ship em hard

Ya know bisexual characters can be…bisexual….you don’t gotta write them in fanfic like they’ve been Straight™ all their life but this One Person is the exception….like I know it’s wild….but their partner doesn’t have to be the only person of the same sex they’ve ever Noticed™ ever

10

JM (to JK): Why do I like you so much?

Hatfilms messing around

Found a draw-your-squad thing in Pinterest that resonated within me and thus, this was born

Edit: if this looks compressed to heck and back (like it currently does for me ffs), click it to see a not so compressed version
Punk (Chap. 5)


Summary: You’re head over heels for you’re best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 2942

Warnings: Same as always

A/N:  FYI on Chap. 4 I had to go back and make a minor change bc of a continuity error.  Bucky’s hair is short (think TJ Hammond style) in this fic and i slipped up an put in a man-bun note (it’s my weakness). Sorry!  Now, back to the story….



Abandoning Wanda in your closet to hunt through the mass of new clothes you’d unceremoniously shoved in there earlier, you raced down the floor towards Nat’s room, ready to call the whole night off after that disaster of a dinner.  You rounded the corner and attempted to stop short but your socks had no grip and you crashed into a wall of muscle.  “Sorry, Sam,” you mumbled.  “You okay?” Sam laughed and steadied you back on your feet.

You heard Bucky snort from behind and winced. Great, he’d just seen you stuff your face full of Chow Mein and apple pie and now he caught you hurdling down the hallway like the giant boulder from Indiana Jones.  “He’s fine,” Bucky clapped him on the back.  “Not even you could crack this thick skull.”  

And with that he pulled Sam’s sweatshirt hood over his eyes and gave him a noogie before guffawing like a doofus and racing past you with Sam hot on his heels.

“Ay yo!  What the hell’s that mean?!” he hollered.  “And don’t touch my hair, man!”  Sam’s voice carried down the hallway as he chased your best friend.  A loud thud and muffled ‘ooof’ confirmed that he’d caught up to him and apparently rugby tackled him in the living room.

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