#who leaves cheese for him
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jordan tweeted about the rats in his walls and i thought for a second he was teasing that he was in rats smp s2 so?? holy moley character leak???
#rats smp#captainsparklez#(not canon just speculation)#gkm arts#lafakiwi draws#mcyt fanart#mcyt#captainsparklez fanart#jordan captainsparklez#i imagine his whole fuckin rat base is made outta foam insulation#illustration#artists on tumblr#art#digital art#hes made an ianite statue out of foam#hes that lunatic who keeps talking about some goddess and its the woman who works in the cafe of the walls hes in#who leaves cheese for him#he'll eat it sometimes but its not as good as the abestoes#rats smp 2
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fuck it aromantic cheese icons
#why? but why not?#u can’t give me a character who goes on a speech abt how he’s scared his friends r gonna leave him behind and expect me not to aro-ify him.#sorry.#reservation dogs#cheese reservation dogs#aromantic#these r low effort idcccc#im too tired to care rn i have been awake for 25 hours 🤕#mossy posts
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home from work
#if I speak…#one of the girls walked out yesterday#the best worker we have is on the verge of blowing up on this bitch’s leaders bc since he can do everything quick and efficiently already#they’re putting 3 to 4 ppl’s workloads on him to see how far they can extend his worth and then they’re over his shoulder the whole time#micromanaging him so today he almost lost it and was literally walking around mumbling about his disrespectful they all are (facts)#and how if they don’t think he’s doing it right then they can do it and I know for a fact one of the ladies heard him#bc he wasn’t even trying to hide it at this point and like this dude is cool he has a lot of patience and helps out any way he can#so if HE’S on the brink of snapping then the rest of us don’t stand a chance LMFAO#anyways today was a fucking mess those leaders know nothing about our store yet so they have us making less than what we need until we need#it so we get behind constantly and they made prep a disaster bc again they think they can just prep a bunch of stuff in the morning#and it’ll last the whole day and yes that works in theory but the reality of the situation is every day is different and today#we sold double what we did yesterday so they had to move me to prep to fix their mistakes bc we were running out of stuff 4 hours in lmfao#and I’m the only one left who knows how to do everything on prep bc the other girls had never done it before#we’re supposed to prep 20 mac n cheese trays in the morning for the whole day#we open lunch at 10:30 tell me why I go into the cooler at 12 put more in the oven and there’s only 5 left#it’s been less than 2 HOURS and you’re already running out of macs which means those idiots prepped barely anything just to try and save mo#*money to cut down waste but that gag if you’re losing money bc now you’re short on everything and customers are leaving bc they’re having#to wait a long time for their food#and macs take 40 minutes to cool LMFAO#I get over there they’re out of parfaits they’re out of fruit cups they’re out of kale salads the front is coming in and having to take#stuff as I make it bc they keep getting orders and it’s all just a fucking mess#I have to make a custom wrap and what happens?? those morons didn’t pull the flatbreads out of the freezer like they’re supposed to every#night so now we have no flatbread and I had to run back there and put them in the warming drawer to defrost and we lost an order bc I had#nothing to make the wraps with <3#I go back there to get more cold chicken SPOILER ALERT they didn’t have anyone make any this morning so now there’s no chicken for the wrap#and salad and it has to be grilled and then chilled for 2 FUCKING HOURS before it can be used#they’re a fucking disaster like 😭#was the store perfect before?? ofc not but it ran quickly and efficiently as it should and now it’s literally just a mess#this bitch hasn’t even owned it for a full week yet and has already fucked it all up#womp womp!!!!!!
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“Go away Dad,” Grim seemed to say. “Why do I only see you when I don’t want to?”
#twst#twisted wonderland#i feel like now is a good time to bring up my Crowley Deadbeat Dad headcanon#Crowley is a deadbeat who leaves to go get the milk. yes#however he would be the type to come back in like a month or so#and he has a jug of expired milk with him instead of just a regular one#and he’s like#oh I’m sorry children of mine who I remember exist#I accidentally got expired milk instead of the normal kind haha#I’m pretty sure that cheese is made from expired milk#maybe you could try and make some of that?#anyway I’ll go get some non-expired milk now#since I’m so gracious#and then the cycle repeats#twst grim#twst crowley
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if each 5sos album was some sort of food, be it a singular item like a vegetable or a loaf of bread, or a wholeass dish, or anything in between, what do you think it would it be?
#tw food mention#tell me? pls? do all of them or just one! you can explain your choice or not. it can have a reason or just be based on vibes#this is not me opening a conversation to rag on one or more albums to be clear#s/t is mac n cheese except it contains at least two ingredients that can't be explained and the bottom of the pan is also burned#but it's tasty and satisfying and reminds you of simpler times so you love and appreciate it for what it is#sgfg is some sort of five course meal made out of the finest ingredients#and you consume it and everything's great#but then you run into the chef in the bathroom and he's crying his eyes out cos he's been on the clock for 15 hours---#---and he's tired and sore and kinda just wishes someone would validate his efforts and maybe find him a chair to sit on#youngblood is lasagna. except instead of ground beef there's nothing but veg and instead of bechamel there's cottage cheese and---#--instead of regular store bought cheese there's exclusive local cheese produced with love from milk from a cow named betsy#and it's fucking delicious but it's not at all what you expected so it leaves you feeling a little dumbstruck and confused#but then you keep eating and before you know it you're addicted and have to have this exact meal on a regular basis#CALM is...olives#and to be clear i fucking love olives#but i know not everyone does. cos it's definitely something of an acquired taste. which is kinda my point#it's not everyone's cup of tea and those who dislike it LOVE to let you know at every turn#but those who love it. be it cos they learned to love it or cos it was love at first sight. they REALLY love it#5sos5 is like...the most amazing fucking salad#a dish that could've easily become boring or unsatisfying or just generally lacking#EXCEPT the chef knew what he was doing. he knew how to perfectly bring out every single subtle flavour of his chosen ingredients#cos he put his heart and soul into that salad that at first glance could easily come off as just another salad
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// shout out to elling trias for being the best minor npc in warcraft he is so fucking funny to me. inconspicious cheese vendor who's actually an si:7 agent and a master of disguise. he's so fucking funny to me.
#leave no trace ; ooc#( y'all see the various disguises he puts on to spy on the dracthyr?? )#( HE'S CALLED THE CHEESEMONGER IN HEARTHSTONE AND HE HAS NOTHING BUT CHEESE PUNS )#( u can fish up his dalaran copper coin where he's like being a rogue is hard work i wish i could pursue my true passion: cheese )#( he's the cheese guy. he's the cheese guy!! he's also part of an extensive web of agents and informants but he's the cheese guy! )#( he's so fucking funny to me i'm literally obsessed with him )#( cheesemonger....... )#( trivia reads there's an undead who happens to be a rogue vendor with the same surname and a cheese vendor in dalaran who's also a trias )#( we out here cheesing it up and roguing it up. elling trias my beloved )#( can you believe the fucking cheese vendor has more to his wiki than the greatest rogue who ever lived lord ravenholdt LOL )
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Man Americans weird me out so much
#this guy got a fig jam and Brie sandwich then is getting upset there’s no mustard sauces or anything to have with it im so confused#that sounds disgusting#who dips a sandwich in sauce is that normal American behaviour??#also if u have jam and melted cheese why do u even need sauce#also fig and mustard sound disgusting together#also he just returned his plate and asked for a takeaway box to eat out of idk why cos the plate was clean#THATS just wasteful#and asked me for sugar when I walked by when it was right next to him#and asked for forks for a croissant?????? who eats a croissant w forks????#Idk I’m just confused#cos he keeps coming up to me w weird and unnecessary requests#which then makes me feel bad like I’m not good at my job#Also cos he asked for tap water and I pointed to the water dispenser and said it’s just there#and he never got himself water but sat right next to it#so then I’m walking by feeling guilty like I forgot to give him water but it’s clearly self serve and it’s right next to him so I’m like#hmmmm#Americans just always tend to behave in a way where I’m like???? or have odd requests#tho this super working class English guy came in yday and asked if we did coffee. like ur in a coffee shop idk how to answer that#and had a few other questions that made me question is this guy an alien does he never leave the house idk
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Ok but Jiro splurging and getting Ichi a little pocket guide to local bugs ;o; He’d carry it everywhere as a kid and it’d get so bent and dirty but he learns so much. Bringing home bugs to his dad in his lil wire bug trap and rattling off bug facts while some of the girls are screaming for him to take it outside (cute lil Ichi being the one who handles bugs for some of the girls at Shangri-La who are afraid of them)
I’m sorry I dunno why I’m so obsessed with little bug guy Ichiban. Imagine him being young and watching caterpillars grow in class okay ;o; angel!!
oh so we're all on board with Bug Lover Ichi then maybe democracy does exist
#snap chats#i leave for a walk and casually comment 'ichi should be a bug wizz' and#pun intended#here come a swarm of asks 😩#i do very much like the idea that jiro gets ichi a bug book for his birthday one year.......... thats so cute i love that...#he bringing that shit everywhere with him i prommy it always gonna be tucked away in his lettermen 😭#and ichi being the Local Bug Remover....... bless his heart... everyone mad at the roaches but hes just :( ? Theyre Friends :)#jewel beetles are MAD pretty i LOVE EM im sure ichi'd love em too..#and I Too consider nancy a sea bug of sorts... its only fitting its only right..#how the fuck a cicada molt in your car tho ☠️☠️ LMAO good luck for things to come i guess#also in review i think i found a cicada /carcass/ instead of a shell- VEEEERY different#considering cicadas often represent rebirth and change and growth... that doesnt tell me good things about my future..#but thats just superstition right :) r :) right <:)#speaking of superstition the moo is Full And Yellow tonight like an expensive wheel of cheese#and tbh as pretty as they are full moons worry me: people can get weird during that time and my mom is no exception#coupled with the fact then when i got home my bro told me my sis- who was supposed to be home today- was sick#veryyyy bad omens ahead for me.....#in any case... i watched the deer king and WMA2 today :)#unrelared to Everything I Just Said LMAO BUT HEY MIGHT AS WELL REPORT IT#LOVED EM but i dont have the tags to talk about them both extensively... just know yall should give em a watch...#or at least Deer King.. that one's much easier to find with subs.... (but WMA2 is def worth the trouble)#ok bye i have work to do i got Another client during my walk ☠️☠️
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the frankly astronomical lack of boundaries that the inquisitor has for anyone in the world if you translate game player actions 1:1 is so funny, because obviously if something is interactable im going to interact with it which means the inquisitor is just barging into people's houses and scrounging around for private documents and easily stealable gold
#fel's da#the rest of ella's party just staring at him like 'what the fuck are you doing'#except varric who's used to this from hawke im sure#this man is like a political and religious figure#you're just standing in your kitchen making mac n cheese#and the pope walks in and steals your wallet and a bottle of wine and then leaves without a word
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...
Nostalgic rant in the tags
#i miss my mom i miss my mom i miss my mom i miss my mom i miss my mom i miss my mom i miss my mom#im so homesick#but not for my parental house now#but the house when i was 9#with my little brother playing the wii while our dogs ran through the house and the big wolfhound chased us up ths stairs as we laughed#my dad coming back from the construction site to take a nap in the living room while my mom made me and my brother a snack#bread with cheese melted in the microwave#i miss being a child. i miss being me. i miss knowing who i am#i miss my little brother and talking to him at night when were both supposed to be asleep#sitting in the doorframes of our respective rooms so we're 'not breaking the dont leave ur room rule' as we chat#i miss sitting outside with my dad watching thunderstorms. i miss eating a midnight snack with him when i couldnt sleep.#i miss my mom. all of her.#it wasnt fair#its never been fair.#i wasnt supposed to fend for myself at barely 10. my dad was never meant to lose his love#it's not fair.#i dont want to be so estranged from my family. from my life.#i'm homesick for a tike things were easier. where my biggest worry was eating my goddamn vegetables.
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The sky is pink in my neck of the woods guys ☹️🫶🏻
—
“Sukuna! Kuna- baby, look-“
“Wake me up, and I’ll have to kill you.”
Sukuna doesn’t know what time it is, and he doesn’t care. All he knows is it’s far too early for your nonsense, nonsense you’re always willing to subject him to.
All that he’s willing to listen to.
“But- but Sukuna,” you whine. He feels you leave the bed, and he makes a blind reach to try and keep you to the warmth of the covers to no avail. He grumbles in annoyance and moves to hike the blankets up and over his head, blocking out your noise and the sunlight coming in.
“It’s pink outside…”
He grumbles and pulls the blankets from his head, “huh?”
“It’s pink!” You giggle, genuine joy in your voice. “The sky, it’s making everything look pink! The trees, the houses, the cars-“
“Yeah, got it, shits pink,” he grumbles, sitting up and stretching deeply. “Take a pic and come back to bed.”
“Don’t you want to come look at it with me?” You pout.
He could kill you. He could! Honestly, with how obnoxious you are, he wants to.
But he knows, deep down, he won’t. Because you ask him to come look at the pink sky at who knows what time in the morning. Because you stole a cookie from his plate last night, and you popped a blackhead on his nose when he was talking to Yuuji on the phone yesterday. Because you cling to him like a koala and smother his bony cheeks in kisses, and you sit on his lap to block his view from the tv, and you take the cheese off of his pizza to eat it.
Because you’re you. And you’re not going to change, and he loves you for it.
With a grunt, he yawns and turns his head to look at you, perched in front of the window. Your body is carved in the pink light, your face turned to him expectantly. You look ethereal, a pure soul sent to him specifically, with your bottom lip jutted out and your eyes curved, flashing him your best set of puppy eyes.
He swings his legs over the bed and stalks over to you, smacking his lips and wrapping an arm around you once he approaches you. You nuzzle into his chest and press a kiss to his pec before turning your gaze back outside, fixating on the pink.
“It’s literally 5 am,” he says, breaking up the peace.
“It’s so pretty,” you mewl, and Sukuna looks down to admire you.
“Sure is, babe,” he hums, gently rubbing his thumb over your shoulder.
“Sure is.”
#soft sukuna for the soul 🫶🏻#sukuna#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader fluff#sukuna x reader#sukuna x gn!reader#sukuna imagine#sukuna jjk#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen fluff#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader fluff#sukuna ryomen x gn!reader#sukuna ryomen imagine#sukuna ryomen jjk#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk imagine#jjk x reader#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x gn!reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x yn#jjk x you
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imagine a two or three years before the marriage with arranged!gojo, when you’re in your late teens and the gojo family invited some of the noble families to their summer estate near the ocean to relax there for a while.
obviously you and your family were invited (despite how much it angered your fathers wife that you too were included in the invitation), so you, along with four other prominent families, made your ways up north for the summer.
you were excited to be away for a while, even more excited that you were going to have an actual room and access to more things. you knew the kids there weren’t going to hang around you, so you tried making yourself comfortable in some of the more secluded places of the gojo estate.
it's one reason why gojo didn't really remember you a whole lot when you two were first married. sure, he knew he knew you from your family and all of those gatherings, but you were usually always in the background.
the north was truly beautiful in the summer, especially by the sea, so you couldn’t be too butthurt over their rejection when you had such views to remedy your pain.
most days you’d hide away in a corner of the library or walk around the grounds, steering clear of your sisters and all the other kids your age. you could hear their faint laughter near the lake or the way they stayed up all night around a fire near the gardens.
one of the nights when you were out on the beach, watching the waves as you read a book, you heard a hoard of voices getting closer and closer to you.
your head whipped around in confusion, heart sinking when you realized the other kids were coming here too. you could’ve sworn they said they were going to be out at town till midnight.
you quickly packed up all your things, ditching your little blanket as you scurried up the hill, trying to stay hidden in the line of trees as you watched them come nearer.
you could see your sisters laughing as some of the other girls and guys stumbled out on the sand, their heads thrown back in laughter as they all started to strip out of their usual garments and into the swim ones they had underneath.
you were about to leave when you heard somebody ask loudly about your blanket, wondering if it was any of theirs.
while still staying hidden you saw how the tallest one of the group, gojo, picked it up, surveying it and then the foot tracks in the sand that led away from it.
his eyes looks up the hill, into the trees, and to your horror, watched as he decided to follow it.
he told the rest of his group to stay there and start swimming without him, he’d just been looking for a little bit and coming back.
you had heard of his excellent tracking skills, how he’d lead the north to a steady victory when up against some other neighboring lands, which unfortunately meant he was freakishly good at tracking a girl who was awful at hiding.
you stopped breathing, crouching behind a bush as you watched him enter the forest.
he looked around, blue eyes on the ground as they looked for the footsteps, taking note of the deserted basket of cheeses and the book you had taken with yourself.
before you knew it he was near your bush, looking through they leaves when he caught your frantic eyes.
gojo stands up, confusion laced on his face as he towers over your still kneeling body.
“what...what are you doing here?” he asks bluntly, his voice cold.
you grimace, standing up as well as you scratch the back of your neck.
“well, i was reading over there,” you point out behind his back to the shore, where all the other kids had swarmed into the water, “i thought you all had left to go to the town.”
gojo’s eyes rake over you. the two of you had barely spoke a word to each other since your arrival, and this was the first time he’s really taken a good look at you.
his focused on the downward turn of your eyes, his you evaded his look. he skimmed over the slope of your nose, the slight press of your lips. there was a sort of sad look about you that he's always noticed when staring at you.
his arms cross over his chest, white brows furrowed. you felt heat rise to your cheeks, feeling meek under his heavy stare.
“we came here instead,” gojo simply says, his tone clipped.
you nod, your lips pulling into an awkward smile as you bend down to pick up your book, flicking off some of the dirt on its cover with your hands.
“i’ll head back” you murmur, picking up your basket, noticing your blanket that was still in his hands.
you decide not to care, you’ll just find another one.
“alone?” he asks incredulously, voice slightly raised as you give him a skeptical look.
this is the first time the two of you had really acknowledged each other, aside from the polite head nods and the two-word sentences. why was he questioning you so much?
"that was the plan," you tell him, your eyes squinting a little bit in confusion.
gojo knows the grounds like the back of his hand. he and his family have been coming here ever since he was a young boy. the estate is close to the shore, yes, but it's getting dark and you've only been here once. he almost wants to applaud your confidence.
"i'll go tell one of your sisters so they can accompany you back. they know the way better." he finally says, looking like he is about to turn to leave, but you scramble, tugging him back by the fabric of his loose tunic.
he looks at you in shock.
"no!" you almost hiss, a pleading look on your face, "i know the way back. don't tell them," you put your hands up as if you were surrendering, packing up all your things in a hurry as you shoot him a hasty smile, "just pretend i was never here."
gojo's apprehension isn't warded off. if anything, he's even more confused by your frenzied state.
you're finding the trail to the estate, leaving him as you keep poking around, not noticing the way he was still following you.
"your sisters wouldn't mind," he tells you, and you look over your shoulder with a raised brow.
"maybe if it was you who was asking to be led back," you say with a scoff, shoving some stray twigs and leaves from nearby trees out the way, "but they'd rather haul a sheep carcass than accompany me."
gojo blinks slowly.
when he doesn't say anything, you shoot him another confused look. what was he not getting?
"you do realize who i am...right?"
gojo rolls his eyes, pursing his lips together.
"yes...but," he kicks some pebbles away, "they don't care about...that, right?" he's hesitant to acknowledge the truth. the fact that you're only related to them by father. the reason why they don't even speak about your mother is because she's probably in a brothel somewhere far away.
you give it a second to sink in before you laugh, your head tilting back as your arms fall helplessly to the sides. gods he was daft.
"that's all my family cares about," you tell him, your voice dripping with something else, a buried emotion that you've been hauling around for years, "i think they'd rather me be eaten by a bear on my way back," you admit with a smile, but he doesn't reciprocate it. he doesn't really seem to be one for jokes.
gojo's arms cross over his chest, thinking. this entire time he just thought you liked being by yourself. were you alone because you had to be? is that why you've been avoiding the group?
before he can say something the shouts from the other kids reel you back to looking at the shore. they're calling for him to come back, asking what's taking him so long.
he looks back at you, conflicted.
"the water's nice," you say, your voice a little quieter as you give him a small smile, pushing him to leave.
he rakes his fingers through his white hair, staring at you longer.
that smile, he thinks, is the most melancholic thing he's ever seen
"there aren't any bears here," he says, as if that would do anything to help.
but your smile turns into something easier, a laugh, a genuine one, falling from your lips. gojo decides he likes that sound. better than all the other laughs he's heard.
"i'll trust you on that," you say, ducking your head down in a final nod as you turn around a final time and disappear behind the shrubbery.
gojo stands there for another minute, thinking.
and then he heads back to the beach, where all the other kids have already gone into the water. he goes to take off his tunic before he realizes he's still holding your blanket, the fabric searing into his skin.
he brings it closer to his face, his nose scrunching at a distinct smell, a small smile forming on his face when he can still remember the lingering smell on you too from when you were speaking to him.
lavender.
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Why can't my roommate go to BED
#i do not want to talk to him (he is a loser who leaves the door unlocked)#but i want to eat a bagel with cream cheese because i think it will help my headache#but he is still out and about! why!#also i need to lock the door because i know he didn't lock it!#isabel.vent
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Almost Kisses
Summary : Bucky's kisses have become a daily part of your life together, but it wasn’t always that way.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her)
Warnings : very slight mention of food and mild cursing
Requested by : @buckys-wintersoldier
Word count : 1.8k
Note : This one was very fun! I was listening to Work Song By Hozier while writing this, so it's safe to say the song served as a bit of inspiration, too. I did say it would be >1k word blurb but I have once again got over the limit.
Requests are open!
Kissing you had become second nature to Bucky. Every morning when he woke up, every night before bed. It was part of his routine, it felt as natural as breathing. He kissed you when he passed you in the kitchen, when you laughed at something ridiculous, when you weren’t paying attention. He kissed you just because he could.
It was hard for him to remember a time before that, but once, kissing you had seemed impossible.
The first time the thought even crossed his mind, you were standing outside his apartment door, trying to get his attention. Sam had called you, worried about him after days of radio silence, days of ignoring texts and phone calls from both him and his therapist.
Sam could get through to Bucky on most days, but on the really hard ones, when the weight of his past pulled him under the covers and refused to let him go, there was only one person who could reach him. You.
Somehow, Bucky had imprinted on you in a way he never had with anyone else. Sam wasn’t stupid— he knew that Bucky was down hard for you. Hell, everyone who ever saw the two of you interact knew that Bucky was in love with you. Everyone except you.
Because love had to keep you blind like that, at least for a while.
"Bucky?" Your voice was soft that day, muffled by the door separating you from him. You knocked again, gentler this time. "I brought you pizza. Just cheese, no toppings—your favorite." You paused, like you were waiting for signs of life, anything, but the silence was deafening. You lowered your voice, a whisper now. "I cut off the burnt bits, the way you like it."
The door creaked open, just a sliver of light pouring in from the apartment. Bucky's figure stood in the shadow, his frame filling the doorway, but his voice was small and frail. "Extra cheese?"
"Of course, Buck." Your lips curved up knowing you’ve essentially made it in. You slipped inside the moment he stepped back.
That night, you didn’t leave his side. You pulled him out of the dark waters he had drowned himself in. He told you about his nightmares, the memories that wouldn’t let him breathe. You listened, laughed when he cracked the odd dark joke, and cried while exchanging stories. Minutes blurred into hours, and eventually, you fell asleep beside him on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder.
That was the night he realized what you did to him. You didn’t just pull him out of his pit of despair— you made him feel alive. Electric.
The next morning, you took a shower, borrowing one of his shirts since yours were dirty. Seeing you in his oversized clothes twisted something inside him, drove him insane with wild thoughts— he almost said something, but bit his tongue to stop the flow of words that would have been unstoppable. When you hugged him goodbye, he held on just a second too long, his arms tightened around you, hesitating to let go and wishing he could stay in the safety of your embrace forever. And for just a heartbeat, he stared at your lips. He almost gave in, almost kissed you right then and there, but he shoved the thought away at the last second. Why would you ever want to kiss someone like him?
The second time he almost kissed you was at the ice rink in Central Park. It was the holiday season, and this year Bucky realised that he didn’t need to spend it alone anymore. He invited you out, convincing himself it wasn’t a date— just two friends hanging out, doing friend things.
You were hesitant, admitting you couldn’t skate and that the ice never seemed to agree with you, but he insisted.
"You can hold onto me," he teased, though he left out telling you how much he wanted you to. Just to feel you close. Just for you to embrace him again.
"Buck!" you squealed when he picked up speed, your hands clutching his jacket tight around your fist in a death grip. "You’re going way too fast!"
He laughed, slowing to a stop in the middle of the rink. The moonlight between trees shrouded the two of you. You stumbled into his chest, your fingers curling into his coat. For a second, you didn’t move. You stayed there, taking in his scent. "What would I do without you?" you murmured into his chest, voice barely above a whisper.
In that moment, he realised that you weren’t just his friend out of pity— You made him feel wanted. Needed.
His hands found your cheeks, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. He could almost taste how your lips would feel— soft, warm, perfect. His breath hitched, his body taking control. But then, just as quickly, he put his logical mind back in the pilot seat. He pulled away. Why would you want to kiss someone who’d been broken as many times as him?
The third time he thought about kissing you, he could’ve sworn you wanted it, too. You were on one of your usual runs and morning coffee— your ritual together. It happened once or twice a week when he wasn’t whisked away to some strange land for a mission.
Bucky always slowed his pace to match yours. He didn’t mind since he could spend those extra moments near you.
After the runs, you’d get coffee together. He talked about everything—his life in the 40s, his family, Steve, his friends from school.
You gave him pieces of his humanity back with every conversation. With you, he felt more than a soldier— you made him feel more organic. Human.
He felt that, for once, he was more interesting than the winter soldier.
He then talked about wanting a small pet, maybe a dog, or a white cat.
"What, am I not companion enough?" you had teased.
His ears burned, and the super soldier found himself stammering. "That’s not what I meant."
You laughed as you brushed coffee foam off his facial hair. The briefest touch and his heart started racing out of control.
He could've sworn you leaned in just slightly, almost instinctively. He wanted to kiss you. He needed to. But again, he pushed it down, convincing himself that the two of you were just friends.
The day after, he found himself lying on the couch, thoughts spiraling. He couldn’t stop thinking about you— your lips, your laugh, your touch. He didn’t know what to make of it. The feelings ate away at his sanity, and they wouldn’t go away. For the first time, he asked himself the question he was too afraid to ask: was this how it felt to be truly, deeply, and desperately in love?
Then came the knock.
He opened the door, and there you were, looking as tired as he felt. Your hair was a mess, your clothes crumpled, and you looked like you haven’t slept since he saw you yesterday, but you were still so goddamn beautiful. You had this infectious wild energy, like you were on the edge of discovering the secret to world peace.
"I’ve been thinking all night," you said, stepping inside the gap he had open. That was how welcome you felt in his space, how comfortable he was with you. "If I’m wrong, this is going to be so embarrassing, but— three times. You almost kissed me three times."
Bucky blinked, caught off-guard.
"That night with the pizza, when I said goodbye," you continued, pacing around the room in deep thought. "The ice rink. And yesterday at the coffee shop." You held up three fingers at his face, your hands trembling slightly. "Three times is too much to be a coincidence. Three times is too much to just accidentally lean in. Please, tell me you’ve thought about it. Tell me you’ve wanted to kiss me because—" You stopped, looking into his beautiful eyes. "Because I’ve thought about it too."
Your voice was shaky. Bucky had never seen you so vulnerable, so uncertain. So hopeful.
"This is so embarrassing," you muttered, your voice now barely a whisper. But before you could say anything else, Bucky closed the distance between you. He grabbed you by the waist and kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate rush. All the hesitations melted away from the tension in his muscles, and it was better than he’d imagined a thousand times. He didn’t know how it was possible, but you tasted even sweeter than he had dreamed. His hands tangled in your hair as you stood on tiptoes, clutching him as if he might slip away.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, you whispered in disbelief, "So I was right."
Bucky smiled, finger running along your skin, in a sensory attempt to remind him the was all real and not just one of his fantasies. "Only took you half a year to notice."
You laughed softly, melting into his touch. "I could say the same for you."
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. "Shush," he whispered between kisses. He was addicted now. He needed his fix. He needed your touch, your warmth, your lips on his. Again, and again, and again.
And that was more than a year ago. Now, Bucky still couldn’t stop kissing you. If anything, it had only gotten worse, not that you were complaining.
He kissed you every chance he got. When you rolled over in bed, still half asleep, he kissed your forehead. When you stretched in the kitchen, reaching for a mug for your afternoon tea, he kissed the back of your neck. When you came home late from work, tired but smiling, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you breathless, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded.
"Buck," you laughed, stopping his train of thought, playfully trying to squirm away as he pulled you onto his lap. "We’re supposed to be watching a movie."
His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear. "But I’d rather kiss you."
You were powerless against him, as you always are. Laughing softly, you said, "You know, you kiss me every day. Aren’t you tired of me yet?"
He pulled back just enough to look at you, reminding himself of how lucky he was that he had you here. That if it wasn’t for you storming into his apartment in a frenzy with a theory, you wouldn’t be here in his arms. "Never." His voice was so soft, making your breath hitch.
You were about to say something smart, but Bucky stopped you with another kiss, his lips gentle and loving, yet there was such a fiery passion beneath. You curled into him, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, the movie long forgotten.
He stared at you, thumb brushing the side of your face, as if memorizing every detail. "I’m never gonna stop kissing you," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was a little rough, his throat dry from the taste of you. "I don’t think I could, even if I tried."
And you believed him.
-end
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x female reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f!reader#Sebastian stan#Sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes one shot
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I think God heard me saying I’d rather have weird and tedious customers than rude customers and was like “let me test that theory”
#why did i have 5 in a row#first there was this family who just all didn’t seem to know what was going on at all or what they wanted#‘can i have this heated up… no wait. no not that one. no. bev do you want this heating up? what? what? no. oh. can i have THIS heated up’#i ask where they’re sitting so we can bring the food out to them. blank stares#as it transpired; my coworker managed to heat them up in the time it took these people to get their shit together and pay#whole time i’m just standing there going through the five stages of grief#THEN i get some fairly normalish people but why did they ask for cups and straws for their canned drinks and then leave without the cups#i’m just standing there looking at some cups#THEN the next guy had forgotten his wallet#and then there was a string of french people and the one man wanted to preorder coffees ‘to drink later’#my exchange with him honestly went on for way too long i feel like because i was trying to clarify in my own brain what he wanted#him: can i order some coffees; pay for them now and drink them later? me: … yes. yes; i think so. which coffees would you like?#him: *french noises* espresso. 2 espresso. me: single or double? him: one large one small. me: so a single and a double? him: yes#me: and you want to pay for these now and come back and get them later? him: yes me: so you’re paying now and later you’ll come back and get#them and we can make them for you and you’ll drink them? him: yes me: okay; great. i’ll just write this on an order ticket for you#i literally wrote down ‘1x single esp; 1x double esp PAID NOW; MAKE LATER (he is french)’#he did come back like 15 minutes later#and then the next people had just the biggest order ever and were asking me about seven million questions about cake#i was like ‘i’ll get you a manager’ they were like ‘no no it’s okay’ then WHY#THEN the dippy family from the beginning did not like the cheese and leek pasty they’d ordered so one of them came back#and bought a sandwich. i just had to be like ‘i’m sorry’ like i don’t know what to say#apparently ‘it smelled too strong and she wouldn’t eat it’ it’s CHEESE and LEEK and you had it warmed up. i could’ve told you that about#melted cheese. and THEN someone asked if we do soup. SOUP? in AUGUST??#when i tell you it was a hot day. my hair felt like it was melting into my head. i……#and my backup was the guy i call ‘the sheriff’ who is well into his 50s and suffice to say i want to fuck that old man#it was one of those shifts where you just have to laugh. and thank god that no one ordered a soy milk anything#personal
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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
collection masterlist: Clingy Baby
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.
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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