#live sam server

[cdroloisms]

c!sam voice buying the entire stock of possible c!dream merchandise was an absolutely imperative financial decision actually. bad guys don't deserve to have merch. it's part of the warden's burden to purge the server of dream's evil influence. yes that means purchasing all of the bobbleheads. yeah the beanie babies too. it's a sacrifice but it's his duty. i mean think of the children.

[duckmumbo]

q!tubbo for the character bingo?

q!tubbo my best worstie i want to study you under the sims 4 comically sized microscope what is your backstory i need to know stop giving me squishy feelings when you're with your daughter

character bingo ask game

[critical-skeptic]

Stop Begging, Start Thinking!

"TIP your server BIG these next few shifts, this could be their kids Christmas gifts." —Virtue Signalers

If you're struggling to the point where you're relying on tips to scrape by, maybe reevaluate your priorities before indulging in holiday consumerism. If you're financially illiterate enough to think buying unnecessary holiday trinkets is a good idea when you can barely pay rent, perhaps it's time to reconsider your life choices. You chose a tips-based job in a country that notoriously underpays service workers. If that's the case, either excel at the job to earn better tips, or better yet, stop participating in a system that exploits you and demands the rest of us subsidize it through guilt-tripping slogans like this. Get a job that pays a fair wage—or, if that's too much to ask, don't compound the problem by bringing kids into an already overpopulated and economically brutal world.

And while we're at it, let’s dismantle this asinine participation in outdated traditions, like buying your kids a mountain of Christmas crap they’ll forget about in a week. Instead, teach them the reality of life. Teach them resilience, budgeting, and the value of living within their means—lessons clearly lost on their parents. Stop perpetuating this endless cycle of irresponsible decision-making and misguided societal norms. You're not helping your kids by coddling them into thinking life is all about receiving gifts or relying on the charity of others.

We’re tired of this toxic, guilt-driven narrative that places the onus on customers to fix a system they didn’t create, while glorifying the poor decisions of individuals who refuse to adapt. If you want sympathy, show some accountability. Until then, don't expect the rest of us to pay for your poor planning or feel bad for a situation you walked straight into.

This is not a defense or apology for the vile employers who knowingly inflict undue harm on their workers or the soulless corporations that thrive on exploiting loopholes and systems designed to uphold inequity. Instead, this is a scathing indictment of all of us—for allowing ourselves to be manipulated by these entities, who tug at our emotional strings just enough to keep us bickering amongst ourselves. In doing so, we unwittingly sustain the very broken industries and sociopolitical crises from which they reap their obscene profits. Worse yet, we let them obscure the real engines driving this dysfunction: rampant overpopulation and a dangerously undereducated populace. Until we address these root causes, we’re just pawns in their cynical game, perpetuating our own misery while they laugh all the way to the bank.

Don't just demand better, be better. Don't expect your leaders to be good, be a good leader yourself—stop tipping (or begging for tips) and start thinking!

[venusheartsyou2]

can't reach you | bucky barnes

summary: rooming with bucky barnes comes with its downsides.

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: explicit. 18+ only, MDNI. afab!reader, mentions of alcohol and drinking, lowkey a little matt murdock x reader, strangers to friends to enemies to lovers (?), bucky barnes is the worst, zero communication, set pre-endgame, mentions of my goat sam wilson, fluff, barely angst, sub!bucky, dom!reader, oral (male receiving), piv sex, unsafe sex, no use of y/n.

wc: 9.8K

a/n: erm so i didn’t think this fic would be so long. got a little carried away… anyway i had a lot of fun writing this fic so i hope u enjooooyyyy!!!!

— MAY 25TH, 12AM

The city exhausted you.

It wasn’t always that way. It had been your dream to move into ‘The Big City™’ since you were a teenager. But god, you could not keep up. You were too timid for the big personalities of New York City. You stuck out like a sore thumb. There had been too many times you had apologized for simply existing around others on the subway. You were too slow and too nice. Also, one time a pigeon literally shit on your head. People tried to say it was good luck, or something, but that’s just a bunch of horse shit. Whatever, you were trying your best to get over that. Guess you haven’t been too successful.

You were trying to scrape by. You had just recently graduated from college with a bachelors in Accounting. Too bad you were nowhere near getting a job in the field, as you were currently a server at a semi-bougie restaurant down a few blocks from your apartment. Speaking of apartments, you had just gotten a text from your roommate, Bucky. He was warning you that he was going to be home late again. Not that this was different from any other night. Whatever, you guess. More time and space for you.

A loud groan exited your mouth as you finally entered your apartment. You lean against the door, hoping it won’t crumble at your weight. Not that it would, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it did. The walk from your work to your apartment had a grueling uphill that nearly killed you every time you had to walk on it. Which was quite often. You’d think you’d get used to it by now, right?

You dropped your long shoulder bag. The handle digs into your shoulder every time you use it, but it’s cute and convenient enough to keep using. You didn’t have the funds to splurge on a nicer bag. Rent ate your money like a gluttonous pig.

Turning on the TV and mindlessly tidying up was a part of your basic routine. Come home, wind down, go to bed, wake up, go to work, then repeat. Well, maybe there was some masturbation with your trusty vibrator thrown into the mix every so often. That’s no one's business though.

Hours pass, and your roommate returns back home. It might be around 2AM, but you haven’t checked in a while. You’re too busy attempting to use a spreadsheet to plan your finances for the month to hear Bucky come in. You’re attempting to be organized, but honestly, you won’t be too surprised if this spreadsheet becomes some sort of lost relic that gets abandoned in the deep trenches of your computer drive.

“You’re up late.” You hear a low voice emerge from the darkness.

“Jesus! Oh— Bucky,” You let out a deep sigh of relief, “You scared the shit out of me.”

Bucky breaking you out of your trance makes you realize just how close you’ve been staring into the bright white light of your computer screen. You blink away the dryness in your eyes. That shit hurts.

“Told you I was coming back late.” Bucky shrugged as you took off his shoes and started walking closer to you.

“Well, yeah. I know that.” You say while giving an annoyed look at Bucky. Bucky simply raises his eyebrows and gives a slight grin.

“Were you out frolicking with your boyfriend Steve? Or.. oh! Or was it Sam?” You joke. Bucky rolls his eyes, simply saying, “Yeah, sure.”

You didn’t know much about Bucky before living together. The two of you had only crossed paths after you had seen a weird Craigslist ad for a wanted roommate. The price of the room had seemed like a scam, at least compared to other prices for shared apartments in New York. The guy was hot enough for you to give him a chance, but you were definitely suspicious. There were a lot of deliberate conversations — just to make sure this guy wouldn’t kill you in your sleep — before you had signed the lease. He seemed decent and quiet enough for you to be on board.

You didn’t quite understand his job. He was an Avenger, kinda? To be frank, you didn’t care much for the Avengers. Yeah, yeah, ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ and all that, but after they had wrecked your best friend, Isabella’s, car in a battle against the gajillion-th attack against New York that month, you had grown a brewing distaste for them. Tony Stark wrote up a small check for your friend though, so maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal. It was fine that you were roomies with a somewhat Avenger. Whatever. As long as he doesn’t touch your shit, you’ll be fine.

Bucky calls your name, to which you turn over to face him rather slowly. Maybe the sleep deprivation is catching up to you. “Hm?”

“My ‘boyfriend’ Sam wanted to know more about you.” Bucky says, using air-quotes over the word boyfriend. Funny. You let Bucky have a small laugh from you. You had heard about Sam here and there, but you were still a little wary about a guy you never met asking about you. That’s usually never good news.

“Why does Sam want to know more about me?” You ask, cautious.

“I told him about you. He’s a good guy. Annoying, but good.” Bucky assures. You’d heard about Sam’s big personality. It would be refreshing to meet someone genuine, you think to yourself. The service industry has been stripping you dry of all the warmth you had left.

“I’ll be there too. Obviously.” Bucky shrugs, hoping it’ll convince you.

“No shit, Bucky,” You smile as you laugh at his attempt to bring some sort of comfort, “Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll meet your damn boyfriend.”

Bucky gives a grin before saying, “If anything— Steve would be my boyfriend.”

“Alright, smartass.” You giggle as you close your laptop, notioning that you’re going to head to bed soon.

Bucky acknowledges your body language as steps back to his own space, ready to go back to his room as well.

As you walk back to your room, Bucky shouts, “Neither of them are my boyfriends, by the way!”

“The first step is denial!” You shout back.

— MAY 26TH, 10AM

The next morning went by as it normally does. You slept a little past your alarm, as per usual. You put your alarm an hour earlier than you need to be up, to account for the time you’re going to lay in your bed, before actually getting up. You only feel a small gnawing itch in your head to hurry up and leave for work, which differs from the usual loud pounding feel of anxiety. Improvement!

You walk down the hilly route to your work. It’s nice now, but you know the inevitable uphill walk back is waiting for you. Best not to dwell. You enter your work with 10 extra minutes to spare, and you pump yourself up for doing so well today. That lasts up until after you clock in with the POS system at the hostess stand, and you realize that your waist apron that’s required for your work uniform was missing from your bag. Shit. You must’ve forgotten to put it back into your bag after doing your laundry. You’ve already asked for so many different alternate waist aprons from management already, and you didn’t want to deal with their pesky attitudes today.

It wasn’t the end of the world. But you mean, it felt like it. You remembered that Bucky said that today would be his off-day, and you frantically called him. The service was bad around your area, but after a brief waiting period, the call finally went through.

“Oh, thank God, Bucky,” You sigh, “Could you, possibly.. do the biggest favor for me ever?” You ask, the hints of desperation in your tone begging to be let out.

“You know, calling every favor the ‘biggest favor ever’ really dulls the whole meaning of it.” Bucky’s voice breaks through from the other side of the line.

“Okay, whatever. Just help me. Please.” You add, hoping it’ll get your lazy-ass roommate up and on his feet.

“Aw. Okay. Because you asked so nicely.” He replies. You roll your eyes, like he can even see you do that.

“Can you grab my waist apron from my drawer and bring it to my work?”

“Jesus. So far.”

“Bucky—” You try your best not to curse him out, “Just fucking do it.”

“Alright, alright. Easy,” He says, “I’ll bring the damn apron.”

“Thank you. Lifesaver.” You say, rubbing your forehead with your hand. Hopefully that doesn’t fuck up the foundation and contour that had been hastily applied on your forehead.

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky says, before he’s cut off by the end of the call.

Approximately 9 minutes later, Bucky pulls in front of the restaurant in his fancy little car. Show off. He turns on his hazard lights, then exits the car. He comes up to the restaurant and enters.

The hostess is already asking how many people are in his party, probably spewing words from their internal customer service script. Bucky politely cuts her off, telling them that he’s looking for you.

“Got something for a server here.” Bucky says as they show off the little stupid waist apron. The hostess asks for the name of the server, to which Bucky responds with yours. Before the hostess could call for you, you’re walking towards Bucky with a wide, semi-panicked grin. 

“Lifesaver.” You say, as you give Bucky a hug. Bucky feels the urge to pull back, but eventually gives in.

“Not as big a deal as you made it seem.” Bucky smirks as he hands you the waist apron.

“Everything’s always a big deal.” You brush off as slowly inch back closer to the server station.

“Whatever. Well, okay. Remember, we’re meeting Sam at 6PM, yeah?”

“Pick me up?” You try to score a car ride back home. Bucky laughs. “Sure.”

You fist pump discreetly, but Bucky’s able to catch it. 

“At least try to contain your excitement.” Bucky says, dryly.

“Okay, whatever— See you at 6PM!” You whisper out to Bucky, as you gently push him out of the restaurant, trying to not make the customers in the store notice the exchange between you two.

“See you at 6.” Bucky scoffs lightheartedly. He leaves in his car.

As you walk back to the server station to prepare utensils for incoming customers, your work friend, Zara, inches closer to you. “Who’s the guy?”

“My roommate.” You reply, simply.

“You two dating.. Or what?” Zara asks, looking giddy.

“God, no.” You laugh off her assumption.

“And you not gonna hit that?” Zara asks, looking for permission.

“He’s all yours.” You look at your friend, looking wide-eyed at the boldness of it all.

There’s some more exclamations of attraction from your co-worker. A flurry of ‘girrrllll…’s’ from you follows suit. You mean, if they wanted to, you’re not gonna cock-block. It’s just funny to think about, is all. You promise Zara that you’ll introduce the two of them and you even hand Zara Bucky’s number, as you know his ass isn’t on any social media platforms. Maybe Bucky can finally get some.

— MAY 26TH, 5PM

The smell of garlic on your clothes invaded your poor nostrils. Bucky pulled up at the front of the restaurant, to your relief. Not that Bucky would forget, as you were blowing up his phone around 4:30PM reminding him that he said he’d get you.

As you enter the car, Bucky grimaces at the smell of your work clothes. “You smell like garlic.”

“Shut up. I know, I know.” You say, your head resting against your hand, with your elbow resting on the closed window. Bucky just smirks as he heads back home.

Getting ready to meet Sam was a chaotic speed-run. A rushed shower, a rushed decision of what clothes to wear, and a rushed make-up job. At least you looked presentable. Whatever. Sam isn’t the Queen. Or maybe he is. Anyways, this’ll do.

Central Park smelled better than it did in your hometown. Well, at this time of year, those fishy-ass Bradford Pear trees are usually out and about in your hometown. You traded fishy-smelling trees for awful, warm NYC sewer odor. Sometimes you think you could go back. Until you go back to visit home. The trees smell pretty bad.

Sam was waiting on a simple blanket in the field. How cute, a picnic. You’re glad the three of you guys weren’t going out to eat somewhere. Not a lot of leisure money on you right now. Sam had a spread of assorted snacks for the two of you. How thoughtful of him.

Sam shouts out you and Bucky’s name when he sees the two of you walk closer. “My favorite roommate duo!”

You grin at Sam’s kind energy. “You must not know a lot of roommate duos, then.” You say, as you roll the handle of your bag off your shoulder and lay it on the ground. Bucky grins and rolls his eyes in response. The two of you sit and join Sam. You greet Sam, and he offers a hug, to which you accept after a hint of hesitation.

“Bucky mentions you a lot.” Sam says.

“Does he now?” You ask, your eyebrows raised at Bucky. Bucky looks at Sam, his eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused and a little angry.

“No, he doesn’t. I just wanted to fuck with him.” Sam admits, after no confrontation. It earns an honest laugh from you, and earns an annoyed glare from Bucky.

“A shame then. I’d like to think I’m a good roommate.” You shrug.

“You are.” Bucky assures, rubbing his forehead with his hands.

“He mentions you a little bit.“ Sam leans in and whispers to you, playing it off cool. Of course, Bucky could hear him. He decides to let Sam get away with his shit for today.

You and Sam hit it off immediately. His genuine personality was refreshing. The dynamic you find yourself with you, Sam, and Bucky makes you laugh. You and Sam jokingly throw digs at Bucky, to which he promptly shoots down each dig. Bucky doesn’t stop you guys from making each joke. He’s probably used to Sam’s bullshit anyway. At least that’s what you assume.

“Where’s Steve?” You ask, “I hear a lot about him.” You say, telling the truth.

“He’s busy.” Bucky replies, simply.

“He’s always busy. Doing whatever diplomatic bullshit he’s always doing,” Sam elaborates. “You know, being an actual Avenger— and shit.”

“Right, course.” You say, as if it was common knowledge.

“You don’t gotta worry about that guy. He’ll meet you eventually.” Sam guarantees.

You cock your head slightly to the side and purse your lips. “That’s intimidating,” You note, “That’s Captain America.”

“He’s a loser.” Sam laughs.

You sigh and shrug. “I’ll guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“What’s not to trust?” Sam shrugs as he looks at you. You and Bucky look at each other instinctively with a knowing gaze. The two of you giggle at the unexpected coordination.

“Whatever.” Sam rolls his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink.

— MAY 26TH, 10PM

After having an unexpectedly lovely night with Sam and Bucky, you and Bucky open the door back into your home.

“What’d you think of him?” Bucky asks, as the two of you wind down.

“He’s great.” You respond, earnestly. That earns a discreet smile from Bucky, but you didn’t catch it, as you were already tired and walking back to your room.

“Leaving so soon?” Bucky asks, only a tinge of disappointment staining his tone.

“Aw, you want more of me?” You tease, your smirk growing bigger on one side of your face.

Bucky scrunches his nose, instinctively. “Nevermind, just go to bed.” He grimaces.

“Wait—” You start, but Bucky walks towards you and forcefully pushes you into your room.

“Nope, lost your chance.” Bucky says, unconcerned. A little ‘aw, man’ leaves your mouth, to which Bucky grins.

“Whatever, didn’t even wanna talk to you anyway.” You lie and roll your eyes. Bucky, still grinning, places his hand on your mouth to shut you up. “Go to your damn bed.”

“Okay, whatever.” You say, your voice muffled under Bucky’s big hand. As you push Bucky out of your room, you start lifting your shirt to change. Bucky closes his eyes and turns swiftly to give you privacy.

“Night!” You shout from inside your room.

“Goodnight!” Bucky groans from his.

— JUNE 17TH, 7PM

It had been a couple weeks since you had met Sam; you were glad you had done so, since now, every time Sam would make a surprise visit to your apartment, it was a bit less awkward. You still had yet to meet Steve, but you didn’t mind as much. He was busy being Captain America. You and Bucky became closer due to Sam’s presence. You and Bucky even had plans to have a ‘girl’s night’ tonight. Sam was devastated he couldn’t come.

A while ago, during the first few months after you had moved in, Bucky had mentioned how he couldn’t get drunk. He had a heightened metabolism due to a super-soldier serum he had received while he was the Winter Soldier. You were curious, of course, but you didn’t dare to ask further about his past, as he seemed a little tense when he had explained it to you. You don’t want to pry.

Luckily, for Bucky, he had been gifted a mysterious, potent elixir from Thor. Asgardian alcohol, basically. If Bucky or Steve wanted to get drunk, they would drop a little bit of the elixir into their drinks. Works like a charm. It smells disgusting, so you wouldn’t dare to touch it. Also, you had been shown a video of the aftermath of Clint accidentally drinking one of Steve’s drinks at an Avenger’s party. Safe to say, you didn’t need to be told twice about staying away from that elixir. Not unless you plan on spending a night in the ER.

You pour your wine into a simple glass. Bucky is beside you, carefully adding a drop of Thor’s elixir into his homemade whiskey sour. Bucky is lucky that you used to be a bartender, and you have extra drink-making supplies around the house. The drink that Bucky made doesn’t look presentable at all, but whatever. There’s no one to impress around here.

The plan was: get drunk, watch a bad movie, complain about said bad movie, and go to bed hoping the hangover doesn't kill you in the morning. You had randomly picked a movie. It seemed like a romance-drama film, but you couldn’t necessarily tell from the oversaturated movie poster.

As the movie starts, you and Bucky get comfortable on your shared couch. There’s a big batch of popcorn you had begged Bucky to prep in front of you. You’re cozy underneath your fluffy blanket. You shoot out your hand, with the wine glass in it, gesturing to clink glasses with Bucky. He grins and rolls his eyes, but still clinks glasses with you.

“I hope the movie’s terrible.” You say, taking a drink from your glass.

-

After approximately an hour and a half, you were nearing the end of this god awful film. The alcohol was the only thing pulling you through.

“I mean, seriously,” you groan, “This movie has just been porn, Bucky—” You grimace.

Bucky doesn’t look too invested in the movie, as he’s too busy shoveling popcorn in his mouth. You frown and stare at the movie as you simultaneously grab popcorn to eat. 

You stare at the screen as the main character, who has been juggling between 2 guys and is pregnant by one of them (but is unsure of who is the father), goes on a long monologue about how she is choosing herself in the love triangle. Unbelievable. You laugh at its absurdity, and you turn to see Bucky rubbing his temples for comfort.

“Get a load of this fucking guy.” You mumble as you stuff more popcorn in your face. Bucky lets out an amused breath, looking at you.

The horrid movie ends, to you and Bucky’s relief. As the credits roll, you turn to Bucky, after taking another swift sip of your drink.

“So,” you start, “Debrief time.” You grin, excited to complain about something.

“Is there much to say? It was bad.” Bucky shrugs.

“That’s no fun, Bucky—” You roll your eyes, “What didn’t you like about it?”

“Main character was bad. Awful person.” Bucky says, simply. You give up asking for elaboration.

“You’re so boring. Anyway, I agree! I mean, Jesus. She was just a bad person the entire movie and then suddenly she has that stupid monologue and it’s all okay?” You start to ramble. Bucky listens intently, but only gives mundane responses. Mainly a few ‘mmhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ sprinkled throughout the conversation. You continue ranting about the movie.

“And seriously, I wouldn’t complain if Frank was my baby daddy. Better him than Jack.” You laugh, talking about the 2 main male love interests.

The words had already left your mouth before you realized that one of the main characters, Frank, looked eerily similar to Bucky. But.. that’s just a coincidence, right? Surely Bucky wouldn’t read too much into that. Of course, that’s not to say you didn’t find Bucky attractive, because you most certainly did. It would just create a weird dynamic between the two of you. Being roommates and all.

Luckily, Bucky didn't seem to catch onto your Freudian slip. He only scrunches his face and replies, “Frank’s an asshole.”

“I’m not known for attracting people that are good for me.” You reply, honestly.

“Shoot for better.”

“Moving on.” You chuckle off. Bucky simply smirks as he sips his drink.

As moments pass by, you feel the presence of the silence surrounding the two of you. You go up and turn on your semi-busted speaker that lays in the kitchen. 

“It’s so quiet in here.” You say as you pick a song to play. You play an upbeat song you haven’t been able to stop listening to recently. You might as well put Bucky on as you force him to dance.

“C’mon, Buck!” You say as you peel Bucky away from the couch. There’s some resistance from Bucky.

“No— I don’t dance.” Bucky confessed.

“You do now.” You respond, not taking no for an answer. Bucky lets out a gravelly groan. You swore that shit came from his chest. Your hands linger on Bucky’s hands as you force him to dance. Nothing crazy. Bucky’s hands feel rough and calloused. You’re sure your hands are sweaty and gross, but luckily, your buzz from the alcohol stops your mind from overthinking.

Dancing with Bucky feels good. It’s a kind break from the rest of your life. You count your blessings having a roommate that you actually enjoy being around. Even if he’s boring sometimes. Unfortunately, the next song is some sentimental, slow love song.

“Ah, let’s just skip this.” You walk towards your phone.

“Oh, now you’re the one who doesn’t dance?” Bucky teased, “C’mon, it won’t kill us.” Bucky reasons, as he stops you from leaving by holding onto your wrist. He pulls you in, and the two of you start slowly swaying together.

“You want to dance to this song?” You comment, noting that it’s out of character for him.

“Just call it practice.” Bucky shrugs, his eyes fluttering slowly. Bucky’s feet movement is a little scattered. He stumbles from time to time. Must be the Asgardian alcohol. The scent of the alcohol lingers on Bucky’s lips.

The two of you are quiet while dancing. Only the sounds of the soft piano and grainy audio from your bad speaker fill the air. The quiet between you two is a break from the constant teasing and sarcasm. It feels weird, but not bad. You assume it’s just because you’re not used to being like this with Bucky.

As you start to zone out, letting your body start to move mindlessly, you feel Bucky’s rough hand push a thick lock of hair behind your ear.

“Couldn’t see your face.” Bucky says. Jesus, you nearly choke on air from hearing that. Did he mean to sound so sweet?

“Aw, you like my face?” You laugh off, trying to assert some control and lightheartedness in this situation.

“Yeah.” Bucky responds naturally. Your attempt to assert control has flown out the window. Unfair.

Bucky notices your flustered behavior, to which he only stifles a grin. He’s trying to not be an asshole about it, but the way you react from his words only boosts his ego. Bucky looks into your eyes, and it feels like his blue eyes are burning holes in your retinas.

You swear this song has been playing forever. Maybe that’s because Bucky hasn’t ripped his gaze away from you. As the song closes, ending on light piano and strings, Bucky plants a kiss on your cheekbone. Your head rushes with heat, but you try to keep composure. No way you’re gonna let a man catch you like this. As Bucky holds you lightly, he turns your head up to him. Bucky places a light kiss on your lips. Your head rushes with too many thoughts, and you feel yourself push Bucky away.

“It’s getting late, don’t you think?” You dust yourself off, laughing awkwardly. Maybe laughing too much. Bucky’s eyebrows furrow, and his lips look like they’re about to say something. Bucky closes his lips and frowns.

“Yeah. Guess so.” He responds, a sour frown still present on his face.

You run to grab your speaker and phone, rushing to your bedroom.

“Goodnight!” You flash an anxious grin to Bucky.

“Night.” Bucky muttered.

Of all the people you could find yourself flustered over, of course it had to be your goddamn roommate. There’s no way you could let yourself fall down this route. Hooking up with a roommate? That sounded like a quick way to find yourself apartment hunting in a few months. No thanks. What you and Bucky had was good, and there was no way you would let yourself — or Bucky —  ruin that.

— JUNE 21ST, 8PM

You and Bucky hadn’t talked about what had happened 4 days ago. There wasn’t really a good chance to, as you and Bucky had worked so often. There was never an open time to have a serious conversation. Not that you were prepared for a serious conversation, anyway. You’ve still been talking to Bucky, but only during brief exchanges when the two of you pass by each other in your home.

It was inconvenient, for sure. You two don’t realize how dependent the both of you guys are on each other until you’re both gone. Some simple groceries were running low, as Bucky couldn’t bring himself to ask you for  more. You were running on fumes, as you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Bucky to grab coffee for the both of you every morning. It used to be easy, Bucky had your coffee order memorized. It never changed. Now, Bucky’s been going to work without saying bye, and without getting you your coffee.

It was awful compared to how it used to be. You reassure yourself that this was normal. This is just how some roommates live. It’s better to be like this than to feed into your delusions, and inevitably fuck up something good. You want to keep living with Bucky. He’s a good roommate and a good person. You just can’t let him be a good partner either. It’s not worth the fallout.

Bucky sends you a text, more-so of a warning. “Bringing someone over tonight. Just letting you know.”

Hm. Interesting. Maybe it’s a friend? Surely it can’t be a date—

Your train of thought is interrupted by the sounds of the door unlocking. You sit up from the couch in a hurry, to look presentable to whoever is entering. It’s Bucky.. and some blonde. Huh. He really does have the nerve.

Bucky sends you a quick grin as he shows the blonde the place. He’s quick to place his hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards his bedroom. Absolutely shameless.

Bucky peels away from her for a second to talk to you. “I’m sorry, I know this is out of nowhere, but do you have somewhere to be for about.. 4 hours?” Bucky estimates. You shove down a scoff that’s begging to be released from your throat.

“Sure, Buck.” You respond, monotone as you grab your purse and your phone.

“You’re the best.” Bucky grins. You want to smack that shit-eating grin off his fucking face. You call Isabella, hoping to God she’ll pick up soon.

-

After 5 hours, and after you and Isabella get ice cream for some soothing for the soul, you head back to your apartment. Isabella begged to know everything about the situation with Bucky. You told her the bare minimum, as you swore it wasn’t anything. Isabella didn’t buy it, but she let you get away with it, for now.

The apartment is quiet when you enter. Isabella offered to let you stay at her place for the night, but you declined as you had work the next day, and you would be more comfortable getting ready in the comfort of your own home. Bucky’s dumbass isn’t going to stop you from living in your home.

You get ready and head to bed, hoping tomorrow will be more bearable.

— JUNE 22ND, 9AM

As you exit your bedroom, you rub your eyes as they try to acclimate to the bright sun shining through your apartment windows. You stop at the sight of the pretty blonde standing in nothing but Bucky’s red shirt, which is way too large for her. You’ve got to be kidding me.

The blonde grins at you and says your name. “Bucky told me all about you.”

Did he now? 

“Hope it’s nothing bad.” You respond, honestly.

“No, nothing like that. I was just worried since he had a girl roommate, you know?” She shrugs. You nod your head in understanding.

“I’m no threat.” You laugh as you head towards the bathroom.

“I sure hope not.” She responds.

God. A meteor from the sky hitting you at this exact moment would feel better than this.

— JULY 20TH, 9PM

The few days after were no better. The days turned into weeks. You swore Bucky was inviting every girl, and occasional guy, he could find from off the street. Your apartment felt like a warzone. You were constantly worried about accidentally walking in on something you didn’t want to see.

Isabella was down to have you over whenever you needed her to, and you loved her for it. However, Isabella had her own life, and you couldn’t make yourself an unofficial roommate that doesn’t pay a penny of rent. The days you had to spend in your apartment were rough. It was like Bucky knew you were home, and would intentionally be louder on purpose.

Loud moans and incoherent praises from the newest girl invited into apartment room 405 has plagued you for the past hour. The girl was loud. Exclamations of ‘oh, yes, Bucky!’ and numerous ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’s—’ left Bucky’s bedroom. Worst of all, you could hear Bucky reveling in her praises. You could hear Bucky respond with praises like, ‘Yeah, you like it like that?’ and ‘So pretty.. all for me’. You can feel your stomach knot. Noise-cancelling headphones can only do so much. As you head to the kitchen to grab your leftovers, you make a pit stop to bang on Bucky’s door.

“Keep it down, Bucky!” You yell through the door.

— JULY 21ST, 7PM

You lay your bag down as you come back from another long day of work. Bucky had told you that he wasn’t coming back home tonight. You didn’t care, in fact, it was probably the best news you had heard for a while.

The latest girl he had brought in was your co-worker, Zara. You mentally hit yourself for giving her his number to begin with. Once the moaning started, you forced yourself out the house. You couldn’t stomach the thought of it. Giving her number seemed so easy at a different point of time, but now, it seemed like your worst mistake. You didn’t blame Zara at all. She made it clear to you that she liked Bucky, and now she was the lucky lady who had all of Bucky��s attention that night. It’s not her fault the thought of it makes you sick.

As you reheat some food you had brought from work, you revel in the privacy. And quiet. You used to pray for times like these.

An hour later, you find yourself in your bed, consuming your favorite TV show. The main male love interest does have some similar features to Bucky, which you hate to admit. A man with brown hair and beautiful blue eyes hates to see you coming. It’s even worse once the show starts playing a rather graphic sex scene. You turn off your computer, trying to blink away the image of Bucky.

You plant your hands on your face, groaning. Why did everything remind you of him? Everything reminded of his beautiful eyes, his beautiful hair, and the beautiful sounds he makes when he has someone over… What?

Jesus Christ. You’re really losing it now.

The damage had been done. The knot in your stomach could only be released one way. You grab the joke gift your friends had gifted you a few years ago from your bedside table. Behold, the humble, 7-inch purple dildo named Woody. Which paired ever so nicely with your trusty vibrator named Buzz.

You ease up on Woody, who’s slick with lube. A soft moan exits your mouth as you bounce lightly on the dildo. You were letting yourself be louder than you normally would be, as you had the promise of an empty apartment. You were thinking of it as some sort of lewd present towards yourself.

The walls were thin, proven by how well you’ve been able to hear Bucky this past month. Surely the walls were thin enough for you to hear the door opening.

Your face falls flat on your cool bed, as you pump the dildo deep into you. The sounds are god awful.

Bucky comes home earlier than expected. He would’ve texted you, but he knew you were angry with him. His undying stubbornness didn’t let him accept the fact you were angry with him. It made him feel better just saying he was angry with you for pushing him away.

As he unplugged his headphones from his ears, he’s surprised to hear some commotion from your room. Surely you wouldn’t have anyone over, right?

Bucky presses his ear against your door, trying to gauge what was happening. He felt gross and pervish, but his curiosity dragged him to low depths. He heard soft moans from you. He itched as he listened to you fill yourself with your dildo. He can barely breathe, he can’t let himself be caught listening to you. What would you think?

You were greedy and lustful. As you inched closer to your high, you turned on Buzz and lightly hovered it over your clit. The double stimulation nearly draws you over the edge. You’re vocal, and needy.

Bucky can barely breathe hearing you. He doesn’t need to be as close to the door as he is, but he’s greedy as well. He wants to only hear you. He wants to be surrounded by your scent, sound, and body.

You feel your body twitch at the sensation, and your mind can only think about how much better this would be if Bucky was above you, bullying his dick into you. Woody can only get you so far. You wanted to be surrounded by Bucky’s scent, sound, and body.

Bucky nearly feels himself come undone from your sounds.

“F-Fuck, I need it—” Your voice sounds muffled from all the blankets in your face. “B-Bucky.”

Holy shit. Bucky groans at the sound of it. Which he hopes to hell you didn’t hear. He nearly explodes right then and there. He swears he could die happy right now.

“Harder, Bucky—” You moan out. Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He either needed to join, or he needed this to end. Bucky bangs on your door. 

“Keep it down in there!” Bucky shouts, as he chooses the latter.

You feel yourself stop breathing. Shit, there’s no way he heard you, right? You hope that you start ceasing to exist anytime soon. The intense wave of embarrassment is then filled with anger. Unwarranted, maybe. But enough is enough. Even if Bucky hadn’t heard your pleads for him, him asking for quiet was rich coming from him.

You slide your pants back on, a little disappointed you weren’t able to fully finish. You barge outside, to where Bucky peacefully sits in the living room.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that right?” You bark at Bucky.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Bucky rolls his eyes, “I’m not the one screaming in my bedroom.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Bucky?” You groan, “As if you’re not fucking some person’s brains out every fucking night? You think I don’t hear that shit?”

Bucky frowns. “I’m just asking for you to keep it down. You ask me to do it all the time.”

You scoff, your anger filling you up, you swear you could light up in flames. 

“Un-fucking-believable.” You say as you slam your door shut. Bucky clears his throat, palming down the obvious tent in his pants.

— JULY 23RD, 8PM

Isabella had the brilliant idea of going out after another shift. You normally prefer to have a fun night-in with your friends, but the idea of getting impossibly drunk and forgetting all about your roommate from hell sounded more appealing as the days passed. 

Your friends and you had planned a small pre-game at Isabella’s, only deciding to drink lightly for now. Maybe at the club you could splurge on a few drinks here and there. The idea of being surrounded by people that weren't Bucky was refreshing. It was about time.

You had gotten a couple of texts from Sam, who had heard about the situation from Bucky. Even with Bucky’s bias, Sam was sympathetic towards you. He would make a joke that he was on your side in the divorce, but the term ‘divorce’ made the whole thing sound more serious. And you and Bucky were never serious. And never will be.

Isabella was obviously on your side. She had planted the idea of finding a sort of rebound from Bucky. That also made the two of you sound more serious than you actually were. However, the idea of getting laid tonight didn’t seem so bad.

-

You were drunk, which was exactly what you had wanted. The club was sweaty, hot, and full of hormones. A perfect breeding ground for horrible one-night stands.

An attractive man had approached you. He had cute red glasses which blocked out his eyes, and his hair was tinged with red. He said his name was Matt. It was interesting; he was blind, but he held himself up like he could see everything. You could smell the alcohol flow from his lips.

The music was loud and the bass boomed throughout the club. You could feel each vibration throughout your body. Whenever Matt had tried to talk to you, he had to basically scream in your ear for you to hear. Matt could always make out what you were trying to say, even if you didn’t shout. He looked severely overstimulated.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Matt asked, shouting in your ear.

“Please!” You shout back. 

You get Isabella’s attention, and gesture to Matt, who’s started to drag you out of the sweaty club. Isabella gives a knowing look, and tells you to call her if you need anything. You send a few kisses her way, and follow Matt outside.

“I can barely hear.” You laugh, as you and Matt finally exit the club.

“Tell me about it.” Matt strains. “The club isn’t really my scene.”

“Why’d you come then?” You ask Matt, while walking on the sidewalk. It’s starting to drizzle.

“My friend – co-worker, really – Karen wanted to have a fun night tonight. We just started a new business together. Attorneys.” Matt says as he hands you a dingy business card. It reads ‘Nelson & Murdock’ in small, black print and corresponding braille underneath it. What a cute touch.

“So, are you Nelson, or Murdock?”

“Murdock,” Matt grins, “Nelson’s my friend, Foggy.”

“I’ll make sure to call you if I have any legal trouble.” You promise.

“Please do. Our only clients have been paying us in chickens.”

“Chickens?”

“Long story.” 

You let out a small chuckle, pulling Matt in close. Your arms rest on his shoulders and you purse your lips, thinking. Matt’s hand glides towards your waist, as he waits for you to speak.

“You seem like you have something to say.” Matt reads you well.

“I’m trying to think if this is a good idea.” You admit.

“I’m sure there’s a few ways I could convince you.” Matt whispers as he presses an instantaneous kiss on your jawline.

“I can’t be won that easily.” You grin as you shake your head.

“A shame.” Matt clicks his tongue.

-

Turns out, with a few more sweet phrases and corny pick-up lines, you really could be won that easily. You and Matt stumble into his apartment, kissing as you walk in. The neon of the obnoxious glowing billboard from the opposite building fills the apartment with purple and blue light. Free mood lighting. 

Matt pushes you against the door as he closes it. He plants hot kisses on your jawline and neck. He knows where all of your pulse points are, which only drives you crazier. Matt breaks away with a deep breath, grabbing you and dragging you to his bedroom.

The next morning, you wake up naked in Matt’s bedroom. Your phone is nearly dead, but you’re still able to see the numerous texts and calls you have from Bucky. Christ. This isn’t helping your pounding headache. Matt still lays in bed next to you, and he wakes up from your movement.

“In a rush?” He asks, his voice tired and gravelly.

“Searching for a phone charger around here.” You laugh as you pick up Matt’s shirt from off the ground, throwing it on.

Matt chuckles as he takes your phone and grabs his charger to plug your phone in. He either really has his house memorized or he’s not blind. You’re not gonna be the one asking the seemingly blind guy if he’s actually not blind. You’d rather sit in your confusion.

“Last night was fun.” You say, as you find your pants on the floor.

“I’m not the type of guy to sleep with someone the first day I meet them.” Matt confesses.

“Am I the exception, then?”

“Seems so.” Matt shrugs, sitting up from his bed. You grin to yourself.

“I think we should do this again.” Matt proposes.

“So soon? That’s a little desperate, Matt.” You joke.

“What can I say? I go for what I want.” Matt responds. You raised your eyebrows with a grin.

“Two days from now. I’ll be free then.”

“Sounds great.”

— JULY 24TH, 2PM

You finally arrive back home after spending the morning with Matt. The door closes with a small click. Bucky is sitting in the kitchen, his gaze immediately snapping towards you. He gets up from his chair, walking straight towards you. It’s intimidating, you’ve never seen him so serious.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bucky barks, his voice stern. You roll your eyes, as you put your bag and jacket away on the coat hanger.

“Who’s fucking shirt is that?” Bucky says as he notes your new black shirt from Matt. He doesn’t mention how it smells like cologne, though he feels his cheeks burn with fire. It’s a shitty cologne, in Bucky’s not-so humble opinion.

“I’m not sure how this is any of your business, Bucky.” You respond, snarky.

“Don’t get a fucking attitude with me.” Bucky scoffs.

“Me? That’s rich.”

“I called and texted you multiple times.”

“My phone was fucking dead, and it was like— 5AM.” You groan, pushing past Bucky.

“Where were you?” Bucky asks again, his voice getting increasingly more desperate.

“I told you last night. I went out with friends.”

“And you didn’t come back home? And with a new shirt that’s been dunked in cologne?”

“I’m an adult, Bucky.”

Bucky frowns. He didn’t like the way he was begging you for answers, and how you wouldn’t give him anything.

“Whatever.” Bucky brushes past you, walking back to his room. Unbelievable.

— JULY 26TH, 6PM

You wait outside Matt’s apartment, patiently waiting for your date to start. You had gotten encouragement from your friends to see Matt again, especially since you had seemed so excited planning your date. Matt was a charming guy, and he definitely wasn’t bad in bed. Truthfully, you were looking for more ways to get out of your house other than work. You wanted to experience more life, and you definitely weren’t doing that being stuck in your apartment with a roommate who hated your guts.

Matt opened the door, grinning as he did. 

“You look good.” He compliments.

“How can you tell?” You ask.

“Intuition. I’m usually good at these things.” Matt shrugs, which earns a small laugh from you.

“Let’s go.” You say, still laughing. Matt gestures for you to hold onto his arm as the both of you exit his apartment complex.

-

The date was going well. The conversation was easy, which was a relief. You’ve learned more about Matt. He was a Hell’s Kitchen native, and his dad was a boxer. You told him about your small hometown, and your dreams of finally leaving your server job. You weren’t passionate about accounting, but you wanted to live more lavishly than you did now.

You had offered your place for Matt to spend the night. The date was going well, so why not? You send a text Bucky’s way, telling him that someone would be spending the night. He promptly leaves you on read. Asshole.

You and Matt quietly enter your apartment. You tell Matt to leave his shoes by the door. You scan the apartment, searching for any signs of Bucky being home. Thankfully, you can’t seem to see any sign of him.

“Do you need anything, Matty?” You say, dropping a nickname. Matt raises his eyebrows and smiles in response.

“Water would be good.” Matt responds.

As you head to the kitchen to grab Matt a glass of water, Bucky enters the living room from his bedroom. He looks shocked, nonetheless, to see a guy sitting so casually in his living room.

You mutter small curses to yourself, hoping Bucky doesn’t make a scene.

“Bucky.. This is Matt. Matt, this is Bucky, my roommate.” You take the liberty of making introductions. You walk over to the living room to hand Matt his water.

“Bucky. I’ve heard a bit about you.” Matt says as he politely greets Bucky. Bucky returns a tight-lipped grin to Matt.

“You did tell me someone was coming over.” Bucky says to you.

“I did.”

Bucky’s grip on his phone was tightening, his knuckles turning white from the sheer force of his grip.

“Well, hope you two lovebirds enjoy yourself.” Bucky says as he turns back into his bedroom. His bedroom door closes with a click.

“Don’t mind him.” You sigh, telling Matt as you close your eyes.

“Got it.” Matt laughs off the awkward interaction.

-

Later, you and Matt find yourselves in your bedroom. He places soft kisses on your collar bones as you unbutton his nice top. It would be a shame if it were to wrinkle. Matt’s body envelops your senses. Matt rubs your clit kindly and slowly, there’s added friction from your underwear. You can’t help but arch your back, leaning into his touch.

Matt says sweet praises as he preps you with his fingers. He slowly slides your underwear to the side as he thrusts himself into you.

Just as shit was getting good, you hear loud banging at your door. There’s no way. You whine as Matt removes himself from you.

“That can’t be Bucky, right?” Matt whispers, as he furrows his eyebrows.

Matt’s cut off from Bucky shouting your name from outside your door.

“Give me a second. Put your clothes on.” You warn as you get up from your bed. Walking out in only your top and underwear. Matt groans as he obliges.

As you open your door, Bucky pushes through to speak to Matt. “She has a long day tomorrow. I’m sorry, you gotta go.”

The genuine audacity. You scoff, and then you look at Matt, who looks mortified. This is your nightmare.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask Bucky in a low, short whisper. Bucky doesn’t respond, only focusing on cock-blocking your night with Matt.

“I’m gonna head out.” Matt says, seeming done with this weird dynamic between you and Bucky. You want to slap the shit out of Bucky, he’s driving away your chances with Matt, and the chance to get fucked tonight.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Matt.” You whisper as Matt grabs his things and heads out of your apartment. Matt shoots you a confused look and turns away quickly. There’s nothing he wants more than to get away from whatever you and Bucky have going on.

As the door closes, you turn to Bucky. You can’t even look at him. You’re shaking with anger. You’re embarrassed of the tears that well up in your eyes from the anger. “What. The actual fuck is wrong with you?”

“You were only going to regret it tomorrow. I’m helping you dodge a bullet.” Bucky replies nonchalantly, not admitting that he just couldn’t stand the sounds of another man making you moan. If it’s not him, it can’t be anyone.

“You have a lot of fucking nerve saying that shit. You’re making my choices for me now, Bucky?” You accuse, pointing your finger at Bucky.

Bucky didn’t like seeing you angry, but he was too stubborn to apologize. You want to shake some sense into Bucky, but your anger paralyzes you, only being able to stare at Bucky. His eyes gleamed in the dark, the only light coming from the dim light from your hallway.

“You two wouldn’t last.” Bucky shrugs. You turn your head towards Bucky with your eyes wide, looking like you could explode any second. He stands, overconfidently. His face is painted with an artificial smugness. In reality, his heartbeat was booming out of his chest.

“Jesus Christ, Bucky.” You scoff. Bucky’s lips part as if he was going to say something, maybe apologize, but he closes them promptly. You couldn’t stand the way he just sat there, looking so pretty. You pushed Bucky into the wall, balling fistfuls of his shirt in your hands. It’s a bold move, attacking someone so much larger than yourself. Adrenaline runs through your veins.

“You’re gonna tell me what the fuck is wrong with you, Bucky,” You threaten, your teeth baring, “What happened to you? We used to be so good, you used to be so good-” You’re cut off by the feeling of Bucky’s semi-hard dick pushing against your stomach. 

“Are you fucking hard right now?” You laugh. Bucky’s eyes are wide, as he pushes himself away from you.

“You were so fucking talkative, now look at you. Cat got your tongue?” You tease, finding this utterly hilarious. Bucky had the nerve to cock-block you twice, you might as well revel in this moment.

Bucky doesn’t respond, being too embarrassed to muster up some snarky reply.

“C’mon, Buck, use your words.” You coo, cocking your head slightly at Bucky.

“Don’t fucking do that.” Bucky mutters.

“Or what? You don’t like it?” You grin. You definitely like it.

Bucky adjusts his pants, making more room for his aching boner.

“Surely you want someone to help you with that, Bucky.” You say as you push Bucky on the couch. Bucky flops onto the couch, too breathless to respond.

“You’ve been so fucking annoying recently, Bucky. You know that, right?” You kneel in front of Bucky, unbuckling his pants masterfully.

“I— I’m sorry.” Bucky apologizes, shallowly.

“You don’t get to get away with that shit. You gotta face some consequences, no?” You purr.

Bucky’s face is flushed, embarrassed with how easily he was able to shut up. Bucky’s dick springs out of his boxers.

“Is this all I had to do to shut you up, James? Should’ve just told me. You would’ve gotten this earlier.” You tease. Bucky’s breath is stolen from him by the use of his first name. It feels too intimate, too personal. It feels right coming out your mouth, however.

“Please.. Please, make me cum.” Bucky pleads, pathetically.

“Gotta wait a little longer, James. You made me wait so long to cum.”

You place short and sweet kisses along Bucky’s dick, making him reel from the light gifts of pleasure. It’s not enough, and Bucky’s getting more antsy.

“You want more? Tell me how much you want more.” You grin, cruelly.

“I need it…”

“Need what? C’mon, use your words, baby.”

“Need your lips.” Bucky breathes out, his head laying on the couch.

“So pathetic.” You tease, as you finally lick the pre-cum that’s been leaking out of Bucky’s dick. Bucky groans at the sensation. You wrap your lips around Bucky’s tip, pumping the rest of his shaft with your hand. Bucky’s a mess under you. His back arches from the pleasure. You take most of Bucky in your mouth, moving your hands to lightly play with Bucky’s balls. Tears prick in Bucky’s eyes.

“Fuck— Please— so good, it feels so good.” Bucky mumbles incoherently. The sounds he makes drives you crazy, and your hand naturally finds itself at your core. You lightly rub your clit, your moans against Bucky’s dick drives him insane.

As you feel Bucky draw closer and closer to his high, you take that as a sign to pull back. The only thing connecting you and Bucky is the string of saliva from your mouth. Bucky whimpers as you leave.

“Why— Why did you do that? I was so close.” Bucky whines.

“You were going to cum without my permission, James. That’s no good.” You say as you place a soft kiss on Bucky’s mouth, letting him taste himself on your lips.

Bucky looks at you, his eyes pleading. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum, baby,” You promise, “You’re just gonna have to do one small thing for me, Buck.”

“What? Please, I’ll do anything. Baby, please.” Bucky begs.

“Apologize.” You grin, “Apologize for how much of an asshole you’ve been to me lately.”

Bucky swallows thickly. His stubbornness yells at him to keep dying on this hill. However, he can’t ignore the way he needs you. The way he needs to feel himself in you. Your hand starts slowly pumping his dick, urging him to apologize.

“I’m so sorry.” He breathes out.

“That’s not good enough, baby.” You coo, as you stop pumping his dick entirely. The absence of you drives him insane.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been a selfish asshole. I couldn’t bear the fact that I couldn’t have you. I’m an asshole, baby, I’m so sorry.” Bucky pleads. You grin, happy with his answer.

“Yeah, that’s good, Bucky. You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” You say, slowly restarting your pace on Bucky’s dick.

Bucky nods fervently. “I’ll be good for you.”

You’ve heard what you had to hear. You’ve reveled in Bucky’s long overdue apology, now it’s time to give Bucky what he deserves. You unbutton your pants, sliding them off with ease. Your underwear is hastily thrown behind you, and you straddle Bucky’s hips. As you slide down on Bucky’s length, both of you moan out in pleasure. You bounce lightly on Bucky, the delicious friction nearly pulling you over the edge.

You place warm, affectionate kisses on Bucky’s lips. As you hold onto Bucky’s shoulders for support, your nails dig into his flesh as you feel yourself coming undone over Bucky. Bucky’s lips are pink and swollen from all your kisses, his eyes being clouded with lust and affection.

Bucky places soft kisses on your neck and collarbones. It drives you crazy. You lean your head back, allowing for more room. Bucky plants kisses all over your chest, letting out soft moans as you bounce on him. 

“So good for me.” You whisper.

“Were you this wet when you were touching yourself thinking about me?” Bucky asks, his breath light. So he did hear you. You chuckle in response.

“No, Bucky. You’re so much better.” You praise, being followed by loud moans. Bucky grins as he grabs your ass.

“Could’ve just told me you wanted me, Buck. This would’ve been so much easier.” You groan out.

“I know. I’m sorry, baby.” Bucky replies, trying his best to get his words out, as he’s too busy enjoying the feeling of your wet walls clenching around his dick.

You rest your arms on Bucky’s shoulders for support as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. Bucky cups your jaw, and holds your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are needy and filled with care. Your lips are parted ever so slightly, allowing for grotesque noises to be freed from your mouth.

“You want me to come inside of you, baby?” Bucky asks. You nod vigorously. You’re too busy being drunk off Bucky’s presence to speak.

“Please— Please, gorgeous boy.” You beg.

“Fuck—,” Bucky groans at your sweet words, “Gonna cum for you.”

“So good.” You croon. You lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder as you bounce faster on Bucky’s dick. “Come for me, baby.”

Bucky’s cum fills you up. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself release on Bucky’s dick. Bucky groans from the feeling, and the both of you slow your pace as you come down from your collective high. As you pull yourself off of Bucky, the mixture of your arousal oozes out of your pussy. You place kisses alongside Bucky’s cheek, eventually lowering to his chest.

Bucky lies in his afterglow. He brushes your hair lightly as you lift yourself from him. You sit next to him, enjoying his presence for the first time in a while. You’re not sure yet if this is something you’ll grow to regret, but living in the moment sounds a lot better than always expecting the worst. 

–

ok now imagine they talk it out and its all sunshine and rainbows and they all apologize and its awesome and cool. #sorry #lowkeytoolazytowriteit

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Ooo so I just had this thought come to mind!!

Can I please request a platonic Dad!Steve Rogers x daughter reader where he had a newborn daughter pre serum, and when Steve crashes the plane into the ice, his now 3 year old daughter gets abducted by Hydra. They at first intended to experiment on her but they turned their focus on their main project, Bucky, so they put Steve’s daughter in cryo for almost 60 years until SHIELD finds her in a raid on Hydra’s compound and as this is before Steve is out of the ice and no one knows who she is, she’s put into foster care. Then flash forward to CA: Winter Soldier, Steve is pulled into Fury’s office because a 15 year old girl hacked into SHEILD’s servers (she most likely trying to find out what happened to her when she was little) and Fury had run her dna to see who she was only to found that she is Captain America’s daughter (but she doesn’t remember who her Dad is or that she was born in 1942, but she may get some memories here and there) and Steve would probably start crying on the spot because he thought his daughter wasn’t alive and he’d feel guilty that Hydra got their hands on her. she is in a lot of trouble with SHEILD and Steve gets her out of it by having her use her hacking abilities to help The Avengers. Anyways, she rebels against Steve a lot, sneaks out, and feels angry at her dad because she feels like he abandoned her back in the 40s because he insisted on trying to enlist. When they get Bucky back and he joins the Avengers (I’m sure Y/n used her hacking skills to help and also the Avengers don’t break up) Bucky would be so emotional to see his niece again and she’d confide how she’s feeling about her Dad and I feel like he’d be a big help and Sam would help talk her through the trauma she’s gone through. Bucky convinces her to talk to her Dad and she opens up to Steve, telling him how she felt abandoned and unloved by him and it would absolutely break Steve’s heart and he just holds his daughter close and promise to never leave her again 🥺

Never Leaving You Again » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Dad!Pre Serum Steve Rogers x Daughter!Reader with 40s Bucky Barnes, Dad!Steve Rogers x Teen Daughter!Reader with Nick Fury, Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and the Avengers

Summary: Steve promises to never leave you again when you tell him that you feel abandoned and unloved by him.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, language, HYDRA, kidnapping, feelings of abandonment and unloved, crying, nicknames

Ages of reader: newborn, 3 years old, and 15 years old

A/N: Thank you for the beautifully detailed request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

A/N #2: Italic text is flashbacks. Y/M/N stands for your mom’s name.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Gif credits go to the creators.

1942

“What’s it like now that you’re a dad?” Bucky curiously asks Steve.

“It’s a lot to adjust to, but I love it and wouldn’t change it for the world.” Steve answers as he smiles down at you. “Isn’t that right, princess?” He coos at you.

You made a babbling noise as you stared up at your dad and uncle.

“This little girl has no idea how much I’m going to spoil her.” Bucky says, gently and softly rubbing his thumb against your tiny hand.

“Are you trying to make my daughter choose favorites?” Steve jokingly asks.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.” Bucky playfully grins. “I am her godfather and favorite uncle after all.” He says.

“If anyone is going to be her favorite, it’s going to be me.” Steve says.

“Both of you are wrong. I’m going to be Y/N’s favorite.” Your mom says as she walks in the living room with your bottle.

Steve carefully handed you over to your mom so she can feed you.

“Just know, boys will be boys, sweetie.” Your mom tells you as she feeds you.

You just stared up at her as she fed you. Steve and Bucky playfully rolled their eyes at her.

———

“Do you think Y/N will hate me when I enlist in the Army?” Steve asks your mom.

“Honey, she’s just a baby. She’ll love you no matter what.” Your mom says softly.

“You’re right.” Steve smiles and kisses your mom. “I just needed to hear it.” He says.

———

1945

You were in the living room, drawing on blank pieces of paper. You were drawing more pictures to send to your dad and uncle Bucky. Your mom was in the kitchen getting you some juice.

“Here you go, sweetie.” Your mom says, putting your juice cup in front of you on the coffee table.

“Thank you, mama.” You say with a smile.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles down at you.

Your mom was about to go back to the kitchen to do the dishes when there was a knock at the door. She opened the door to see two Army officers.

“Are you Y/M/N Rogers?” One of the Army officers asks.

“Yes.” Your mom answers.

“We’re so sorry that we have to tell you this, but your husband, Captain Steven Rogers, the plane he was in went down and unfortunately he didn’t make it.” The second Army officer tells her.

Your mom’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and tears filled her eyes. You walked over to your mom to see her talking to two men at the door.

“Mama?” You tapped on her leg.

Your mom and the Army officers looked down at you. You stared up at your mom with the look of curiosity on your face and wondering what has your mom upset.

“Why sad?” You asked her.

“Go back to the living room, sweetie. I’ll be there in a minute, ok?” Your mom says.

“Ok, mama.” You replied.

You went back to the living room and picked up where you left off on your drawings to your dad and uncle Bucky. The Army said their condolences to your mom before leaving. Your mom closed the door and went to the living room. She sat down on the couch. At this point, tears were streaming down her face.

“Sweetie…” Her voice cracks. “Mama, has something to tell you.” She says, patting the spot next to her on the couch.

You stopped what you were doing and climbed up onto the couch next to your mom. You looked at her, waiting for her to tell you what she has to tell you.

“You know that daddy loves you very much, right?” Your mom begins.

You smiled and nodded your head.

“Well, umm-” She cleared her throat. “Daddy isn’t coming home.” She says.

“Why?” You asked.

“Something happened to him and he didn’t make it.” She tells you.

“Didn’t make it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“He’s in heaven now.” She says.

“No.” You said. “Daddy and uncle Bucky are coming home.” You say.

“Uncle Bucky is in heaven too, sweetie.” She says.

Your bottom lip and your tears teared up when she said that. You shook your head no, refusing to believe that two of your favorite people are dead.

“I want them to come home!” You say, tears rolling down your face.

“I know, sweetie. I do too.” Your mom almost whispers.

You broke down in tears. Your mom pulled you onto her lap. She held you while the both of you cried together.

A few weeks go by since your mom told you that your dad and uncle Bucky aren’t coming home. You’re not sure how to cope with the fact that they’re not coming home, but you’re trying to stay strong for your mom.

You were sleeping in your bedroom when the door was busted down. You scrambled to sit up. You seen a man dressed in all black tactical gear. You screamed as loud as you could, hoping your mom would hear you and would coming running to your room, but she didn’t. The man covered your mouth with a cloth, your screams muffled by his hand. The more you inhaled the chemicals on the cloth, you grew weak and pasted out.

When you came to, you woke up in an unfamiliar room and strapped to a cold metal table. You began to panic. You tried to squirm out of the restraints, but it was no use. The restraints were too tight. You jumped when the door opened. A man in a suit and a man in a white lab coat walked in the room.

“Hello, Miss. Rogers.” The man in the suit greets you. “I’m Arnim Zola.” He introduces himself.

You stayed quiet, staring at him. If your mom, dad, and uncle Bucky taught you anything about strangers, it’s to not talk to them.

“You’re going to be a new edition to HYDRA.” Zola says.

Zola looks at the man in the lab coat who was prepping an IV needle. He gave him a nod. The man walked over to you. Your eyes went wide and your heart started to pound in your chest when you seen the needle. Your breathing became uneven and tears streamed down your face. You cried when the IV needle pricked your skin. That’s when all of the pain and trauma began…

———

60 YEARS LATER

SHIELD Agents busted down the doors to the HYDRA base. They split up, raiding the place. Everywhere room in the base was clear, except for one… the cryogenic chamber room, which is where you are. An agent pushed the button to open the chamber you’re in. Everyone’s eyes went wide when they seen that you’re just a kid.

“This is sick of them. This child didn’t deserve any of the pain they put her through.” A SHIELD Agent says.

Everyone nodded in agreement. They got you out of the cryo and took you to a hospital to get you checked out. An employee from child protective services was called to your case. She was told where you were found and you didn’t have any family members to take care of you. She put you in the foster care system and hoped that a loving family would adopted you.

———

Curiosity fills your mind. You were wondering who your parents are, where you’re from, and stuff like that. Memories appear in your mind from time to time.

During study hall at school, you decided to do non school related research. You typed your name into Google, wondering what would come up. A lot popped up, mostly of a man called Captain America. You furrowed your eyebrows and clicked on one of the links. It took you to SHIELD’s website. It also showed you a picture of a man who has the same last name as you. You did more digging. You typed a code into your laptop, hacking into SHIELD’s servers to get more information on the man who has the same last name as you.

Little did you know that the hacking you did alerted SHIELD. An alert came up on everyone’s computers. A couple agents went straight to Fury’s office.

“Director Fury, someone hacked into our servers.” One of the agents tells him.

“I know. I’m looking at it.” Fury says.

Fury checked the location of where the hack came from. He also found out that the hacker was a 15 year old girl… you.

“That hacker is a 15 year old girl named Y/N who attends high school in the city.” Fury tells the agents. “Go get her and bring her in.” He instructs.

The agents nodded and went to your school.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” The secretary asks them.

“We were told to pick up girl named Y/N and bring her in for questioning.” One of the agents says.

The secretary states at the two agents for a second, noticing that they’re wearing tactical gear. She also knows that you get into trouble sometimes. She didn’t question them.

“Y/N, please come to the front office.” The secretary announces over the intercom.

You groaned loudly, wondering what you’re in trouble for this time. You closed your laptop and put it in your backpack. You slung your backpack onto your shoulders and went to the front office. You froze when you seen the two agents. You noticed SHIELD’s logo from the website you hacked into on their tactical gear.

“Shit…” You mumbled to yourself.

You tried to escape them by running past them, but they grabbed you before you could. They led you out of the school and out to SHIELD’s vehicle. You got in the vehicle and stayed quiet the whole ride to SHIELD. You walked inside of SHIELD with the two agents behind you. You were met by Fury.

“Take her to interrogation room 1 and take her laptop and other devices she might have from her.” Fury tells the agents.

The agents nodded and took you to the interrogation room. You dropped your backpack on the floor and sat in the chair, slouching in it. One agent grabbed your backpack and took your laptop out of it.

“You can’t just do that!” You say loudly.

“Actually, we can.” One agent says.

“Give us your cell phone.” The second agent says, holding out his hand.

You made a grumbling noise and took your phone out of your back pocket, handing it to him. The agents left the room, leaving you alone in the interrogation room.

“Fucking assholes.” You mumbled under your breath.

You were alone in the interrogation room while SHIELD’s tech team checked your phone and laptop to see why you hacked into their servers.

“Did you find anything?” Fury asks.

“It appears that’s she hacked our servers to get information on Captain Rogers.” The tech agent tells him.

As Fury looked at the picture of Steve that’s on Steve’s SHIELD profile, he noticed similarities between you and him.

“Get a DNA test on her.” Fury says.

A SHIELD agent nodded and went to SHIELD’s lab to get a DNA testing kit before going to the interrogation room you’re in.

“Can I leave now?” You asked as the agent walked in the room.

“No.” The agent said. “Roll up your sleeve and stay still.” He says.

You seen a needle in his hand. Your eyes went wide.

“Hell no!” You jumped out of the chair. “I am not going through that shit again!” You say.

The agent called another agent in the room for assistance. He wrapped his arms around you to prevent you from escaping. The other agent rolled up your sweatshirt sleeve. You yelped when the needle pricked your skin. The agent took a little bit of your blood and put a bandaid on your arm where he took your blood. The other agent let go of you and both of them left the room. You sat back down in the chair.

The agent took your blood to the lab for the DNA test, putting a rush on it. What feels like forever goes by and the results of the DNA test are ready. The lab tech took the results to Fury. Fury looked at the results. The DNA test results revealed that you’re the daughter of Captain America. Fury announced for Steve to go to his office the intercom. Steve was confused on why Fury called him to his office.

“You wanted to see me?” Steve asks as he walked in Fury’s office.

“You might want to sit down.” Fury says.

Steve sat down in one of the chairs that’s in front of Fury’s desk.

“I’m sure that you heard about someone hacking into our servers today.” Fury begins.

Steve nods.

“We found out who the hacker is and brought her here. Apparently, a 15 year old girl was trying to get information on you.” He tells him.

“Why?” Steve asks.

“You tell me. How come you never told anyone that you have a daughter?” He asks.

Steve shifted in his seat when Fury brought you up.

“My daughter is a sensitive subject for me to talk about. I haven’t seen her since she was a year old. I tried looking for her when I came out of the ice, but didn’t find anything. I assumed she died and that was very hard for me to come to terms with.” Steve says.

“You assumed wrong.” Fury says, handing Steve your DNA test results.

Steve looked at the test results. His eyes went wide.

“N-No. This isn’t possible. My daughter is dead.” Steve says in a shaky voice.

“DNA doesn’t lie, Rogers.” Fury says.

Steve was completely mind blown. His eyes filled with tears.

“She’s in interrogation room 1 if you want to see her.” Fury tells him.

“She- She’s here?” Steve asks.

Fury nodded. Steve stood up, going straight to the interrogation room you’re in. His breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door and seeing you for the first time in years.

“What? Do you guys want more blood from me?” You asked sarcastically.

Steve closed the door behind him and walked over to the table, sitting down across from me.

“Y/N?” Steve asks.

“Yes?” You say like a question. “Do I know you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m your dad.” He says.

“N-No.” You shook your head. “My mom told me that my dad died or something in the Army in 1945.” You say.

“Sweetheart, I know it’s a shock for you. It is for me.” He says.

That’s when a memory flashed in your mind.

“I’m going to miss you, princess. Daddy loves you so much.” Steve say softly.

“Wuv dada.” You babbled.

Steve smiles and kisses the top of your head before handing you off to your mom. He gave your mom a kiss too.

“I’ll see both of you soon.” Steve says before making his way over to the Military Jeep.

The memory ended. Steve put his hand on top of yours. You jerked your hand away and stood up from the chair.

“You said you would come home! You lied!” You exclaimed.

“Princess, I didn’t lie. I had to do what I had to do.” Steve says.

“Don’t fucking call me princess! I’m not a little girl anymore!” You say.

“Y/N, please calm down.” He says softly.

“Don’t tell me to fucking to calm down!” You shouted. “Do you want to know what my life was like after you “died”? My life was a living hell since I was 3 years old! HYDRA took my childhood from me! They injected me with Super Soldier serum and trained me to do things I didn’t want to do! Then I got froze and 60 years later, I got put in the foster care system. Today, I looked up what my life to see who my parents are and now I’m here.” You tell him.

Steve didn’t know what to say. He was completely heartbroken for you. He knows one thing for sure, he wants to kill HYDRA with his bare hands for what they did to his daughter.

“Sweetheart, I tried looking for you. I couldn’t find anything on you and I assumed you were- you know.” Steve says.

“You thought I was dead?” You asked.

Steve nodded.

“What kind of fucking parent thinks that his kid is dead?” You asked.

“I-I couldn’t find anything on you.” He says again.

You shook your head and scoffed. Tears were streaming down your face at this point. Steve stood up and walked over to you to give you a hug, but you backed away from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You hissed.

Steve steps back, giving you some space. Both of you looked at the door when Fury walked in the room, along with an agent.

“I’m sorry, Rogers, but we have to take your daughter in.” Fury says.

The agent walked over to you with a pair of handcuffs. Steve steps between you and the agent.

“You are not putting my daughter in handcuffs.” Steve says.

“Captain Rogers, she hacked our servers.” The agent says.

“It was a huge misunderstanding. She didn’t mean to hack the servers. All she was trying to do was find out who her parents are and she found me.” He explains, looking at Fury.

Fury stares at Steve for a second before looking at you.

“Just make sure she doesn’t do it again.” Fury says.

Steve nods. Fury and the agent left the room, leaving you and Steve alone. Steve grabbed your backpack and got your phone and laptop back.

“I’m taking home.” Steve says.

“Oh, great.” You mumbled under your breath, wondering what your foster parents have to say about what kind of trouble you got into today.

“You’re not going back to the home you’re thinking. I’m taking you home with me.” He says.

———

PRESENT DAY

Ever since you and Steve reunited, you two haven’t been getting along. You’ve been getting into trouble, not listening, sneaking out, and testing your dad’s patience.

“Y/N, I told you to clean your room yesterday.” Steve says, looking around your messy bedroom.

“You tell me a lot of things.” You mumbled as you continued to scroll through your phone.

Steve snatched your phone, getting your attention.

“That’s mine!” You whined, trying to reach for your phone.

“You can have it back after you clean your room.” He says.

You groaned loudly as he left your room. You took a look around your room. You’ll admit that it’s messy. You just didn’t know that you let it get this bad. You put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket, threw away whatever trash you had in your room, and organized your bedroom. When you were done cleaning your room, you went to your dad to get your phone back.

“I’m done cleaning my room. Can I have my-” The words died on your tongue when you seen your uncle Bucky for the first time in years. “Uncle Bucky?” You almost whispered.

“Doll?” Bucky almost whispers.

You ran over to Bucky, hugging him tightly. Tears filled both your eyes and Bucky’s eyes.

“You’re alive.” You say.

“So are you.” Bucky says.

Bucky let go of you and took a step back, smiling at how grown up you are.

“You’re so grown up.” He says, making you smile.

Steve smiles at the cute uncle and niece moment happening in front of him.

“Did you clean your whole room?” Steve asks.

“Yes I did.” You groaned.

Steve stared at you for a second, making sure you’re not lying. He always knows when you’re lying. He gave you your phone back. You snatched it from his hand and left the room. Bucky frowns as he watches the interaction between you and your dad.

“What’s going on between you and Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“We haven’t been getting along.” Steve answers.

“Why?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t know. She won’t tell me anything. It’s like she hates me.” Steve says.

“She doesn’t hate you, man.” Bucky says softly, putting a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Can you talk to her and get her to open up?” Steve asks.

“Of course! I love talking to my niece!” Bucky smiles.

Bucky goes to your room and knocks on the door.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“It’s uncle Bucky. Can I come in?” Bucky asks.

“Yes.” You replied.

Bucky opens the door and walks in your room. He takes a look around your room, seeing stuff a teenager might have in their bedroom.

“Did my dad send you up here to talk to me?” You asked.

“Yes, but I wanted to talk to my favorite niece and goddaughter.” He says with a smile.

“I’m your only niece and goddaughter, uncle Bucky.” You say with a small giggle.

“Point made.” He chuckles.

You sat up against the headboard of your bed and Bucky sat down in front of you.

“What’s going on between you and your dad, doll?” He asks softly.

You shrugged your shoulders and fiddled with your fingers.

“I need a better answer than a shoulder shrug, kiddo.” He says.

“My dad abandoned me and my mom when he went to the Army and he lied about coming home.” You tell him.

“Your dad didn’t abandon you and he didn’t lie.” He says.

“Yes he did.” You said. “It’s like he didn’t want me.” You say.

“Don’t say that, doll.” He almost whispers. “He loves being your dad.” He says softly.

“He sure as hell doesn’t show it. He thought I was dead when he came out of the ice. What kind of parent thinks that his only child is dead?” You say.

“I’m sure he tried his hardest to look for you.” He says.

You shook your head no, refusing to believe it. Bucky seen your eyes tear up.

“Give him a break, doll. He’s trying, but you’re making it hard for him.” Bucky says.

“He’s not trying. He’s not even trying to love me.” You say, your voice cracking.

Tears started to roll down your cheeks. Bucky moved closer to you and wrapped his arms around you.

“Your dad loves you more than anything, doll.” Bucky whispers.

“No he doesn’t. He makes me feel unloved.” You say.

It broke Bucky’s heart to hear you say that.

“Come with me.” He says, standing up.

“Where are we going?” You asked with a sniffle.

“You’re going to talk to Sam. He’s trained for stuff like what you went through.” He says.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked.

“Of course, doll.” He smiles.

———

You are now sitting in the conference room with Bucky and Sam. Bucky told Sam the basics of your feelings towards your dad.

“What makes you think your dad abandoned you when you were a baby?” Sam asks.

“He promised me and my mom he would come home, but he didn’t. He lied.” You say.

“Y/N, you have to understand that nothing was in your dad’s hands back then.” He says.

You nodded and fiddled with your fingers. Your eyes teared up and a tear rolled down your cheek. Bucky put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“What are you thinking right now?” Sam asks softly.

“My dad doesn’t love me.” You say, your voice cracking.

“Yes he does, Y/N.” He says.

“No he doesn’t.” You said in a shaky voice. “Why would he love me if he thought I was dead when he came out of the ice?” You asked.

“He told me he looked all over the place for you, but he kept hitting dead ends. He didn’t want to come to terms if you were dead or not. That seems like love to me.” He says.

You went silent. If that’s true, then why don’t you feel loved by him?

“You need to talk to your dad and tell him how you feel.” Bucky chimes in.

“Do I have to?” You asked, looking at Bucky.

“Yes.” He says.

“Will you stay with me while I talk to him?” You asked.

“This is something you need to do on your own, doll.” He says softly.

“Ok.” You whispered.

Bucky gave you a kiss on the side of your head. You stood up and went to find your dad. You found him in the lounge room, reading a newspaper.

“Dad?” You say nervously.

Steve was caught off guard when you called him dad. Ever since that day at SHIELD, you’ve been addressing him as Steve, not dad. He put his newspaper down and looked at you.

“Can we talk?” You asked.

“Of course we can, sweetheart.” Steve replies softly.

You sat down next to him on the couch.

“I always thought you abandoned me when you enlisted in the Army years ago.” You admitted.

“Why would you even think that that?” He asks. “I would never abandon you.” He says.

“It feels like you did. I also feel unloved by you because of that.” You say.

“Never say that again! I love you more than anything.” He says.

“You don’t show it!” You rose your voice at him and stood up. “You have no idea how unloved I feel, especially when I was in foster care! The couple who adopted me didn’t even know me, but they loved me way more than you ever could!” You say, your eyes tearing up.

You didn’t miss the way your dad clenched his jaw. He stood up. You had a feeling he was going to yell at you for raising your voice at him.

“Do you want to know what my first thought was when I came out of the ice?” Steve asks. “I thought of you and your mom. I looked all over for both of you. I found out your mom died and I couldn’t find you. I tried to think of ways to find you, but I hit a dead end with every idea that came to my mind.” He tells you.

“You thought I was dead!” You say.

“I almost lost Bucky. I lost my wife. I thought I lost you too.” He says.

You stared up at your dad with teary eyes. You were so pissed off at him that you completely forgot that he lost your mom and almost lost his best friend.

“I never want you to say I abandoned you and I don’t love you again. I did nothing but love you since the day you were born.” Steve says softly.

“You- You promised you would come home, but you didn’t! You broke a promise to me and mom!” You cried.

At this point, tears were streaming down your face. Your knees went weak and gave out under you. Steve caught you before you fell to the floor and guided you over to the couch, sitting you down. He sat down next to you. Now, you’re full on crying and so is your dad. Steve’s heart shattered into a million pieces. He hates see you cry and so upset.

“I am so sorry, princess. If I could go back in time and change how things were back then, I would.” He says through tears.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I was so pissed at you that I never thought about what you lost and almost lost. I’m sorry for being a shitty daughter.” You apologized.

“You’re not a shitty daughter, sweetheart. Neither of us could’ve predicted what we went through was going to happen.” He says.

You wanted to say more, but you just continued to cry in your dad’s arms. It’s like being held by your dad for the first time in years made all the anger inside of you fade away. Steve felt guilt bubbling up inside of him even more because of what HYDRA did to his daughter. He can’t go back to the past to fix that. What he can do is never leave his baby again. That’s a promise he’ll never break again.

“I’m never leaving you again, sweetheart. I promise.” Steve promises.

You nodded and sniffled. Yours and his cries stopped after a few minutes.

“I love you, princess.” Steve whispers, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you too, dad.” You whispered back.

“I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” He says softly.

“Anything?” You looked up at him and he nodded. “Can we go to Coney Island?” You asked.

“Of course we can.” He smiles.

Bucky poked his head in the room when he heard Coney Island.

“I swear I wasn’t listening. All I heard was Coney Island.” Bucky says, making you and Steve laugh.

From that moment forward, you and your dad did everything you guys could to repair yours and his father daughter relationship. Yes, you two let Bucky go to Coney Island with you guys. It was the best day all of you had in years.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Idia Shroud - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Mister S's Mystery Shop]

Idia: …Hrrm, I can't find the 15th Anniversary special Star Rogue diorama.

Idia: I told Sam-shi I'd look for it myself, so I wouldn't have to deal with him talking to me, but… There's way too much stuff here to look through!

Idia: And I came all this way 'cause I wasn't fast enough to get it online.

Idia: I can't go back empty-handed after telling Ortho that there's no way I wouldn't get my hands on one as a number one fanboy!

Idia: Oho? This shelf over here has a ton of specialty figures and other hobby stuff… EEHHHH!?

[products fall of shelf]

Idia: OUCH! OW OW OW!!

Jack: Woah!? That was close! Some of the falling goods almost scraped by my nose…

Idia: I-I-I didn't do anything! They just fell off on their own since they were thrown haphazardly onto the shelf!!

[Idia runs away]

Jack: Huh? No one said it was your fault or nothin'…

Jack: …What the, he's already gone! Idia-senpai… He looks slow and frail, but is he secretly actually pretty nimble?

Jack: Oh, man, and he just left everything on the ground. Ugh, I guess I'll have to…

Jack: …Hm? Isn't this box the one Ortho mentioned today…?

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: …Haah. And in the end, I just ran away… Without a Star Rogue diorama…

Idia: It's all because they sold it first-come-first-serve, instead of pre-order... Not my fault what happened earlier…

Idia: If I went back now, that terrifying beast of a man from Savanaclaw might still be there. I'll try again tomorrow…

Idia: K. Now that I've decide that, time to get all the annoying dorm work stuff done!

Idia: Uhhh, so, the notices I have to give the other dorm students are… Oh, right, the equipment replacement schedule, and the AC inspection time.

Idia: Just in case, I'll add "Important", "Good News", "Response Required", and "Read Immediately" to the subject… K, sent.

Idia: It sure is hard work bein' a Housewarden. Thought it's not that bad since I implemented a chat app once I became Housewarden.

Idia: Efficiency above all! No face-to-face meetings! Conserving my own energy is the best way to do things!

Idia: Finished all my Housewarden tasks, and even took a shower, as annoying as it is. I'm awesome. I'd give myself 100,000,000 points out of 100.

Idia: Nice, so… It's finally me time!

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: Ah, I got a message from Ortho… He's spending the night in the first year rooms, huh.

Idia: Then, I guess I can just game all night by myself! Fheeheehee!

 [beep, beep!]

Idia: Hm…? What's with this reminder…? Man, right when I was getting into things.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Idia: Ugh.. Right, that was a thing. You don't really see paper surveys anymore. Let me think, it should be around… Yep, here it is.

Idia: Uhhh, so what, they want to know what I'd like improved? I mean, kinda late to ask a third-year, isn't it? I can't really think of anything.

Idia: Sides, there were stuff I used to not like about the dorm, but I already made upgrades to all that stuff.

Idia: We soundproofed the walls and floors, installed commercial-grade AC, and the dorm-wide servers are of my own technical specs.

Idia: To live the perfect shut-in life, we can't not have walls that can't take loud shouting, or ACs that can't keep overclocked PCs cool, so～

Idia: …Ah, wait a mo'. I just thought of one issue I got. "There's not enough electrical outlets"!!

Idia: This kinda stuff needed specialized qualifications to do, so it's not like I coulda bought the parts and DIY it.

Idia: I'm using a power strip for now 'cause I have to, but I hate how the wiring just looks like spaghetti. Even a master wiring tech like myself can't stand a sight like that!

Idia: Oh, I just thought of one more thing. "I want to have the low-capacity breaker replaced"!

Idia: It's so weak that the breaker flips just 'cause I try to have 4 computers, the server, a 3D printer, microwave, and electric kettle all plugged in at once!

Idia: I mean, I'd set up a UPS (uninterruptible power supply) system in case of emergencies, so my computers and server was fine, but...

Idia: Because of that, my plan to add an AC unit and a refrigerator in my room went out the window. That was a nightmare. Oh, and…

Idia: …Dyehehe. I said I couldn't really think of any, but it's hilarious how the ideas keep flowin' out.

Idia: I'll attach some of the numbers we have on the cost of estimated damages by having Ignihyde students continue to use those useless breakers.

Idia: The Headmage is pretty much influenced by profits, so. If I explain how it's necessary to get better equipment, then he might listen to improvement suggestions.

Idia: Nice, mission clear. Time to watch some new anime episodes while grinding levels in my gams.

Idia: See, nothing beats watching anime while mindlessly leveling… Ooh, I pulled a rare one!

Idia: I thought I'd be bored of this anime 3 episodes in, too, but it's actually starting to get interesting!

Idia: Well, now that the mood's getting good, I just gotta let loose! TIME FOR A SNACK PARTY!!

Idia: …Huh? I'm out of my favorite snack. Ugh, I completely forgot to re-order some more when I ate all of it last time.

Idia: If only the Mystery Shop had 24-hour delivery service… Maybe I should add that to the survey?

Idia: Nah, nevermind, I should just focus on the anime. NOTHING'S GONNA BRING ME DOWN!

Idia: Woah, the animation's clean…! They're all movin' so smoothly… Maybe the production team changed this week?

Idia: I'm getting pretty into the main theme song, too! Heehee, fheeheehee…!

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: Urrghnn… Aaarghh…

[～♪]

Idia: Gah! Urgh, what's that noise…? What time is it right now…?

Idia: Urk! Everything's so bright, I can't see anything… How's it morning already…? Wait, before that, where'd that noise come from…!?

Idia: Huh…? Ortho…? Weren't you spending the night with the other first years…? Oh wait, is this just a message…?

Idia: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY"…? Oh, right, today's my birthday! I completely forgot, since there wasn't anything to look forward to…

Idia: I'll just write back… Thanks, Ortho.

Idia: Urp…! But now I feel a bit sick…! And my whole body hurts…!

Idia: I fell asleep running my games, and I'm just stiff all over. Can't I just go move to my bed and go back to sleep?

Idia: Nah, if I end up crashing and forget to login and get all the birthday login voice lines, I'll never recover. Gotta wash my face or something…

Idia: Woah, I can see how crazy my bedhead is reflected in the monitor! I think this every time, but why does my hair end up this bad whenever I fall asleep at my desk?

Idia: Kinda looks punk, but that's totally a different vibe from my usual, lawl.

Idia: Meh, my hair can be whatever. Not like anyone looks at me, anyway.

Idia: It's a pain to go all the way to the washroom… I'll just use magic like I normally do. I'll chill the water, then.

[splash!]

Idia: WHEEEEW, THAT COLD WATER HITS JUST RIGHT!!

Idia: Normally, I'd just leave it here, but… My face feels so dry after pulling that all-nighter.

Idia: But I'm all good. I'm a functioning nerd, so I know how to fix it.

Idia: Ta-da～ I don't really get it, but here I go with the number one most popular all-in-one cream～

Idia: Putting on lotion and moisturizer one at a time is a waste of time. Just plap it on, and ta-da, done. Next is my clothes…

Idia: Nah, nevermind, I'm not gonna change. Now all I have to do is to jump into all my games and collect the birthday login voice lines. Fheeheehee.

Idia: Perf, I've gotten them all for now. …Huh? There's another message from Ortho…

Idia: …HUH!? HE GOT THE 15TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL STAR ROGUE DIORAMA!? SERIOUSLY!?

Idia: "I was planning on picking it up in the Mystery Shop after classes, but if you can't wait, you can go pick it up whenever"…?

Idia: Well, I gotta go right now, then! That means I have to finish getting ready.

Idia: I don't really wanna go outside, but… I can't keep my poor Star Rogue waiting! Hyah!

[Idia magics hair and clothes]

Idia: K, bedhead fixed. And now, onwards, to the Mystery Shop!!

[Main Street]

Idia: Fheeheehee…! Look at this craftsmanship…! It looks just like the scene I imagined as a kid!

Idia: Ortho… Did you look for this Star Rogue diorama because you knew I was sad I didn't get it?

Idia: Wheew～ The best thing in the world is a little brother who thinks the world of his older brother, and is really good at search functions～!

Jack: Hm? Is that… Idia-senpai? Good morning.

Idia: GYAAAAAA!? J-Jack-shi…? Why are we making contact two days in a row…?

Jack: I mean, it's not really anything, but… I heard from Ortho yesterday that today was your birthday, is all.

[Idia runs away]

Jack: Happy Birthday. So, uh, did you get what you were looking…

Jack: Huh, he's already gone! Ugh, I don't get him at all.

Requested by @farfalla049.

[walkingnearfoxes]

Fall in Love with Me Again. (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Dean coming back from hell is pretty similar to Odysseus returning to Penelope, ain’t it?

Inspired by Epic: The Musical. This is my first Dean fic on here, but the sweet boy has always held a very special place in my dead heart. Apologies if I mess up some canon but in my defense so does the actual show.

Warnings for angst, fluff, and barely contained references to musicals. 

Dean thought Sam attacking him would be the most painful reaction to his return. He was wrong. Your indifference was much worse.

Bobby gave him the address of the apartment. You were living just a few miles away from the old man. The fact that you settled was a shock. You were a hunter - always had been. You grew up alongside the Winchesters - stealing whiskey bottles from your fathers, practicing your aim at every shooting range, learning how to kiss Dean whenever your family’s hunts overlapped in the same shitty town. Dean knew you better than anyone, and no way you would throw away everything you knew for an everyday life. Bobby corrected him.

“She kept up looking for you as long as she could,” He explained, and damn it if Dean didn’t hate how everyone talked to him like he was a ticking time bomb. “But every monster this side of Mississippi was trying to trick her. Demons, shapeshifters, all these bastards wearing your face.”

Dean had to see you as soon as possible.

He barely had the patience to knock on your door, but he managed. He bounced on the heels of his boots in the agonizing seconds it took for you to get to the door. When you finally opened it, his breath left him. So many visions of you in hell, twisted images to torment him. But this is you. It’s really you standing there. You stare back at him, and for perhaps the first time in either of your lives, he can’t read you. 

“Dean?”

“Let me beat you to the punch, okay?” He sputters, worried you might slam the door in his face. He pulls a prepared vial of holy water from one pocket and a silver knife from the other. “I can do all the tests you need me to. I got the guns in the car, too-”

You hold up a hand gently. “Dean, it’s okay. Bobby called me.”

Dean stops. Sure, he didn’t expect you to fall to your knees and cry, but why were you looking at him like he was nothing more than a door-to-door salesperson?

“Oh…that’s good,” He huffs awkwardly, shoving his contents back into his leather pockets. “Yeah. I’m…I’m back, sweetheart.”

You smile as if greeting a server at your table. Dean watches incredulously as you step aside, inviting him into your normie apartment. “Come in.”

Dean carefully follows you. His eyes scan the apartment as you lead him to a circular table in the kitchen. Everything about this house feels stale. There’s no trace of your personality. It’s like you walked into a showroom and picked up every piece of furniture without changing anything. His brows furrow as he obeys your silent gesture to sit at the table. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” You ask him with a lazy wave towards the shitty fridge. “I have a few beers, a vodka seltzer or two…”

He was starting to wish you’d just stabbed him at the front door.

“No, I’m fine,” Dean nods to the chair beside him. “Please just…sit down.”

You sit, but you sit across the table rather than next to him. He clenches his hand into a shaking fist on his lap.

Silence had always been comfortable between you. You spent countless hours on boring surveillance together. You spent even more hours nestled in each other’s arms without saying a word. His thoughts drifted from this damned apartment and to a cold night in West Virginia. He drove the two of you to the outskirts of Harper’s Ferry, where your only company was the forest, the night sky, and one another. For a long while, you had just admired the stars. Then, you made up stupid constellations together. Bobby’s Patio. Sam’s Missing Belt. The Colt if it had Two Triggers. He’d go through hell again if it meant hearing you laugh the way you had that night.

“You look…different,” You say softly.

So do you, Dean thinks, but instead replies, “Different how?”

You slowly look him over, and he resists the urge to squirm. “Your eyes are tired,” You finally answer, your voice barely above a whisper - and he can just detect a sorrow in your voice. 

Dean doesn’t know if you still don’t think it’s him. He doesn’t know if you’re in shock. All he knows is that after everything he had been through, after everything he lost, he needs you. He needs you to know that it’s him, and that you won’t leave.

Slowly, he reaches over for your hand. His breath hitches when you don’t pull away. His calloused fingers gently squeeze your soft skin as he finds the bravery to speak. “Sweetheart…it’s me. It’s really me. But I’m not the same person I was.”

Your impassive stare breaks a bit, the tension in your shoulders lessening. “What do you mean?”

He looks down at the table, tracing the patterns of the wood. “The things I did down there…” He closes his eyes and tightens his grip on your hand like a lifeline. “I did what I had to do to survive. It was the only thing I could do. I wish I didn’t remember it, sweetheart. I wish…I shouldn’t be here right now. After what I’ve done, I don’t deserve you.”

Your thumb tentatively brushes over the back of his hand. “Dean…”

“But I’m a selfish son of a bitch,” He looks up to meet your gaze, tears just testing his restraint. “I’m not the man you knew…I’m not the man you fell in love with. But I need to know…I need to know I still have you. I need to know you can fall in love with me again.”

You’re silent for a moment, your eyes measuring his face. Finally, with a slight squeeze of his hand, you speak. “Dean…I’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again,” You gently bite your bottom lip. “But I’ve been tricked so many times…I need to be sure it’s you.”

Dean’s eyes widen as he nods eagerly. “I’ll do anything.”

You nod, and then slowly reach underneath your shirt. You reveal a necklace hidden under your collar. It’s a simple silver chain that ends in a small pendant of an oak tree. You gently tug at it so it breaks, and hold it out to him in your palm. You look at it momentarily, and then up at his face. “Throw this out.”

Dean lets go of your other hand, his face bewildered. “What?”

You blink, then arch your brows at him. “What? It’s a pretty easy task. There’s a trash can right there-”

“I don’t care about the damn trash can,” He snaps as he stands up angrily from his chair. “The hell’s wrong with you?! You think I forgot about that pendant?”

Your expression is bewildered as you slowly stand up along with him. “Dean, it’s just a necklace.”

He looks at you as if you’ve struck him. “I bought that for you. You know what it means.”

Your eyes narrow. “What does it mean?”

He’s too hurt by all of this to question your sudden memory loss. Instead, he rages. “You told me that tree looked just like the one in Bobby’s backyard. And it damn well does. We were climbing that stupid tree when you said you loved me for the first time.”

He doesn’t notice how your hand tightens around the necklace, or how your eyes water.

“You told me you’d die before you threw away that necklace!” Dean snaps. “I’m not gonna throw it out just ‘cause you’ve lost your damn mind-”

You’re suddenly jumping into his arms. He stumbles backwards from its force, body stiff in shock as you curl your limbs around him like a koala. It takes him a moment to realize you’re fully crying, and then he’s immediately wrapping his arms around you. He holds you as tightly as he can allow as your face buries against the side of his neck. He says nothing, too stunned and relieved at once to form a thought. 

“I’m sorry,” You whisper shakily against his neck. “I’m so sorry. I had to be sure it was really you. You’re the only one who would’ve known all of that.”

“That was all a test?” Dean asks, his hand unsonciously cupping the back of your head. 

You nod, drawing your head back to look at him. “You said yourself you’re not the same man.”

He wants to kiss away the tears running down your cheeks, but he shakes his head instead. “I’m not, sweetheart. If you knew what I’ve done-”

“I don’t care what you’ve done.” You reach up to cup the side of his face. “I don’t care how long it’s been.”

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes falling shut as your voice breaks him.

“If you want me to fall in love with you again, I will. Over and over again.” You whisper. “But I’ve never stopped. I never will. I’ve been waiting for you, and I know who you are.”

Dean kisses you. He kisses you with tears on his face, his hands cupping your cheeks. You kiss him back, and for the first time in years, Dean can feel himself calm. 

He doesn’t know how much time he passed before he finally pulls away, but only so he can look into your eyes. They’re the same eyes he fell in love with all those years ago, and the same eyes that will steal his heart time and time again.

“I love you,” He whispers.

Your loving smile nearly breaks him again. “I love you, too.”

[emdoesstufff]

My Bistro Huddy Headcanons

Bradley "Brad" Milin (27) - He's half Cuban, (his mom was Cuban and his dad was a rich white guy) and he moved to LA when he was four. His parents were never married and his mom and stepdad got married when they moved to California. And it's canon that he grew up rich so I think he would visit his father and just use his money. He started working with Bistro Huddy when he was 20 and it was new. He met Nicole a month later and brought her on the team.

Nicole Kravinsky (26) - She was born in LA and moved out of her parents house when she was 18, and she went to a tiny town in Indiana to live a new life. She dated a guy there and when it didn't work out she moved back in with her parents. She met Brad and he mentioned that his work was hiring. And the rest is history.

Aaron Jaccobs (23) - He was born in Wyoming and raised Jewish. He moved to LA for college and he went to a film school. After he graduated he couldn't find a job in the film industry and he bounced back from job to job for years. When he was 25 he found Bistro Huddy and has been working there ever since. Having a stable job helped him reconnect with his parents and he got more in touch with being Jewish.

Bridgette Cooper (24) - She was raised by her very Scottish grandmother in Sacramento. When she graduated college she met her boyfriend Peter and he got her a job at a nice office that paid her well. When Peter did some things at that job, they had to quit and moved to LA. She started working for Bistro Huddy and she supports both of them now. Amber tells her every day when she walks in to break up with her boyfriend, but Bridgette always says she had to take care of him.

Terrance "Terry" Oliver (47) - He was born and raised in Texas and he lived in one house with his entire extended family. He worked on his dad's farm, he played highschool football, and he was on set to go to college with money his parents had saved up for him. When he was 17 he came out as gay and his grandmother demanded he be kicked out. He traveled to California when he was 34 and he met a 23 year old Clint. They dated secretly for two years before breaking up and Terry moved to LA. When he was 36 he met the current owner of Bistro Huddy and worked his way through until he was the manager. When he was 41 Clint showed up to interview for bartender. Terry gave him the job and they became friends (or maybe more). He won't tell anyone but he loves all the servers like they were his kids.

Joseph "Joey" Miller (39) - He's from LA and was "raised" by his uncle. His uncle was very old and sickly and Joey took care of him until he was 19 and his uncle died. He went to culinary school and he was sure he was going to end up as a world renowned chef. When he was 21, he had no place to live, a pregnant girlfriend, no money, and a culinary degree he had to put in good use. He practically forced Terry to give him a line cook job and he quickly worked his way to executive chef. When his son was 2, he divorced his first wife and met his second wife, who had a 13 year old son named Nico. His mom wasn't around a lot so Joey taught Nico how to cook so he could take care of himself. He divorced Nico's mom when he was 17 and kind of forgot about Nico. Two years later Terry introduced the owners nephew who would be a new line cook. Joey will tell no one that Nico was once his stepson.

Samuel "Sam" "Pickles" Brockton (21) - He was born in LA and Joey hates that they have that similarity. He was raised by both of his parents and they got him a job as a dishwasher at Bistro Huddy when he was 16. He hated the job so much that he finally came out as bisexual to his parents in hopes they might kick him out or something. They were actually very supportive of him and he continued to work there. One day when Nico quit for the second time, Joey needed someone to cut vegetables for him and he brought Sam over to do it. He found that he actually really enjoyed the kitchen environment and once Nico came back he asked to be promoted to line cook. He hasn't told anyone but he has dreams of becoming executive chef one day.

Nicolas "Nico" Menundez-Miller (29) - Nico was born in Mexico and raised in San Francisco. His dad died when he was 6. For seven years he had a paper route, walked dogs, mowed lawns, and did all kinds of of jobs to help his struggling mother out. When he was 13 him and his mom moved to LA when she married his new stepfather. His mom had to work all the time to make enough money to survive and he spent most of his time with Joey. He took Nico took his work and taught him how to cook so he could take care of himself when no one else was around. Four years later Joey and his mom divorced and him and his mom moved in with his uncle. After he graduated highschool, his uncle got him a job at the restaurant he owned. He quits about once a month and he promised to never tell anyone that Joey is his ex- stepfather.

Ruby Warner (24) - She was born in Germany and lived there until she was 10. Her family then moved to New York City and her dad opened a restaurant. He became pretty famous in the city for his food. By the time she was 12, Ruby got rid of her accent completely so she could no longer be bullied. When she showed interest in being a chef, her father began teaching her how to cook and sent her to a prestigious culinary school in California when she was 18. Afraid to tell her father she couldn't find work, she stayed in California and worked a couple part time jobs. When she was 21, her mom called and told her that her father had died. After that she became determined to find work as a cook and she eventually got hired at Bistro Huddy.

Kalina "Amber" Jones (32) - She's from Georgia where she was passed around in the foster care system. When she was 15, one of her foster families moved to LA she was dragged along. A month later they gave her up and since she wasn't in the California foster system yet, she ended up getting lost and had to move in with a friend she had just met. Their family ended up taking care of her and helped her get into college where she pursued a law degree because she knew she could make enough money to support himself. After she graduated she worked at a law firm for quite a few years. When she was 29 she had had enough of the job she had and applied for the hostess position at Bistro Huddy. She's had a crush on Joey at most the whole time she's worked there, but since he was older than her and she knew he had a lot of family problems, she started away.

Telcinto "Clint" Marcello (36) - His mother was Polynesian and his father was Korean. They moved to Guatemala after they married and Telcinto was born. He lived there for 15 years before they sent him to California to live with his aunt. After living there for years he met Terry. He still spoke little English but enjoyed being around him. Terry gave him the nickname Clint. After dating for two years, they broke up when Clint wanted to go back to Guatemala to find his parents. Once he got there he learned that his parents had birth died of alcohol poisoning a few years ago. He fell into a deep depression and developed a drinking habit himself. He moved back to California and got into therapy. He decided to become a bartender and give a positive view on alcohol instead of what he had. When he went to interview at Bistro Huddy, Terry ended up being the manager there. A few years later and he was still working there and still friend with Terry (wink wink).

Patrick "Trick" Miller (18) - His mother moved from Japan and met his father in LA. When he was 2 his mom and dad divorced and he didn't see his father for a good seven years. When he was 6 he learned that his father had a stepson and he resented him for leaving him for another kid. When he was 15 he dropped out of school and needed money and somewhere to live. He decided to go to his father who gave him money and allowed him to live with him. After a few months he couldn't stand living with his dad anymore and he moved out but keep kept in touch to keep his money incoming. When he got arrested for stealing from a seven eleven he borrowed a suit from his dad and somehow ended up becoming a busser at Bistro Huddy.

[acrinyx]

TWST Bartender AU

It came to me in a vision and now I can't stop. Let's get into it.

Yuu has just moved to a new city and needs to find work so that they can pay for Grim's college/university and stumbles across a small local bar called Sam's, but also a higher end restaurant called the Mostro Lounge. They end up working at both locations and meet a bunch of interesting people that they start to call family (and low key gets a harem that will kill for them lol).

Cue relationship dramas, therapy, threats of violence, shitty nighttime bar lighting, underpaying employees, workplace harassment, and sleep deprivation.

At some point there will be a cliche plotline about the bar being under threat of being bought/shut down/going out of business and everyone chips in together power of friendship, alcohol, and free therapy blah blah blah

I already got some roles for the characters in mind so here's my completely unfiltered thoughts (everyone is at least 21 or older except Grim and Ortho)

Yuu: Not getting paid enough for everyone's bullshit they deal with on the regular, but every time they think about quitting they think about Grim and giving him the opportunity they never had growing up

Grim (18): Starting his freshman year of college/university at Night Raven College going in undecided. He may act annoying and an ungrateful little shit, wasting time partying in stead of studying, he really does try his best in school and make his older sibling proud

Ace: Yuu's coworker at both Sam's AND the Mostro Lounge. Annoying little prick but he cares and somehow has regulars that really like his company. Yuu does not like him at all at first, but they slowly become friends and vent out all the frustration they both have hearing people complain about their lives on the regular

Deuce: Either police trainee or burnt out college student that comes in frequently. When he meets Yuu for the first time, he's wondering where Ace is and he and Yuu get to talking and become friends by shit talking the redhead (yes I am going to ship adeuce adeuce nation rise up)

Sam: Owner of the local bar. Yuu thought he was kind of strange, but they'd slowly grown to appreciate his presence and wackiness

Crewel: A professor at NRC who looks very out of place in the dimly lit, arguably dirty bar with his big fur coat and silver teaching pointer. He's been going there since he was a student when Sam first opened up the bar

Azul: Owner of the Mostro Lounge in the city. It's his family's business but he owns that restaurant and will eventually inherit everything. There's a bit of an overwhelming pressure to take out any other competition

Jade: A bartender + bouncer for the Mostro Lounge. He's a bit threatening to Yuu but slowly softens a bit around them, realizing that they're just trying to survive like the rest of us in this economy

Floyd: A server + bouncer for the Mostro Lounge. He was never as threatening as Jade, but he was scary when he wanted to be. Yuu was never as offput by his threats since Floyd and Ace are friends

I haven't really gotten around to the others but here are the regulars at each bar respectively (not including who works there) Sam's: Deuce Epel Jack Sebek Silver Lilia Idia Ortho Ruggie Trey Crewel Trein Vargas Ernesto + Gino Skully (I gotta learn his character more so maybe?) Grim

Mostro Lounge: Riddle Vil Rook Kalim Jamil Leona Cater Malleus Crowley Rollo

I can't get this out of my head y'all I can see everything falling into place and all the oneshots and fics and AAAAAAHHHH-

[nameless-ken]

Bucky Barnes x Reader - part three

The Stranger That Knows Me Best is a heartfelt story about connection, vulnerability, and taking chances on the unexpected. Two introverts discover that sometimes, the person who understands you best is the one you’ve never met.

part one | part two

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: lots of angst, mentions of drinking

Masterlist

The bar is faintly lit and alive with the various conversations and the occasional burst of laughter from the happy drunk patrons. You step inside with Bucky, a bluesy guitar riff spilling out from a corner where a live band plays, instantly aiding a laid-back atmosphere.

Sam waves you over from a booth near the corner, a broad grin on his face. “About time you two showed up! I was starting to think Barnes was going to keep you all to himself.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, his hand lightly grazing your back as he guides you toward the table. “Relax, Wilson. We’re here, aren’t we?”

Sam’s eyes flick between the two of you, his grin widening. “Oh, I see how it is. Keeping me waiting because you’re too busy whispering sweet nothings to each other.”

You feel your cheeks heat up but you play it off with a laugh. 

“Yeah, sure, Sam. Because that’s definitely what we were doing.” Bucky remarks.

Sam winks. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m just saying, I’ve never seen Bucky willingly spend this much time with anyone who isn’t me.”

Bucky groans, sliding into the booth across from Sam. “Can we not do this right now?”

You scoot in beside him, hiding a smile as Sam leans back, clearly enjoying himself.

A server stops by and takes your drink orders—Sam goes for a beer, Bucky sticks with whiskey, and you pick something light, wanting to pace yourself.

As the night progresses, Sam keeps the jokes flowing, dragging stories out of Bucky about their time working at a fast food place together when they were sixteen. You laugh as Sam recounts the story of Bucky accidentally setting the fryer on fire during their second week on the job.

“I swear,” Sam says between bursts of laughter, “he tried to play it cool, but the man was freaking out. And don’t even get me started on how he tried to convince the manager it was faulty equipment.”

Bucky groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, first of all, it was faulty. Second, you’re leaving out the part where you spilled an entire milkshake machine.”

Sam waves his hand dismissively. “Details. Besides, I wasn’t the one who got banned from ever touching the fryer again.”

You lean into Bucky, grinning. “So, no fry duty for you, huh?”

He shakes his head, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Nope. I was stuck flipping burgers for the rest of the summer. Sam, on the other hand, got promoted to register duty because the manager thought he was charming.”

“Charming is one way to put it,” you shoot Sam a playful look.

“Hey, don’t hate the player,” Sam quips, raising his beer in a mock toast.

As the drinks continue and more stories are shared, Sam leans forward, his gaze flicking between you and Bucky again. “So, when are you two gonna stop pretending this is just casual?”

Bucky chokes slightly on his drink, shooting Sam a glare. “Wilson—”

“What?” Sam says innocently, though his smirk betrays him. “I’m just saying. You’ve got this whole broody, mysterious thing going on, and she clearly doesn’t scare easily. It’s a match made in Brooklyn.”

You’re about to say something to deflect Sam’s relentless teasing when the door to the bar opens. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the way Bucky’s demeanor shifts. His posture stiffens, the easy smile he’s been wearing vanishes and his jaw tightens.

“Uh-oh,” Sam mutters, his expression sobering as he follows Bucky’s line of sight.

“What?” you question, glancing between them.

Sam leans in, lowering his voice. “Looks like trouble just walked in.”

You turn toward the door, your eyes landing on a woman weaving her way through the bar. She’s striking, the kind of person who turns heads without even trying. Her confidence is palpable, but there’s something sharp about her presence, something that instantly feels out of place in the warm, easygoing atmosphere of the bar.

The moment she spots Bucky, her lips curve into a smirk and she heads straight for your table.

Sam mutters under his breath, “Here we go.”

Bucky doesn’t move—he just watches her approach, his face unreadable, though you can feel the tension radiating off him.

“Bucky Barnes,” she says when she reaches the table, her voice smooth but laced with something malicious. “Of all the places to run into you.”

Bucky’s grip tightens on his glass as he addresses her. “Natalie.”

Natalie tilts her head, her gaze sweeping over him before briefly flicking to you. Her eyes linger for a second before she looks back at Bucky. “Didn’t expect to see you here. What’s it been, a year? Two?”

“Closer to three,” Bucky’s voice is devoid of the warmth you’ve come to know.

“Right,” her smirk widens. “Time flies, doesn’t it?”

Sam clears his throat, drawing her attention. “Hey, Natalie. Long time no see.”

“Sam,” she acknowledges, though her focus quickly shifts back to Bucky. “You look good, Buck. Brooklyn’s still treating you well, I see.”

Bucky doesn’t respond. The tension is thick enough to cut and you feel like an intruder in a conversation you don’t understand.

Natalie crosses her arms, her tone turning softer but no less sharp. “I heard about your mom. I meant to reach out, but…” She trails off with a shrug that feels anything but sincere.

Bucky’s expression darkens and you notice the way his hand tightens into a fist at his side.

“Don’t,” he states, his voice low but firm.

Natalie raises an eyebrow, her smirk faltering for the first time. “Alright. Just thought I’d say hi.” She glances at you again, her smile colder this time. “Nice meeting you… whoever you are.”

Without getting to introduce yourself, she turns and walks away, her heels clicking against the floor as she disappears into the crowd.

The table is silent for a moment, the air stale from her presence. Sam is the first to speak. “Well, that was fun.”

Bucky sinks back into his seat, he rolls his shoulders back as if he’s trying to expel the tension, his gaze stays fixed on his drink.

You hesitate before leaning closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he answers but the clipped tone tells you otherwise.

Sam, trying to diffuse the awkwardness, offers a quiet out. “We don’t have to stay, you know.”

Bucky shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “No, I’m not letting her ruin the night. Let’s just… forget about it.”

Sam nods, though he still looks uneasy.

You don’t press further, but as the night wears on, you notice the way Bucky stays more withdrawn, his usual quietness taking on an edge of distraction.

Later, when the three of you step outside into the chilly night air, you fall into step beside him.

“Bucky,” you grab his arm gently. “If you want to talk about it… I’m here.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed ahead. But after a moment, he looks down at you, his eyes softer than they’ve been all night. “Thanks,” he murmurs, the single word carrying more weight than you expected.

After you say goodbye to Sam and promise a happier redo of your interrupted night another time, you continue walking. The streets are quieter as the night grows and the sounds from the bar fade. Suddenly, Bucky stops walking, looks around for a second before grabbing your hand in his. 

“I have another place I want to show you.” You don’t ask where–you trust him as he leads the way. 

Eventually, you reach a tucked-away rooftop garden atop an old industrial building. It’s quiet, peaceful, with fairy lights strung along the edges of the space and a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The East River glimmers below, reflecting the lights of Manhattan.

Bucky gestures toward a bench near the edge of the rooftop. “Figured you could use a breather after all that.”

You sit down, taking in the view. “This is beautiful.” 

Bucky leans against the railing, his gaze distant. “This place used to be more popular but now not many people know about this spot. It’s… kind of my escape.”

You watch him for a moment, noticing the tension in his jaw and the way his fingers tap restlessly against the railing. “Do you come here often?”

He nods. “Whenever it feels like the walls are closing in. It’s easier to think up here. Or not think at all.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “Were you thinking about her tonight? Natalie.”

His lips press into a thin line and for a moment you think he’s going to brush it off. But then he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. She’s… a reminder of a lot of things I’d rather forget.”

He sits beside you on the bench, his gaze fixed on the skyline. “After my mom passed, I wasn’t in a good place. Natalie and I broke up right before it happened. She didn’t know how to handle it—hell, I didn’t either. But instead of trying to be there for me, she… bailed. Made me feel like I was too much. Like my grief was too heavy for her.”

Your heart aches, wondering how someone can have so little compassion. “That’s not your fault, Bucky. She wasn’t strong enough to be there for you, but that doesn’t mean you were too much.”

He glances at you, his blue eyes reflecting the city lights. “Maybe. But it still messed with me, you know? Made me wonder if it’s even worth letting people in.”

You sit quietly, letting his words settle between you. After a moment, you speak up, “I get it. It’s scary to open up, to risk getting hurt. But you don’t have to go through everything alone. You don’t deserve to carry all that by yourself.”

Bucky looks at you then, really looks at you. He leans in, his face inches from yours, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips. For a heartbeat, it feels like the world stops—like the city has gone silent, leaving just the two of you in this rooftop oasis.

But then, he pulls back abruptly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, standing and turning away from you.

You blink, the moment shattered. “Bucky…”

“It’s not you,” he says quickly, his voice strained. “I just… I can’t.”

You stand, stepping closer but keeping enough distance to give him space. “It’s okay,” you say gently. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

He turns to you, the conflict in his face evident. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You won’t,” you say simply, holding his gaze.

For a long moment, neither of you say anything. You sit back on the bench, and after a moment’s hesitation, he joins you again. The two of you sit in silence, the city stretching out before you, the skyline holding everything left unsaid.

You wake up early to the weight of the previous night pressing down on you, making you a little nervous to see Bucky. 

The memory of the bar, of Bucky pulling away, of the almost-kiss, plays over and over in your mind. After the rooftop, after the vulnerability, after feeling like you’d both connected in a way that felt real and intense... there's a disconnect now. A distance between you two that wasn't there before.

You sit up in bed, trying to shake the haze of sleep, your mind still replaying the conversation. The way Bucky opened up about his ex—just enough to let you see the cracks in his armor—and the way he’d pulled back, retreating into himself. You understand the walls he’s built around his heart, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

You rub your eyes, standing up from the guest bed and walking out toward the kitchen. You can hear Bucky moving around in the next room as you walk down the hallway, the sound of water running in the bathroom.

When he emerges, he’s in his sweatpants, hair still tousled from sleep. He gives you a quiet nod but his eyes don’t quite meet yours. 

“Morning,” you greet tentatively, unsure how to break the awkward silence between you.

Bucky responds with a soft grunt, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. He doesn’t look at you as he takes a drink.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “About last night…” you begin, but you don’t know where to go from there. You want to reach out but you don’t want to push him away further.

Bucky finally turns to you, but his expression is guarded, his eyes distant. “I’m not ready for this. For whatever this is between us.”

Your stomach drops and you swallow hard, the words stinging more than you expected. “I know,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. “But I don’t understand why you pulled away. I thought we were getting closer.”

He clenches his jaw, looking torn. He paces slightly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I do want it. More than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. But I’m...I don’t know how to be that guy. Not after everything.”

The vulnerability in his voice makes your heart ache for him, but his words hurt just the same. You can feel him pulling away from you, emotionally. There’s an invisible wall that wasn’t there before.

“I know you’re scared, Bucky,” you say softly. “But I’m not asking you to be perfect. I just want you to be honest with me.”

He meets your gaze, his eyes filled with turmoil, but then they flicker down to the floor. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort of holding himself together. “I don’t know how to let anyone in like that again,” he admits quietly. “Not after everything with Natalie. I let myself get hurt... and I don’t want to do that again.”

You move closer to him, cautiously but he takes a step back, shaking his head. The distance between you feels like an abyss now. “I get it,” you say, your voice trembling a little. “I do. But you don’t have to push me away. I’m not her, Bucky. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He finally meets your eyes again. “But you are,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re leaving next week.”

You reach out, your hand hovering near his, unsure if he’ll let you touch him. When he doesn’t pull away, you slowly place your hand on his arm. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels like a lifeline.

“I’m here, Bucky, right now.” you whisper, your eyes never leaving his. “I know it’s been hard. It’s hard for me too. After all these months and finally meeting in person, I’ve never felt this connected to someone before. Yes it’s scary and terrifying. We all have a past but why let that ruin what’s right in front of you?”

Bucky stands there for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, a battle raging inside him. You can see the conflict. Finally, he sighs, his shoulders slumping as he steps back and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I’m ready. I’m sorry.”

You nod, though your heart aches from the distance between you. “Okay,” you whisper. “I understand.”

The silence stretches as Bucky turns away to grab his jacket, you realize that despite all the progress you’ve made, there’s still so much he needs to heal from—so much that he hasn’t let go of yet. You want to be there for him, but you also wonder how much longer you can wait for him to come to terms with his past.

Bucky walks through the streets of Brooklyn, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, a pensive expression taking over his face. The city is alive around him—cars rushing by, people moving with purpose—but he feels detached from it all.

His thoughts are a tangled mess, looping endlessly between the past and the present. His mother’s face flickers in his mind, her warmth, her kindness. The way she always believed in him, even when he felt like he wasn’t worth believing in. Losing her had been the beginning of everything unraveling. And then there was Natalie—her presence had been a wildfire in his life, bright and consuming, but in the end, it had only left him burned.

And now, after three years of silence, she’s back.

Seeing her again last night rattled him more than he wanted to admit. The past always finds a way of creeping up when he least expects it and Natalie is living proof of that. He thought he had buried that part of his life, convinced himself he was better off alone.

But then there’s you—the one person who he let slip past all his defenses.

Seven months. That’s how long you’ve been in his life. And in those months, through nothing but words and carefully chosen gifts, you had found your way into the parts of himself he had sworn to keep locked away. Last night on the rooftop had been the closest he’d come to letting someone in again. The way you looked at him, the way your hand had hovered over his, waiting for him to decide—it terrified him. Because he wanted it. He wants you. And wanting someone meant opening himself up to be crushed all over again.

He wasn’t sure if he could survive that a second time.

The more he walks, the more suffocated he feels by the weight of his own emotions. So he does his usual routine when things get too heavy.

He runs from them and drowns himself in his sorrows.

Bucky slouches at the bar, the soft lighting casting shadows over his face. His fingers wrap around another glass of whiskey, the burn sliding down his throat. He’s lost count of how many he’s had, but the haze creeping into his mind tells him it’s been enough.

The alcohol numbs the storm raging inside of him, dulls the sharp edges of his thoughts. But it doesn’t erase them. He wishes it did.

The bartender eyes him warily, probably wondering if he should cut him off, but before anything can be said, a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here again so soon.”

Bucky tenses. He knows that voice. 

Natalie.

He doesn’t turn right away, staring into his half-empty glass, as if he can will her away by ignoring her. But she doesn’t take the hint. She slides into the seat next to him, ordering herself a drink like she belongs there. Like no time has passed.

“You look like you’ve had a rough night,” she muses, stirring her drink with the tip of her straw. “Or is it a rough life?”

Bucky exhales sharply, finally turning to her. His vision is blurry, the whiskey having done its job. Natalie’s face is softer than he remembers, her dark eyes studying him like she can still read him as easily as she used to.

“What do you want?” His voice is rough, tired.

Natalie tilts her head, giving him that same playful smirk she used to. “Come on, Bucky. Can’t I just want to talk?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Since when have you ever just wanted to talk?”

She leans in closer, the scent of her perfume hitting him all at once. It’s the same scent from before—a ghost from a life he’s tried to forget. The alcohol makes his head swim.

She touches his arm, her fingers light and familiar. “You know, I’ve missed you.”

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move.

And then she’s kissing him.

At first, he barely registers it. His body feels heavy, his mind a fog. He doesn’t push her away. Maybe because he doesn’t have the strength to. Maybe because, for a second, it’s easier to give in than to keep fighting against everything crashing down inside his mind.

And then—

“Bucky?”

A voice. Your voice.

Bucky blinks, the world tilting slightly as he pulls back, his lips tingling from where Natalie’s had been. He looks up and sees you standing there, eyes wide, hurt etched into every part of your expression.

Beside you, Sam stands stiffly, his jaw tight with disappointment.

Shit.

Natalie smirks, sitting back like she just won something.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say. His mind is too fogged with whiskey, his body too slow to react. But he sees the way your face falls, the way you swallow hard, like you’re forcing yourself to keep it together.

“I was looking for you,” you say, your voice quieter now. “I thought—” You stop yourself, shaking your head. “Doesn’t matter.”

Sam steps in, exhaling sharply. “Come on, man. Let’s get you home before you make more of a mess of things.”

Bucky doesn’t resist when Sam grabs his arm, hauling him to his feet. His legs feel unsteady beneath him. He chances one more look at you, but you’ve already turned away, blinking rapidly like you’re trying not to cry.

And it hits him, then—he’s fucked up.

Getting Bucky back to his apartment is a quiet affair. He barely remembers the walk home, his mind swimming between the whiskey and the weight of what he’s done.

You don’t say a word. You don’t look at him.

Once inside, Sam guides him toward the couch, sighing as he helps him sit. “Sleep it off,” he mutters, clearly pissed. “And when you wake up, figure out what the hell you really want before you hurt her more than you already have.”

Bucky doesn’t answer. He just stares at the floor, stomach twisting with guilt.

You, on the other hand, disappear down the hall. You don’t check on him. You don’t ask if he’s okay. Instead, you close yourself off in the guest room, the sound of the door clicking shut feeling final.

Inside, you collapse onto the bed, burying your face into the pillow. The tears come before you can stop them, silent and hot against your skin.

This wasn’t how this trip was supposed to go.

You thought you were here to connect. To build something real. Romantic or not, you thought this was important. That you were important to him.

But tonight had shown you that no matter how much you wanted to be there for Bucky, you couldn’t let him hurt you in the process.

And as you cry yourself to sleep, you wonder if maybe... maybe this trip is already falling apart.

Bucky wakes up to a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and the unmistakable feeling that he’s done something really, really stupid. His memories from the night before are hazy, but flashes of the bar, the whiskey burning his throat, and then—Natalie. His stomach churns as he sits up in bed, trying to piece it together.

The apartment is silent. No sign of you.

Then he hears voices—Sam’s voice, low and firm, from the kitchen. Bucky rubs a hand over his face, bracing himself as he stumbles out of bed and into the hall.

Sam stands in the kitchen, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. “You look like hell,” he says.

Bucky groans, grabbing a bottle of water from the counter. “Thanks.”

“You remember what happened last night?” Sam asks, and his tone tells Bucky all he needs to know.

He swallows hard. “Not...everything.”

Sam scoffs. “Well, let me remind you. We found you at the bar—making out with Natalie.”

Bucky’s grip tightens around the bottle. His stomach drops. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.” Sam shakes his head. “She saw, man. She saw everything.”

Bucky looks toward the closed guest room door, his chest tightening. “Where is she?”

“Locked herself in there after we got you home.” Sam sighs. “She was upset. Hurt. And I don’t blame her.”

Bucky looks away, shame settling deep in his bones. “I didn’t mean to…”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t mean to what? Get drunk and let your ex suck you back in? You’re the one who keeps saying you’re not ready for anything, but that girl in there—she’s been trying. She’s been patient with you.” He shakes his head. “And you go and do this?”

Bucky stays quiet, guilt gnawing at him.

“You need to fix this,” Sam says simply before walking past him, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts.

You wake up feeling hollow. Your eyes are heavy from the restless night, your body sluggish as you force yourself out of bed.

You face the day anyway, pulling yourself together as best you can. You quietly slip out of the guest room, careful not to make too much noise. The last thing you want is to run into Bucky. But as soon as you step into the living room, you freeze.

Bucky is already there, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. The sight of him—his slumped shoulders—makes you feel sad for the way he is feeling, wanting to help him through it but you can’t shake off the sadness in your own body.

The moment he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes meet yours, his blue eyes popping against the redness surrounding the beautiful irises. 

Your pulse stutters, but you force yourself to keep moving. You hastily grab your jacket and shoes, fingers fumbling more than they should.

Bucky stands up slowly, hesitant. “Can we talk?” His voice sounds rough from the after effects of the alcohol. 

You shake your head, keeping your gaze firmly on the floor. “Not right now.”

He exhales sharply, like he wants to fight it, wants to make you stay. But he doesn’t. He just nods and sinks back down onto the couch.

You don’t say another word as you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you shut the door behind you.

You don’t know where you’re going, only that you need to walk. To breathe. To clear your head.

You make it a few blocks before the weight of everything threatens to crush you.

Without thinking, you pull out your phone and call the one person who will understand.

Wanda.

She picks up on the second ring. “Hey, you! How’s the city? Tell me everything—” Her voice is warm, excited, and it makes your chest tighten painfully.

“I—” Your voice breaks before you can even get the words out.

Instantly, her tone shifts. “What happened?”

You swallow hard, sitting down on a bench near a small café, gripping your phone like it’s a lifeline. “It’s Bucky,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda’s quiet for a beat, then she sighs. “Okay. Tell me everything.”

So you do.

You tell her about the bar, about how Natalie showed up, about how Bucky disappeared afterward. About how you searched for him, only to find him tangled up with his ex in a dark corner of the bar. How Sam had to help you get him home. How you locked yourself in the guest room, crying yourself to sleep, feeling more lost than ever.

Wanda, who has been silent the entire time, finally speaks. “That absolute idiot.”

Despite everything, you let out a weak, watery laugh. “Yeah.”

“I mean, I knew he had some emotional walls up, but this?” Wanda scoffs. “That’s next-level self-sabotage. What the hell was he thinking?”

“He wasn’t,” you say quietly. “That’s the problem.”

Wanda sighs again, softer this time. “Are you okay?”

You close your eyes, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t know.”

“That’s fair,” she says gently. “But listen to me—you didn’t deserve that. You have been there for him for the past what, like seven months, and he just—he just threw it away.”

“I don’t think he meant to,” you murmur, feeling the need to defend him. “He’s just… scared.”

“Scared or not, he still hurt you,” Wanda says firmly. “And that’s not okay.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. “I know.”

A pause. Then—“Do you want to come home?”

The question catches you off guard. Do you?

You swallow hard, considering it. You could leave now, book an early flight back to Oregon. Escape this mess before it gets any worse.

But then you think about Bucky. About the past seven months. About the way he looked at you last night, like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know how.

You shake your head. “No. Not yet.”

“Are you sure?” Wanda’s voice is laced with concern. “Because if you say the word, I’ll book you the next flight myself.”

You let out a small breath, touched by her unwavering support. “I just… I need to figure this out first.”

“Okay,” she says, though you can hear the hesitation in her voice. “But promise me one thing?”

“What?”

“If he keeps breaking your heart, don’t stick around to let him do it again.”

You close your eyes, nodding. “I promise.”

Bucky hates the silence between you. He hates the way you won’t meet his eyes—the way the air between you feels colder than it did when you were hundreds of miles apart.

For the first time in a long time, he realizes what real fear feels like. Not the fear of getting hurt, but the fear of losing someone who actually matters.

Natalie doesn’t matter like this.

You do.

And he’s afraid he’s already ruined it.

That night, after pacing the length of his apartment, after running through every possible thing he could say, Bucky finds himself in front of the guest room door. His hand hovers over the wood for what feels like an eternity before he forces himself to knock.

There’s a pause. A hesitation. Then, the door cracks open.

“Please,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just talk to me.”

You hesitate, your expression unreadable as you lean against the frame, arms crossed tightly over your chest. There’s no warmth in your posture, no hint of the connection you once shared so easily.

“What is there to talk about, Bucky?” Your voice is calm, but he can hear the hurt beneath it. And it kills him.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I messed up.”

“Yeah,” you say, sharper than you intend. “You did.”

He exhales, the weight of your words settling deep in his chest. “I don’t have an excuse. I was drunk, I was an idiot, and I—I let my past mess with my head.” His voice falters. “But none of that changes the fact that I care about you.”

You flinch at his words, and he sees the way you tighten your grip around yourself, like you’re holding yourself together.

“Funny way of showing it.”

Bucky’s face falls, and you hate how much it hurts to see him like this—how much you still want to reach for him.

“You don’t trust yourself to let someone in,” you say quietly, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “But do you really have to hurt me in the process?”

Bucky swallows hard. “No,” he says, his voice rough and ragged. “And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, but your emotions are too raw. “I don’t know if that’s enough, Bucky.”

There’s a moment—a heartbeat—where it feels like he might reach for you. Like maybe he’ll finally step past his own fear and just try.

But he doesn’t.

And that tells you everything you need to know.

Your grip on the doorknob tightens. You take a step back.

Then, without another word, you close the door.

Leaving Bucky standing there, his past and his regrets pressing down on him like a weight he may never be able to lift.

And for the first time since you arrived in Brooklyn, you wonder if this whole thing was a mistake.

Thank you so much for reading <3 please reblog or comment below, I love hearing your thoughts and feedback!

part four

[thedenofravenpuff]

What can I say, I love dumb memes and @theinfamousdoctorf's "Eclipse Meets His Match" SAMS-verse lives rent free in my mind.

Had to do it to them.

Sun likes the attention

Enjoy!

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[hollyseb]

BARTENDER (PART 2)

You need to make ends meet. How far are you willing to go?

Mob! Bucky x reader

Part 1 can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/hollyseb/737816177450041344/bartender-part-1

AN; thank you for all the love on part 1!

Warnings: drinking, gun violence, references to the mob, blood, MINORS DNI

Summary; bartending for an elite club to make ends meet. you don’t realise you’ve stumbled into the lair of Bucky Barnes.

He paid for my fee? What the fuck?

Now you knew something was up. First the staring, and now this. Your head was reeling with questions as you made your way inside your apartment, gently closing the door. He is just taking care of one of his employees.

Slipping into your pajamas and flicking the kettle on, you decided to attempt to unwind from your night. Everything was fine until this man decided to act all unpredictable.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky couldn’t be any more pleased that you had accepted a ride from one of his drivers. You hadn’t questioned how the driver had started heading in the direction of your apartment block before you had revealed your address. He hoped you were flattered by the lift.

He wasn’t used to this. To pursuing his women. Most would flock to him, laying down at his feet. Providing nothing but a quick, cheap fuck.

When Bucky had left the club, he instantly headed to his office, shaking Steve off when he suggested he should head home.

“Steve, just leave me”, Bucky sighed as Steve reluctantly let his friend out of his grip. He could see the blaze in Bucky’s eyes, the focus in his upper body. There was no stopping him when he was like this, this drive was how he had risen through the ranks of the mob so ruthlessly.

Bucky sat in his office chair. He’d received your name and address from Sam, and Steve had found your social media sites. He grinned when he told his driver your address, having to hold himself back from scoping out the apartment block, but his grin grew even more when he opened your social media accounts. A couple pictures of you smiling with Nat, one from your graduation, and none with a boyfriend. He wasn’t expecting that.

You were so different. He found himself wondering about you, pondering your past and how you’d come to work at one of his clubs. He wondered if you knew what you were getting yourself in for, the people you were working for. Part of him wanted to tell you to run while you could, to turn your back and never return, but another part of him felt glad. Signing the contract to bartend his club was the perfect entanglement of your lives. He always got what he wanted.

When you arrived at the club the next night, he made sure to request you to serve his drinks.

When Nat told you the news, that he wanted you to deliver his drinks, you felt your face scrunch. Why me? You didn’t want a repeat of yesterday's events, so you told Nat to help you reapply your lipgloss, and attempt to give you some form of a pep talk before you grabbed the tray of five straight whiskeys.

“He wouldn’t ask you to serve his drinks if he didn’t think you were a good server. Now pucker your lips-” Nat explained absentmindedly.

“It’s just so weird. I mean, it was so awkward yesterday”

“Maybe he likes that?” You giggled. No way. Nevertheless, you appreciated Nat’s efforts to calm your nerves.

She continued, “well I know plenty of women would pay to serve him so…”, she elbowed you, referencing his good looks.

“Nat. That just makes it worse! He’s hot and he knows it, and he knows I know it-“, you rambled.

“And maybe he finds you hot”, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at that, as your best friend handed the tray of drinks to you.

Deep breath. He’s just a man. You’ve got this.

Heading up the stairs to the secluded room again, you felt a little shaky. As you drew the curtain back, the same silence fell over the room. It was all the same men from last night, the tall blond one, the dark skinned one, one sitting in a red suit and the long haired brunette.

You spoke first. Surprising yourself at that. “H-hello. I just wanted to thank you for the ride home last night… and also I have five whiskeys.”

The man at the head of the table let out an exhale, shaking his hair away from his face, “it was no problem honey. There will be one waiting outside for you tonight too.”

You were taken aback. A small, but grateful smile gracing your face. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“That’s… really kind of you, thank you. I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

“Ah-ah-ah”, Bucky tsked, standing up from his chair. God, he is massive. So tall. So broad. Your head craned to look up at him. Your stomach was flipping at his comment, “you won’t pay me back for anything”, he grabbed the tray from your hands, fingers brushing yours.

You sent him a smile, opening your mouth to wish him a thank you before leaving. You left the room with your hands shaking.

Bucky was obsessed with the way he made you nervous, and the way your dress cinched your waist. He saw everything. The way your hands shook when he brushed your fingers, the way your eyes lit up when you took in his build, and the way your cheeks flushed when he let his eyes roam your figure. He felt his cock grow hard when he saw that you didn’t spare a glance to any of the other men in the room, just him. You were his. Whether you knew it or not.

You let elation carry you through the rest of the night. You spent the next few hours behind the bar, your eyes trailing to the curtained room far more often than you liked. With watching Nat flirt with the regulars, and poke you in the ribs occasionally, you felt yourself relax into your role.

That was until you heard a popping sound. Repeatedly. And then screaming.

You were paralysed. Deafened by the noise, and then the sight of masked men enclosing the club, shoving guests down, smashing glasses, and shooting their guns into the air.

Panic seized you, gripping you by the throat. Nat pulled you onto the ground harshly, your chin smacking the cold floor behind the bar.

“Just be quiet. It’s okay. They’ll be here for boss, not us”, Nat explained frantically, as if she’d experienced this before. You couldn’t breath, just wheezing in manufactured gasps, eyes wide.

“N-Nat. I’m so scared”, you felt tears pooling in your eyes as the club quietened. You could hear footsteps. Quick ones. People were leaving. You assured yourself that maybe they weren’t trying to hurt anyone.

You could hear the men approaching the bar. Oh my god, this is it. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to stop the scene unfolding before you.

Your whole body seizing up as you felt a hand grab your upper arm, pulling you up, holding your body against theirs. You couldn’t see who it was, and your thoughts ran at a hundred miles-per-hour. As the figure pulled you to your feet, you looked across the bar, Bucky’s associates restraining the men. Sam kicked the gun from one's hand, then pushed him into the ground. Steve had the other backed into a corner, repeatedly pounding him in the jaw.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’ve got you. Let’s go. Come on.” The voice in your ear soothed you. You recognised it as Bucky’s. He brushed your hair from your face and wiped the tears from your cheeks with his rough hand. You could hear him yell something to Steve about grabbing Nat, but the pounding in your ears began to drown him out. He was practically walking for you, your feet barely scraping the floor.

He led you to the car parked outside the back of the club. Sitting you down and pulling the seat belt across your body. He was drinking you in. Looking at your red eyes and swollen lips.

“I am so sorry, honey. I have a… couple of enemies in the city. That will never, ever happen again”, he faltered over his words, carefully picking them.

You were shell shocked. Only able to nod in a fake understanding. What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

“Look, let me take you home”, Bucky brushed a strand of disturbed hair behind your ear, his thumb running across your bottom lip. God you look gorgeous. He was obsessed with your swollen lips and the way you were clinging to him as if he was the weight holding you to reality. He hated the situation, the imposing mob hydra infiltrating his club at a poor attempt to establish fear, but god you looked insane.

He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your palm. He tried to explain, briefly, the situation. He ran a company which focused on the safety of citizens in the city. Some tried to breach that. To bring drugs, disorder and chaos in the city as a quick way to make money. You didn’t need to know all the details, he thought. He knew he was omitting information, making himself out to be the good guy. He’d done things he was ashamed of. Wronged good people. Eliminated the competition. Acted ruthlessly to own the city. But you didn't need to know that.

He was drunk on the way you were shaking in his arms. The power that he had to comfort you. He couldn’t help but smile. An open fire by the enemy mob has done nothing but bring me closer to what I want.

Bucky helped you get out of the car, walking you up to your apartment. Even after everything you’d witnessed, your boss helping you up the stairs to your flat brought you to reality. You didn’t question how he knew which floor and door to stop at.

“I-thank you for walking me back but, you should go now”, you couldn’t meet his eyes. The events of the night were catching up on you. You wanted to call Nat and lay in bed.

The tall man made you look at him, picking up your chin with his forefinger. He turned his head slightly as you locked eyes with him. You were just so gorgeous. He wanted to kiss you. But not like this. Not when you were this shocked. He wanted to make it special. Rose petals and champagne. Not like this. So he made a point to look at your chin, bloodied from hitting the ground earlier.

“At least let me clean this up”, god he was so convincing. You opened your door and let him follow you in. You grabbed your first aid kit from your bathroom, telling him to make himself comfortable.

You let him wipe your chin, and gently place a plaster over it. His free hand rubbing circles into your shoulder and the nape of your neck. It was close, sensual even. He felt his cock still at the way you closed your eyes and let your head tilt back when his thumb hit your sensitive spot. He wanted you like this all the time. Relaxed, open, and submissive. You allowed yourself to bask in his touch, and the comfort it brought. You deserve this after the day you’ve had.

“Please, come into my office tomorrow, I can’t have you coming back into work in this state. I need you to feel completely comfortable”, Bucky practically demanded. He wanted to take care of you so badly.

You breathed a sigh of relief. You could confide in him. You could ease yourself back into the club. Unaware of the undertones of comfortable.

“T-thank you Bucky. I’ll be there.” You dropped your eyes and thanked him for the care. He ran his hands down your arms before retreating towards the door. You needed this job, and you needed the money. This situation can’t change that.

You slipped into bed, questioning what exactly you would be doing with your boss tomorrow.

Meanwhile Bucky headed back to the club. There were two masked men in his basement he needed to deal with.

Next part here! https://www.tumblr.com/hollyseb/738091620032987136/the-bartender-part-3

TAGLIST

@melsunshine @scott-loki-barnes

[lightningonatether]

Why c!endersmile were actually friends

ALTERNATIVELY TITLED: my crazy thesis on two bad bitches with not a single moment of screentime fueled purely by my own insanity

ALTERNATIVELY alternatively titled: to all loreheads please be nice i dont usually lorepost. feel free to engage though

So my return is courtesy of litchi, who mentioned c!endersmile like once a month ago, and got me thinking about them so hard I couldn't just walk away.

Namely, litchi reminded me of a few theories I have concerning c!endersmiles relationship, that I developed back when i was watching the SMP live. This might make my recollection of some events a little fuzzy, but everything should be canon compliant cause I was thinking about all this as I watched.

I was already watching ranboo pretty regularly at the point the prison arc started, I cant resist a really weird guy with horrible debilitating anxiety. I already thought the whole hearing dreams voice in his head was really interesting, but as the prison arc evolved it became clear that ranboos relationship with dream wasnt just some hallucination inside ranboos head and actually had some substance.

My theory really started to develop into what it is now with the explosions on the prison roof which led to the lockdown and tommys death; these were confirmed to be set by ranboo in his enderwalk state. He was one of the only people online at the time, ranboo found tnt in his inventory afterwards, and I think dream also told sam he knew ranboo did it at some point, although I can't find the exact stream.

At that point it was obvious that enderwalking ranboo held a different set of beliefs, alliances, and likely more memories than the "awake" ranboo we saw most of the time on streams, and was acting against amnesiac ranboos wishes. The explosions above the prison along with the reveal that ranboo had been regularly visiting dream in prison confirmed that dream and ender!ranboo were some sort of allies.

At the time, my assumption was that ranboo had simply made an attempted prison break. It wouldnt be a stretch to assume, if ranboo had visited regularly, that he would have noticed the poor conditions and tried to break his ally out. However, after the confirmation of the staged finale, and a better look at cdreams motivations(wanting to provide protection for punz, separating himself very publicly from his only known ally to keep them safe) the idea that enderwalk ranboo, an ally of dreams, would go against dreams explicit wishes to stay locked in that prison began making less sense.

It would only make sense if either:

enderwalk never knew about the plan or

enderwalk knew about the plan but went against it anyway

1 is a very tempting explanation. c!dream rarely lets anyone close. even punz, who knew the plan intimately, wasn't aware of dreams true motivations to bring the server back to a peaceful time before conflict. but..... it didnt sit right with me.

Two reasons for this: I know some people may have stopped watching/never watched ranboo lore, but towards the end of the prison arc, ranboo began seeing flashes of "lessons" appear on screen. These lessons all had that utilitarian and paranoid feel a lot of dreams actions/reasoning have, like "dont trust anybody"(paraphrasing, thats just what i remember the core of that message being) or "never hesitate to gain a favor from someone, you can use it to get something from them later". anyone remember technos favor to dream? It was heavily implied these lessons were meant to be from dream, directed at c!enderwalk. This would mean the two spent a significant amount of time together. not only that, dream was sharing his *life philosophy* with ender!ranboo. thats not just something dream would share with anyone, and implies a close allyship at the least. its almost like he was teaching a pupil. yeah, sure, some of his lessons were a little fucked up and weird in that dream sort of way, but he was looking out for the kid. and it seems that enderwalk wasnt hesitant to act on those lessons either. he promised to keep a shulker safe for foolish, gaining a favor, and didnt sign a single one of those prison visitation waivers, on top of sam discovering they were corrupted into enderian when he checked LMAO.

This alone would be enough to persuade me enderwalk HAD to have been let in on the plan, at least so he wouldnt cause any problems (such as trying to get his ally out of prison).

but the other reason is... ranboos stated philosophy against conflict. he doesnt like sides, he wishes they wouldn't exist. I remember watching a stream and nearly jumping out of my seat when he told chat he just wished the server could just be one big happy family! because that is nearly word for word what a bunch of loreheads were saying about dreams motivations at the time(and now obviously lmao). if we keep in mind their contact for those "lessons", ranboos visits to dream in prison, AND the fact that dreams and ranboos motivations coincide on a level even Above dream and punzs(punz seemed to have been unaware of and also not particularly motivated by dreams wish for peace) i cant really imagine dream not letting this guy in on the plan.

which leaves us with 2) ranboo tried to break dream out against dreams wishes.

Maybe ranboo was just an ally and chickened out after he saw dreams mistreatment in prison and went against the plan, but... dream missed him after sam barred him from visiting. he asked sapnap to deliver a note to ranboo(just a smiley face, likely with the hopes of triggering an enderwalk) despite fearing for his ally punz enough to lock himself in prison. it feels reminicent to how dream sounds when he comments on george not visiting him once. like he missed a friend despite trying so hard to separate himself from the ones he'd had.

Maybe ranboo tried to break in because he saw a friend being mistreated, and couldn't leave the plan stand.

And that kind of makes sense doesn't it? that dream, someone whos paranoid about how peoples connection to him puts them in danger, would choose an amnesiac who spends most of their time terrified of dream, and wouldnt remember any of his plans or their friendship to use against either of them in the first place?

[bleue-flora]

The prison was meant for dream? I thought it was always meant for Tommy?

Ahh well yes, the prison was in fact never made specifically for Tommy and despite what he says in the disc confrontation, Dream was not planning to put Tommy in the prison but in fact himself.

Why do we know this?

Well, for starters, even if we look just at that conversation, he actually says how the prison wasn’t meant for Tommy. So even if we believe his monologue and what he says about Tommy being the key and yada yada, then we too must also believe that the prison wasn’t built for Tommy [clip]:

Dream: “I’m going to lock Tommy away forever […] the prison, it wasn’t meant for you orginally, but now it is.”

But should we even believe his monologuing?

Is he not talking about putting Tommy in a maximum security prison while there’s just a little cage for Skeppy in the wall right behind him? - Does he not say that Tommy started the trend of attachments and yet Berkerson and Mars and Spirit all existed long before he joined?

These are just some of the things in that finale that don’t make sense. Because the truth is, it isn’t real. He meant to get caught. He meant to lose. He meant to get arrested. I mean otherwise why wouldn’t he have just left after Tommy killed him the first time, after all if he can revive Tommy, then Tommy’s threat to kill himself means nothing to Dream, and that’s even if he was telling the truth about Tommy’s importance to begin with. Tommy’s leverage isn’t real, Dream only came back because he wanted to. Because it was all part of his plan. It was all staged. Punz didn’t lead the others to Dream’s Vault because Tommy paid him more than Dream, because a man casually carrying around 15 Enchanted Golden Apples in his inventory isn’t going to be out paid by someone living in a dirt house.

Punz’s betrayal was staged and we know this because in more than one instance it is confirmed as much.

Just after Techno’s attempted assassination, in the same conversation of Dream saying how he appreciates Punz being by his side from the beginning, he tells Punz that he needs to no longer be on his side [clip]. That they must stage a divide of sorts so no one goes after Punz when they inevitably go after Dream. In the conversation we also see Dream looking at the prison and talking about how he’s going away for a bit [clip]. And this strikes Punz off guard and we see him struggling to process Dream leaving [clip] and more notably no longer being able to even talk to him [clip].

And if their plotting isn’t enough to convince you, then perhaps Punz giving Dream armor right after the jailbreak will as he says [clip]:

Punz: “I thought—I thought the plan was to meet here ages ago. I’ve been waiting for so long.”

But if that’s not enough, there is also what he says to Sam in Daedalus [clip]:

Dream: “Oh, I’m gonna put Skeppy in a two by one box? You think that’s what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna pop him there even though I have this massive prison that I was—I was building? I was gonna throw Skeppy in a little two by one box? Look it wasn’t—it—that wasn’t anything, that was just for show… That was just to—that was all theatre. For Tommy. Okay? I was having fun. I was messing about.”

And then, they straight up confirm it all in the finale [clip] with Punz saying how he was never on clingy duo’s side, and Dream going into detail about how they needed to stage a betrayal to protect Punz.

So ultimately, that disc confrontation was as Dream said all for show and if that’s true then he was planning to put himself in prison, and given that the prison didn’t finish construction till after Punz and Dream’s plotting stream we can say that Dream was literally building the prison while planning to put himself inside, so yes the prison was never meant for Tommy but meant for Dream.

He even hints as much in the funny conversation with Techno about being homeless [clip]:

Dream: “My house is the biggest house on the server.” Techno: “I believe you, man. I believe you. Everyone believes you.” Dream: “No, I—I—I prom—promise. I swear though.” Techno: “Everyone believes you, Dream.” Dream: “I promise. I’m actually—I’m not even kidding it’s huge—it’s like using redstone and stuff. It’s awesome.”

Which Techno later even highlights is true in the Prison Podcast [clip]:

Dream: “This is… To be fair, I did say I have a giant house. This is pretty giant.” Techno: “I—I—this—it is filled with redstone. I didn’t think you were telling the truth, but here you are. Here you are…”

But even if you don’t want to believe me, you can believe cc!Dream as he talked about his own character’s reasonings and plans [which dr3 recently provided the transcript for]:

cc!Dream: “But when (c!)Dream—(c!)Dream put himself into the prison. It was, it was thought of as a very—it was thought of as a temporary thing and ended up lasting a lot longer than he had imagined. And also, on top of that, he didn’t expect that Awesamdude would let Quackity in to fucking torture him. So that obviously made things a million times worse.”

So when Dream says to Tommy like a maniac as he chases him [clip]:

Dream: “They had to lock me up in an entire prison built just for me!”

He’s technically telling the truth.

As he says to Sam in Daedalus [clip]:

Dream: “Eh, I’m—I’m—I feel like I’m… primarily responsible for my imprisonment”

[yk-aresss]

EDIT!!! I MADE A DISCORD SERVER. PLEASE DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO JOIN

A welcome post thing bc I dont have one yet

You can call me ares

genderfaunet he/they/it. Im demisexual and omniromantic but tbh probably demiromantic too. Oh yeah polyamorous

Im into the agggtm series, girl in peices series, Hazbin Hotel, Murder Drones, TADC, sharks, omori, and more!

current special interest/hyper fixation is epic the musical

DNI: zoophiles, pedophiles, homophobes, transphobes, antifurry/antitherian, shit like that

I am CLOSETED. I've tried coming out as omni to my parents but they tell me Idk what I'm talking abt. Pretty much all of my friends know though

I live laugh love 6arleyhuman

I love to draw, read and write, though art block and writers block have been on my back for months.

Something about me, hmmm. I put anything and everything on my wall (I have a candy box taped to it)

My Blahaj is my life

I'm short.

@femboy-hooters-real employee

I'm not a pathological liar like my brother says, ask @firehouse-subs-fr

married to @sam-the-skelepun, @femboy-hooters-real

I run @real-omnisexual-military @queer-military-authorities @very-anonymous-confessions @real-grammarly @kis-official-art-blog

@my-mental-health-is-failing @is-it-autistic-to @little-debbies-official and am a mod of @electio-aroace-navy @is-it-an-adhd-thing

and @the-cult-of-the-neurodiverse

I will prob add to this post a lot

[clownyboiclownyboi]

hellllloooooo it’s me again! how have you been? :3

Request! How do characters perceive themselves? Do they think they’re a good person, a bad person, or barely a person? sorry if the ask is a bit confusing, feel free not to answer 😛

Oooooooh wait no but this is such an interesting one, I would love to answer!! :D Been alright btw, just tired and that's why posts have been slowing

Techno sees himself as unredeemable. He knows what he's done, he knows there is blood in the snow that will not disappear come spring, he knows there are scars and breaks and burns that will not go away with an apology. But he also sees himself as human. Too human, really. It'd be easier if he were less human, because then he wouldn't be bothered when he is inevitably used and abused and hurt and betrayed. But no, he is too human to be a monster, and too much of a monster to be redeemable, and he has to live with that.

Phil sees himself as a survivor. Above all, he survived. When his best friend was locked in prison, he survived. When L'manberg came to put him under house arrest, he survived. As a chick, watching each of his family and friends died out, he survived. When his son shoved a sword into his hands and screamed, he survived. He thinks it might be one of his worst traits, really.

The Warden is not a person. The Warden is a machine, a fog that takes over and fills his head when he walks into that gloomy box. The Warden is a disease, infecting his moral compass and relationships and everything around him. Sam is a person. Sam is a gentle soul who likes waking up to lemon scones and silly kisses from his partner. Sam is a fatherly warmth that holds together the broken pieces that make the children on the server, that guides Fran in the direction of the children too scared to be held. Sam is not The Warden. He's not. He can't be, because The Warden is not human, and what would that make Sam? What would that mean Sam did, to his friends, no less?

Tommy is loyal. Tommy doesn't bother with concepts like good or bad anymore. Good people have abandoned him and bad people have comforted and protected him. He's tired of bad and good, so he is simply loyal. He will protect the hands that hurt him, he will bite the hands that feed him, and he will be loyal. He's done bad, he's done good, but he is loyal. That is all he has left to give, and he will give it to the end.

ack, its really short, but I hope you liked it!!