Lately I've been having fun making the feeder girls fatter than me. I'll make them eat with me whenever they take me out, and once things progress to funnelling I'll funnel them well but intentionally fuck up my own funneling so they get way more calories than me. I make enough money off Dizzy's to be able to afford enough weight loss medication to stay mobile, but eventually the feeders get too big to want to go anywhere so they just get funneled at home every date.
What can I say, I'm fucked in the head and I like when they whine to me about how they never wanted to get fat lol
Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. And a boyfriend. Integrating two asocial partners sounds difficult, but it might be easier than anyone thinks.
Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader; Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes; eventual Steve/Bucky/Reader – Female Reader
Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense
Chapter 7: Falcon Punch
Chapter Summary: Wherein poor Sam really needs to make some better friends, and Bucky bonds over being obnoxious.
Chapter Warnings: Text messaging including misspellings, emojis, and obnoxious punctuation.
Chapter Word Count: 2438
~
It was a boring day, and my boyfriend was away on business.
Not terrible business, thankfully, but work was work as far as I was concerned, especially when I knew Steve probably had to do a lot of talking to a lot of people. Poor thing. But the Avengers stuff had been mildly interesting after the fact. I always waited for an ‘all clear’ from Steve before I allowed myself to look at news after combat, and this time was quieter than the others. It was related to the alien thing that had happened recently, but this time the Avengers were prepared and had extra help, so I could look at my friends being cool without the accompanying dread.
Tony and Thor had both made faces that landed them in meme territory before the dust had settled. I wasn’t sure which one of them would be funnier to send to Tony as a reaction image, so I saved them both. Steve was cute as ever, and I preened a little at some of the comments before moving on.
Sam in particular was far and away the internet darling this time, doing cool shit in the air that everyone was fawning over. Appropriately, but he was my friend, and it felt weird to just text him how awesome he looked. I chose not to look any deeper at what that probably said about me, and opened up my conversation with him.
Me: Hey Sam
Me: I will pay you five whole dollars if you somehow work in a ‘Falcon Punch!’
Me: On TV or in a fight; I will accept the honor system if the retelling is funny enough
It only took a few minutes for him to get back to me.
Sam: A whole five dollars, huh?
Sam: Will you also pay to fend off Nintendo’s lawyers?
Me: You’re no fun
I flopped back onto my bed and almost let it go. Until I realized– I was on friendly(-ish) terms with someone who could pay to fend off a litigious horde. And who possibly might.
Me: Actually, hold that thought
I flipped over to open a brand-new conversation.
Me: Hey Stark
Me: Weird question- if I got Sam to do something funny, would you front the potential legal fees?
Tony: I’m intrigued.
I had to think of how to sell it.
Me: I’m trying to get him to use ‘Falcon punch!’ in a fight or an interview
Me: But he’s worried about Nintendo’s legal team
Me: So…funny enough to fend off a C&D?
It took a few seconds.
Tony: How dare you
Tony: I’m so offended
Tony: How did you come up with this before me?!
I rolled my eyes.
Me: I’m here to look cute and give bad ideas
Tony: Stop coming for my job!
I stuck my tongue at the phone. And then noticed Sam was sending me more texts– the first two just being my name. Uh oh.
Sam: What did you do?
Sam: Why is Tony texting me about Captain Falcon?
Sam: Why is Tony talking about redoing my costume?!
Whoops. I thought about explaining myself, but I just screenshot the conversation with Tony and sent it to him.
Me: So good news: you’re covered!
Sam: Oh I hate you
Me: Yeah that’s probably fair
Me: I’ll make it ten bucks <3
Sam: You owe me goddamned dinner
Sam: I won’t stop hearing about this until I do it
Me: Dinner it is
Poor Sam. But I couldn’t wait to hear about it. Over dinner.
~
I heard a knock later that night. I paused and wondered what the best way to handle this was– it was obviously Bucky. But if I didn’t do my due diligence, he was going to be disappointed, and he was getting too damn good at that face.
Me: Are you the one knocking at my door?
Bucky: You’re not gonna check?
Me: What if it’s someone waiting with a gun aimed at the peephole just waiting to take me out?
It took him a few moments to type.
Bucky: imm s o
Bucky: I’m so proud of you right now
I burst out laughing. “You’re such a fucking weirdo!” I said on my way to the door and immediately unlocked it. Despite all of that, I still got the scowl of disappointment, but Bucky slipped his phone away even as he let out a sigh of disgust.
“You didn’t wait for the all clear,” he grumbled as he slipped in past me.
“If I texted you that someone was at my door and it wasn’t you, you would have just said so,” I said. “Or, if you were feeling really antsy, you would have told me to wait for you to come over.”
The scowl became a pout. “I am not that predictable,” he said, and I could feel like there was an unspoken ‘anymore’ being appended to the end of that.
“Don’t get too creative with it,” I said and rolled my eyes as I locked my door again. “If– if– you come up with a reasonable procedure you want me to follow, I might go along with it.”
“Might,” Bucky said, but his expression was lightening.
“Reasonable,” I said as sternly as I could. “Maybe run the first draft past Steve before you bring any of it to me.”
He nodded. And then we just…stood there. Things were so much easier when you had someone in common to fill the silence. Someone who actually liked to talk.
“I’m playing a racing game,” I said and gestured at the TV. “Do you wanna try for player two?”
He shook his head. “Can I watch?”
“Sure!” I almost started for the couch but stopped. “Do you want something to drink?”
He seemed to give it serious thought. He looked between me and the kitchen a few times, and I almost started to reassure him, but he gave me a sharp look and I kept my mouth shut. Right; probably wasn’t good to press him one way or another. ‘Making one’s own decisions’ and all that.
“No thank you,” he said, and went over to the chair. I had set a nice plush blanket on it, but he took it off and set it on the table. I tried not to look too invested in that as I wandered back to my seat. It probably said something that I couldn’t even really ask him about his preferences, but to be honest, we all knew I wasn’t much better at talking than he was.
Case in point– when I was taking a long, drawn-out curve as fast as I could without crashing, and he asked, out of nowhere, “What’s a ‘Falcon Punch?’”
I crashed. And I paused for a moment while I tried to figure out how to answer. However, there was a hot rush of rage from the center of my stomach. “Are you still listening in on–?!”
“I heard it from Steve,” Bucky said quickly. He put his hands up, and his eyes were a little wider. “He was telling me. ‘Cause Wilson was…annoyed.”
The anger melted right away, and while I felt relieved, I also felt embarrassed. “Um…sorry.”
“No, that’s reasonable,” he said. “But I wouldn’t do that to you. I only bugged Steve’s phone before because I needed to know where he was. Explosives, y’know.”
“I can imagine.” I took a deep breath. Okay, attempted murder avoided. I then pressed out of the crash screen and back to track selection. I turned to face him fully. “Was Steve annoyed too?” I asked.
“No,” Bucky said. I was a little disappointed, but then he said, “He was laughing. Wilson sounded real put out about it though.”
That was even better. “Sam was talking about it? What did he say?” I asked, eager to hear about how my nonsense had been received.
Bucky sort of froze, though, and he hung his head. “When Steve told me about it, on the phone,” he admitted. “Wilson was just interjecting. In the background.” Bucky lifted his head and looked at me. “He complained a lot…but also he laughed once.”
“Nice,” I said, proud enough at that. Sam had a good sense of humor, but sometimes I missed the line even when I was trying. It was good to know I hadn’t irrevocably fucked anything up. Bucky still seemed perturbed, though. I nudged him gently. “What’s eating you?”
He tilted his head from side to side, almost like he was slowly stretching his neck, then he leaned back against the chair and let his head flop back so he was staring at the ceiling. “What’s he like to talk to?” Bucky asked and looked at me again.
“Sam? He’s really nice,” I said. “But not too nice. It feels really easy to talk to him. But not too easy–”
Bucky snorted, and I had to reassess what I was actually trying to say. I sighed. Talking was so hard. I held out my hands and tried to get myself together. “When people are too slick or too nice, I don’t really trust them.” I dropped my hands back down. “Sam’s nice and easy to deal with without any warning bells. That’s all. I like him; he’s my friend.”
Bucky nodded, but said nothing. He fidgeted a bit. Obviously he was still bothered. “Did something happen?” I asked.
Bucky frowned, and lowered his head more so that his hair fell to slightly cover him. “We met once,” he said. “When I was…the Soldier. So we…don’t talk.”
“Ah.” Right, that might make things awkward, even for Sam. “What happened?”
“I destroyed his car and tried to kill him.”
“Yeah, I can see how that would be…not a great first impression,” I said. I was ready to let it go, but then I…couldn’t stop thinking about it. Murder was bad, but Sam was almost unnaturally good sometimes, and he had been way too gung-ho about joining Steve’s retrieval mission to then hold such a major grudge and refuse to speak to Bucky at all. Sam not speaking to someone…something about this wasn’t adding up.
“Hey…” I said slowly, still a bit uncertain. “Did he tell you that he didn’t want to talk to you because of the whole ‘attempted murder slash car destruction’ thing, or did you just decide to never talk to him without finding out if he still held a grudge?”
Bucky stared at me so hard I immediately knew it was the second. I fluttered my eyelashes at him. He rolled his own eyes. “You look stupid doing that,” he grumbled.
“I know,” I said. Smugly, just to be even more irritating about it.
He sighed in disgust. It was so fun being right. “The second,” he admitted. “And I’m not going to. Not yet.”
“Okay,” I said and snuggled my back into the couch.
Bucky stared at me. “Is it?” he asked uncertainly.
“Talking to people is hard even for normal shit,” I said. “I grabbed some food yesterday and when the lady behind the counter told me to enjoy my meal, I replied ‘you too’ without even thinking.” I looked right at him. “She laughed at me. I can never go back there again.”
He had that flat look on his face again. I was starting to really love that look, which probably didn’t bode well for my health, or his opinion of me, but he was bitchier than even Steve and I really couldn’t help how fun that was. “Yeah, those are totally equivalent,” he said.
“Exactly!” I picked up the remote. “Do you wanna watch a movie, or do you wanna keep watching me embarrass myself by being bad at video games?”
He looked thoughtful. “Do…” He paused. Several seconds passed, and then several more, but I waited patiently. I wondered if it was better or worse to keep looking at him, or if I should turn away, but if I turned away would he think I wasn’t interested or dismissing him–
“Do you have anything…peaceful?” he asked.
I rolled that over in my head. “Yeah,” I said and exited back to the system menu. “But you just let me know when you get bored and decide you want to watch demons get murdered in big sprays of gore.”
“Demons, or your character?” he asked.
“Now you’re getting it,” I said proudly, but nonetheless brought up a platformer while I tried to figure out if I could maybe sneak in some Smash Bros. Maybe if Bucky was feeling better before he left I would try, because the thought of Bucky having one over on Steve for pop culture knowledge would annoy the hell out of Steve, and that was very funny to me.
~
Sam: I ask again
Sam: What the HELL did you do
I blinked at my phone and gave it some honest-to-god thought. The last message we’d had was two days previous, about the Captain Falcon thing.
Me: Nothing that I know of?
Me: That convo with you and Tony was the last shenanigan I pulled
I waited for a response. I waited for two whole minutes.
Me: I’m kind of worried now though
Me: What DID I do?
I received an image in reply. A screenshot, slightly elongated, of a text message conversation between Sam and…“Unidentified Number.” I opened it up and zoomed in a little. It looked like the first image was…a gif? Of Captain Falcon doing a stupid little dance–
I immediately scanned the rest of the text, but there really wasn’t much to go on. At the very top there was the tail end of a message bubble from Sam, then the gif, then:
Unidentified: Are you gonna do this when you get the new costume?
[Sam]: WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT????!!!
I furrowed my brows in thought, because why would Sam be texting with an unidentified number who apparently had needed teaching about Captain Falcon–
My eyes shot open wide enough that the air stung and I immediately went back to Sam’s message.
Me: You’re texting with Bucky?????
Sam: He just recently opened up on communication
Sam: It was all going great
Sam: And then he hit me with THAT
Sam: Again: What. Did. You. Do.
I snorted. But before I could even begin to think of an explanation, I got another text.
Steve: Bucky won’t explain to me the joke you told him >:(
At that point, I cracked, and just started laughing.
Me: You are SUCH a troll
Bucky: Knowing you mean that as a compliment is so weird.
Bucky: But thanks.
I’ve been tagged twice for this now and I’ve been putting it off not only because I had let my mom borrow a few books I wanted to use for this but also because my book collection is wildly inferior to everyone else’s and I was really intimidated. But I wanted to participate so here is my very random stack of blue books.
Why do I have the compulsion to make jokes at a time when nothing should be funny? Why do I mock others for coping with this tragedy with sensationalized sentimentality, when my methods are far worse? Has my mind been so tainted by our culture of irony that I’m incapable of feeling any real emotion? Is this my way of denying the depths of the horror of what happened? Or am I irreversibly fucked up?
October 13th, 2019: On June 27th, 2018 Harry Styles performed in Indianapolis, Indiana, as part of his first solo tour. Here using the proceeds from the sale of his Treat People With Kindness merch…
October 13th, 2019: On June 27th, 2018 Harry Styles performed in Indianapolis, Indiana, as part of his first solo tour. Here using the proceeds from the sale of his Treat People With Kindness merchandise and part of the tickets’ sale, he made a donation to Second Helpings.
Second Helpings is an Indianapolis based charity that works to reduce poverty in the area by providing meals to families that live below the poverty line and by training people in the culinary industry. It is estimated that the percentage of families that live below the poverty line in certain Indiana counties is above the national averages. There are families that live in Marion’s county for example who live on a combined income of $25,500/year. However, it has been determined that a family in this area needs at least $50,800 to be self-sufficient. These statistics highlight the fact that a large number of families in the Indianapolis area are food insecure, which means that they lack consistent access to enough food for an active and healthy life.
