, we’ve hardly-

           “I know my mom talks to you, she told me. She’s always told me. I still, I still talk to your dad, too. He texts me like once a week,” Jimin confessed.

           “You do?” You couldn’t believe it, your parents knew too?

           “I’ve always loved you, always. I knew-

           “You asshole! You fucking suck! Why did you make me pour out my heart like this only to tell me you fucking knew? Was this a ruse? Oh my god, are you The Duke? Am I Daphne? Quick, make haste to the gallery wall in your hallway so we can stare at the photos of your years without me and pretend that our hands touching isn’t the sexiest thing to happen since Regé Jean Page boxed shirtless,” You rambled in between wiping your dripping nose against your blouse sleeve. Words spilled from you, tumbled out from your lips at a speed you hadn’t reached in years. Jimin always knew how to get you so worked up air seemed like a luxury.  

           Jimin stood to retrieve a tissue box from the bathroom.

           “This wasn’t a ruse; I didn’t know you’d come over to talk about our relationship, our past. I was going to reach out I just, I thought you hated me.”

           He sat back down, this time closer, knee bumping against yours, leaning in to speak in docile tones.

           “When have I ever hated you?” You questioned.

           “I can think of at least one hundred occasions where you’ve said that you have,”

           “Such an-

           “And you keep calling me names,” Jimin rolled his eyes. You’ve always loved how he rolled his eyes, subtle and gentle, but deadly and effective.

           “I love you means you don’t have to say you’re sorry, so I won’t say it again,” You countered. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips.

           “But I’ll say it, because while you’ve been angrily tweeting me, a poor attempt at showing your feelings,” Jimin braced for the contact of your hand against his shoulder, a gentle hit, accompanied by your own eyeroll and scoff. “Listen, I too have been an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I do accept your apologies, and I do forgive you. I love you, always have,” Jimin had taken both your hands in his, and gently, he placed kisses on each of your knuckles.

           “Jimin,” You murmured.

           “What Y/N?”

           “I accept your apologies. I love you, so much, and I’m sorry I wasted the last few years instead of just saying that I wanted us to try again.” You turned your hands over, mimicking his gesture by placing lingering kisses across the back of his hand.

           “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us during college. I’m sorry I brought girlfriends to family events, I’m sorry my actions made you think I stopped loving you.”

           “You didn’t, right?” You peered up at him, lips leaving the palm of his left hand.

           “Never,” Jimin held your gaze, watching as you sat up.  

           “Even when you were dating skanky girl number three, with the nose ring and the summer house in Montauk? That you brought home for spring break and asked if you could bring to Namjoon’s parent’s anniversary?” You questioned.

           “You really want to rehash everything, don’t you?” Jimin chuckled, your ridiculousness knew no bounds.

           “I mean, we don’t have to right now we-

           “Can I kiss you?” Jimin leaned forward, cherry lips finding purchase on the delicate flesh on the inside of your wrists, a sensation that specialized in making your toes curl.

           “You think that’s wise?” Your voice, a breathy groan embarrassingly needy, seemed to belong to someone other than you. Someone who needed Jimin to toss them over his shoulder and fuck into his $2,000 sheets.

           Jimin laughed, “You were my first kiss, my first time, my first everything. You think now, as adults, kissing is going to ruin us getting back together?”

           “I just mean that, do we need to let this simmer before we, you know,” You bobbled your head, hair moving around to match the giddiness bubbling inside of you.

           “We don’t have to have sex,”

           “Yeah,” You sighed, “but don’t you like, really want to?”

           “And you call yourself a journalist!”

          “Shut up!”

          “You’re being ridiculous! Of course, I want to,” Jimin’s docile laugh sent a shiver down your spine.

          “I am being cautious, I need to know that you, that you want this,” You reiterated.

          It hurt to have to ask Jimin to give you something he already had, to give you his love again, to give you his trust. But it wasn’t you who ended this relationship, it wasn’t you who thought your relationship wouldn’t last through college. You knew you could work through it all; it was Jimin that walked away shattering your heart and your trust. It was Jimin who was scared of being with you, Jimin who needed to prove he was going to make this work. Jimin who had lost it all and needed to fight for you again.

          “You’re asking me if I want to have sex with the love of my life, after years of not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to love her the way she’s earned?” Jimin asked.

           “Yes,”

           “To borrow a phrase from you, fuck you for thinking either one of us has any self-control. Especially when it comes to each other. How many tweets have we exchanged? How many times have you asked Hoseok about me, or my mother?” Jimin cupped your cheeks again, eyes darting from you slightly parted, purple stained lips to your eyes. “I’m in this, for good, and I will tell you every day until you believe me again.”

           “Me too, though you should know I’ve picked up a few new habits I’m sure Taehyung has told you about,” You leaned into his touch, cheek warming at the light callouses that remained from his overeager workouts, and mic twirls he mastered in too many nights singing karaoke with Jungkook.

           “Yeah?”

           “Yeah, I’ve started wrapping my hair. And I’m also still allergic to kiwi,” You reminded him.

           “Good, who needs a slimy green fruit with too many seeds?”

           “Truly no one, except Australians,” You laughed and your pun.  

           “Remember that day before senior year, when we got smoothies, but they didn’t tell you that they’d put kiwi in it, and you had to go the emergency room?” Jimin’s hands have dropped from your face, instead clapping together, head tossing back as his laughter overtook his body.

           “Or the time after watching Friends, Joon decided he wanted to make a kiwi-lime pie despite the fact we told him not to put kiwi, and he did anyway?” You laughed with him, head leaning against the arm that he had extended across the back of the couch.

           “You wanted to kill him,” Jimin agreed.

           “He forgot he had put it in! Then forced me to try it! I still hear his voice, ‘Y/N, please just a bite. Please, I worked really hard on it, come on, just a taste, please’. I swear to you, Sara Bareilles heard him and saved it for the Waitressmusical,” You laughed.

          “I don’t remember who was more pissed, your mom or you,” Jimin added.

          “He offered to pay for my hospital visit,”

          “He paid it all off, didn’t he?”

          “Before the month had ended, he didn’t even work out a payment plan, and bought me a new EpiPen,” You couldn’t stop laughing. Namjoon, the ever-lovable oaf, had never stopped apologizing for badgering you into eating his fucking pie. You couldn’t even tell if it was good, the minute the kiwi hit your tongue, your body reacted.

          “He’s always been, responsible,” Jimin was calming down, high pitched squeaks on longer radiating off his vocal cords.

          “To a fault,” You sighed. “My mom gave it all back to him, she saved it for the day he graduated college and got into med school.”

          “Was he shocked?”

          “Pleasantly so,”

          Jimin hummed in agreement, his arm moving to drape across your shoulders, your body relaxing back into him. Your head found its way to his shoulder, and slowly you breathed in his scent. He’d changed colognes since the last time you’d been this close, this vulnerable with him. You liked it, fresh and crisp, with undertones of sandalwood and something that smelled like Kimchi, though you knew Jimin enough to know he’d probably eaten some for lunch. You liked it, his warmth pulling you to him, the safety of his embrace reminding you of all the days and nights you’d spent just like this.

           “Jimin?”

           “Yes?”

           “Did you, after we broke up did you ever, fall in love again?” You craned your neck to try and catch his expression.

           “No, I got close, but I never did. Did you fall in love with Seokjin?”

           “It’s complicated. I loved him, I did, but I wasn’t in love with him,” You moved ever so slowly out of his grasp, trying to gage his expression.

           “Did you think you’d get married?” Jimin leaned closer. His movement, calculated and timid, hatched the cocoons in your stomach into full butterflies, beating wings against your insides.

           “No, well,” You tilted your head, a habit from Hoseok, and licked your bottom lip. You should’ve remembered to put Aquaphor on your lips before leaving the cab. “One time I thought maybe we might work out, maybe we’d find a way through, well, you. But he never, he always kind of knew that my heart was still tied up with yours.”

           Jimin watched as you wet your bottom lip, tongue gracefully moving to swipe across your flesh, hoping to take the place of your tongue with his own.

           “Did he, did he bring me up when he-

           “Dumped me?”

           “Yeah,”

           “Kind of,” You blinked quickly, eyes trying to discern if Jimin was in fact moving closer, or if your vision was playing tricks on you and trying to zoom in on him while he moved way.

           “I’m sorry that I, that I was used against you. I’m -

          “Jimin, as much as I would love to iron out the details of Seokjin dumping me, and I’m sure negotiating the terms of us getting back together, and naturally filling each other in on the last few years we’ve been apart…” You licked your lips again, “Your lips keep getting farther away from mine and I really, really need to kiss you.”

          Jimin didn’t need to be told twice, and lunged forward, pinning you beneath him, hips pressing into yours, pressure of his body against you, holding you to him.

           “I missed you,” Jimin said before closing the space between you, plump, soft and supple lips pressing aggressively against yours. You knew he’d be stained purple, the thought of him walking into whatever We-Work adjacent workspace his office was in, with purple tinted lips and bruised flesh, thrilled you.

           Jimin had always been your favorite person to kiss. Tasting like nostalgia and 7/11 Slurpee’s that you’d split on summer days, half blue raspberry, half cherry, two large straws and a sugar hangover that almost always led to naps on the hammock in your mom’s backyard. Kissing adult Jimin, experienced Jimin, Jimin who had slept with other people besides you, was intoxicating. Skilled in the way he used his tongue against yours, nibbling your bottom lip before diving in, he’d learned a few new tricks that had you moaning underneath him.

           “You know,” You started, his lips gnawing at the flesh of your neck, hot kisses and love bites decorating you a shade of purple you wished Charlotte Tilbury sold. “I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”

           Jimin laughed, “Oh so now you’re going to be direct?”

           “When have I ever been subtle?”

           “Clearly not in your Tw-

           “Jimin,” You interrupted, index finger silencing his lips. “Just, take me to your bed and make love to me. I promise, I swear, I won’t troll you on the internet ever again, okay?”

           “Okay,” Jimin couldn’t stop smiling as he stood, adjusted the waistband of his flat front chinos, and reached for your hand. “Come on, we’ve got five and a half years and a shit ton of tweets to make up for.”

           Rolling your eyes, you stood, hand in his and followed him down the hallway, past the gallery wall and into his bedroom, where you clocked another photo from high school, this time just you and Jimin, his parents and brother, smiling at high school graduation. You turned to him, ready to comment but cut off by his lips again, hands pulling you towards him, arms wrapping you in his embrace.

           As you drowned in Jimin, in the way his bare skin felt against yours, how his hands moved, tender and lovingly on your skin, relearning routes and maps he’d written many moons ago, it was easy to remember why you’d fallen love with him, and even easier to remember why you’d never gotten the love you shared. Jimin was attentive, passionate, loving, giving… he took his time with you, waited for you to be ready, brought out the best in you in every situation. With his voice in your ear, his sounds overriding the previous iteration you’d had on lock from your teen years, his hips grinding into yours, reclaiming what he had once lost, Jimin rewrote the future you hadn’t been able to imagine since he broke your heart.

          In his ministrations on your body, his love personified in how he made your toes curl, your mind blank, your body his, Jimin vowed to love you, to stand by you, to hate who you hate and love who you love. To feed your every obsession and call you on your bullshit. He promised to protect you, to ensure you never eat kiwi, and to tell you he loves you at least three times every day, beyond earning your trust, beyond you believing him, beyond putting a ring on your finger and giving you his last name (if you wanted to take it). He vowed to never leave, not when it gets tough, not when he is scared, not when you spew that you hate him, which you inevitably will. In return, you promised to give him the world, which he admittedly had whenever you were with him.

           Love was complicated and messy… and it pissed you off to no end to know that all it took was a few years of dragging Jimin on Twitter to get the love of your life back.

[bitch-im-your-biggest-nightmare]

Parents fucking suck bro. [Corpse Husband & Reader]

Warnings: Arguments, bad parents, swearing, crying Summary: Y/N loves playing with Among Us with the others, even if she's the youngest among them. While shes playing with them, her parents walk in and are not happy with the fact she’s playing with them. There's a big argument and shit goes down but Corpse is there to comfort Y/N. Tag list:  @save-the-sky @alilshit @whatifwedo @hughugh20 @fleurmoon @bi-andready-tocry @itsminniekat @yoongi-holland @loraleiix @hacker-ghost @fanworrior @marvelous-musicals @annshit @unknown-and-invisible @letsloveimagines @hairbrush-anon @babyhoneystvles 

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

“Hey guys” Y/N greeted happily as they entered the lobby in Among Us. They have been playing Among Us with Felix, Sean, Rae, Toast, Sykkuno, Charlie, and Corpse for a while now. Y/N was 18 and still living at home, making money off of YouTube. They’re parents were strict and wanted them to have a “real job” like being a doctor. Y/N knew their parents were toxic and would disapprove of their job choice, so they keep it a secret.  

“hey Y/N” 

“Hello” 

“hii” 

“Whats up Y/N” 

Everyone began to greet them, which made them smile. Y/N was filming the gameplay of this for a new video on their channel. Everyone seemed to love when they played Among Us, so they always played it- doing commentary and music on the side. “How you guys doing on this..” they looked out the window of their darkened bedroom, seeing heavy rain pouring down from the dark clouds in the sky. “Pretty damn depressing day where i'm at, holy shit.”

There was a couple of laughs and chuckles, and everyone began to state what the weather was like where they were. There was a lot of “Its nice out where am”s. It rains a fuck ton where Y/N lives, especially during spring. But they loved it, rain was their favorite. 

“Alrriiight is everyone here?” Toast asked.

“Nope, Corpse is joining.” Sean announced, which caused sounds of happiness. Corpse was everyone's favorite, it was that damn voice. Corpse was Y/Ns bestie, they always had each other backs. There was many people who shipped them, but they both only wanted to be friends. 

A few seconds after Sean spoke, Corpse joined. “Hey guys.” Corpse said, he sounded tired. But that was common for him, he told you about his insomnia. He probably didn’t get any sleep last night.

“Alright lets start the game.” Sean said, clicking to begin the game. Y/N smiled at the big letters reading “IMPOSTER” at the top of their screen. They’re a really good imposter- as they were told. They first went to blend in with crewmates, going to walk around a bit. While roaming around, they went into electrical to fake a task. Y/N saw this as the perfect chance to get their first kill in. So, they snuck up and killed him, then they vented to escape. 

After a minute, a dead body was reported and they were now at an emergency meeting. 

“Where was the body?” Toast asked. 

“I found the body iiin.. electrical.” Rae replied, “Who was in there last?”

“I did see Y/N walking towards electrical.” Felix said, “That is where the body was found.” 

“Yeah, but did go into electrical?” Y/N said, “I was heading to reactor, I had a task there.” 

“Not the best alibi.” Sean said, “But I’ll take it.” 

“Could be Rea, but.. wait no.” Sykkuno said. 

“How could it be me if I reported the body?” Rae chuckled. 

“Yeah I know I just realized.” Sykkuno replied. 

“So... skip vote?” Corpse said. 

“I’m still sus on Y/N.” Felix said while voting for Y/N. 

“Vote Aoc shes kinda sus.” Y/N said, voting for Rae.

“Wha- Y/N!” Rae said. 

“Sus.” Y/N said plainly. 

“Ok yeah i'm skipping this vote.” Toast said, skipping the vote. 

Most people skipped the vote, so no one was out. Y/N continued to play the game how she would, until she killed someone and had to quickly vent because someone just walked by. That made them shriek, “oh sugar honey ICED tEA-” they laughed, “That was a close one, hah.” Well seemed they were being too loud because their mother walked in. 

“Why are you being so loud?” She asked, just as an emergency meeting started. 

“Oh shit- my moms here hold on.” Y/N said, going to mute but misclicking, so now they were all going to hear this. “I’m just playing Among Us.” 

“Shouldn’t you be looking for a job instead of playing stupid video games?” Mom said, stepping into the room. 

“Oh- uhm... I do YouTube as a job. I make money of it.” Y/N replied quietly, knowing what was to come next.

‘whAT?! YouTube is not a fucking job Y/N!! Me and your father told you many many times that we want you to be a doctor!” Mom yelled. Y/Ns sister got into a great college because of her smarts and intelligence, shes going to be a surgeon one day. But that just wasn’t Y/N, they wanted to make content for the people on the internet. And so far, it was working pretty damn well.

Y/N sighed, “Oh my god mom shut up! I hate all that doctor college bullshit. Im making enough money on here!”

“Are you delusional?! Why can’t you be more like your sister, shes so successful!” Mom yelled, she was in disbelief. She wanted to have the perfect children, but she only got one. 

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS COMPARE ME TO HER?!?” Y/N screamed, beginning to cry. “What does it fucking matter?!” 

“You are such a fucking disappointment. Get off that damn game!” Mom said, running over to pull Y/N away. But Y/N pushed her back. 

“Bro FUCK off! its my goddamn business, Im a fucking adult now, leave my shit alone!” Y/N screamed through the tears. 

“I am your mother! I know best! Now get off that fuckin- OW!” Y/N slapped their mother straight across the face, pushing her out of their room and closing the door, locking it. They sat back down and looked at her screen. 

“Oh fuck. You heard all of that.” Y/n choked a little, “Shit.”

This is where Corpse came in, breaking the silence and shock between everyone. They listened to the whole thing, messaging each other in the chat what to do. “Hey, your moms an asshat.” 

Y/N flinched, hearing banging on her door and screaming. “And a fucking psychopath!” they sunk down a bit, putting their hands on their forehead and breathing heavily. “Shes gonna kill me!” 

“Hey hey hey, its alright Y/N. Don’t let her get to you, she doesn’t know what shes saying.” Rae said. 

“I personally think you have great content.” Toast said, “I don’t think i would trust you as a doctor.” 

“hey don’t listen to her Y/N, we’re always here for you.” Corpse said, “DM me and we can talk about it more, ok?” 

Y/N sniffled, “Ok.” Then they muted, taking their phone out to DM Corpse. 

T/N: Hey 

Corpse_Husband: Hey are you doing alright?

T/N: No

T/N: Do you think im a disappointment? Is YouTube really worth it?

Corpse_Husband: Disappointment? no. The only disappointment is that sad excuse of a mother you have. And YouTube? hell yeah its worth it. I started youtube off when I was younger and had a blast. If you’re having fun and making bank keep doing it! You’re 18, your mother doesn’t control you anymore. 

Corpse_Husband: Pewdiepie is a subscriber to your channel

Corpse_Husband: That should be enough motivation

T/N: you have weird ways of making me happy :’) 

Corpse_Husband: I do have facts. 

Corpse_Husband: But seriously, please dont have a panic attack, those suck. But do you wanna play more Among Us? It might cheer you up :D 

T/N: Yeah yeah yeah thanks. And sure, I’ll play more among us. Thanks Corpse, your the best best friend 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🌹🌹🥀

Corpse_Husband: 🥺

~The End~ 

Oh my god this ones terrible. I might rewrite it in the future. 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Adoption Day

Summary: In the days leading up to the reader’s adoption, she starts acting out over fears of her new family not truly loving her. In the meantime, her family does their best to ease those worries and instead celebrate the reader officially joining the family...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 8,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: The reader is 17 years old during this part. This part takes place in the week leading up to the reader’s adoption. Enjoy! 

________

“What about this one?” asked Danneel from a few feet away. You rolled your eyes and you heard her huff. “I saw that young lady.”

“No you didn’t.”

“There’s a mirror,” she said, putting the dress back.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. You wandered around and took a seat on the bench, watching her walk around the store more, off in search of the perfect dress. You stared at the floor and licked your thumb, wiping a smudge off your sneakers when a pair of brown boots stepped into view.

“How’s dress shopping going?” asked Jensen. You looked up and he had two plain dress shirts, one black and one gray, tucked in his arm along with a brown and orange flannel. You shrugged and he sat down beside you. “Y/N. You’ve been grumpy all day.”

“I don’t want to wear a dress and I certainly don’t want to spend an obnoxious amount of money on it,” you said.

“Y/N. This is going to be a once in a lifetime day. It’s okay to splurge,” he said. 

“You people have no idea how little people in the real world have. You spend hundreds on a dress I wear once and that costs more than people get for food for a month.”

“Do we flaunt what we have? Do we give you kids everything you ask for? Do the little guys get every toy they want when we go to the store? No. You want to sit down and take a look at our monthly budget? I can show you how much we could do those things but we don’t,” he said.

“What about this?” asked Danneel, walking over with a pretty light blue dress. You narrowed your eyes and you saw her frown.

“Go wait in the car. We’re going home,” he said to you. 

“Jackass,” you mumbled as you stood up.

“You want to go for your first grounding? Keep it up,” he said.

“Why is it my fault that I don’t want a stupid dress?” you said. You stormed outside and waited by the car, leaning against the hot black vehicle for about five minutes before they came out with a pair of bags each. You climbed in your usual spot in the back, crossing your arms and staring out the window.

“Phone,” he said before he started the car. “Y/N, phone. Now.”

“Why?”

“You were rude to De. You can have it back tomorrow.”

You stared at him. You’d been rude before. Hell, you’d done a lot worse. You were nearly eighteen. You’d seen them both be rude. It wasn’t like they were perfect and you’d already told them at breakfast you didn’t want to go dress shopping that day.

“Y/N,” he said, clenching his jaw. You held out your phone and he snatched it, shoving it in his jacket pocket. “No TV or internet either and you owe De an apology.”

“Sorry,” you said quietly.

“That’s not an apology,” he said. 

“I’m sorry for being in a bad mood when I had to do something I told you in the first place I didn’t-”

“Be quiet,” he said. You snapped your jaw shut and turned to look out the window again. He drove home in silence and the second you were parked in the driveway, you got out and headed for the back patio. You sat up on the railing and tucked your feet up, pulling your hood up when a gust of cool wind hit you.

Ten minutes later you heard footsteps on the decking and sighed.

“It’s lunchtime,” he said.

“I’m not hungry.”

“What is with the attitude today?”

“You’re mad at me because I’m not hungry?” you asked, turning your head with a glare. You saw his chest heave but he kept his face blank.

“Make yourself something to eat when you are then,” he said before he left you alone.

“Y/N!” you heard shouted, your eyes peeling open. You sat up and the sky was dark. You must have fallen asleep down on the dock. “Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes and got to your feet, walking out from the small covered dock and over to the base of the stairs.

“What?” you called up, his head shooting down. He dropped it and shut his eyes, breathing for a moment. “I’m still not hungry.”

“What are you doing down there?”

“Sitting. What’s wrong with that?” you asked.

“Nothing is…” he trailed off. “It is nearly six. You’ve had enough outside time today.”

“So now I can’t go outside either?”

“Did I say that? No. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to the dock, dangling your feet over the edge. Heavy footsteps came down the stone steps and you gritted your teeth.

“Hey,” you heard as the board creaked behind you. “It’s getting cold out and you have on a hoodie and leggings. I don’t care if I drag you up there. You’re going inside.”

“Then drag me,” you said, glaring over your shoulder. 

“What is your problem? I’m not a fan of dress clothes either. Most people aren’t. The second we get home, you can take it off. We’ll leave the tag on the dress and return it. What is the big issue I’m not seeing.”

“Just leave me alone, Jensen.”

“Kid, you haven’t been alone since the second you stepped in that house last year. Sit out here and believe what you want but you’re not.”

“Okay. How about we try leave me the fuck alone?” you said. You stared out at the dark water and sky, clenching your fists by your sides.

“Do you not want us to adopt you anymore?” he asked after a beat. “If you don’t want us, that’s okay but please just tell us instead of this.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” you said. “Adopt me.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Or what you think we want?”

You were quiet and he took a seat next to you, resting his hands in his lap. 

“Y/N, have you been trying to push my buttons on purpose today?”

You didn’t move aside from to turn your head to the left away from him.

“Tall munchkin, look at me.”

You forced yourself to look in his direction. There was that understanding look on his face. He was always understanding. You narrowed your eyes and he frowned before you pushed on his back and he fell into the water.

“Y/N!” he shouted when he popped above the surface. You got to your feet and headed for the stairs. “What the fuck was that for!”

“See ya,” you said. You were at the top of the stairs before you saw him climb up the ladder onto the decking. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered hard. The water had to be decently cold and he slowly made his way up the steps. You were inside and grabbed some granola bars from the pantry by the time you heard the back door open.

“What happened to you?” asked De as he stared in your direction.

“I fell,” he said. “Later. I need to wash up.”

You skirted away to your room, De knocking at the door and coming inside quickly.

“You want to tell me what happened?” she asked.

“I pushed him in,” you said, taking an angry bite of the bar. She blinked and blinked some more, shaking her head. “Yes?”

“What is going on with you? You could have hurt him.”

“Hurt him? It was cold water,” you said.

“And it’s dangerous to go swimming in the river this time of year because of the current changes, especially near the docks. The rip tide goes right near the shore line,” she said.

“That’s not true. Why are you lying?”

“Because you were not teasing him and having fun when you did that. You were mean. You’ve been mean all day and I know you care about him and me and all of us. Why you’re pretending not to, I have no idea.”

“Maybe I’m tired with the charade now that I’m nearly adopted. It’s exhausting putting up a show like this all the time,” you said. 

“The only one you’re lying to is yourself. Do not leave this room,” she said. She stormed off and you lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how far you’d go with this.

Around nine you were reading on top of your bed, swallowing when the door opened and Jensen stepped inside alone. He shut the door and you tried to ignore him but he snatched the book out of your hands and put it down on the nightstand. You stared up at him before he took a seat on the edge of the bed and leaned in close. You shrank back into the headboard, Jensen narrowing his eyes.

“I figured out what you’re up to and this is one of the most idiotic things I’ve ever seen you do. You should know by now to talk to me and De about this stuff. But I get that the adoption is a big deal. A huge deal and there’s a lot of emotions tied up with all that. So you can act like a child, you can be rude and mean and try to piss me off all you want. You don’t get it yet. Well, you actually do but you’re testing us because you’re still afraid. That’s okay. This is a big day coming up. I understand. But there is nothing you could ever do to make us not want you. You could infuriate me and I will still love you. Love is always constant. I might not like everything you do and you might not like everything I do but we are always a family. I figured out your game and I don’t want to play it anymore. I don’t like when we’re like this. I don’t want you to think that there’s any possible combination of things you could do to get us to stop loving you. I forgive you and your behavior today. Please stop though and come out and say what’s bothering you.”

He sat back and you saw his hair was still damp, green eyes full of concern. You swallowed and looked down, squeezing your eyes shut. The bed shifted some and then you felt his body heat on your left side, occupying the other side of the bed. You remembered the Brolins and felt your face start to scrunch up. They’d never got so far as adopting you but you remember their son brought it up to them once. You remembered pushing back to see how much they’d actually put up with you. All you got was a shove to the floor and a transfer to one of your worst foster homes for it.

“Let me in that head of yours,” he said softly. “I can’t read your mind on this, kiddo. It’s too different.”

“I’m so stupid,” you said, forming a fist and whacking your leg. He caught your arm and stopped you from doing it again. He took the other one too and you tried to turn your body away.

“You were scared. There is a big difference,” he said. “Do you want me to get us an emergency session?”

“No,” you said, his hands releasing you so you could wipe at your eyes. “No. I knew what I was doing. Mostly.”

“What’s the mostly part?” he asked gently. 

“Would you love me if I wasn’t good. I don’t like being bad but...if I was a bitch all the time, would you love me.”

“There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that could ever make us not love you. Even if you acted like that every day, I’d love you. Why would you do something like that though? You know we love you.”

“I know. But the adoption is next week and if you didn’t...if you didn’t love me all the way and just some...I don’t want a family that loves me just some, Jensen.”

“Where am I going wrong?” he asked, fixing your hair back behind your ear. “What can I do to make sure you know it’s always been all the way, just as much as I love your siblings and De.”

“I know that.”

“Then why-”

“Because it’s stuck in my head, Jensen,” you said, his eyes worried and confused, looking for some kind of answer on your face. “Until I get adopted...you can get rid of me. I know you wouldn’t. You know you wouldn’t. But it’s in my head and it’s gonna stay there until the papers are signed. There’s no getting it out. I’ve spent months trying. I’m sorry but I can’t fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” he said. He pulled you into his lap and you turned your head away. “Kiddo.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, turning your head to his chest and burrowing into it. 

“You don’t have to be afraid, honey. If you need the paper, then we’ll get the paper. I’ll make sure you get some copies for you to keep too, okay? Whatever you need to know you’re ours, we’ll give it to you. You just gotta let us know what it is,” he said.

“I’m sorry I pushed you in the water. It was a dick move,” you said, sniffling some and getting his shirt wet.

“I told you before. I’ll take whatever you throw my way. I know this is more than just a day for you coming up. It’s a big life moment and those are scary. Normally it means change and change is scary. The only thing that changes to me is that hopefully we can get rid of that last bit of fear inside. We’ve gotten out a lot the past year. We did really good and it’s okay that there’s some left. But I really hope next Friday it’ll be gone,” he said.

“It will,” you said. He wrapped one arm around you and rubbed your back with the other as a few hiccups escaped you. “Sorry.”

“You apologized enough. It’s done with,” he said. “I just want you to be happy and safe. It’s all I want, sweetie.”

“I wish my head was normal,” you said, hiccuping again as your eyes stung with new tears.

“I love this head,” he said, kissing the top of it. “Your concerns are justified, Y/N. You’ve been hurt and betrayed before. I’ve dealt with pain and problems and life but you’ve gone through more than I have, more than everyone in this house put together. You went through all that by yourself too. Your head is only trying to protect you from more pain and that’s how everyone’s heads work, honey. It’s as normal as everyone else.”

“You never cried around your dad like I do when you were my age. You were normal. You broke rules and curfew, you didn’t worry about getting straight A’s. You were the cool popular nice guy at school and you had girlfriends and you didn’t cry with your dad on a Friday night when you should be out being a normal teenager cause you weren’t a freak.”

“I had a support system. From the time I was born, I never questioned if I was loved and taken care of. I skirted the line a bit but I knew right from wrong. I was a dumb average teenager. I was average and very well could have peaked in high school. I got phenomenally lucky. My parents weren’t happy when I told them I wanted to put off my first semester of college. My dad was livid until we came up with our deal that if I flopped, I’d come home and get a degree. I had support. I could fail and it wouldn’t be more than a bump in the road. I would be living some extraordinarily average life right now if that happened. You’re not average. You were your own parent. You get upset because the idea of failing is so ingrained in you that it’ll be devastating and there is no support system. It’s okay and it’s gonna take us years to get there but we’ll get there. The popular guy is normally peaking now and he’s gonna be the exact opposite of what you want in life. You? The smart cookies, the hard workers, the mature ones, you’re the ones that own businesses, do great things, have exciting and wonderful lives. I got lucky. You don’t need luck. You’re gonna be amazing all on your own.”

“I’m gonna be an architect and help with the brewery. How’s that amazing?” you said.

“Let’s lower that bar a little before you turn into Uncle Jared on me,” he said, kissing the top of your head again. “Think about it. You’re gonna be great at whatever you decide to do. You’ve been through worse. And when I was your age, just so you know, I did cry in front of my dad. I bawled in front of him. I was babysitting your aunt so she was about ten. I, being the dumb average teenager I was, ditched her, left her all home alone while our parents were out of town. Your uncle was in college at the time so it was just us two there. Well, while I went out with my friends, someone broke into our house and your aunt was there all by herself.”

“Did anything bad happen?”

“No, thankfully. They left as soon as they realized someone was home. She called the police and I came home around midnight to our parents there along with a few cops. I thought they were going to murder me right there. My dad said some pretty serious stuff to me. I was grounded for a month needless to say. My sister tried to make me feel better the next day but I didn’t want to, not after what he said. That night my mom took my sister out to the movies for something fun to do. I sat in my room, staring at the door with the lights off. It was winter so it was already dark out and I just couldn’t help but think how scared she’d been. I was supposed to protect her and I let her down. I let my family down. I lost it. I bawled, the hardest I’d ever cried in my entire life and of course that’s when the door opens. I was scared to look up so I put my back to the door and tried to calm down but you know as well as I do it’s easier said than done.”

“What’d grandpa say?”

“He didn’t say anything at first. He walked around the bed and sat down next to me and after a few minutes he told me I made a mistake. He hadn’t seen me cry since I was a kid so I was trying to look not so much like a mess and that wasn’t working and I was expecting him to do some kind of punishment like he would when I was a kid and he just kept looking at me and I had no idea what was going through his head. He asked me if I would make that mistake ever again and I told him no and started making all these promises and he shushed me and told me if I was never going to make that mistake again, there was no need for me to stay upset. He forgave me and I didn’t understand why. I couldn’t contemplate it. I wanted him to hate me as much as I wanted forgiveness. But he told me he’s not capable of hating me so I should take the forgiveness. So we talked a bit and I calmed down and he ungrounded me. He said I was punishing myself worse than he would have ever given me and it was up to me to decide when I was going to be done. So the next few weeks I stuck around home and eventually that friend I’d snuck over to was having a party, the same night my parents were going out. He was over after school that day and made a comment to me about leaving my sister home alone again and I lost it on him. He knew what had happened before. That fight ended our friendship. He was my best friend for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. My dad overheard that fight. He was proud of me and I was proud of me. I stopped feeling guilty that day. So yes, I did cry in front of my dad at your age. I’ve cried since then too. You’re normal but you’re not average. People get those mixed up sometimes.”

You nodded and heard someone at the door, a quick glance telling you it was Danneel.

“You okay, honey?” she asked.

“Yeah. Just…” you said, biting your bottom lip.

“If Y/N is a little agitated the next few days, we’re gonna let it slide. She’s a bit nervous right now,” said Jensen. You saw her face fall and you smiled to yourself. “She wants us. Kiddo’s just a little scared we’ll give her back until we get the papers.”

“Never,” she said, taking a seat on the bed. “Anything we can do to make you feel better?”

“Not really,” you said. You shut your eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry, I know-”

“Alright,” he said. He rolled off bed and threw you over his shoulder as you yelped.

“Jensen!” you said, clinging to his back as best you could.

“You gotta stop apologizing and I know the next week is gonna be long but we are officially going to start the smother session with some homemade nachos and cookie dough ice cream while we watch trashy reality TV,” he said.

“Jensen. She needs a proper dinner,” said De as he carried you down the hall to the kitchen. He set you down on the counter and frowned at him as he went to the fridge. “Jay.”

He turned back at you and you sighed again.

“Okay. How about homemade mac and cheese instead and then you can go relax in our jetted tub with a bath bomb,” he said.

“Tub?” you asked as he went to the cupboard instead and pulled out your favorite kind of pasta.

“It’s relaxing. Even Jensen likes baths when he’s stressed. Besides, you only have a shower in your bathroom and if you don’t want us to smother that’s fine but you should self-smother...self-care...you know what I mean,” said De.

“Can I skip the tub and just have the macaroni?” you asked.

“Yes. Go do something fun while it cooks. It’s gonna be a minute,” said Jensen as he got out a pot.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed-”

“Punishment is over. We wouldn’t have needed one in the first place if you talked so hopefully the rest of the week goes better than tonight, agreed?”

“Yeah,” you said, heading back for your room. “Can you put-”

“I’ll put the crackers on top and put it in the oven when I’m done. I know that’s your favorite,” he said.

“Thanks, Jensen.”

“That’s like, nice,” said Jensen the next afternoon. You raised an eyebrow and walked past the rack, Jensen letting out a sigh. “You don’t wear dresses. This is weird for me too. Mom would be better at this.”

“Where is she again?” you asked, walking past a rack of yellow dresses.

“Some charity thing for the daycare with the kids. She’s supposed to be meeting us with the three musketeers for dinner,” he said.

“So I got stuck with you.”

“Y/N.”

“The dress you suggested would be great for me if I were taller and going to Cinderella's ball, not a courtroom.”

“Well excuse me, fashionista,” he said. “Looked like it’d fit to me.”

“Jensen,” you said. “Just...find something not too expensive.”

“Good thing we went to a boutique store then,” he mumbled under his breath. You wandered out of the petite section and over to the women’s, finding some dresses along the back wall. “Try that one on.”

“What one?” you asked. He pointed at a red one and you bit back a groan. “Why do you keep picking bright obnoxious colors?”

“I don’t know. De does,” he said with a shrug. “She wears a lot of different things, you know that. I learned long ago to just let the woman be right in these situations.”

“That was very intelligent of you to pick up on,” you said. You caught his face in the mirror and grabbed the dress. “I’ll try it on but I don’t want it.”

“Alright. I’ll keep looking,” he said. You went back to the dressing rooms and found an empty stall. You smoothed out the material after pulling it over your head and frowned. You looked so old. You were already trying to remove it when you heard a bubbly voice outside. “Can I see it?”

“No.”

“Ah, come on. Your girls trips are no fun.”

“This isn’t a girls trip.”

“We got lunch and then went shopping. We’re on a girls trip. Come on. I’m impartial,” he said.

“Over my dead body you’re impartial,” you muttered. You fixed the dress and stepped outside, flopping your hands out. “Well?”

“You look beautiful,” he said. “So grown up all of a sudden.”

“I ain’t getting it,” you said. 

“Okay,” he said. He stared and you looked around. 

“Jensen?” you asked, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked and gave you a smile.

“S’not often that I wish you were younger. I don’t care how old you are, honestly. I just wish I could have seen the little girl side of you sometimes,” he said. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve felt more like a kid now than when I was at like, ten, so you’re probably doing something right.”

“Did you want to try the blue one on?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, forcing a smile. You slipped back into the dressing room and got out of the dress, holding it over the top of the door when he came back. He took the red one and you saw something a deep navy color pop over into the stall. “I thought you were getting the blue one?”

“That is the blue one,” he said.

“It’s nearly black,” you said. You grabbed it and started to change, the fit a little more casual and looser. You cocked your head at yourself in the mirror when suddenly a scarf was landing on top of your head. “Jensen!”

“I was wrong. You are fun to shop with,” he giggled to himself. “Incoming.”

You held your arms out that time and caught a black sleek cropped jacket. 

“Jensen, it’s not for a date,” you said.

“Entertain me. I’m paying for it,” he said. You groaned and fixed the infinity scarf over your head, fixing your hair before you put your arms through the jacket sleeves and hiked it up. 

“Oh,” you said, turning to the side. A box slid under the door and you knelt down, finding a pair of short booties with not too much of a heel. You wanted the shoes regardless of how it all looked but when you kicked the box out of the way and looked in the mirror, you understood what he was doing. You stepped outside as he chuckled to himself against the wall, his mouth snapping shut when he saw you. “How’s it look?”

“You look beautiful.”

“You said that last time.”

“You seem more comfortable in that.”

“This isn’t an outfit for a courtroom,” you said.

“No. But you like it. If we can’t find the dress today, at least we got you a nice outfit for going out or a school dance or whatever,” he said. “I know what you like. I’ve learned a thing or two over the years.”

“You would wear a black t shirt or black henley every day if you could,” you said.

“This is true. Let’s get that stuff as part of your adoption present and then we can try another store,” he said. “I got just the one in mind.”

“Alright,” you said. “I want to get coffee on the way though.”

“Duh,” he said with a smile. “I bet this next place will be just the one.”

“Jensen,” you said the second you walked in the store. “This is a suit store. For men.”

“There’s literally a woman right over there,” he said, pointing to someone looking at ties. “Also the women's is in the back.”

You followed him to the back of the store, Jensen stopping at a rack of business dresses.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“More appropriate at least,” you said.

“Stay here one second,” he said. He wandered off and you walked around a bit until he came back with some sales person. “Y/N, this is Mr. Wex. He’s in charge of tailoring here.”

“Tailoring?” you asked.

“Yes. Most items in the store are available for tailoring which we always suggest for the perfect fit. Mr. Ackles said you two were looking for a dress for a big occasion?”

“I’m sorry. Jensen-” you said as the man held up a hand.

“Come with me,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes. “Just like him. I have something in the back that will be perfect.”

“It’s alright,” said Jensen. You crossed your arms and went with the man to the dressing room area. He went through another set of doors and returned with a white long sleeve dress. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to wear white after labor day?” you asked.

“You can pull it off,” he said. “Try it on and then we’ll make adjustments. I have a feeling the sleeves are going to be a tad long.”

You sighed and took the dress, changing quickly and walking back out where there were some mirrors.

“You don’t wear that dress to your adoption and I will,” said Jensen as you turned in front of the mirror.

“The fit is very nice. Just a few minor things aside from the sleeves,” said Mr. Wex. “Do you plan on wearing heels or flats?”

“I like those boots,” you said, Jensen nodding. “Jensen, this dress has got to be like-”

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” you said with a shrug.

“It has pockets,” said Mr. Wex, showing you the one by your left side. 

“Alright, I like it more,” you said. Jensen chuckled and Mr. Wex pulled out a measuring tape. 

“I think we found the one then, kiddo.”

Thursday Night

“I didn’t-” you said, Danneel fuming as she stood on the other side of the counter. “What is wrong with you!”

“You don’t steal things,” she said, hands on her hips.

“I didn’t steal shit!” you said.

“Watch your language!” she said, your brother and sisters starting to get a peaked interest in the conversation from where they played in the living room.

“For the last time, I did not take your credit card!”

“It was in my wallet right when I got home from the store and now it’s missing. I don’t think the toddlers were using it to buy stuff online.”

“I didn’t take it,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“I know you are...there is no justification for stealing though. You-”

“I didn’t fucking take it!” you said under your breath, just in time for a very tired looking Jensen to walk in from the garage.

“Why do you two look like you’re fighting,” he mumbled. “I’m too tired for you two to be fighting.”

“Y/N-”

“De thinks I stole her credit card,” you said, crossing your arms.

“It’s missing and it was in my wallet and it’s not like the other kids would know what to do with it,” she said.

“It wouldn’t happen to be your maroon discover card, would it?” he asked.

“Yes. How do you know that?” she asked.

“No reason,” he said, bending over and picking up some papers the kids had been doing arts and crafts on. He held one up, the card lopsidelly glued to it. She shut her eyes and he ripped it off the paper. “Listen up! Butts in the kitchen!”

The kids ran over, all giggly at the sight of him home for the weekend again, home for a long week actually, and he gave them each hugs and kisses before he was frowning.

“Does anyone know what this is?” he asked, holding up the card.

“Pretty!” said Arrow. You felt yourself simmer down some as Zepp said shiny.

“And who thought to use it in their arts and crafts?” 

“Why’s it not on my paper anymore?” asked Zeppelin. 

“Where’d you get it Zepp?” asked Jensen as he squatted down.

“It was in the paper mommy gave us for college time,” he said.

“Collage,” said Jensen. “You made a collage.”

“Okay,” he said, twisting around.

“Zepp. This isn’t paper. It’s important. If you ever find it, you bring it to mommy or me or Y/N,” he said, giving De a look. She still had her eyes shut and had taken to putting a hand over part of her face. “Okay?”

“Okay. Am I in trouble?” he asked.

“No buddy,” he said.

“Come on,” you said, bending over and picking him up. “I want to go play whatever game you guys are cause it sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Y/N,” said Jensen. You were still mad and he sighed, mouthing later to you as you dived onto the couch with your brother in your arms, getting a big round of giggles out of him.

“Again?” he asked.

“Okay, again,” you said, diving back down. All three of them wanted turns after that and eventually even you couldn’t keep up with them anymore. “Who wants story time?”

Thirty minutes later you’d finished up with JJ and pulled her door shut, sighing as you saw Jensen waiting at the end of the hall. He curled a finger at you and you tried to slip past him down the stairs but he caught up quickly and blocked the path to your room.

“Jensen. She thought-”

“No she didn’t.”

“Yes, she did.”

“Last Friday you were pushing us away to see how much we love you. Think about that. Think about the fact that De has been so excited to get that dress with you and do something she enjoys with you and for weeks you’ve been mean every time it comes up.”

“What are you saying?” you asked.

“I’m saying maybe she got a little scared about how you feel about her too. She knows we’re close. You’ve been irritated with her lately and she got a little concerned.”

“She knows better than to-”

“So do you. But we didn’t get on you for doing that, did we?”

“No.”

“Forgive her. She made a mistake,” he said. He moved aside and headed back towards his room, leaving you there with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss my mom and I feel like De got so mad because I’ve been grumpy lately. As soon as you fly up to work, I just...I like having a mom again.”

“You think of De as your mom?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “It wasn’t like how it was with you. I was never afraid of her. Not like that at least. She was always safe. I’m sorry.”

“You’re allowed to get mad over things, honey. I was glad to see you having an all out argument. It’s healthy and normal and it’s what you do after the fight that matters,” he said.

“I know you're all tired and everything but can I talk to her?”

“You don’t need permission,” he said, waving you to follow after. You followed him down to his room, finding De sat on the bed with her head in her hands and a box of tissues beside her. “We have a visitor.”

“Damnit, Jensen,” she said, turning to the side and wiping off her face. “You could have told her to wait.”

“Nah,” he said. “Excuse me ladies. I need to wash up and then bed.”

He ducked into their bathroom and you carefully took a seat at the end of the mattress. She blew her nose and tossed the tissue in the basket by her side, using another to clean her face again.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought...I shouldn’t have…”

You crawled over and gave her a hug, feeling how tense she was.

“S’okay,” you said. “I’m not mad anymore.”

“I-”

“Even if I get mad, I always love you,” you said. You felt her ease and she moved her arms around you, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Really?” she asked.

“Duh,” you said. 

“I love you too.”

“I know,” you said.

“I take this as a good sign?” asked Jensen. You turned your head and he was already plopping down on his side of the bed with damp hair.

“Yeah,” you said. He shut his eyes and you climbed off the bed when you heard him snoring already. “Is he really asleep?”

“He’s pretty tired. I don’t think he slept on the plane,” she said. “Too excited for tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you said. “I’ll uh, see you guys in the morning then.”

“We have to be there at one so there’s plenty of time. Sleep good, honey.”

“Yeah. I think I finally will for once.”

“So,” said Jensen as you sat on a bench outside the courthouse bouncing your leg like crazy the next day. You turned and he took a seat beside you, undoing the button on his jacket. “We should probably head up soon. It’s almost your turn in there.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leg still going and going. You looked out at the street, watching the gray clouds roll through. He put a hand on your knee and you stopped, staring as he pulled it back.

“What’re you thinking?”

“You were never giving me back, were you.”

“Nope. You’re ours.”

“I wish I just got that. I wish...I wish I’d known I’d finally get picked,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “Nobody wanted me for so long and you guys...I don’t know how to say thank you.”

“We don’t want you to say thank you. We just want you to be part of our family. Entirely selfish of us, I know, but you have amazing bedhead and we kinda really love you. You want to go make this official?”

“Okay,” you breathed out. You stood up and went inside with him, finding the right courtroom. You slipped in the row with him near De and were quiet as you watched a little boy getting his adoption as well.

“If he can do it you can do it,” he whispered to you. You nodded and about five minutes later the judge finished up with them and was returning to her seat.

“Ackles family,” she said. Jensen nudged you and you stood, walking ahead of them as you went up to the table. You could feel your heart in your chest as they took a place on either side of you.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered, grabbing your hand. “S’alright.”

“I know,” you said, swallowing as the judge moved new papers in front of her. She looked at them for a moment before raising her head in your direction.

“That’s a beautiful dress, Y/N,” she said with a smile.

“T-thanks,” you said.

“No need to be nervous,” she said. “So. How old are you?”

“17,” you said.

“Your birthday is in a few weeks it says.”

“Yeah,” you said.

“And you’ve been in the foster care system since you were ten.”

“Yeah.”

“How many homes?”

“14.”

“You like these two?” she asked. You nodded and she smiled. “You really like ‘em?”

“I love them.”

You felt Jensen squeeze your hand and you felt yourself calm down.

“They good to you? Give you a good home?”

“Yes.”

“After 14 homes I would expect you’d know the difference,” she said with a knowing smile. “I don’t see kids your age on days like this that often. You think you got a couple of good ones?”

“They’re alright,” you said.

“Just alright?”

“They’re my parents,” you said. You felt both of them looking but you didn’t move away from looking at the judge. “They gave me my life back. They take care of me. I love them more than they’ll ever be able to comprehend. A year ago I was miserable. If they did all that in less than a year, I know I’m gonna be alright for the rest of my life with them.”

“Mom, dad, how’s that sound to your guys?” she asked.

“S’good,” said Danneel. You could hear the slight crack to her voice and you grabbed her hand.

“What about dad?”

“I’m okay with that,” he said.

“Let’s get this party on the road then, hm?”

Ten minutes later she was standing up as Jensen finished signing his name.

“Alright, Y/N. As of five seconds ago, Jensen and Danneel are no longer your foster parents and are your official and legal parents. How’s that feel?”

“I feel like I could have worn the blue dress,” you said. Jensen broke out laughing and the photographer caught it. You grinned and saw him take another as you heard some of your family members joining in.

“You did that on purpose,” he said as he settled himself.

“Obviously,” you said. The judge handed you something to hold and they situated themselves around you. A few more pictures were taken before you were heading out of the room, some girl around JJ’s age looking at a set of people with a nervous look. “It’s easier than it looks.”

She gave you a smile on your way out, waiting a moment for everyone that’d decided to come to filter out. Jensen grabbed your arm though and tugged you around a corner with Danneel and the kids, giving you a big grin.

“So, how you feel?” he asked.

“Good,” you said. “Very good.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” said Arrow. You laughed and she looked up at you, cocking her head. “Did you get arrested?”

“No, you sassy child,” you said. “I got adopted.”

“What’s that?” asked Zeppelin who was wandering off down the hall.

“Zepp!” shouted Danneel, chasing after him and pulling him back.

“Well it means I am no longer technically not your sister,” you said. The twins stared at you and JJ pouted.

“I thought you already did that,” she said.

“Nothing impresses these children, I swear,” said Jensen as his dad rounded the corner. “It’s an important day. Oh hey, dad. Can you get a picture before the masses try to take up all her time?”

“Sure,” he said, taking Jensen’s phone. “I got you a really good present, not to brag or anything.”

“I thought I said no presents.”

“We lied,” he said, holding up the camera. “Say cheese!”

“Well hello Ms. Ackles,” said Jensen late that night, long after people had gone home or to hotels or were sleeping on the couches around the house. You looked up from where you sat by the fire, watching the flames flicker. You were bundled down in your hoodie and a pair of sweats, Jensen carrying a small bag with him.

“You write me another letter and you do realize I’m gonna run out of tears at some point right?” you asked.

“You loved it,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and set the bag down by your feet. He sat down in the chair beside you, resting the two cans of beer from the brewery on the arm. He picked one up and held it over to you. “Come on. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I’ve never had beer before,” you said. 

“We did something right with you,” he chuckled. “It’s a big day. One beer won’t kill you. You’ll probably even get drunk from it so that’s exciting.”

“You’re such a guy,” you said, taking it from him. You popped the tab open and took a sip, making a face for a second. You took another one and liked it better. By the third you actually liked it. “It’s good. I think.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “Just go slow.”

“Worrywart,” you said. You slumped back into your seat, enjoying the smell of the fire as a cool breeze tickled your face. “What’s in the bag?”

“That red dress,” he said. You peeled open your eyes and he shrugged, staring at the fire. “Someday when you’re older, you’re gonna want a dress like that. You’re gonna wipe him off his feet.”

“Thanks, Jensen,” you said. “I liked all of them. I was...I don’t think I’m gonna be scared anymore. I’m gonna try not to be.”

“Good. Except for bugs though.”

“Bugs is forever and always your department,” you said.

“Gonna call me to come kill the spider when you live in your own house?” he asked.

“Yes. 100% yes,” you said.

“That’s my girl,” he said, smiling as he sunk down and took a long swig. “De said you’ll find out about early acceptance at UT week after next.”

“Yeah. I got the grades. I just hope I did well enough on my paper. The architecture program is kinda selective,” you said.

“She said you don’t want to live on campus, you want to commute,” he said.

“If that’s okay.”

“You can live here forever. I will take every second I can have. I just wanted to make sure that’s what you wanted. We’re paying for whatever you don’t get in scholarships. From what your guidance counselor says, you’re looking at a half-ride already.”

“I’d like to stay. I haven’t been here that long,” you said.

“No, you haven’t. Been an interesting year,” he said. “Good year.”

“Yup,” you said, snuggling into the fleece hoodie.

“I’m not getting my hoodie back, am I,” he said.

“We can share? It’s fleece.”

You burrowed into it and he nodded.

“We can share. I want visiting rights for my vacation with De at the beginning of next year,” he said. 

“She still doesn’t know, right?” you asked. He shook his head and you smiled. “She’s gonna love it Jensen.”

“Fingers crossed. Speaking of that trip, I have a favor to ask. Would you be opposed to watching the kids that weekend?”

“I thought grandma and grandpa were coming down,” you said.

“They were but it was in the middle of a trip they were supposed to take. We said it was covered. Think you can survive a few days without us?”

“You trust me?” you asked. He smiled and took a sip from his can.

“We’ll go over a few things so you’re not overwhelmed. You can do it. We just didn’t want to take up your whole weekend if you didn’t want to,” he said.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Thanks. I think you guys will have fun,” he said. “Can I ask you something at risk of possibly making you want to go undo what we did today?”

“Well now I’m interested,” you said, looking over to him. “Shoot.”

“Why do you never talk about your parents or growing up with them outside of therapy?”

You shrugged and he returned it.

“You can talk to us about them. We would really love to know more about them and what they were like,” he said. “We know they were good but you treat them sometimes like a before it seems that you don’t want to go back to.”

“You know what I said in therapy.”

“I know what I said too. You’re not making us jealous or making us feel inadequate,” he said. “Talk about whatever you want to talk about, always. I just wonder sometimes.”

“How easy is it for you to remember before you were ten?�� you asked.

“Fair point. I got more years on you though.”

“I remember some, not all of it. I don’t remember what they said to each other. I don’t remember what we used to talk about at dinner. I just remember feelings mostly. They’re good ones. Mostly.”

“The accident.”

“Yeah. My mom had a miscarriage about six months before,” you said. “She was a couple months along I think.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It was enough that they told me. A week later...it went bad. They had problems having kids they told me. They’d been trying a long time to give me a sibling they said.”

“I never knew that either.”

“I know that breakfast, the day of the accident, they talked to me about this, adoption. I was already ten and they wanted to know what I thought about adoption,” you said with a laugh. “They had no idea what was gonna happen that night.”

“If every parent could see every horror that was out there for their child, I’m pretty sure you’d never leave your room again,” he said. “So what’d you think back then?”

“I was excited. Really excited. My life seems very different then than now. I don’t try to hide them. I think about them everyday. I don’t know what to say is all.”

“You don’t have to say anything. You can if you want to is all.”

“I know.”

“That was very sweet what you said earlier back in court.”

“Jensen,” you said.

“Alright, alright. Enough sap for one day,” he said. “It really was a good day?”

“Best day in a long time. Well, second best day,” you said. He cocked his head and you shrugged. “Day I came here wasn’t that bad either.”

“You like us,” he teased.

“Oh shut up,” you said, taking a drink.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he said. “It’ll be our little secret.”

“You’re such a dork, Jensen.”

“I know but you love it.”

“You’re alright,” you said, finishing off your can. 

“Happy adoption day, tall munchkin,” he said.

“Thanks. For everything.”

“Back at ya,” he said. “Now about that present…”

________

A/N: Read the Oh Baby timestamp here!

[ineffable-snowman]

(apologies in advance to the people who followed me for Good Omens. I’m diving headfirst into a new fandom, so I’m afraid there’s going to be a lot of Sambucky in the next three weeks at least...)

I wrote a fic inspired by episode 3 of FATWS. Read it here or on AO3.

Trouble Man

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete, comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience.”

What kind of passive-aggressive bullshit was that? It was annoying enough that Zemo insisted on calling him ‘James’ in that patronising way of his but now he tried to lecture him or rather tried to make him look stupid, uncultured and ignorant. Bucky wanted to laugh at Zemo’s comment that sounded more like he was quoting a Wikipedia article to appear sophisticated, but then Sam spoke up.

“He is out of line – but he is right.”

Fuck Zemo. Seriously, Bucky had enough reason to hate Zemo but this was on another level. This was personal. He made Bucky look stupid, uncultured and ignorant in front of Sam. And the thing was, he was mostly ignorant about Marvin Gaye. He had listened to some of the tracks from Trouble Man just because they were on Steve’s list, and had quickly decided that it was not his kind of music. Now he wished he had at least listened to the whole album so he could contribute more than a weak “I like Marvin Gaye”, which fooled absolutely no one. He had no idea how a simple conversation about music had escalated like this. It had seemed like perfectly normal banter, Sam making fun of him for being old-fashioned, and then Zemo had interfered with that comment and it was downhill from there.

For some reason Sam was very passionate about Marvin Gaye and Bucky was intent on finding out why. Also, he needed to find out how music could be “complete, comprehensive” and “capture the African-American experience.” In his experience, music was used for dancing and for fun and that’s all there was to it. He stared at the notebook. There was some really good advice in it, like Thai food or Star Wars. So far, Bucky had not seen the appeal of Marvin Gaye. But apparently Steve had. If Steve had adored the music so much, why had he just simply crossed it out in a neat line and not, for example, put an exclamation mark behind it? Bucky added two exclamation marks.

Right, how to do this? Not for the first time he regretted just getting a simple flip phone instead of one of those fancy smartphones. When the shop assistant had told him that he needed a phone for taking photos and listening to music, Bucky had almost laughed at him. Talking about stupid… He could really use Youtube or Google now.

“Do you have a computer with internet?” he asked Sharon.

She looked at him like he was stupid (it was becoming a theme) but showed him to a computer and even gave him earphones. Then he started to listen to Trouble Man and this time did not skip any tracks but listened to the whole songs. He also googled the lyrics but that did not leave him any the wiser. Doctor Raynor would probably tell him to use his goddamn mouth and just ask someone, for heaven’s sake. He would rather get frozen again than ask Zemo. But it also felt extremely wrong that Zemo, who was supposed to be one of the bad guys, seemed to know and understand Sam better than Bucky, who was supposed to be Sam’s…whatever. Were they friends? Bucky certainly considered Sam a friend (although he never would say it out oud), probably the only friend he had left. Someone who texted you and asked you how you were and invited you to lunch was a friend, right? Someone who even saved your ass and (repeatedly) broke the law for you was a very good friend. But did Sam consider someone his friend who did not text back, who repeatedly got him into trouble, kept things from him and had even tried to kill him? Bucky stared at the screen. It was a miracle Sam had not tried to kill him yet. It was even more of a miracle that he was still being nice (sometimes). He googled “Trouble Man” and “African-American experience”. To his disappointment, it was not a quote from a Wikipedia article. So Zemo knew what was going on and Bucky did not. He turned up the volume and tried to make sense of the lyrics (“Got me singin' – yeah, yeah – Hoo“).

“Finally doing some catching up on the good stuff?”

Bucky turned around so quickly that the earphones were ripped out of his ears. Sam had put up his hands in defence and was babbling something about attacking or not attacking or whatever.

“Jesus.” Bucky consciously unclenched his left fist. “Couldn’t you just knock?”

“I did. You didn’t answer.” Sam pointed at the screen where the Youtube video of Trouble Man was still running. “I knew it,” he said gleefully. “You have no idea who Marvin Gaye is.”

“I do!” Bucky protested but then trailed off because he may have heard some of Gaye’s songs but he still did not know who Marvin Gaye was.

“So.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you think? Honestly.”

Bucky looked from Sam to the screen to the dangling earphones. I like it was not an appropriate answer. Not an honest one. “I don’t get it,” he finally said.

“No appreciation for good music.” Sam sighed dramatically. “Hopeless. Stuck in the 40s forever.”

Bucky could have left it at that. They were on common ground again, bickering but not hurting each other, it felt familiar, safe. “No,” he said nevertheless. “I – how? How is this music – how does it…capture the African-American experience? Most of the songs don’t even have lyrics.”

“You don’t need lyrics for music to be meaningful.”

“How? Is it because people listen to it in certain situations or…?”

“Alright. Ready for a lesson on 20th century music? You better take notes.”

Bucky opened the notebook and took a pen. Then he noticed Sam’s grin. Right, he hadn’t meant it literally. But now Bucky had already opened the notebook and he was determined to go through with it. So he wrote down all the names Sam dropped, the musical genres and important songs. It was a lot and, as a lot of things, it confused Bucky but he just rolled with it. So some bands destroyed instruments on stage and certain music apparently had a soul? Great. Speaking of souls, this was probably the right time for some soul-gazing to show Sam that he was actively listening. (Doctor Raynor would be so proud of him.) Sam kept bringing up the soul thing several more times until finally Bucky could not keep quiet any longer.

“What’s with this soul music? Is it, like…music for funerals?”

Sam stared at him. Bucky stared back.

“Okay, scoot over.” Sam squeezed on the chair next to Bucky so Bucky almost fell over on the other side. Then he reached over Bucky to grab the mouse, opened another tab and chose a Youtube video for Bucky to listen to. “This is soul music.”

It was highly uncomfortable because the chair was not made for two people and they both weren’t exactly small but Bucky was resolved to stay on the chair, at least with one thigh. Sam chose video after video, pointed out characteristic musical features, quoted parts of the lyrics and talked about the history or the significance the songs. It was still a lot and Bucky still did not get everything but he dutifully took notes to look up some things in detail later. When he had filled the sixth page in his notebook, Sam stopped the music lesson.

“So, 40s music. Any recommendations?”

Bucky turned to face him. They were awfully close. Sam’s eyes were somehow very soft, there was the hint of a smile on his lips and he looked very huggable in that thin turtleneck – and he looked genuinely interested in Bucky’s answer. Bucky felt hot shame flooding him. Sam could be aggravating and an outright asshole but he was too kind for this world. Too kind to Bucky.

“Nah,” he mumbled. “Music in the 40s was just for dancing, for fun. Not…not important like your music.”

“Oh, you can dance just fine to my music,” Sam said in mock outrage. “Come on.” He elbowed Bucky out of the chair and chose another Youtube video, then stood up, too.

“Soul music?” Bucky guessed when the first chords of an electric guitar could be heard.

“Funk. Close enough.”

Sam started to move to the music. It should be ridiculous, the weird moves he was doing, because that certainly wasn’t proper dancing, not the dancing Bucky knew anyway – no rehearsed dancing steps, more like a spontaneous swaying to the music and some of the moves were definitely ridiculous but Sam made them look, well, smooth.

“See, that’s dance music, too,” Sam said and came to stand in front of Bucky.

Bucky had no idea why it was even called dancing but he wasn’t going to say that because he did not want to offend Sam again.

But of course Sam had to nag him. “Spit it out.”

“What?”

“I can see the cyborg gears turning. What’s wrong with dancing?”

“Nothing. Just not what I’m used to.”

“You can choose the next song. For now – get those hips moving.” He nudged Bucky, and how could Bucky say no? After Sam had spent all that time educating him and only mildly making fun of him for his ignorance, he owed it to him.

“This is ridiculous, I feel ridiculous,” Bucky complained when he tried to copy some of Sam’s moves.

“You’re doing great,” Sam said but he was grinning, clearly enjoying how Bucky was making a fool of himself. “Maybe tone down the staring a bit.”

Well, if it made Sam happy… Bucky decided to give it his all and moved wildly to the rhythm, not caring if it could be called ��dancing” or not. Nonetheless, he was a little relieved when the song was over.

“Your turn.” Sam indicated the computer.

Bucky had no idea which song to pick. He tentatively typed “Billie Holiday” into the search bar.

“Seriously?” Sam came up behind him. “You know Billie Holiday and say you don’t understand how music can capture the African-American experience?”

It was like a punch in the face. A well-deserved punch probably. “I mostly saw her as the singer of love songs, for slow dancing,” he admitted. “Never really…thought much about it.”

“So what, you’re going to slow dance with me, Barnes?” It wasn’t the usual good-natured banter but sounded more like an accusation.

“Look, Sam, I…” Bucky rubbed his temples. “Let’s head downstairs to that party to…” hopefully not dance. Whatever. Get out of this situation where, he feared, he was breaking rule #2 again.

“No, let’s do this.” Sam clicked on the first link and a swing tune started to play, Me, Myself and I. “Let’s slow dance if that’s what you do.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

It was certainly the most aggressive ask for a dance he had ever received. And he had never been this stiff during a dance before. He used to be a good dancer back in the days but now he felt clumsy when he placed his hand on Sam’s back while trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.

They had not even made eight uncoordinated steps when Sam started to speak. “Would it hurt you to use that brain of yours once in a while? It’s supposed to be working properly again, isn’t it? That’s what I heard at least.”

Doctor Raynor’s words came back to him, that he was free. To do what? Certainly to do better than hurt the man who had always had his back without Bucky ever having done anything to deserve that kind of loyalty.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unconsciously tightening his grip on Sam’s back.

“What for?”

Everything. “For being…kind of… thoughtless, I guess.”

Being so close, he could actually feel Sam exhale. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“For being a huge dick,” Bucky offered.

“Better,” Sam grumbled. “Now, was that so hard?”

Bucky took a step back to gauge Sam’s reaction. He was relieved to find no traces of hurt or betrayal in Sam’s eyes, just the usual exasperation he put on when looking at Bucky. “Yes. Physically painful,” he tentatively tested the water. It was like a dance, back and forth, seeing how far you could get.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I hate you. And please stop staring.”

Bucky shrugged and pulled Sam close again, in fact, so close that he did not have to look into Sam’s eyes anymore but was now staring at his left shoulder. Sam was visibly relaxing in Bucky’s arms and wasn’t that a miracle, that he was still in Bucky’s arms, still allowed Bucky to hold him?

“Thank you,” Bucky mumbled into Sam’s shoulder.

“What for?”

Everything. Bucky tightened his hold on Sam (and silently thanked the autoplay function that started the next song because he was in no way ready to let go of Sam yet). “I’m a mess and you don’t deserve all that shit I throw at you.”

“Mm. You’re welcome.” Sam squeezed his shoulder, like a reassurance that he would continue to put up with all of Bucky’s bullshit. Too damn kind for this world. Good thing he had Bucky on his side who was going to beat up everyone who so much as tried to exploit Sam’s kindness. (Yes, he knew he was being hypocritical and should technically start with beating up himself.)

“Sharon was wrong,” Bucky said. “I’m not obsessed with the whole stars and stripes stuff. I didn’t follow Steve because he had that shield. And I’m – well, you might’ve noticed I’m here and not following that – that asshole. Sam, I think you should take the shield but, with or without the shield, I’ll follow you. Just so you know.”

Sam was silent for quite some time, they were just swaying gently to the music, until Bucky heard close to his ear, “That a threat, Buck?” He could almost sense the smile against his cheek.

“Just a fact. And I hate you too, by the way.”

[1a-imagines]

Can I request a one shot for Bakugou when he's a Pro Hero and opens up his own agency, since heroes have to be out and about all day and night they're exhausted, so the agency has a personal shopper system and that's how he meets the reader. The reader is back and forth a lot, they never know who specifically they shop for, they just gets lists and also acts as asistant to anyone. Jealous coworkers see them getting along with Bakugou and they start overworking them?

A/n: This was so much fun! And what better time to post it than the lil shits brithday? Nah. I love him really

Quick little side note sort of ended being more of a personal assistant than a shopper but i hope you enjoy anyway.

----

"Ground zero, sir? Here are those files you wanted. O-oh! And since it's lunch I thought you might appreciate some food so I went out and ordered some curry for you." You sent him a smile as you watched his eyes widen at the food placed on his desk.

"Why?"

"H-huh?"

He let out a sigh. "You didn't need to do that.." he muttered softly. He could never understand why you always felt the need to go out of your way to do nice things for him. Sure you were technically the office assistant, it was your job to help him, but you weren’t required to buy him lunch!

He reached over and gratefully took the food. The smell alone was making his stomach growl. "Oh it's no problem! You always forget to eat when you're busy! And you’re busy a lot these days, since your rank is rising so quickly. I figured, as your assistant, I should make sure you're eating properly too."

He looked down at the food, you really were too nice for your own good. Looking out and caring for people who you owed nothing to. It annoyed him to no end! If you kept being so nice to everyone then people were going to take advantage of you! He had to keep a careful watch on you at all times to make sure you weren’t getting into trouble!

Granted, he didn’t really have to look out for you but who else would do it if he didn’t!?

He had been skeptical when his colleagues had suggested hiring someone like you for the company.

‘Oh great! Another headache to deal with!’ had been his first thoughts.

But he had to admit that it was one of the best decisions his company had made, and he didn't just think that because he actually liked having you around compared to some of the other idiots around here. You were helpful, and you took a load off his work pile every now and then, you brought him drinks and made sure no one bothered him when he was busy working. It made his work life all the more easier.

"Thanks." He hesitantly grumbled before taking a bite, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lit up for a slight second. "This is really good! How the hell do you know what I like?"

You let out a giggle. "You're a popular hero with a big following, all I had to do was search up 'Ground Zeroes favourite foods' and I learned that you like spicy food pretty quickly!" You really went to all that trouble just to get him lunch? He huffed through his nose. "Stalker."

"EH!?" he chuckled at your reaction before continuing. "Next time you can just ask me what I like. You don't have to go browsing the internet like some stalker fangirl." His smirk widened as he watched your face turn red.

"O-oh- right! Yes.. Of course!" Teasing you was way too easy and way too fun.

“You said it was lunch right? Have you had your lunch break?” he asked after taking another bite of the food. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes. Just like you always had to make sure he was eating well and taking breaks he had to do exactly the same for you. He didn’t need his assistant collapsing on him.

“Take it now then, here-” he reached over and pulled another chair closer to his desk. “You can eat with me since you got way too much food for me.” It wasn’t that much, he just wanted a reason for you to stay around for a while longer. He didn’t know why, he usually preferred spending breaks alone, it was practically the only time he got a break from everything and everyone. But, there was just something about you that made him feel at ease. He actually enjoyed talking to you, and this was a rare thing for him.

He loved watching you tense up at such a simple request. It was almost like you were surprised he wanted to eat with you. Then again, he didn’t do this with any other of his employees.

“Are you sure it’s ok sir?” You asked unsurely.

He sighed at your never ending courtesy. “I wouldn’t say it otherwise, just sit down.” You compiled and sat next to him.

He gave you half his food and you eagerly dug in, running around after people all day was a good way to work up an appetite, but as soon as the spiciness of the curry hit your palate your face turned red and you began to cough as the heat scorched your throat.

Bakugo burst out laughing at your reaction, your face had twisted into pain as you began gulping down water, it didn’t really help much. Your lips and tongue still felt like they were on fire. How can he stomach this stuff!?

You had never heard Bakugo laugh so hard before- or at all for that matter.

Once you cooled off you couldn’t help but laugh with him. It was nice to see him smiling for once, even if it was at your own expense.

Your combined laughter carried out of his office and down to where the rest of your coworkers were working. They could hear the pure joy you two were sharing from all the way down the hall and a few of them began to pry. They had never before heard their usually grumpy boss laugh like that.

Three of them walked up and peaked through the window to his office. You two hunched over laughing with tears in your eyes, you looked awfully close, a little too close for some of their likings.

“Hmph! What a suck up she is!” Setsuko muttered bitterly as her eye’s narrowed at the sight.

“I know.. We’ve worked here for years!! And yet Y/n who's been here what? Three months? gets all the special treatment?” Kimiko agreed.

“I-I don’t know.. She’s just doing her job..” Mariko chimed in as they watched the two of you wipe the tears from your eyes. She had never seen their boss so happy before, usually he was in a bad mood over something or other. However, when you were around, he seemed to soften up, it was kind of sweet in a way. She enjoyed seeing this new side you brought out of him, but she knew that a few of your fellow co-workers didn’t enjoy this “special treatment” you got.

“Don’t be stupid Mariko! You don’t see her getting the rest of us lunch do you? She’s supposed to help everyone around the office! She’s just trying to get a promotion!” Setsuko countered as they turned away from the window.

“That’s a good point though!” Kimiko grinned, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “She’s our assistant too. Maybe we should start taking more advantage of that?”

Mariko shifted uncomfortably at the suggestion, “I-I’m not so sure-”

“Good idea Kimiko! She needs to learn her place!” They completely ignored the shy, petite girl next to them. Mariko couldn’t stand listening to their childish plans and walked away from the scene.

As soon as you left Ground zeroes office after your lunch break the two girls approached you with friendly smiles on their faces. “Y/n! Glad we found you! We have some boxes over there that need to be put in the basement? Think you could do it for us?”

You sent them a curt nod, “Of course!” Thought you regretted not looking over at the box pile before answering. The pile of boxes just about reached the ceiling! There were so many! Your jaw dropped as Setsuko patted your shoulder. “Thanks a bunch!” Was the last thing they said before leaving you to it.

“Ok, I can do this! They might not even be that heavy! Maybe I can carry a few at a time and be done quickly!”

They’re so fucking heavy!

One box in and your arms were already aching, what was in these things!? Bricks?! That was the only thing you could assume from the weight of them. You weren’t sure what kind of bad luck you had been cursed with today but suddenly it seemed like your shift was going to become a lot more grueling.

Three hours later and you were practically crawling along the floor, the pile still only half finished. You had the great idea of using an old desk chair with wheels so you could push a few boxes along at a time but it was still really heavy and taking forever! Not that you could exactly do anything about it, this was your job. At least you didn’t deal with this everyday.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead and shook your arms to relieve the pain. “Just a few more left!” You tried to encourage yourself.

Little did you know about Marikos guilty, green eyes staring at you from across the office.

The week didn’t get any better for you. You were constantly running around having to do these ridiculously hard tasks all alone. They’ve had you fixing all the broken office chairs, scanning about 500 pages of forms only to say they didn't need  them anymore, they’ve had you going all over town to buy supplies or lunches for them, as well as running up and down all 50 floors of the office building doing a bunch of other ridiculous tasks for them. It felt unfair but it’s not like they were making you do things that were outside of your job description? So how could you complain about them when they weren’t really doing anything wrong?  

You felt so exhausted. You couldn’t even enjoy your breaks without them coming to ask favours of you. You felt even worse that you had barely any time to help Bakugo with his tasks. You were sure he didn’t need help- he always stressed he could do everything alone but you hoped he was at least remembering to eat. He was always too focused on becoming the number one that he often forgot to take care of himself unless you were there to remind him.

“Y/n! Would you mind going to grab us some coffee?” Kamiko asked you as you handed them the prints they wanted you to fetch,

Ok, that was a pretty simple task! That’s not unreasonable at all! You sent them a smile, a smile that was slightly strained due to your fatigue, “Of course!” You stepped around them to head towards the break room where the coffee machine was, but before you could go far they stopped you again. “Oh! No! The coffee in the break room is kind of gross, it’s never strong enough ethier, especially when you have a mountain of paperwork.” Setsuko giggled. “Would you mind going to ‘The steamed bean’? Here are the directions if you need them!” She handed you a note and you gawked at the address, It was all the way over the other side of town! “Y-you realise I don’t have a car to travel this far right?”

“Ah, we know, but we figured you wouldn’t mind since it’s a nice day and all! Besides, Exercise could do you some good!”

‘What's that supposed to mean…’

“Ok.. I guess I could but-!”

“Thanks so much! You’re a doll! We owe ya!” Kamiko waved as they walked off. “-won't it be cold by the time I get back…” You trailed off, speaking to the empty space they once stood in. You sighed. It was your job to assist them, but sending you all the way across town for coffee? It was a bit unreasonable. You just couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to argue about it.

You set off on your journey through the city, You had to admit that it was a nice day but the walk was too long for your liking. You could’ve gotten the train or a bus but you didn’t tend to bring change with you to work, You had a weird feeling Setsuko and Kamiko might have known about that. So it left you with walking.

The walk gave you a lot of time to think over the past week and all the jobs they’ve had you do. There was just no doubt about it.

‘They’re taking advantage of me.’

You sighed. Maybe Bakugo was right about you being too nice, a pushover even.. He had warned you about it time and time again but you didn’t listen. Being kind was just in your nature. You had every right to file a complaint against them for overworking you, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough, so why didn’t you? Because it was your job? Because you didn’t want to be causing trouble in the first few months of being there?

You huffed. You were angry with yourself for letting it get this far!

Though, you were too far into the walk to turn back now, the coffee shop wasn’t much father but you made a note to yourself to let this be the last unreasonable task you did for them!

The walk was almost an hour a half. You’ve never felt so relieved to see a coffee shop sign in your life! You couldn’t have felt more happy for your aching feet but when you made it to the door you noticed the sign had been turned to-

“Closed!?” you squeaked in defeat. All this walking for… this!? You sighed, Taking a moment to lean your body against the brick wall of the building.

Soon, you began trudging back to the office. You couldn’t exactly return to them with nothing, You didn’t want to get in trouble for not doing your job properly, and something told you that they wouldn’t hesitate to put in a complaint about you given the opportunity. So you bought them coffee from a different place before you got back.

You were dragging your feet at this point, your legs numb, you weren’t entirely sure what time it was; but the sun was begging to set over the city, leaving an orange glow in its wake. Once you arrived back at the office you found your two coworkers talking to Bakugo as they packed away their stuff. “We got everything finished on time thanks to your help sir!”

“Yeah, whatever..” He dismissed them and turned around to see you standing there, you looked overheated and sweaty from the 3 hour walk in the sun you had just taken, the bags under your eyes were prominent on your face, right next to how flushed your cheeks were. He blinked.

“The hell happened to you? You look like a mess.” He commented and you shot him a soft glare for the jab. “I was just out getting coffee for-” you looked behind him to see they had both left. You deflated, you eye twitched in annoyance. They really just-

Bakugo followed your gaze, catching on. “Why the hell would you go into the city to get coffee for them? We have coffee here.” He crossed his arms. You shrugged and placed the two coffee cups down on a nearby empty desk. “They asked and it’s sort of my job to assist them.”

“And now their shifts are over and you went to all the trouble for nothing.” He pointed out and you internally groaned. “Yeah.. pretty much.”

The office was practically empty now apart from the odd few night staff that were coming in for their shifts. You knew you had been set up, this wasn’t just bad luck like you had first thought. But why would your coworkers do this to you?

“Well better not let them go to waste.” Bakugo sat down and took one of the coffee cups. You smiled a little. It felt like he was looking out for you in a way, It was sweet. You sat down opposite him and let out a big sigh of relief at weight off your feet. You tried to relax your tired body as much as you could. It felt like the first time you had relaxed in a week. Your behaviour made Bakugo raise an eyebrow. “How fucking far did you go for coffee?” he asked you before taking a sip out of his cup. “The steamed bean.” you heard him choke on his drink and you jumped up. “Are you ok!?”

“Are you!?”  He backfired, staring up at you in disbelief. “Why the hell would you go there!? Not only is it miles away but you know it’s always shut on wednesdays, right?” you suddenly felt the need to collapse and sink into the floor.

It’s always closed on wednesdays!?

They really did set you up then!

You sat back down and Bakugos eyes followed you. “Oh.. don't tell me that's why you’re in pain.. You didn’t walk did you?” he narrowed his eyes, you could tell he was judging you and it made you too shy to give a reply. The look on your face must have said enough because he shook his head at you. “Idiot.”

“They asked and-”

“Just because it’s “your job” doesn’t mean you have to take that shit from them! Don’t let people use you and overwork you!” he scolded. You couldn’t help but smile despite being lectured and he noticed. “What? Why do you have that stupid look on your face?”

“I just- didn’t realise you cared so much about me.” He saw his shoulders tense which only made you smile more. This was priceless.

“I don’t- I just don’t want my employees being overworked!” He defended himself but you couldn’t fully believe his words. “You can’t fool me that easily, I’ve already heard plenty from the other workers around here that you’re a pretty stern boss. You’re serious about work and get annoyed when it’s not done on time.”

“Who the fuck said that!?”

“Point is! I’ve never actually seen that side of you. So either everyone else is lying or..” You shyly looked away “you have a soft spot for me~”

You heard him tut, his head also turned away from you as he crossed his arms. “That’s the conclusion you’ve come to? You’re dumber than I thought.”

“Well, you do invite me to eat lunch with you a lot, even making dumb excuses like “theres just too much food to eat it alone”, and you stay back after your shift ends just to talk and drink coffee with me.” You gestured to the scene around you, feeling pride when you saw his cheeks turn red. You knew that you had busted him. You let out a laugh at his reaction and he muttered for you to shut up.

Something about you laughing at him really pushed his buttons. He didn’t like that the tables had turned on him. Usually it was him teasing you, you were the one supposed to be blushing! Now he was the one with red cheeks and he couldn’t stand for this! “So what if I am a little soft for you?”

“h-huh!?”

“If I happen to like you a little more than everyone else around here? What are you going to do about it?”

“I- you-”

He smirked, just like that he had turned it back around. So easy. This was how it should be. With you getting all embarrassed and shy, not him. You hunched over in defeat, you were too tired to play this game with him right now. Especially when you knew you wouldn't win.

Though, you couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it? Did he really like you more than everyone else?

You took a nice long gulp of the warm coffee, you couldn’t wait for the energy boost, you really needed it after the week you had just had.

“You don’t have to worry about those two anymore.” He suddenly spoke up.

“What? Why?” You asked as you watched Bakugo absentmindedly fiddle with the cup. “Cause they’re getting fired tomorrow.” He smirked and you froze up. Were they getting fired because of you!? You knew they deserved it but you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Jobs are how people make a living, their source of income and if they don't have that then-

“Quit your worrying would you?” His voice cut through your thoughts, you blushed at how easy he could see through you.

“Listen, it’s not just because of you, though you are a big part of it.” He muttered the last part so you couldn’t hear and before you could ask him to repeat himself he carried on. “When I was helping them with work today the files they’ve been writing up on their computers were complete shit. I can’t have people like that in my agency.” You sighed in relief. Bakugo leaned forward to lock eyes with you. He glared. “Also, Mariko told me everything they’ve been making you do the past week.”

Your lips parted in shock. “Mariko?”

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry I didn’t help sooner.” You turned in your chair to see the shy girl approaching. “I-I knew what they were doing and I thought they’d stop but they didn’t- I’m not really good at confrontation you see so I-” she inhaled through her nose. Stopping herself from making excuses. “I’m very sorry I let it go on. I told our boss when I found out they sent you all the way across town on foot to a closed coffee shop. I wish I had said something sooner. I’m sorry.” She bowed deeply and you tensed up at the confession. You had never expected this from her. You could see how genuine she was being, how sorry she felt. You placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her up. “It’s ok.” You smiled. “Thank you for helping me in the end! I really appreciate it.” You told her, Mariko seemed unsure, but curtly nodded anyway, “If you’re sure.”

She glanced over to her boss who’s eyes had never left you, despite you turning away. It reminded her of the look on his face when she told him about what had been happening. She wished you could have seen it, how worried he was. Maybe then you would understand just how much he cared for you. This wasn’ just a simple workplace relationship anymore.

She giggled quietly, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “Well I should be off! Have fun you two!” She waved. You waved back, though you were unsure what that look she had given you was about.

“Never ever let anyone take advantage of you again you hear me?” Ah, back to the lecture now. You sent him a smile and nodded. “I’ll try my best”

He groaned at your answer. Trying isn't good enough! He needed to know you wouldn’t get put in a situation like this again. He threw his head back, “You’re lucky I’m around to keep you out of trouble.”

There was a small silence as you stared down at your lap, “I am.” You agreed, his cheeks tinted red at your response.

“Ok! Enough of that mushy shit! You look starving, come on let's go get some food. My treat.” He jumped up and you followed a frantic look in your eyes as you were about to argue that he didn’t need to do that but he stopped you before you could by placing a hand over your mouth. He expected you would have this reaction.

“No, shut up, just let me do this for you. I still owe you for when you bought me lunch last week!"

You bit your lip as you took his hand into yours and lowered it from your face, neither one of you pulled away. "That just sounds like an excuse to take me out."

To your surprise he leaned down to be level with your face. He smirked as his eyes burned into yours. "Maybe you're not such a dumbass after all. It is an excuse, I'm taking you on a date."

You gulped. You were thankful you were holding onto his hand because your knees suddenly felt weak as his breath hit your cheek. "Then I guess I can't turn it down." You smiled and he squeezed your hand. "Let's go.”

Bonus:

You sat in his car, driving around the city as you tried to find a good place to have dinner.

“So what are you thinking?” He looked over to you with a playful glint in his eyes. “How about The Steamed Bean?”

You let out a loud groan and sunk into the seat at the jab to your pride. “You’re the worst date ever!"

He chuckled at your reaction, "We'll see if you still feel that way when the nights over~"

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

y’know the wildest thing still to happen to me on this hellsite was my first experience of sexting, sans nudes, that was done in front of at least 250-500 followers because of those horny anons i had in early 2013 when i was 17. instead of being exposed to it on my phone privately with a partner at that age, it was done publicly for the internet to see lmao. i remember begging the anons to stop and “come off anon” because i was “losing followers” at the time too bc i was so insecure about my follower count lmao. and then yeah when they came off anon they were both 28 years old.

to write the responses, i just consulted cosmo mag sex pages for ideas hoping that the anons would like the options i chose. in one i detailed doing anal- a sex act i hadn’t even done yet irl- let alone every other thing i suggested in them (head, idek long, drawn out foreplay, some stupid fancy sex moves that cosmo was all like “use these moves to spice up your sex life 🔥🔥”, sex in a bath, i’m pretty sure i had some lines about tying or handcuffing them to a bed (????) etc etc etc)….

when again, i had never even done any of those above sex acts in real life. i was a naive teen who was incredibly shy in regards towards her love life because she’d “never been kissed” and had never had the “hot emo boyfriend whose in a band and is covered in tattoos” she’d always wanted, let alone even a boyfriend that she had actually fucking liked (ie clear braces boy, for like a month in year 9/2010 vs the popular boys that made fun of her, that she always had unrequited crushes on)…. hell, my blog title when i first started on here in 2011 was “the perfect epitome of being forever alone” because of these very reasons. but here she was, writing explicit sex acts to strangers like she knew what the fuck she was doing, to an audience of 250-500 people- and then to fucking grown ass men in inboxes. i was just parroting the shit i’d read in cosmo (both sex advice and sometimes excerpts of erotica/“sexy, steamy reads” they had some months) and also heard repeatedly in the porn that my high school stalker/creeper at public school loved to show (harass) me with to flirt with me, whenever we were alone together at school in 2012/2013.

like you could tell how naive i was….. because i used ridiculous lines like “like a gentleman entranced, you lead me to the bath for our next foray” and dumbass prose-y things like that. because what the fuck does that even mean 😂😅????

and this is why i think minors should be careful with their online experiences. like yeah, you could say that i wasn’t a minor anymore- more of a “young adult”- who should of made the smart decision to not engage with these anons. but i was a kid. i thought it was fun. and when the dudes came off anon, i thought to myself “it’s not like i’m ever gonna meet them if i ever go to the US or puerto rico at any point. it’s not like that they’ll ever recognise me in person or ever reach out to me again in the future. i might as well do it.” and i did eventually end up ignoring the guys in my inbox, due to my mental health kinda plummeting from the middle til the end of 2013 because of my end of high school exams and stuff… and also the puerto rican guy’s infamously inappropriate “hot PE teacher fucks HOT female high school student in the girls change room showers” fantasy which fucking disgusted me, when he full well knew that i was STILL IN high school.

and obviously again, there’s the point about using the “block” button function. but as i’ve stated several times over my years on here, back in my early days of tumblr, i never wanted to block or unfollow people (even if they were trash like these two men), because it seemed so “mean” and “final”. obvs now i have no qualms about blocking people, and actively encourage younger people on here to use the block button with reckless abandon towards creepy people or people who can hurt them in some way. but to high school teenage me, the whole “using the block button” thing seemed to go against me being a “nice girl/person” so i never used it, no matter which social media platform i was on.

this is why i’m hella scared for young teen girls on tik tok wanting to have onlyfans accounts: because it’s where they’ll be exposed to ACTUAL CREEPS AND PREDATORS incredibly quickly; all because they can make money off selling images of just their feet or eventually their body….. depending on what these creepy strangers demand from them….. and they’ll feel like they’ll have to do it…. but to do it before you even start experimenting properly with relationships and sex is even worse. like. yeah. i’ve admitted before that i originally started this tumblr to possibly post nudes, to see if i’d get the positive feedback that i so desperately wanted/craved from the boys in my year at catholic school- eg. to be called “sexy”, “hot”, “fuckable” possibly “beautiful”- like some of the so called “popular girls” got on their hella basic bikini photos back then (like i remember one girl i knew ended up with like 500 likes and a fair amount of comments on one of her bikini pics and i was INCREDIBLY BITTER because not even a pic of me with a nice outfit on, my hair done and makeup on could EVER get those numbers, let alone even break over the double digits).

but i decided posting nudes or other explicit images on here was an absolute no go, because i realised that i never wanted people that i knew digging up barely clothed/naked pics of me and sending them to me all like “hey, is this you?” and then possibly mocking me, all because i would’ve been dumb enough to put my face in them probably at the time. now when i take nudes and send them, i never show my face. because i know now, that even in relationships, your partner can use nude pics as leverage for arguments or to abuse you in such a way that they’ll upload your pics without your knowledge to god knows where on the internet probably as a way to get back at you in a horrible breakup.

this is what i sincerely hope some young girls who ever contemplate starting onlyfans accounts take some time SERIOUSLY CONSIDER. please know that if you share shit on onlyfans, it can shared and re-shared (i think idek how OF works tbh) to god knows who- and eventually end up in the hands of people you know. i don’t fucking care if it’s a “good way to make money!” or if people think that im trying to stop teen girls from being “girl bosses” and the other dumb as fuck internet memes you want to throw at me. because this shit isn’t “haha internet meme funny” material. it’s some fucking serious stuff. and also, i’m not saying “don’t become a sex worker when you’re older” or whatever either. you’re free to make that choice when you’re in your 20s (no i even mean 17-19 year olds in this post as “young teen girls”- sorry you’re basically kids to me at almost 26). just please consider where the fuck your stuff can be shared to. who it can end up being shared with or to.

this is why i was so fucking adamant with my infamous old follower mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF that i personally would NOT consider becoming a camgirl for him or just generally… because i had no idea where the fuck my images or videos would end up. and do you know the places i’d never want them to fucking be??? in the hands of my high school stalker/creeper. in the hands of those two 28yo men from 2013 (who’d now be in there late 30s or early 40s). i absolutely don’t want them in the hands the mid-to-late 20s and early 30s men that that girl i met at public school in 2012 who was pissed that i didn’t believe that were “adults” because we were finally over the legal age of consent (16) in our state of australia, and so we were apparently fine to “fuck” literal grown ass men because “just fuck them and they’ll be nice to you!!” which i knew was fucking bullshit.

i absolutely don’t fucking want explicit videos/images of me ending up in “why the fuck won’t you let me give you “sex lessons” in the back of my car as a “favour” and as payment for teaching you how to drive you stupid, stuck up & frigid, virgin bitch!?” guy’s hands from 2014 (when i was 18/19 at the time and he was 25… he ended up being the first person of many i’d EVER block on social media lol). or i don't want them in the hands of those weird early 20s dudes (one of which was trying to set me up with his friend) who hit on me at 16/17 (2012) who were angry that i didn’t like and watch porn as much as they did…. and who promptly asked me at the end of their period of harassing of me: “do you know any sluts we could add?” because i kept refusing their suggestions etc.

hell, quite frankly i don’t even want them to go to mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF either, but the very few and far between nudes that i sent on snapchat to him back in 2016 are some nudes that i’d rather forget lmao. hell. i don’t even know if MAF ever deleted my nudes or shared them somewhere else or not, after he fucking wheedled them out of me with “i’ve followed you for 4 years, don’t be a shit! you owe me nudes!” so he’d just shut the fuck up about my social life decisions and leave me the fuck alone.

i don’t want ANY ONE of the guys i mentioned above to get their hands on photos of minors either…. because i definitely know my hs stalker/creeper would… because his fave “make her jealous” tactic that he’s always used on me is that “hey…. i’m dating a *insert teenage girl’s age here*! be fucking jealous that you don’t fucking have me and feel guilty that you won’t fuck me like this girl does!!!” just like he did in 2015, when i ran into him on the home from uni… when i turned 20 the next week and he turned 20 that december. at that time it was a 14yo girl he used as an example of him “dating”/“fucking” to make me jealous. instead, i was completely and utterly fucking disgusted. like any fucking sane and normal human being would/should be at that horrible age gap. that is literally a fucking child that he was fucking grooming. and we were literal adults. back the fuck away.

just please. PLEASE CONSIDER the types of people that trawl these kinds of sites and their intentions. please consider that you are young. very fucking young. you literally DO NOT need to upload nudes to the internet because it’s apparently a “lucrative” business. fuck the jokey “boss babe” rhetoric around it all the way to fucking hell.

because if you’re a minor: i do not want you to have your first experience of sexting or sending explicit images literally in front of god knows how many total strangers for the whole world to see (okay i know only fans is like subscriber/follower based or whatever. but i don’t care)…… even when you (depending how good you are with relationships etc) haven’t reached the common supposed milestones of your “first boyfriend/girlfriend/partner” or “first kiss” or have even “lost your virginity” (which isn’t real anyway- don’t buy this fucking bullshit)…. just like i stupidly did with my exposure to sexting here on my tumblr back in 2013. these people don’t/won’t give a flying fuck about your privacy or safety. they don’t/won’t give a fuck about your boundaries either.

please don’t possibly scar yourself for life, just because you’re being told that it’s a quick & convenient way to make some money for weirdos on the depths of the internet. you will regret it in future. just like i do now with mine. it should’ve been something personal between me and and a guy i trusted and liked at the time. not to some random 250-500 random strangers on this hellsite (okay the notes on these posts were literally single digits or non-existent, but still… and also some of my irl friends who had tumblr saw these posts as well) for a show….. and then privately with two 28yo literal grown ass men…. who should’ve been fucking hitting on women their own goddamned age and in their own countries and NOT a 17yo high school KID (at the time) from australia; who, now in her 20s, needs therapy to sort this shit out lmao. mind you they both reeled me in with the “you’re so mature for your age” bullshit line…. which i fell for a little bit, even if it did make me feel kinda gross at the time, too. don’t fall for that bullshit either.

[storiesnobodyreads]

ENDLESSLY INFURIATED [1]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Story: You hate Bucky Barnes more than anything and are not shy to let everyone know about this. Will things change when Steve convinces you to join him on a fancy night out?

There were not many things that endlessly infuriated you. Bucky Barnes, however, was definitely one of those things. His brooding, quiet self frustrated you to no end, and there was no clear explanation for this, not even to you. He had technically never done anything wrong. Always a gentleman, always polite, always oh-so-willing to sacrifice himself for his friends. Sometimes it seemed that Barnes had decided that he wasn’t supposed to be alive at this point anyway so he might as well rescue others no matter the cost.

“Want some coffee?” Barnes asked when you trudged into the kitchen of the Stark Tower early in the morning.

Unfortunately, Barnes was always the first one up and ready, so whenever you felt motivated to go for a run or workout early in the morning, this good motivation was instantly killed off by Barnes’ presence. “Ugh, no, fuck off,” you groaned.

“Good morning to you too,” said Barnes without a care, pouring some coffee into one cup for himself.

You rolled your eyes, fetching some cereal and milk and thudding down on a high chair at the bar. To your absolute dismay, Barnes joined you at the bar. You stared at him. “What the fuck?”

Barnes raised his eyebrows at you. “Didn’t realize you own this place. Last time I checked I’m free to sit wherever I want.”

You put up your ultimate bitch face. “Fine, dickwad. Just don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me.”

For some reason, it pissed you off possibly even more that Barnes never seemed to care about your blatant verbal aggression toward him. He simply slightly shook his head and took a sip of hot steaming coffee, which admittedly smelled really good. He twirled his cup in his hands, looking relaxed in his grey sweatpants and over-sized white sweater.

Cute, you thought quickly, but you soon pushed that thought very far back in your mind. You finished your breakfast as fast as you could, in absolute silence. Barnes didn’t look at you once nor did he seem to feel the need to start a conversation. In a sense that you despised, breakfast was actually quite peaceful like this. When you were done, you got up to place your used stuff in the dishwasher. 

“I can clean up,” Barnes offered, “so you can go on your run.”

You narrowed your eyes and stared at the man with as much hatred as you could gather, violently placing your bowl in the dishwasher and practically throwing the spoon in its holder. Without saying another word, you marched out of the kitchen, where you bounced into Tony. “Oh, good morning, Tony!” you said cheerfully, pressing a kiss on the man’s cheek. 

“Mornin’, lovely,” was Tony’s response. He was wiping some sleep out of his eyes, clearly having had a long night. You didn’t quite know what project he was currently working on, but it was fair to say it was robbing him of his sleep. “You’re up early,” he commented.  

You nodded, ponytail swinging. “Felt good today. Am going for a run.”

“Alright, love. Have fun.” 

“Thanks, thanks. Maybe after I could help you with your project, if you got anything to do for me?”

Tony scratched the scruff on his chin, suppressing a yawn. “Yeah, I might have some things for you to look at later. Thanks for offering. Now go run, kid.” You grinned when he sent a wink in your direction. 

Barnes spoke up from the bar, “Have fun, Y/N.”

In reaction to him, you simply raised your middle finger and strolled out of sight. 

Running had always simultaneously been your most favorite and least favorite activity. You loathed it because it was often boring, leaving you alone with your thoughts which soon turned into a mentally challenging exercise. You loved it because whenever you felt anxious, you could just run as fast as your legs could carry you and sweat all the anxiety out. Sam’s explanation for this had been that when humans get stressed, their fight or flight reaction gets triggered, because in the good old days stressors were things like wolves. After being confronted with the wolf, you would either be safe or dead, but not anxious. With the stressors of the current society, you can’t run away or fight, leaving you with an uneasy feeling. But running, sometimes, helped you get rid of that feeling.

On top of that, it was a wonderful morning. Not too hot, not too cold, not a cloud to be spotted in the bright blue sky. The nice smell of fresh bread oozing from the bakeries as birds awoke and fluttered through the air. Despite having had breakfast with Barnes, it was a good morning. And it felt like today might be a good day. 

You returned to the Stark Tower an hour or so later, when you presumed most of the Avengers had woken up. You happily greeted Elena the receptionist and said hello to some of the security guards, waving cheerfully at James from Human Resources through the glass walls of his department. After a quick stop to send your best wishes at the Youth Centers Tony had set up for children and teenagers in need of books or an internet connection or any form of help, you made your way up to the Avengers headquarters. 

Needless to say, you were relieved to find Barnes’ seat empty. 

“Y/N!” you were welcomed enthusiastically by Steve, who waved you over to the couch in the living room. All the glass walls, which according to Tony emphasized openness and honesty among the Avengers, made it easy to see whenever someone entered. You made your way over to Steve, moving past Wanda who used some of her red flaring magic to pull you closer to her so she could plant a kiss on the top of your head. Wanda spent most of her time using her magic to fly around the kitchen and living room, simply to annoy the other Avengers that they couldn’t fly. Thor had once started the argument that he could, in fact, fly, but when Wanda had dared to do so without the help of his hammer, his big mouth soon vanished. 

Having arrived at the couch, you let yourself fall down, sprawling your legs over Steve’s lap and letting your head rest on Sam’s knees. “What’s up, losers?” you smiled. 

“Ew, you stink,” Sam coughed exaggeratedly. He faked trying to push you away from him. “Take a shower before you come poison us!” 

“Steve asked me to come here!” you argued. 

Steve grinned and patted your shins. “That was before I realized what a sweaty human being you were. Disgusting, Y/N, really—anyway, the reason I asked you over here is because I kind of need you to do me a favor.”

You instantly became suspicious. “Oh no. What?”

“Well, remember that nice new girl that is working for James in Human Resources now?” Steve started with a nervous laugh. 

You shot up straight and gently hit Steve against his chest. “You didn’t!” 

Steve was laughing, “I did, I did. I asked her out on a date. We’re going out tonight.” 

“No way!” you exclaimed excitedly, throwing yourself at the man to hug him. “I’m so happy for you! Lucie is so nice, Steve! The two of you would make such a lovely couple!” 

“Alright, calm down there,” Steve lifted you up from him, smiling widely. “Thank you very much for introducing us, though. I owe you one.” 

“This is going to be amazing, Steve, I—” you realized suddenly that Steve had started out this conversation stating that he was going to ask for a favor. “Right. I’m very happy for you, but what do you want from me then?”

“Well,” Steve cleared his throat. “When I was asking Lucie out for a date tonight, I might have accidentally, you know, in the heat of the moment, I was very nervous, I might have said that it was going to be a double date... Um, to make it less awkward.” 

You stared at him. “To make it less awkward? To make it less awkward you thought it’d be a good idea to invite me?”

Steve put up a broad smile. “Yes?”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it into Captain America’s stupid face. “WHY?” you exclaimed incredulously. 

“Because she knows you and she likes you!” Steve defended himself, raising his arms to stop to downfall of more pillows on top of his head. “And somewhere in my rambling I thought it was easier to a group activity than it just being the two of us--”

You emphasized every word with a hit, “you – are – so – dumb!” 

“That’s not even all I— damn,” Steve laughed, fighting back to steal the last pillow away from you. He put up his puppy eyes. “Please tell me you’ll come with me. Please. I really like Lucie and I need your help.” 

Raising one brow, you marvelled at how Steve was usually such a strategic leader out in the field and yet here he had turned into a begging boy, nervous because he liked a girl. You shortly remembered how Steve hadn’t always been this good-looking and still had a sense of insecurity when it came to his looks and getting girls. “My god. Okay. But that means you owe me twice, Steve.” 

Steve attacked you with a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

“Gosh,” you tapped out on Steve’s back, unable to breathe with him on top of you. When he let you go, he looked so relieved you decided it might actually be worth it to help him out this way. “Right then. Where do I have to be?”

“Down at the reception, at 7? I’ll choose the restaurant and everything. It’s going to be fancy. That’s a warning.” 

You glared. “Why do you say that like I am incapable of looking fancy?”

Behind you, Sam barked out a laugh. “Because, sweetheart, you are absolutely gorgeous, but it is an odd day to see you wear anything other than gym clothes. Look at what you’re wearing right now.” 

You scoffed indignantly. “I just came back from a run!” 

Sam and Steve continued teasing you and making you laugh until you decided that it presumably was time to go for a shower. After cleaning yourself up you stepped into an old pair of jeans and shirt to join Tony in the basement to see if you could help the exhausted man out. 

You found Tony lying beneath an old car, sparks flying out of underneath the vehicle as machines were whirring loudly. You kicked Tony’s feet. “Oi!”

The man startled and bumped his head against the car. “Jesus!” he cursed, before rolling from underneath the vehicle to face you. “For fuck’s sake, can you make an entrance like a normal human being for a change?”

“Not really,” you smiled while fetching an iced pack from the fridge and tossing it in Tony’s direction. “You know me. Such a diva. Always the centre of attention.”

Tony grumbled some inaudible cursing words as he pressed the iced pack onto his forehead. “Not a bigger diva than me, you’re not. You’re too comfortable is what I’ll give you. You feel like you can be your most annoying self with the Avengers.”

You raised one eyebrow. “And can I?”

Tony shrugged. In a short burst of honesty, he said: “Of course. We all love you. Would be lost without you.” With similar ease, he barked at you: “Now will you help me out and fuck off out of my sight?” He proceeded to explain what you could do in order to help out with a small piece of his project. You were no expert in engineering like Tony, but he had taught you a fair amount over the years. Even though you weren’t gifted like Peter, you were a fast learner and possessed the power of common knowledge and google. 

Peter wasn’t present in Tony’s basement that morning, even though it was generally his favourite place to be. Tony didn’t tolerate many people in his basement, as his usual working vibes included loud AC/DC music, an excessive amount of coffee, red bull and alcohol, and as few living things to bother him as possible. You and Peter were the only Avengers that were allowed to come and go as you pleased. 

As soon as Tony had finished his instructions, he turned up the volume of his music and vanished back underneath his car. 

You twirled some tools in your hand and made your way to the back of the basement, where you wouldn’t be in Tony’s line of sight. As you moved around a high stack of apparatus to reach a free desk, you found the one person sitting there that you didn’t want to see. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?” you called out. 

Barnes didn’t even look up. Massive noise-cancelling headphones rested atop his head, seemingly so to avoid going insane thanks to an overload of AC/DC. He was wearing a simple white shirt; his back somewhat sweaty and muscles tensed as he tinkered on the machinery before him. His black hair was bundled up in a small knot in his neck. His metal arm operated smoothly, all his movements perfectly under control. 

You gawked at the man for a while. Probably a little longer than was socially acceptable. Likely a lot longer than was socially acceptable. 

There were many negative things you thought about Bucky Barnes, but you couldn’t fault him on his looks. The man was extremely good-looking and fit, and no one could deny that. 

But then you remembered his personality and instantly felt annoyance bubbling up in your chest. God, he was infuriating. You picked up some nails from a desk and tossed them softly against Barnes’ back to catch his attention. 

The man shot up straight, struggling his headphones from his head and face up to you. The temporary panic flaring in his blue eyes, the way his hands clenched to fists... Then he recognized who you were and his posture relaxed, the fear flying out of his expression. 

He breathed out. “Hey.”

Suddenly you were very aware of how you were looking. Messy bun on the top of your head, over-sized sweater that did not accentuate your shape, and small jogging pants that barely covered your butt. Compared to how good Bares was looking while engineering, you felt kind of insignificant. 

But Barnes didn’t look at you like you were insignificant. There was a sparkle in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. “You...” he seemed to have lost his tongue. “Um, you look...”

You pushed your insecurity away and felt rather annoyed with yourself that you allowed this man to throw you off guard. “I look what?”

“Good,” Barnes blurted out. “You look... You look good.” 

Staring at him, you squinted. You were feeling all kinds of feelings, which infuriated you, and you reacted to Barnes the way you wanted to react to your feelings. “Fuck off. What are you doing here anyway?” 

Barnes was blinking. “Oh, um, my arm has been malfunctioning a little lately. Stark wanted to fix it for me, but I figured it was about time to learn how to do it myself. So that’s what I’ve been trying to do.” 

“Can you do it somewhere else?” you demanded rudely. 

“Not really,” Barnes replied, unphased. “I think I need this...” He gestured toward the fiery machinery he had been working with. He proceeded to vaguely repeat the instructions Tony had given him to create a tiny chip that would solve the issues of his metal arm. Within about two seconds of hearing Barnes speak about his unfortunate invention, you realized that he had no idea what he was talking about. 

You sighed tiredly. “You are the dumbest person I have ever met. I can’t even. Move out the way. I’ll do it.” 

Barnes opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but you pushed him out of the way before he could make a noise. Remembering that Barnes had started out willing to do this on his own, you started explaining every little thing you did, including your entire thought process. Barnes listened intently to every word you said, letting out small ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s when he noted where he had gone wrong. It took hours and hours to finish Barnes’ issue, but both of you were patient and focused and time flew as you worked together. As soon as Barnes got the hang of it, you trusted him with the slightly smaller tasks as you multi-tasked and worked on Tony’s project as well. Tony showed up with sandwiches for the three of you at a certain point of time before vanishing under his car again. Barnes set you cups of coffee so that the two of you could continue tinkering with focus.

When Barnes’ new arm was completely finished, you helped attach the thing to his shoulder. He looked extremely uneasy but didn’t let out a single noise of complaint. Once it stuck, he closed his eyes to concentrate and got his fingers to move, explaining it was always a little weird to have this extension of his body. He commented it felt like a good arm, though, and within minutes he was using it as if he had used it his whole life. Somewhat exhausted, the two of you ended up sitting next to each other with your feet up the desk, silent and staring at Barnes’ old arm. It was quite peaceful. A satisfying silence, somehow.

“Alright.” You placed your hands flat on the table and got up. Barnes’ gaze followed your every move. “I’m done,” you grunted, wiping some concentration sweat from your forehead. “Can’t believe I spent so much time on your dumb ass.”

Barnes leaned back in his chair with a smile, studying you as you shook your hair out. His hands were folded in his lap. “Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I know,” you confirmed with a nod. “You couldn’t have. And that’s because you grew up without having electricity. And you’re old.”

Barnes’ face cracked open in a wide grin. “Can’t argue with that. You’re a lot smarter than me anyway, even if I had been born in the same time as you.”

You narrowed your eyes, not trusting these compliments. How was Barnes still nice to you after all the shit you gave him? “Absolutely.”

The man continued smiling, looking straight at you, happy. You didn’t know what to do with yourself or where to hold your hands, his warmth radiating. You cleared your throat. “What time is it anyway?”

Barnes checked his watch. “Eleven past six.”

You blinked. “In the evening?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit,” you cursed, remembering your promise to Steve to join him for a dinner to make his date with his crush Lucie less awkward, “I have a thing. I have to go.”

Barnes moved up from his chair. “Yeah, Y/N, I think—”

“For fuck’s sake, why did I spend so much time with your today?” you busted out, rapidly gathering your things. “Glad I really have to go so I don’t have to waste another minute with you. Have a horrible evening, Barnes!”

“Y/N—” Bucky tried to say, but before he could finish his sentence, you ran out of Tony’s lab. You checked your outfit and realized you were still in short jogging pants and a large sweater—after Sam’s comment of you never looking fancy, you could impossibly show up to the dinner dressed like this. You wanted to prove Sam and Steve wrong and dress up like how you had never dressed up before. And there were two people you knew to be perfect for this job. Therefore, as you were running through the Stark Tower, you texted your two best friends with a code red. And when you finally made it to your own room, you expected nothing less than to find Nat and Wanda waiting impatiently for you on your bed.

Wanda leaped up, looking worried. “What is code red?”

You let all your engineering stuff fall on the floor. “I’m going out for dinner tonight at 7. It’s supposed to be fancy.”

Both Wanda and Nat’s facial expression went from indignance that you were not dying, to absolute excitement. “Does this mean what I think it means?” Nat breathed out. “Are you going to let us dress you up?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes. Don’t be too girly about it.”

But both Wanda and Nat were already squealing like the girliest girls in the world, more than exhilarated that they got to have their girly moments in their lives filled with heavy tasks of being an Avenger. “I’m getting my stuff!” Wanda squeaked, vanishing from the room with a red flash. Nat threw her hands up in the air. “Dresses!” she yelled, and ran out of the room as well. Both of them returned within no time, arms filled with make-up and clothes and a bunch of stuff floating behind them thanks to Wanda’s red magic. “I just realized we only have half an hour!” Wanda was screaming. Nat pushed you, “Wash yourself! Hurry!”

They granted you one minute of showering before pulling you out, throwing a sexy pair of lingerie to you (“You never know where the night goes!”) and then setting you on the bed. Nat held up several outfits for you to judge while Wanda got to work on your make-up and did your hair. Nat selected a little red dress for you that wouldn’t be too revealing. When you put it on, it hugged the curves of your body nicely and made you look way hotter than you thought you actually were. Wanda had finished your face, hair and eyes, with only lips to go, when Nat started yelling: “It’s seven o’clock!”. “LIPSTICK!” Wanda shouted back, which resulted in Nat tossing a deep dark-red lipstick at Wanda and her smearing it somehow perfectly on your lips. They rushed you up in front of the mirror. You were absolutely confused, having gone through the most stressful getting-ready process ever. But when you looked into the mirror, your jaw dropped.

“I look fucking stunning, babes.”

Wanda and Nat cheered. “Yes, you do!”

They showered you with compliments as they led you downstairs to the reception, moving slowly on your heels, despite the time being way past seven. You felt powerful and beautiful, ready to confuse the hell out of Steve and make it a wonderful, hopefully not-so-awkward night. Strolling down the last set of stairs, you spotted Lucie and Steve standing arm in arm. Lucie was wearing an extremely cute, long, dark-blue dress while Steve was dressed up in suit and tie. Once Steve’s eyes fell on you, he choked on his own saliva and his eyes popped out of his skull. “Hot damn, girl!” he called out.

You laughed, throwing your hair back in your neck. “Who says I can’t look fancy, eh?” Wanda and Nat had left you to get to the reception on your own, though you could still hear them whooping and whispering compliments behind you. You cut around the corner, finally having arrived at the reception of the Stark Tower, perhaps a little past seven, but fully dressed in a fancy outfit. And then you saw that it wasn’t just Steve that had dressed up in suit and tie.

Bucky Barnes was dressed up as well, looking immaculate. His face clean, beard and hair well groomed, smelling fresh and sweet, in a pristine suit that made him look even more handsome than usual.

It was the second time today you found him in a place where he wasn’t supposed to be. It was also the second time today you stood gawking at how gorgeous this man was.

Barnes was looking at you with his eyes wide, a flicker shining that you couldn’t quite explain. His lips parted as he looked over your appearance, but he couldn’t quite seem to find his tongue.

Your cocky expression had faded, but you did find your tongue. “The fuck are you doing here?”

Steve immediately came in between the two of you. “It’s a double date, Y/N. I told you this, right?”

You tore your eyes away from Barnes to stare furiously at Steve. “You most certainly did not, Rogers.”

“Well, it is,” Steve forced a smile. He proceeded to wrap his arm around Lucie, who stood nervously eying the situation. “And we are very excited to go on the double date, aren’t we, Lucie?”

Lucie nodded, eyes big. “Yes. You, um, look really beautiful, Y/N.”

Lucie was so very obviously shitting herself that you felt bad for her. You sighed. It mustn’t be an easy position for her, ending up going on a double date with three well-known Avengers. Even though you talked to her all the time and you would consider yourselves somewhat friends, at the very least good acquaintances, it made sense she was still nervous. Were you really going to make this even more nerve-wrecking and miserable for her? Were you that much of a bitch, that just to get across your hatred for Barnes, you would ruin the night from Lucie and Steve?

You took a deep breath. “You look beautiful as well, Lucie.” You eyed Barnes, realizing you were now officially on a date with him. “Let’s go.”

[lovelyirony]

“Did you just hit me? With a pillow? Oh. It’s on now.” for Sam and Bucky aka the weiner club

Sam has seen some questions floating around on the internet about the worst thing that came out of World War II. He has a lot of answers. 

But he thinks he has the final answer as to the worst thing that came out of World War II: 

James Buchanan Barnes. 

What a dumbass. 

For one thing, absolutely wrecked his credit score when he ripped his steering wheel right out of his car. It was a new car too, just gotten and Sam had gotten a fancy car-freshener, not one of the trees that was labeled Black Ice. You know, the scent that every guy-in-his-twenties had. No, he was getting fancy in life. Upgrading, as it were. 

And then this absolute goddamn travesty of a human being with a metal arm that was more indestructible than that one spoon that keeps getting stuck in the garbage disposal and somehow makes it out. 

Steve brings him back. And now Bucky--which is a very stupid name--is currently stealing all of Sam’s fancy oatmeal and he knows he’s doing it. 

Bucky is having a lot of fun at Sam’s expense, and Sam can’t say shit about it because Bucky goes “oh boo I’m a traumatized war veteran who had to go to Russia for like fifty years. Let me eat your oatmeal you stupid bitch” and Sam has to let him. 

So Sam decides that he will just refuse to ever interact with Bucky on any level except Enemy. 

Sharon tells him he’s being a tad dramatic. 

“That oatmeal cost me seven dollars every week and he fucking eats it.” 

“Not all of it,” Sharon says. “He’s not bad, he’s just messing with you. Steve is still treating him like he’s one of those glass figurines that Bruce collects.” 

“Bruce collects glass figurines? What?” 

“Yeah. I think he finds them in thrift shops and just collects them. I can’t decide if it’s an intimidation tactic for the Hulk or for Tony.” 

“Tony is scared of glass figurines?” 

“He’s scared of breaking stuff. Don’t ask, it involves Pepper.” 

“Oh. I think it’s weird that you know him on such a personal level.” 

“Why?” 

“I was literally just telling you the last time I went grocery shopping and you told me, and I quote, ‘stop telling me all this personal shit I have limited memory storage in my brain’.” 

“It’s because I do. I don’t give a shit about your grocery purchases unless any of it is for me.” 

“Very self-centered.” 

“Quite. But give Bucky a little leeway.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

- 

Bucky absolutely knows what he is doing. He really and truly does. He’s been texting Maria Hill about the whole thing, who finds it absolutely hilarious. 

In fact, everyone knows what he’s doing. Except for Steve, which makes it even funnier. 

Steve is under the impression that Bucky has no idea that that was Sam’s oatmeal, or Sam’s favorite coffee cup. 

He most definitely knows it. But Sam has funny reactions, and in all honesty, a lot of it isn’t that big a deal. 

And then Sam wacks him with a pillow. 

“You hit me. With a pillow.” Sam wacks him again. 

“Oh, it’s on now.” 

The Pillow Wars commence. 

There are three rules: 

1.) No headshots. Those are mean and stupid and bad. 

2.) You cannot use any of the pillows that Tony or Pepper bought. Both are incredibly enamored with their own interior design and decoration choices, and will not be messed with. It took Bucky only once to learn this. He was threatened to be launched out by an arm, and it wasn’t gonna be his left. 

3.) Steve and Bruce cannot know

This is mainly for humor purpose. Steve--maybe--would be fine with it. Bruce knows too much about how brains work and how maybe Bucky gets hit with a pillow and Something Bad happens. 

So begins the Secret War. 

Sam ditches an official interview to sneak on a plane and absolutely wreck Bucky with pillows. 

Bucky stealth attacks from ceilings. 

The most entertaining is when other people are in the room and the AI Friday informs of “Dr. Banner’s” or “Captain Rogers’s” imminent arrival. 

“Hey Steve-o,” Bucky says, just casually draping his arm over Sam’s shoulders. (And potentially maybe holding him quite tightly so as to not have him escape. He’s made the mistake before.) “What’s going on in the world with you?” 

“Nat and I are going to practice parkour,” Steve says. “You guys have gotten...closer?” 

“Yeah,” Sam says, grinning. “Best buds, us two. Peas in a pod.” 

“Or more,” Steve teases. “I’m right, right? The hugs, the way that Sam was on top of you earlier, Buck...my two friends dating?” 

They freeze. 

They can’t tell him no, because then Steve is going to know that they’ve been fighting. 

“Yes,” Bucky answers. “Sam asked me out a couple weeks ago. We’ve been trying to take it slow, but you know how modern men are. Too quick for their own damn good.” 

Sam wants to fucking murder him. 

Because this? Exactly what he wanted to avoid. 

“I hate you.” 

“Love you too. Baby.” 

“Oh, ‘baby’? That’s the one you’re going with? Listen you fucking asshole--” 

“Nope! Sorry!” 

- 

This leads to dating. And even more lying. 

Because Sam has to keep it up and pretend like he’s been sharing his oatmeal. They have to go out on actual dates because Steve “checks in” on his runs that he takes (he takes multiple because he’s insane) and they have to be in love. 

It is disgusting. 

Bucky has had to use hard-earned money to get Sam stupid shit like flowers and “just thinking of you” gifts and a birthday present. He had to spend money on a nice shirt and a cute plant that Sam will like. 

This is what changes things, by the way. 

Bucky was not supposed to be thinking about how Sam has been wanting a peppermint plant for a while, but he won’t fucking shut up about it and he won’t stop telling Bucky about all the cute pots that he wants to put it in and Bucky was not supposed to go to the nursery and go get it. 

But he did. Because Sam wouldn’t shut up and Bucky wasn’t gonna be a basic bitchy boyfriend and get him flowers and a dinner. That is for losers. Which Bucky most certainly is not. 

Sam is surprised that Bucky is listening. 

And then they realize that it’s not exactly that they’re mad that they’re dating. In fact, Sam kind of likes having a special someone to go to breakfast with, even if Bucky kind of hates the diner he keeps choosing. 

(To be fair their muffins are dry but also to be fair Bucky will simply not order an omelette, which is their best option.) 

Maybe Bucky likes remembering fun little facts about Sam, like how he hates red petunias because his old neighbor always had them everywhere, or how he secretly thought that Captain America was literally just a media project meant to consider how well propaganda worked on the American people. 

(If Bucky hadn’t remembered that Steve was literally just That Stupid, he probably would’ve agreed with that theory.) 

So now they have Stupid Feelings. This Sucks. 

Also? Sharon is laughing at Sam, because she’s a terrible gay best friend. 

“You’re gay too, so that makes us just friends. Cancels all that shit out. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re stupid and didn’t recognize that you liked him. It literally took Steve assuming you were a couple to get this whole thing rolling.” 

“Wait, so you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Sam I’m sorry you have to hear it from me, but I had a hell of a lot more faith in you than I should have. Is that a sin? That should be a sin.” 

“I will literally write you out of my will just watch me.” 

“Who else is going to take your ugly paintings, Sam? Who? Steve? He went to art school for a year. He knows quality.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Yeah, just like you hate Bucky,” Sharon says, laughing. “Have fun with that, by the way. Hope you confess your feelings soon!” 

- 

Sam is not having fun with this. No, not at all. 

It’s mostly because Bucky is still stealing his oatmeal and they’re in Public and he can’t confess his feelings. It’s just not convenient. Also Bucky is having a lot of conversation with a certain guy that Tony knows in one way or another, and they’ve hit it off. 

Steve is looking at Bucky. 

“Huh, he seems to like that guy a lot, they’ve been talking for a while. You know him, Sam?” 

“No,” Sam says. “But I’m sure everything is fine.” 

(Well everything is probably fine on Bucky’s end. Sam is trying Very Hard to not be jealous at all. People talk all the time. He’s talking to Steve right now. It doesn’t mean he’s going to do anything to Steve.) 

(It’s not working, if you wanted clarification. The whole “I’m not actually jealous” thought.) 

- 

He hits Bucky with another pillow. 

“What the hell?” Bucky mutters, flicking on the light. 

“Come to bed, asshole.” 

“I hate you,” Bucky grumbles, shrugging off his tuxedo jacket. “Let me get into my pajamas first before you start a pillow war.” 

“Surprised you came home at all. Thought you and that guy were getting awfully cozy.” 

“Ain’t my type,” Bucky answers, “and his wife wasn’t my type either.” 

“Then who is?” 

Bucky looks at him. 

“You seriously wanna know?” 

“If you’ll answer, yeah.” 

“Sam, my type is someone who is an absolute asshole who I hate a lot.” 

Sam blinks. 

“You wanna know what my type is, Barnes?” 

“Who?” 

“Someone who keeps stealing my fucking oatmeal.” 

Bucky stops and pauses. Then starts shaking with laughter. 

“We really are the worst, aren’t we?” 

“In a sense, yeah. We have an early breakfast tomorrow with Maria and Pepper, by the way. So come to bed.” 

“Yes, dear.” 

Doesn’t matter if it’s said sarcastically. Sam still likes it. 

- 

There’s a part to this story you should know: 

Steve’s absolutely not stupid about this certain situation. He knew Bucky was a little shit who kept stealing oatmeal. He also knew that Sam liked him, even if he didn’t recognize it himself. 

By him insinuating that he thought they were dating, he knew they would never crush his dreams. He’s secretly a manipulative genius like that. 

(It also helps that Maria owes him about a thousand dollars or five favors, give or take a couple.)