#this had been in my drafts for *months* i just wanted it out

[kookygranger]

Top five, most memorable kisses of all time

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Corroded Coffin move to Chicago and find their people. Eddie finds you behind the counter at Championship Records. He thinks you're cool. You think he's gorgeous. Life outside of Hawkins might just be worth fighting for.

Warnings: swearing, kissing (obvs), fluff, fem!reader, mostly Eddie's POV, our boy has no rizz, alcohol consumption, I don't think anything else, too many high fidelity references?

Word count: 4k

Author's note: This is a one-shot, that has been sitting in my drafts since last Halloween and thanks to a wip game has finally seen the light of day! Find the playlist that inspired the fic below.

Masterlist

One pill makes you larger,

And one pill makes you small

The bell above the door jingles as Eddie steps through the threshold, his shoulders relaxing as the warmth seeps back into him and he scans the racks of records before him. Perking up as he notices the music playing over the speakers, he was still getting used to how much cooler things were in Chicago than back home – and shit, how much cooler people were.

Eddie clocks you sitting on top of the counter with one leg crossed under you, the other swinging down the side as you sticker a stack of vinyl. You mouth along with the music, not even noticing him slip through the aisles as he stops in a random section with a perfect view of you across the small store.

He’d only come in here to kill some time between soundcheck and the gig tonight at a venue down the street. The rest of the band had gone to find some food, but Eddie wanted to check out the record store they passed on the drive in. And boy, was he glad he did.

He mindlessly flicks through the records in front of him, trying to come up with a good conversation starter. It wasn’t that often that he missed Steve Harrington, but he could sure use one of the boy’s famous pep talks right about now. Fuck, what was it about pretty girls that got him so tongue-tied? Probably the pretty part.

But you weren’t just pretty, you were obviously very cool, and he certainly wasn’t used to girls sharing the same interests as him – but he’d met a lot of them since he’d moved to Chicago a couple of months ago.

Just as he’s thinking about what albums he could pick out to impress you, the bell above the door jingles again. A guy around his age walks in, his short hair spiked, nose and ears pierced and tattoos peeking out from a crisp white t-shirt. He walks with confidence to where you sit and makes you jump slightly as he greets you boisterously.

“Shit, you scared me.”

He snickers and starts rummaging through a crate of cassettes by the counter.

“Yeah, you look like you were in the zone. Did you even notice you had a customer?”

You turn your head in Eddie’s direction just as he ducks his down, continuing to flick through the disco section. Wait, shit where’s the metal?

“Shit.” You whisper under your breath and turn your attention back to the other guy, not quite lowering your voice enough so Eddie couldn’t eavesdrop. “No, but in my defence this song is a banger.”

Severin, Severin, speak so slightly

Severin, down on your bended knee

“What the fuck are you listening to anyway?”

“I made a pre-Halloween mix. Music that led to goth before goth was a thing.” You frown as you try to unstick a bright red sticker from the price gun you’d been tapping on the pile of vinyl.

Eddie smiles to himself as he continues to pretend he’s browsing and not tuning into your conversation.

“Are you coming to The Allied tonight? There’s some new band from Indiana or something playing. Apparently, they do a sick cover of Master of Puppets.”

Eddie pauses in his faux perusing for a second as he awaits your reply.

“I wasn’t really planning on it, no.”

The guy huffs, “No? What was your plan, going home to sulk to The Velvet Underground?”

“I don’t sulk–“

“You do when you listen to The Velvet Underground.”

“What do you want me to do? Pogo to Heroin? Anyway, I was gonna work on an article actually.”

“Why don’t you write about this band tonight? Tim says they’re pretty good. He saw them a couple of weeks ago at the Metro.”

“Tim said that about that god-awful noise band that played at De Salle’s. It was the worst four hours of my life. I thought my ears were actually going to bleed.”

“Whatever, you say that like you’re not currently playing the most depressing German synth music that nobody in their right mind would listen to.” He points his hand in the air, drawing your attention to the new song playing from the speakers behind you.

“First of all, this is David Bowie’s Low. And if you knew as much about music as you claim to, you’d know that this was his seminal work in his Berlin era and an ambient soundscape masterpiece. Secondly–“

“I like it.”

Both of your heads shoot up at Eddie’s interruption. He blushes and clears his throat as you catch his eye and the corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry, I just–it’s a good mixtape. I like the theme.” He frowns and shakes his head at himself, he doesn’t know what came over him. Who is this guy that’s bothering you, anyway? You have amazing taste and he’s now sure you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. You gesture in his direction and look back at the guy that’s teasing you.

“The customer is always right, Simon.”

Eddie moves quickly to the B section and finds the album you were talking about before heading over to you.

“Did you find everything you need?” You smile at him sweetly as you hop off the counter and take the record from him. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before. Customer service isn’t exactly my strongest skill.”

The guy, Simon, snorts. Eddie can’t take his eyes off the way your face lights up quietly when you realise what album he picked.

“What are your strongest skills?” That was such a weird question Munson, what the hell?

You look up at him a little taken aback, before a small smile creeps up on you.

“Talking about music…or” you shake your head in contemplation, “writing about it actually.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Maybe it’s not so much a skill, more like an obsession.”

“She’s actually kind of good.” Simon butts in with a shrug and you roll your eyes.

“Such a high compliment cuz.”

You were cousins. He still had a shot.

“You write for magazines?”

“Zines mostly,” you point to a stack of xeroxed pamphlets on the counter, “but I’ve published a few reviews with Spin and The Face.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That’s pretty cool.”

You breathe out a laugh and take the cash he hands you, collecting his change. “Thanks.”

“Wait, you're Eddie, right?” He turns to Simon, almost forgetting he was there. “Your band’s playing at The Allied tonight? I met your drummer Gareth at a show last week.”

“Uh yeah, that’s me. We’re called Corroded Coffin.”

“Cool name.” You smirk and hand him his record wrapped in paper. Eddie tucks it under his arm, his dimples showing as he smiles back at you.

“Thanks.”

“You’re from Indiana then?” You call back to Simon’s earlier statement, as Eddie doesn’t make a move to immediately leave.

He rubs the back of his neck as he nods, “Yeah. Just moved here a couple of months ago with my band.”

“Welcome to Chicago, Eddie.” You smile and introduce yourself, “Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for you…vinyl wise I mean.”

“Thanks,” he scratches the stubble on his jaw before stepping away from the counter. “Maybe I’ll see you tonight at the show?” He tries to keep his voice casual, but there’s a hint of hope in there.

You bite your lip and shrug, “Yeah, maybe you will.”

Eddie nods and takes his queue to leave, the bell jingling again as he steps back out into the cold.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” Simon mocks you in a breathy imitation and you roll your eyes. “So now that you know the singer is cute are you coming?”

“Obviously! You better get me on the door list, or I swear to god I’m telling Aunt Carol about the stash in your underwear drawer.”

***

“Hey, Carlos.” You greet your friend at the door of The Allied, who waves you in without payment. “That Darondo record came in, I put it aside for you.” You call back on your way in, hearing a muffled thanks as the music from inside hits your eardrums.

There’s a decent crowd tonight, and you have to push past a few people to reach the sticky top bar.

“Oh, she showed up! Surprise, surprise.” Simon makes his way over to you, ignoring the calls of indignance as he passes other customers. He slings a rag over his shoulder, which makes you bite your lip, attempting to hold in a laugh, remembering how he’d practised that move in the mirror when he turned twenty-one and landed the second most coveted job of your teenage selves.

You shrug nonchalantly, despite your cousin knowing the exact reason you’re here. “I ended up doing inventory ‘till late. Thought I may as well drop by before catching the L.”

Simon flicks your nose, your retaliating slap missing him as he moves to pour your drink. You thank him with a forced smile when he slides it across the bar, picking it up and turning to find a spot in the crowd.

“No tip?”

You call over your shoulder, “Yeah, take it easy on the cologne.” You smirk, not even having to turn around to know he’s probably sniffing his shirt.

You take your usual spot leaning against the wall, up the back and away from most of the crowd. Your rule was front row or back. None of that squished in the middle, view blocked by the tallest guy you’d ever seen crap. Either it was front and centre, immersed in the moment, or your own space with a view of it all.  

You’d never be up front for a band you didn’t know, and tonight was no exception, no matter how large the butterflies in your stomach at the prospect of seeing him again.

You don’t know what it was about Eddie, apart from the obvious fact that he was gorgeous. Maybe it was something in his presence. But when he walked up to the counter earlier with a record you’d just been talking about and a shy smile on his face – you were a goner.

The murmurs of the crowd quieten when the house lights are switched off, a yellow glow on the stage and above the bar now the only sources of light.

There are a few enthusiastic cheers when the band appear from a door behind the stage and a smattering of applause as they take their place. You take a sip of your drink, ignoring the feeling in your chest when Eddie steps up to the mic and adjusts his red Warlock guitar. He smiles and you duck your head, trying not to look too much like the girl who’s just fallen for a lead singer when he addresses the crowd.

“Evening. Hope you brought your earplugs, this one’s new.” The quiet, reservedness of his introduction and the boy you’d met earlier is undone with the first crashing of cymbals and thrash of power chords.

Stage Eddie isn’t what you were expecting, but still somehow makes total sense. He’s more comfortable, more himself up there as he thrashes back and forth, hair whipping wildly. And they’re good. Really good.

Maybe you’d write about them after all.

The band are almost through their set when he spots you. Your back straightens as his eyes lock onto yours. Normally you hate making eye contact with someone on stage, but you can’t seem to look away when his chocolate-brown gaze twinkles over the heads of the rest of the crowd. In between songs, he gives you a wave, and you nod, returning his small smile.

When they finish, you move back to the bar. Waiting for the lingering fans to clear over a rum and coke. You’re only on your second sip when you feel a burning hot presence behind you.

“You made it.”

You turn around, and Eddie leans an arm on the bar beside you, moving in closer as the growing line pushes him forward.

“I did.” You nod, taking another sip of your drink.

He clears his throat, pushing his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“So, uh, what did you think?”

You smile, “I think you’re going to fit in very well here.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” he chuckles.

“Oh, it is. You’re one of us now. Welcome to the dark side, Eddie.”

His eyebrows raise, the ghost of a smirk kicking up when you’re interrupted by your cousin.

“Man, that was sick! What can I get ya?”

Eddie thanks Simon, then looks back at you, “What are you having?” He holds up two fingers when you answer, signalling for another round, then starts playing with a beermat while you wait. Your eyes are trained to the glint of silver on his fingers.

“How are you liking Chicago so far?”

Eddie looks back at you and puffs his cheeks up as he exhales. “Honestly?... I didn’t know life could be this good.”

You feel a sharp tingling in your nose as your eyes well up a little for the boy standing in front of you, his cheeks dusted with pink as he tries to hold back a smile.

“Trust me, things are only gonna get better from here.”

“Yeah?” He beams at you then and you inhale deeply as you fight the urge to reach out and wrap your arms around him.

“Yeah.”

***

Eddie had seen you a few times since the gig at The Allied. Dropping into the record store when he could. In small crowds at gigs in the city. You’d greet him with a hug or a squeeze to the arm that never failed to get his heart rate going.

Today, he’d gotten off early from his temporary new gig at the auto shop and he found himself parked outside the record store.

It was overcast, but there was no bite to the air. A balmy wind tousling his hair as he ran across the street to the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, avoiding the fat drops of rain that had begun to fall sporadically.

He spots you through the window when he makes his back to the store, bobbing your head along to whatever’s playing as you fill the racks. The now familiar bell jingles and he smiles when he recognises Joy Division over the speakers. He’d seen you in their shirt on more than one occasion.

He meets you as you're walking back to the counter.

“Oh, hey Eddie.” You smile and do a double take, taking in his greasy coveralls, and suddenly he’s wishing he’d gone home and showered. Even if it was an hour out of his way.

“Hey.” He places a coffee on the counter along with a white paper bag. “Thought you might like a mid-afternoon pick me up. I’ve uh, I’ve seen you with one of those cinnamon things before.”

Your eyes light up as you inspect the inside of the bag. “Oh my god, you’re my hero! Thank you, that’s so sweet.”

He shrugs, taking a step back from the counter, his own black coffee still clutched in his hands.

“So, this is the day job then huh?” You gesture to his outfit.

He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah for now. Until the music starts paying off. If the music starts paying off.”

You nod, taking a bite of your cinnamon scroll and he can’t help but smirk at the way your eyes quickly roll to the back of your head. “It will.”

His free hand goes to his pocket, face hidden slightly by his hair as he tucks into himself at your confident statement.

“Thanks.” He turns around to start perusing the aisles.

“Oh, we will be getting the new Metallica album on the day of release by the way. I’ll put a tape aside for you.”

“Thank you.” He offers you a smile over his shoulder, and you tip your coffee to him.

He takes his time flicking through the rows, a few customers coming and going as he does, although he knows exactly what he’s looking for. Once the store is quiet again, he walks back over to you, selection in hand.

“Lee Hazelwood?” You take the record from him with a look of surprise.

He nods, “Yeah, I liked that song on that pre-goth mixtape you gave me. It’s like the kind of thing my uncle would listen to but…”

“Sinister.”

“Yeah.”

You smile, “It’s cool isn’t it? You know he actually wrote These Boots Are Made For Walkin’. Helped save Nancy Sinatra’s career after the teeny-bopper thing didn’t work out. They made a couple of albums together actually, and you know the first time he retired from the music industry was because the success of The Beatles’ made him depressed.”

He leans his arms on the counter as you talk. “Wow, you really are a wealth of knowledge for this stuff huh?”

You shrug, “What else is there?”

“Apart from books.”

You nod, “Good movies.”

He smiles, “Pizza.”

“Dumplings.”

“DnD”

You frown, “That nerdy board game?”

“No, uh d–dumplings like you said, and uh– dough–doughnuts?”

You scrunch up your face, “Okay,” and giggle at Eddie’s strained smile.

“So uh, what–would you–“ Not screwing this up at all Munson. “Would you maybe wanna do that together sometime? The pizza and dumplings, or probably one or the other I guess, and a movie, good music–“ he blows out a puff of air, scrunching up his face.

“Are you asking if I wanna go see a movie?”

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically, “that and dinner. If you want.”

“I do like both those things.” You smile. “How about Thursday? I finish closing up at six.”

“Yeah. Cool. Thursday sounds good.” The guys and their weekly standing appointment for band practice would not agree.

***

Thursday rolls around faster than Eddie’s prepared for. Predictably, his bandmates all made fun of him for cancelling practice for you. But he just ignored the high-pitched ooohs and went to make sure his lucky Sabbath shirt was washed before he needed it.

He’s wearing it now as he paces outside the movie theatre, twisting his rings, oblivious to you sneaking up behind him until it’s too late.

“Boo!”

“Jesus Christ.” He jumps and twists around, your hands that had reached out to scare him still on his hips, his arms float in the air for a second before landing on your shoulders.

“You’re on edge,” you tease before your face sets a little more seriously. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, just uh, you wanna head in? It starts in like five minutes.”

You nod, your hands leaving his waist as his fall back to his sides. “What are we seeing anyway?” You look up at the black lettering above you, smiling just as Eddie reveals your viewing choice for the night.

“Thought we could see Young Frankenstein. Saw they were doing an old-school horror weekend here in the paper.”

“That sounds great.”

He lets out a breath of relief when you bump his shoulder affectionately, and you begin walking into the theatre side by side.

“Now the real important question Eddie Munson. What are your go-to movie snacks?”

His hand twitches when it accidentally brushes the back of yours.

“Well, popcorn obviously.”

“Obviously.” You nod.

“Sour Patch Kids and you gotta add a packet of Reese’s Pieces in there too.”

“Wait, in there as in–?”

“In the popcorn bucket. All of it. Like a good version of a trail mix.”

You grin, “Very interesting.”

“Just wait till you try it, sweetheart, you’ll never do it any other way.”

You laugh, “Okay, lead the way.”

He bows, gesturing his hand towards the confection stand. “After you m’lady.”

Your giggle, Eddie quickly finds out is his new favourite sound. When it appears again in the movie theatre, he can’t seem to keep his eyes on Gene Wilder, only watching you light up with laughter.

He can’t quite believe how well it’s all going. That is until you’re sharing a large pepperoni, on the bench outside the place you insisted served the best “pies” in all of Chicago, and your confusion stops his heart for a second.

He groans when he takes the first bite of cheesy dough.

“Good right?”

He nods, chewing and swallowing quickly. “My uncle told me pizza wasn’t a first date kind of meal, but we don’t have anything like this back in Hawkins.”

You’re sitting so close that he notices you still right away.

“Wait, this is a date?”

“Oh,” he swears his heart drops to his stomach as he sees the surprise on your face. “Oh well, yeah I thought it was but I guess I–it doesn’t have to be, sorry.”

You reach out to grab his arm when he instinctively moves away, “No! I just didn’t realise you were asking me out, out. You kinda just kept listing food.” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “I want it to be a date.”

He bites his lip, looking back at you with eyebrows raised, “Really?”

“Yes,” you laugh, squeezing the arm still in your hold. “Of course. I would love to…be on a date with you right now.”

He beams, “Well, it’s your lucky night sweetheart.”

***

The date (once it’s established as one), goes so well Eddie finds himself back at your apartment, admiring your wall lined with records while you find the both of you a drink.

His eyebrows marry together when he notices Dusty Springfield next to the Sex Pistols.

“What’s the system here?” You hand him a beer when you reappear by his side. “Not by genre?”

“No. Autobiographical.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“How–?”

“Well,” you step forward, reaching out to pick a plastic sleeve as if from memory, “if I want to find the song Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, I have to remember that I bought it for someone in the fall of 1983 but didn’t give it to them…for personal reasons.” You show him the white cover of the album.

“That sounds…”

“Comforting.”

He nods slowly, “Yes.”

“It is.”

God, you’re weird. And cute. And cool. And, shit he was going for it, you said you wanted to be on a date with him. You invited him back to your place. No one’s ever done that before. He should go for it. He’s going for it–

Your lips feel even softer than he imagined, and he can’t help but give himself a mental high-five when you immediately move closer to him, face melting into the hand that cradles your cheek. You taste almost vanilla-y with the combo of rum and coke still sitting on your tongue when his meets yours. He places his beer down on the coffee table, and your lips follow him when he has to dip down slightly before his free hand comes to sit on your waist.

You part for a breath, “Didn’t realise vinyl categorisation would get you so hot.” You tease him, lips plump and eyes slightly glazed over, and he’s never wanted anything more in his life than to keep you looking at him like this.

“Yeah uh, really love that Dewey Decimal system.” He leans close to capture your lips again, but you pull back, leaving him to chase you.

“The Dewey Decimal system is for books.” You shake your head.

Eddie huffs, “I really don’t care.” He finally finds your lips again and he swears they taste even sweeter the second time, despite being tainted by his own.

You guide him back to slowly sit on the couch, bodies falling a little clumsily together before you situate yourself in his lap, legs straddling his. You both stay like that for what could be hours for all Eddie cares, lips clicking in the silence.

“Fuck, I could kiss you all night.” He leans his forehead against yours, heavy breathing synced with your own, as you finally come up for air.

You shake your head, eyes soft and reassuring.

“I’m not going anywhere, Eddie.”

God dammit, is he glad he left Hawkins.

Tagging: @storiesbyrhi (I hope you like the coffee shop across from the record store 😉), @bettyfrommars (I finished it!)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #she writes #Spotify

[tomblythismyhusband]

good girl [billythekid x fem!reader]

[summary]: billythekid x fem!reader | anon request | After misbehaving at the bar, Billy gives you the punishment you deserve.

[warnings]: 18+, MDNI, oral m!receiving, brat!reader, dom!billy, choking, language, praise!kink

[wc]: 2.1k

[note]: i forgot abt this request this has been in my drafts FOREVER. i’m so sorry anon for taking a whole month to write this :,)

The sound of boot stomping and fiddle playing could be heard from far away as you walked along the dusty town road towards the bar. Billy walked next to you, his gun belt clinking with the hurried steps.

“I’m excited.” You said cheerfully, grinning up at Billy. Your skirt swished with every step you took, and you made sure it did, you wanted a loose dress for tonight.. Your arm was hooked though Billy’s. You felt special, almost like he was escorting you.

Billy looked down at you. “Yea? Didn’t think you’d even want to go.” He chuckled, obviously joking.

You let out a hum, shaking your head. “Very funny. You know I love dancin’. Hell- I could dance all night if I could.”

Billy’s lips pulled into a smile. He liked how peppy you were. He always tended to be a little pessimistic when it came to well- anything. Especially in public settings.

“I don’t know if I could handle dancing all night darlin’.” Billy said slowly, getting the idea into your head before you get the chance to drag him across the dance floor all night.

You chuckled, “I know… I know..”

You both arrived to the front steps of the bar and walked up together, your arm in his. Billy opened the door for you, you gave him a giggle in return.

“Such a gentleman!” You joked as he scoffed and followed you inside. The bar was lively with boot stomping, drinking and music. A grin immediately grew on your face when you stepped inside. You loved events like these, where you were able to just let go, get a little alcohol in your system and dance your worries away.

You tugged at Billy’s hand and tried to pull him deeper into the bar. Only- Billy didn’t budge.

He bent down and dropped his voice. “Darlin’ can we get a table and some whiskey before dancin’?” He murmured next to your ear. You pouted, hating that he didn’t want to start partying right away.

Billy cocked a brow and looked down at you. “Darlin.. Don’t give me that look.” He scolded lightly, hooking an arm around your waist. You huffed and nodded and followed Billy to the side of the venue where some tables were scattered about.

“Fine… then we dance.” You sighed, plopping down into a seat. Billy still stood, leaning on his arms to hover his face near yours as he gave you a reassuring smile. He kissed your nose, which was still scrunched with annoyance.

“Thanks doll.” He murmured, kissing you again. Only Billy was the one able to get you out of a pout with just a few kisses. You smiled softly up at him, eyes trailing over his relaxed expression.

“Now. What can I get ya from the bar?” He asked, standing up straighter, already digging in his pockets for cash.

You thought for a moment and then just shrugged. “Can't go wrong with whiskey.”

Billy chuckled and shook his head. “No, no you can’t.” He then glanced around and then back at you.

“Alright I’ll be right back- sit tight for me yea?” You nodded eagerly watching him as he turned to leave.

Once he left you let out a sigh as your eyes skimmed over all the dancing couples already on the dance floor. You knew Billy hated dancing and just did this to humor you- but you still disliked that he wasn’t even attempting to seem like he was interested.

Playing with a strand of hair between your fingers you sighed, bored out of your mind. No doubt the bar probably had a long line with the amount of people so it would be a whole before Billy returned.

Billy said to sit tight- so I’ll sit tight. You kept thinking over and over again. The longer you waited the more you ached for your body to be on the dance floor.

While you gazed at the crowd of people again something- or someone, caught your eye. It was a man, maybe 6ft tall, blonde hair and a trimmed beard. The man was staring at you, and you were now staring back. Your eyes widened as the man extended a hand as if to say, “Come dance?”

You bit your lip. Billy would be back later- what harm would five minutes do? You gave the man a nod and stood up, smoothing out your dress before swaying over to him. The man’s smile widened as you placed yourself in front of him.

“I’m guessing you like to dance huh?” He drawled, taking one of your hands.

“Oh yes!” You laughed, placing one hand on his shoulder. The music kicked up and before you knew it you were spinning, dipping, swaying and kicking. The man was a surprisingly good dancer, his lean build making his movements loose and graceful.

Time passed so quickly as you danced, hell- you didn’t even know how long you were out there. You assumed a while when the man you were dancing with dipped his head down to your ear and spoke, “You got a boyfriend? Cause there’s a man who’s been staring at you for about ten minutes now.”

Your head snapped up to where you’d been originally sitting, waiting for Billy. And to your surprise there stood Billy, glass of whiskey in hand, stone faced as his eyes met yours. Your lips parted as you immediately wretched your hands from the man without a word, and started to weave through the crowds of other dancers to get to him.

Billy downed his whiskey in one easy gulp and started to quickly stride to the bar exit. This wasn’t good. He was pissed. You could already tell.

You quickly skittered after him, calling his name in earnest. You watched as Billy pushed out of the doors. You followed as fast as you could manage. The chilly desert air hit you as you pushed yourself outside as well.

“Billy!” You called, catching up to him as he walked down the steps of the bar. You made a move to place yourself in front of him, blocking him from moving any further.

“What the hell.” He growled, glaring down at you.

“I just wanted to dance.” You whined, crossing your arms as you did so.

“I told you to wait for me!” Billy exclaimed, throwing his hands up and back down to his sides.

You huffed and rolled your eyes, making a big show of it as well. “You were taking too long, it’s not my fault.”

Billy scoffed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

“Why are you acting like I did something wrong! Like I said- I just wanted to dance!” You pouted, looking up at him.

Billy placed his hands on his hips and stared at you for a moment, tight lipped and intense. “We’re going home.” He said through gritted teeth after a moment of deafening silence.

You gaped at him as he walked past you, walking back down the road towards the place you both were staying for the moment. You followed him, trying to make conversation every few minutes, saying you were sorry. Every time you spoke you were met with angry silence from Billy.

When you and Billy finally made it back to the tiny ranch cottage you couldn’t bear the silence anymore. Once you were both inside you slammed the door and crossed your arms, staring at Billy.

“I said I was sorry!” You exclaimed. “There’s no need for silence.”

Billy’s jaw ticked as he faced you. “You don’t listen. And for me to find you with some random bastard-“

You let out a loud sigh. “God- it’s not like I was kissin’ him.. we were dancing!”

Billy glared at you now, anger growing at every word you uttered.

“It’s your fault you took so long!” You whined. You crossed your arms and looked up at him.

Billy scoffed and turned, walking towards the bedroom, leaving you alone.

“Don’t you walk away from me!” You called, annoyed as you hurriedly followed him down the hall into the bedroom. When you walked into the room you immediately heard the door slam behind you as a hand encased your neck. Billy pushed you up against the door, his calloused digits fingering your already thumping pulse.

“You know better than to talk to me like that.” Billy said in a low voice. His words made your body tense.

“Talk like what? I’m not doing anything.” You replied quickly.

Billy’s eyes darted over your face, traces of anger still flickering in them. “You’ve been very bad tonight. You know that? Dancing with another man… talking back… and the whining..” Billy murmured.

You scoffed. “If you're mad about the other man- don’t be. I obviously don’t care about him.”

Billy leaned in and nipped at your ear lobe, dropping his voice down to a barely audible whisper. “You’ve forgotten that you're mine… and only mine.”

Your chest squeezed as the breath from your lungs abandoned you. If Billy knew one thing for sure- he knew how to turn you on. One of his hands was already trailing up your thigh over your dress.

“Billy-“ You moaned softly, hating the amount of desperation in your voice. Billy let out a deep growl.

“Now you want me.. of course only when I touch you.” He mumbled.

“Please- “ You choked, a spot of wetness already gathering in your panties.

Billy then let go of you, stepping back. “No.. you’ve been a bad girl.. you don’t deserve to be rewarded now do you?”

You let out a sound of protest, squirming as you still stood pressed against the door.

“Billy please, I’m sorry.” You whined.

Billy’s eyes flicked down your body. He liked you like this. Desperate.

“Be a good girl and get on your knees for me. Maybe then you’ll be rewarded.” He directed.

You immediately complied, sinking down to your knees onto the hard wooden floor. Billy stepped forward and took a hand to touch your face. He skimmed a thumb over your lips.

Impatient, you took his thumb into your mouth, biting on it slightly.

“So needy.” Billy murmured. He pressed his thumb down onto your tongue, causing you to emit a choked sound. Billy smirked at you before slipping his thumb out of your mouth.

Before you knew it Billy’s belt was discarded, clacking to the ground. Billy lowered his pants pulling his hard cock out. You stared at it wide eyed. A soft whimper escaped your lips as Billy massaged a finger over the tip.

“Open.” He murmured. You kept your mouth shut, staring up at him in defiance.

“Make me.” You replied, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Is that how you want to be a doll?” Billy chuckled, lifting an eyebrow as he stroked his cock once. He then took a fistful of your hair and pulled it, so your head was tilted upwards. You let out a soft moan at the unexpected action.

“You wish this was that man’s cock? The one you were dancing with? You want to take his cock instead?” He growled.

You shook your head, a soft no leaving your lips.

“It seems like you wish it was.” He taunted. With that you immediately pulled your head down, placing your lips on Billy’s cock.

“Good girl.” Billy drawled as your lips wrapped fully around him.

You began to bob your head, spit coating the length of his shaft as Billy threw his head back, choked moans escaping his throat. You kissed the tip before taking him into your mouth again.

Billy dug his hands painfully into your hair, your little moans muffled as you moved.

“Just like that.” Billy urged as he began to hit the back of your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut as he began to fuck your mouth with more force than before.

Tears pricked at your eyes as Billy’s hands dug more into your hair.

“Fuck- Fu-“ Billy groaned, as his thrusts began to become sloppier.

Billy pushed into your mouth slower now, the tip of his cock fully against the back of your throat. You let out choking sounds that made Billy smirk.

Finally Billy’s eyes rolled back into his head as he gave one more deep stroke. Warm spurts of cum filled your mouth as he came. He pulled his cock from your mouth as you swallowed every bit of his load.

He looked down at you after recovering from the orgasm, a pleased expression on his face.

Billy then made a quick flick of his fingers. “Good… Come here doll…” He said slowly, his mouth still pulled into a lust drunk grin. You stood shakily, legs feeling weak from being bent.

Billy took your face in his hands and kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth. His lips were soft, gentle in contrast to how his hands were. When he broke from the kiss he stared into your eyes.

“I think you’ve earned yourself a turn darlin’.”

#billythekidxreader #billy the kid x fem!reader #billy bonney x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #billy the kid #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x yn #tom blyth x fem!reader #tom blyth one shot #tom blyth fic #tom blyth x you #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth smut #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x you

[mit0bee]

hello!! I've read some of your works, and I just want to say that I LOVE THEM SOO MUCHHDBRJFH and, may I request Malleus, Vil, and Rook with Lily of the valley? Thank you!! 💞

AHHHHHHAIOFHAWOIFH TYSM!! I totally didnt get to this like 5 months later i swear

Meloras Bouquet

Stuff you should read: Vil's might be a little OOC oopsies, Established relationship (Vil, Leona) old post!!!

Characters: Malleus Draconia, Vil Schnoenheit

Flowers:

Lily of the Valley - Napping together

MALLEUS DRACONIA

It wasn't supposed to happen but a little midnight stroll with him ended up becoming a “hey wanna come over to ramshackle for a slumber party”

and ofc he said yes he would bend over backwards for you

So cue to the walk to ramshackle (or to the mirror thingies?) and he is so excited. if he had a tail it would be wagging

Once you get there, he's practically beaming with excitement

He wants to be elegant about it though so he's being chill (trying to)

Originally, he was supposed to sleep in his own bed, the slumber party went into the late hours of the night, and you fell asleep.

On his shoulder. while watching like. harry potter or something

He was ranting about the gargoyles and how accurate they were, and you hit the snooze button on accident

He didn't even notice until you were already far too gone on his shoulder

He decided to carry you to your bed from the living room, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead like Lilia did with him when he was young

“Goodnight, Child of Man. Sweet Dreams.”

If you either wake up and pull him into bed, or find him on the couch at midnight and invite him into your bed, he'll accept with obvious, not very hidden excitement.

VIL SCHNOENHEIT

After hanging out with Epel for the majority of the afternoon in the botanical gardens, all you wanted was to visit your dear boyfriend, Vil

But you forgot to acknowledge the dirt staining your face and clothes from your adventures, so when you came into Vil's room, not only were you staining his carpet, but you also looked like a zombie!

Whatever he was doing before, you now had his full attention. He wasn't afraid to get his hands a little dirty.

So now hes helping you wipe your face off, letting you use his shower, putting on a protective face mask to defend against major acne from all the dirt.

He gave you one of his very few well-worn hoodies (he has like. 2 that are well worn.) and a pair of his pyjama pants while he takes your dirty clothes to the washer a few doors down.

Little did he know, when you take your s/o, surround them in you, and then leave them in your room for even a few minutes after a labour-filled day? you get an s/o snoozing on your bed, curled up in your blankets.

He was a little surprised to come back to that, but all in all quite flattered that you felt so comfortable

He checked the time (sleeping too much could cause coarse skin! or something) and once he confirmed it was a proper time to go to bed, he quickly got under the covers with you, his hands finding purchase on your waist.

That was probably one of the quickest times he's fallen asleep

This has been ROTTING in my drafts for months and I probably wont finish it so here you go 😭

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

m.list

@mit0bee 's work, please do not steal!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID: a sketch page of various drawings of Willow Park from the owl house. From left to right the drawings are: timeskip willow playing flyer derby, Willow in her season 1 casual outfit next to her in her season 3 Halloween costume, Willow as Anne in an amphibia au, young willow doing pottery with her dad Gilbert, young willow and amity holding hands/hugging and smiling, and willow looking at clover, who's perched on her finger and wearing a dress and wig made of yarn so as to resemble Willow. Willow is trying to hold back laughter while clover looks unamused. In the center is a drawing of Willow drawing a large spell circle with her staff, and the title of the sketch page reads "willow week 2023", with each drawing labeled as a specific day/prompt, such as day 3: flyer derby/fav on-screen outfit, day 1: crossover, day 2: childhood/father-daughter, or day 1: palismen bonding. Drawings 2, 6, and 7 are coloured while the rest are uncoloured. The background is a scribbly green. End ID]

hi I’m only a month or so late to it BUT! Nearly out of the mines (finals) and that means i can post the sketch page i worked on for Willow Week! Hosted by @agrebel18

#the owl house #toh #willow park #willow week 2023 #gilbert park #amity blight #eh yeah. They’re there too #anyway i had. So many issues regarding the quality of this drawing man #I MADE THE CANVAS TOO GOTDANG BIG!!! #im gonna draft this first and then do a quality review #anyway i wanted to do willow week back when it was actually running but like i said. Ihave been in the mines #almost out though! Just gotta get through Wednesday #still kinda going insane in my enclosure though. Idk if its a period mood swing or if imjust drinking internet pond water #and thats why I’m starting to think evil thoughts #ive just been watching jerma play simpsons hit and run #fr though I’m being digitally waterboarded i need to go to a social excursion so bad #god. I missed posting art just to vent in the tags. Exhilarating. This is my therapy #anyway hope you enjoy this aggie and all other willow enjoyers #also i missed posting abt the 2 month anniversary of the finale #im not coping <3

[compacflt]

idk if this question has already been answered or not but idrc, would your ice have considered it "talking about it" to admit his physical attraction towards mav? like calling him beautiful or genuinely complementing him. this goes for mav too

i do feel post debriefing ice would call mav beautiful openly or some sappy bs like that

love your writing 💌

anon i need you to know this ask was so cute it made me physically nauseous. i was sick all week thinking about how cute this ask was. thank you for sending it.

i actually had a couple drabbles where yes ice both pre- and post-TGM mission is like yeah im physically attracted to you, but it’s less like “oh my god you’re so hot 😍” and more like “i mean, yeah, you objectively look like tom cruise so it’s not like i really have a choice.”

but “beautiful” specifically i had not thought of, and it has knocked me off my feet and made me go feral/rabid/undomesticated for a few days straight, so i will be writing something about this. thanks.

#the reason there is very little of maverick in ch9 of wwgattai is because it would all be 100% fluff. #that’s the whole reason i started writing the drabbles. #i had to play up the ‘oh no we’re still not really together’ bit for the plot but #by the late aughts/early 2010s these are two old men who are extremely consciously in love #& just can’t say it out loud because it might change everything/have an effect on their careers #something that Should Be Done before they die but they both know so they don’t really HAVE to talk about it #I still don’t think i hit that feeling exactly which is disappointing but whatever #cutest ask ever anon. ill be thinking about this for months. #i clearly didn’t give their pre-2000s sex life a ton of thought but im sure ice was calling him ‘pretty boy’ in bed from day one #jsyk #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #top gun #top gun maverick #asks #edts notes #ANON!!! You sent this ask two months ago & this has just been sitting in my drafts sorry sorry sorry #first 3 are pre-tgm and last one is post-tgm (mav retiring ❤️) #anon—i just want you to know how seriously i took this ask; two/three months later. i wasn’t planning on writing out their wedding night #at all #this ask was what made me write their wedding LMAO

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

Aziraphale is doomed because of Good Omens naming conventions (prepare for pain)

Aziraphale’s (AKA Mr. Fell’s) name drives me insane because

Good Omens is so precise in its use of words (almost like it was a book first!) I didn’t know anathema was a word (yes, US education is dire, I know) which means “vehemently disliking” or, in the religious sense, excommunication

Anathema Device in Good Omens 1 is a witch (antithesis to the church,) yet is loved by Newton Pulsifier, who, based on their family histories, should hate and seek to destroy her

Her name being Anathema is a subversion of expectations; anathema should mean repulsive, tearing apart, unholy, and according to God’s plan, she is— but she really isn’t! She brings everyone together! Love wins!

Also…… Device. She’s a literal plot device

(Also Newton being a revered scientific figure VS Newt being woefully inept at computers— the ironing)

Aziraphale isn’t a real Biblical name, but one that sounds similar to actual scripture. His chosen human name is Mr. Fell because it sounds similar and is a real last name

Or

Aziraphale, despite everything over centuries, still takes Heaven’s side because he truly believes he can work within The Plan ™️ to save humanity and Crowley

He’s completely incapable of grasping why Crowley wouldn’t want to go back to being an angel (because, who wouldn’t?)

He loves Crowley because he sees the good in him, but also still sees Goodness and Heaven as inextricably intwined

What’s tearing him and Crowley apart isn’t their mutual desire (to be together forever,) but that Crowley wants them to be on “Their own side,” while Aziraphale wants Crowley to be on the side of Good and therefore Heaven

Aziraphale remembers Crowley’s joy as an angel and wants to take away the pain of his Fall. His biggest fears and motivations as a character are losing Crowley and Falling himself

He’s now in the highest position of power possible and it’s strongly indicated that he’s going to have to reckon with the Second Coming. He may have been able to get away with a bit of deviance before, but this was for centuries when he and Crowley flew under the radar. He keeps defying divine will and getting away with far more (that we know of) than Crowley ever did to Fall

So, considering Good Omens’ use of metaphor in names and how high in Heaven Aziraphale is now—

Is Mr. Fell going to Fall?

#ive been mulling this over forever and it drives me nuts #like ive had the anathema analysis in my drafts for over a month now #the SECOND he said he was mr. fell i was like oh babe you’re doomed #it might be a massive red herring but it just seems too obvious to not be chekov’s gun (see i know writery words!) #how are you gonna have an ANGEL whose last name is FELL like CMON #and also PAST TENSE?????? #idk maybe anathema and newton’s names being ironic defenestrate my point idk #all i’m saying is i really really really want an aziraphale fall arc pls and thank u #and it feels so obvious and plausible #and if the plot really was planned out years ago having a fall arc for aziraphale makes sense #don’t mind me just chewing on glass #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #good omens speculation #newton pulsifier #newt pulsifer #anathema #anathema device #good omens 1 #neil gaiman #<- i’m so fuckin nosy!! aghhh!!! #plus aziraphale had very little character growth this season comparitively my man needs to suffer for a bit (as a treat) #good omens predictions #good omens 3

[ethereal-kloud]

what if: someone (teen, well adjusted, probably) reincarnates as hibari kyōya?

think of a reincarnated male (probably) from modern world, no magic or anything other than technology, probably no major religious beliefs in life-after-death or anything of the sort.

and then imagine that same teen suddenly waking up as a baby, where wanting to walk off by himself is perfectly fine and okay. where sometimes some new relative of his has the ability to make him drowsy, or can heal his scrapes with some strange glow, or the fact that his great uncle is somehow some a literate baby looking thing, but is also somehow older than his grandma.

and the kidnappings, probably, because hey, it’s eye of the storm fon’s baby relative that he’s obviously fond of, right? they could totally get something out of him!

(wrong and nobody ever tried again. probably partly because of what fon did in response, and partly because how was this actual toddler active.

if this happened in canon, i imagine kyōya’s mind would be still fuzzy enough to not have that awareness of the danger he’s in and the will to spark dying will flames. but this one??? with self preservation and the knowledge of dying once sends him straight to activation.)

maybe tsuna or takeshi or maybe even shōichi??? reminding oc!kyōya of somebody he used to know.

ummm when i wrote this i think i had a scene where fon found out (my reasoning was that he saw that kyōya looked like him, old in a too young body) and asked about it and i think it was meant to give oc a little more closure (though i also wrote that he had resolved himself to live as kyōya when he was four??? dunno how accurate that is.)

i,,, actually have a lot more snippets and semi-incorrect-quotes and headcanons than i thought. i guess i’ll include them here, they’re not as bad as i thought they were.

———

kyōya has fon wrapped around his fingers, not that he knows it

Kyōya is all instinct, would go in guns (tonfa) blazing. However, oc is more cautious, and can plan how to talk and scheme his way out of a situation. He also like controlled violence, and so Mukuro’s battle goes a bit differently

kyōya has all but adopted all the street cats. and birds. all of them. including a falcon he is particularly fond of. nobody knows how in the world he tamed that, but he did.

kyōya has connections

kyōya also has minor mist flames

kyōya probably uses his old identity as a disguise, if he had to, simply because who he used to be does not exist.

———

(later part of the conversation because the beginning makes me cringe)

Fon nods, briefly and sadly, but with a weight lifted off of his shoulders. Probably slightly happy that his nephew was never replaced, he’s just always been a bit off and knowing. He probably also thinks it makes Kyōya feel better by talking about it. He’s kind like that.

“Remember to call if you need anything, Kyōya,” he reminds, face back into that calm state. “I will always have time for you.”

He jumps off, but Kyōya is— that reassurance means more to him than he would ever know. Because he knows he’s busy, with the Triads sending him on diplomatic missions because he’s unaffiliated with any particular branch, and that he’s completely fine with the workload, but sometimes just drops on his bed in Kyōya’s room that he had added a year ago. He knows, and to offer at least words and an open ear for his problems of annoying loud children and the fact that the adults just won’t learn, means the world to Kyōya.

(But if his great-uncle ever wants to break free and they won’t let him… He just has to say the word.

Kyōya doesn’t just keep the peace in Namimori, after all, and Irie promised him any favor, as long as he didn’t have to get physically envolved.

Kyōya is a Cloud, and his Physical Territory is Namimori. However, who said a Cloud only had one? Who decided that all Clouds only kept one thing, weren’t greedy for another and weren’t possessive enough to pull it off?)

———

“Uncle.”

“Yes, Kyōya—?”

“A not-baby with a yellow pacifier is in Namimori. He is shooting a first year middle schooler named Sawada Tsunayoshi with bullets that cause him to shout something about his “Dying Will” in his boxers.”

Fon paused. “…I see. So, Reborn is in Namimori. Ah— I heard a rumor that he was going to Japan to train the next Vongola Decimo. Perhaps that’s why?” he suggested. “That Herbivore? Please, the way he’s doing it is just going to make him terrified and reject it even more. He might even become more like his mother as a defense mechanism.”

———

"Hibari, is that a falcon." Despite the format, Kyōya knows it wasn't really a question. "Yes. You have eyes, don't you?" he dismisses. Honestly, his falcon isn't that much of a shock, is it? He knows for a fact he flies around Namimori regularly, and there are no hunters in his town that would dare shoot down any of the birds.

———

reborn: is looking looking for kyōya

kyōya: in the park

reborn: ah, there he—

reborn:

kyōya:

reborn:

kyōya, sighing: what do you want, hitman?

reborn: why are you covered in cats

kyōya: it's winter

reborn, exasperated: nevermind! i'll come back later

#terrible horrible ideas #khr au #hibari kyoya #ik this has been done with tsuna #but think about the hibari clan/whatever fam kyōya has dynamics #like sure kyōya is like that probably partly bc of cloud instincts #and it was probably treated as normal #but imagine the confusion of a reincarnated teen #who just wants to leave the house and hates being crowded #and their parents just *encouraging* it #imagine the self control oc!kyoya would have #*imagine how that would change canon* #anyway i actually did try and write something for this #but i lose motivation really quickly so #this had been in my drafts for *months* i just wanted it out

[ivyithink]

“It takes a lot to know a man

It takes a lot to understand

The warrior, the sage

The little boy enraged”

#my art #my doodles #this has been in my drafts for so long #went through so many sketches #not that happy about the result but it’s fine I guess #ugghhh I’m just tired of looking at this #but I’ve wanted to do a piece with those lyrics for months #I think about uhtred every time I hear them #what a journey he had #I’m actually glad I’ve finished this before the film comes out #feels appropriate #a humble tribute to a beloved character)) #the song is ‘it takes a lot to know a man’ by damien rice #for curious ones #those are kinda the only lyrics that fit this art but it’s a lovely song on its own) #the last kingdom #tlk #tlk uhtred #uhtred of bebbanburg #uhtred ragnarsson

[dadbots]

August… time to get spooky.

#dadbots.txt #this has been in my draft for... almost a month. Yikes. #I’ve been dissociating hella hard these past months or something. swear I don’t remember time moving this fast. maybe it’s just me tbh. #idk what to say about July other than… boring? not much happened and I don’t really remember it if I’m honest. just. mm. shrugs. #best way to describe it LOL #been sleeping a LOT lately and I think it’s fatigue again. was it like anything before? no. not at that rate (yet) but just. #where you wanna sleep and sleep and sleep type of fatigue. you never feel rested and just gotta sleep it off kinda. #just one of those moments yknow. #it sucks. all I’m doing is letting the days pass me by and ‘missing out’ on living life when I could be enjoying it. but I lost interest - #- in doing so for months - years now due to personal health matters. And whaddya know - it came back again. after months of healing. #I'm pretty pissed as it does feel like a slap in the face. but you win some - you lose some. Gonna try and fight through it. #I wrote something at the beginning of august but that got deleted. Had a breakdown and thought huh. what a great way to start the month - #and now it's almost september. Just like that. What a month it's been. Stuck on what else to say but that really. #don't want to keep talking about depressing stuff as that's what i used to do and realized hey. maybe you should stop doing that so often #and not use it so casually in humor and/or stuff. Even though I reblog vents here n' all. but yknow. #maybe it is hypocritical. but that's not the point. Just want to reflect and see if i've changed since coming back to the web after a year. #not like it's going bad. just wished this year was a bit more optimistic. Last year was rough & i'm afraid this year will be another repeat #though I did come out to a family member this month and that was like a punch to the gut. Considering my status with them and all. #won't get into that. for now let's just say i'm not too close with them. An impulsive choice on my end but hey. it went well. #and that's what matters tbh. My younger self would've thought i was actually insane. like to even DO that? really? #shocking. I'm still not over that moment. Probably one of my biggest achievements this year. #I'll update this if anything else comes to mind. none of this make sense and that's ok. clearing my mind right now. #let's see what september has in store for me. Hopefully it'll get better as things slow down w/ winter on its way. #hope y'all enjoyed your summer. 🖤🤘🏽

[hes-a-tough-kid]

If you see the final word count for my completed fic gently increasing over months and months no you dont

#i have realised that the ‘fast n loose’ method for churning out a fic doesnt work for me actually #i am so sad that so much of that fic was skipped- or told and not shown- or brushed over in favour of me forcing it out quickly #i know i did it for a good reason- that if i took my time with it and it grew bigger and bigger that there was a risk i would have exhausted #myself and not finished it at all which would have been way worse #i think actually taking 3 months to craft 15k chapters with many drafts makes me happier than churning out 4k in a week #that being said im so glad its finished and that- somehow- it did so much better than i would have ever dreamed <33 #now i can go back and make it what i want it to be without the pressure of racing against my own stamina #and. if im really honest. i didnt think i would still be into avatar for this long lmao #i thought id lose the brainrot at around month three so i had to finish the fic before then #and yet. month 7 and i draw spider in my sketchbook every day. i think about him every spare minute. #the brainrot is still kicking and im happy #anyway here i go to dive back into that fic and add even more angst and whump and maybe another hug. if spider is lucky #i also want to write a little one shot about Ngaire properly taking care of spider after something bad happens #but idk if people wanna read OC stuff and its certainly not my comfort zone so i might keep it to myself #N E WAY this was the biggest and dumbest ramble to myself about my own fics lmao i should really shut up and just go write :’)

[ranger-kellyn]

you know like. in hindsight. the biggest evidence of me being gay and on the aro spectrum was like. in elementary school when all the other girls were starting to go through the whole "celebrity crush" thing with like...dylan and cole sprouse and zac efron and like. idk. jesse mccartney. i just remember always internally being like "what the heck are any of you even tALKING ABOUT" and then actually seeing them on tv or something and being like????? i still don't??? get it??????????????? and i remember just picking someone just to have an answer bc it was asked an annoying amount of times and not because i genuinely had any sort of crush on them and like.......

#pretty sure i just picked jesse mccartney bc i liked his song beautiful soul ldkjh #then when prince caspian came out in 2008 i switched to whoever the guy who played caspian- -ben barnes #had to look up who it even was i forgot dklgh f shows how serious i was about that lmfAO #(i always lied to myself with that one saying i wanted to be in susan's spot kissing caspian #but what i Actually wanted was to be in caspian's spot kissing susan) #(which used to be a hindsight for the gay thing but now i'm wondering if that was hindsight for the trans thing too lol) #talking tag #this has been sitting on my drafts for months but i literally talked about it with besties tonight so like #might as well lol

[yunmew]

FANTASTIC MUSICIANS

😭😭😭

#Almost 2 hours straight of Ikegai Shun's voice 😭😭 #But oh my godddd they are incredible #When kids 'grow up' listening to only the best music and then *learn* from it 😭 #2023.06.27 #(Also I finally when to LIQUIDROOM! 😭🙏) #(I'll post music when I get back to the US) #(I also when through all my posts all my drafts (on all my blogs) looking for what I wrote the last time I saw them but it looks like I #never posted it and deleted the draft. I first saw Yahyel that one time I went to midnight sonic in 2018 but I first saw Ikegai Shun earlie #that day performing glitch with soil and pimp sessions - on a beach - with his most beautiful voice. It blew me awayyyyyy 😭😭😭 I still am #Shocked to this day I'm still moved by how beautiful that experience was 😭🙏 Then later that night at midnight sonic I was exhausted at #Like 2 am and was looking for a place to sit down and I walked past the entrance to the area where yahyel was performing and it shocked me #It was INSANE O_O some of the most incredible music I had ever heard live 😭😭😭 #I went in but I was so tired so I sat down at the back and started falling asleep but there music was so awazing 😭😭😭 there was a lot #of space so everyone was dancing and growing crazy and having an amazing time and I so wanted to join them but my body was giving out and #I kept falling asleep 😭😭😭 I was so sad 😥 #And then Komu_i just suddenly walked on stage and was like 'Hi~ we have a new song coming out together next month so well play it now 💕' #And it was sooooo incredible 😭😭😭 (you can imaging my shock because I had been trying to stay up all night in order to #see Wednesday Campanella at like 4 am so I just could not believe she suddenly walked out on stage for this random artist's show I #had (literally) stumbled into 😭😭😭 #Man that whole experience was just so amazing and it wasn't until a few weeks later that I realized the 'something something Shun' guy who #Performed with soil and pimp was the same person as the guy from yahyel 😭😭😭😭) #(and that's my yahyel story 😅 but I'll never forget how blown away I was the first time I heard them. THEY ARE INCREDIBLE.)

[snickerdoodlles]

i haven’t rly been online much lately in a combination of being rly sick, rly busy, and generally just rly tired, but i have been making drafts of random thoughts so i’d remember to return to them when i did have the energy to properly write them out

except i haven’t been paying attention to the actual number of drafts i’ve been building up, and i just now realized i have 461 of them

help

#its such a random collection of posts too aaaaaaaa #a few of these are weird rambly metas #some of these are long tag rambles #a few of them are tag rambles that went too long and now i have to decide between comment or tag edit #so many fic snippets #so many fic sketches #im so upset i got sick this month ive had so little time and energy to write #i had plans for so many AUs !!!! #specifically mer pran au bc mermay and so many ppl are curious how pran and pat first met #(bby mer pran!!!!!! is!!!!!! so!!!!!! cute!!!!!!!!!!!!!) #HMC au i wanted to finish for my bday #ch6 which is already 5k+ and thats just the first part of the smut scene lol whoops #want to finish ch6 esp bc then i can focus on the grasshoppers and elephants rewrite ive been itching to do for mONTHS #poor old guard au which is half done but got caught up in the dUMBeST irl drama and now i have to figure out how to restart #a ridiculous number of gifts im so behind on lol #theres no point to this im just like @.@ at my drafts folder rn and i think its broken my brain just a bit #idk what to do lol #trying to finish a 10k monster fic of kim & tankhun shenanigans first i think? like i just have the middle scene to finish #then maybe i can fINALLY get to clearing out my RIDICULOUSLY HUGE DRAFTS PILE #lol i should probably just delete most of these and start fresh but. hmmmmmm #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[sea-jello]

5 and 7 for artist asks ^^

lets goo

5: Who/what inspires you?

oh jeez i think just the fact that when i was younger i wanted to be good at drawing soo badly. then when i gained access to the internet it was all the unlimited amazing digital art which again,, circles back to me wanting to be good at drawing at like 8 years old

and i already did 7 here basically i do t have any ocs now but i USED to back in elementary. i just remembered i also had these triplets or sisters who had a giant treehouse so im gonna see if i can find it

I FOUND IT lord almighty i think this was in 4th grade i wanted a treehouse so bad

and i also found more of my totally ocs but they were actually just genderbent ninjago

i think i only knew how to draw girls back then so that’s just what i did. these were from grade 3 at LEAST

#literally months later sorry 💀💀 i just wanted to finally be done with it it’s been in my drafts all this time #ithink i just didn’t want to go trawling through my old notebooks #i also had the obligatory catgirl as my first ever oc but that one’s lost to time #couldn’t find it anywhere #i’m really airing my shit out huh 💀💀 i might delete these later when the second hand embarrassment catches up to me #they’re so funny tho look where i started and look where i am now #jellos answers

[butchvamp]

trying to write anything since halloween has just been pulling teeth

#really sucks. i had hoped i would have finished the other chapter by now but ive barely written anything #going to go a whole year with no new update lol..... sad #and i want to start the second draft of my novel #but now i somehow think i can write a total new project in like 2 months #well guess we'll find out #i feel like im in a worse place mentally than i've ever been like it's almost fascinating to see how badly #everything has nosedived for me since 2020 #and every year just gets progressively worse and worse lol #how much longer can i take it! lol!

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

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