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venusacrossthestars · 2 months

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I <3 Australians

pairing- Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

summary: You had an obsession with Australians, your boyfriend and love for the Australian band 5 Seconds of Summer proved as much. So what better way to show your girlfriend you love her than take her to see her other fave Australians?

wc- 2.4k

a/n- HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML OSCAR PIASTRI this is the self-indulgent fic I have been talking about. I am a 5SOS stan and idc if this flops or not because I truly only wrote this for me. also this isn't edited bc I could not be bothered to do so

f1 masterlist

You had a thing for Australians, your boyfriend was proof of that. But even before you met Oscar, you had been a fan of the Australian band- 5 Seconds of Summer. While other girls were in their One Direction phase, you were busy fawning over the 4 Australians. You were one of lucky few that were able to see both when 5SOS opened for One Direction. You were a stan, all of your family and friends knew it. But most importantly Oscar knew it as well.

He was familiar with the band, they were after all from the same country. He became even more familiar with them after the two of you got to together. Anytime he picked you up and graced you with the aux cord, chances were that 5 Seconds of Summer was blasting through the speakers. Oscar didn’t mind, the music was half bad either, not that he would ever say anything negative about it to you.

So when he saw that tickets were on sale for there newest tour and that one of the UK dates just happened to line up with a non-race weekend, he was quick to purchase tickets. The hardest part of this whole ordeal was keeping it quiet from you. Which is exactly why Oscar only lasted 24 hours before spilling the beans.

Today was Oscar and yours designated ‘lazy day’, no responsibilities, no worries, a day filled with absolutely nothing. Oscar had gone into your shared office about 20 minutes ago, what he was doing, you had no clue and frankly you were too busy watching Bones to really care.

You watch as Oscar appears from his office, hands behind his back hiding something from your view, “I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes.”

You quirk an eyebrow at Oscar’s sudden exclamation. “Should I be scared?” You ask, as you sit up on the couch.

“No. Just close your eyes.”

You do as he ask, trusting him fully. You feel him place something in your lap, however, it was too light to for you to fully make out what it was.

“Ok, you can open them.”

As you open your eyes you look down at your lap. You weren’t sure what to expect but it surely wasn’t a folded piece of paper. “A piece of paper?”

Oscar rolls his eyes at your comment, “Look what’s written on it.”

You unfold the paper and it takes a few seconds for to comprehend what is on it. You look at Oscar then back down at the paper, back to Oscar, back to the piece of paper and finally back to Oscar. “You didn’t,” is all you can say.

“I did.”

“Oscar this isn’t funny. I swear to God if you are joking you are sleeping on this couch.” On that little folded piece of paper is written confirmation for 2 VIP pit tickets for the 5 Seconds of Summer Show.

“Surprise!” Oscar shouts, face scrunched up from smiling so hard.

You launch yourself from the couch and into his awaiting arms. You pepper his face with kisses. “Thank you- Thank you-Thank you. You are literally the best boyfriend ever.”

“You don’t need to thank me baby. I know how much you love them.”

Your smile widens into a grin. You reach up to pinch his cheeks, “Don’t worry you’ll always be my favorite Australian.”

“I better be.”

The weeks leading up to the concert were difficult for you. You were torn in between wanting to know the setlist and not. You had done your best to stay in the dark with majority of the songs you did however know one thing they were going to be doing.

“Osc, they throw a giant inflatable dice into the crowd and whatever song it lands on when it’s back up on stage is the surprise song they play!”

Oscar shoots you a confused look. The two of you were on your way to the venue and you couldn’t stop talking off Oscar’s poor ear about the concert. You tired to reel in your excitement and everytime you apologized for being so excited, Oscar, like the good boyfriend he is, would tell you not to worry and that he loved seeing you so excited.

“And,” you begin again, “one of my favorite songs is on the dice!”

“Which one?”

“English Love Affair!”

Oscar nods, “Isn’t that the one about Harry Styles’ sister?”

“Yes! I can’t believe you remembered.”

“See I know a thing or two.”

“So proud of you baby,” you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek.

You managed to convince Oscar to dress the part of 2014 grunge 5SOS, not that it was a challenge considering majority of pants this man owned were skinny jeans. You had your own get-up, black skinny jeans (that you had to dig out for your side of the closet), black converse, a white baby tee with a graphic that read ‘I <3 Australians’ and a red flannel tied around your waist. Adorning your wrist were the multiple friendship bracelets you had made.

You could only be described as Wattpad Y/N. When Oscar had seen your shirt he had raised a questioning brow and had asked “I hope that shirt only means me.”

After going through security you and Oscar were officially in the venue. Oscar was in search of something to eat and you were on the hunt for the merch stand.

“What do you want to eat?” Oscar asks you as you stand in concession line.

“Hmmm,” you take a peek at the menu, “I’ll have a pretzel.”

Oscar, ever the gentleman, pay for both of your snacks and drinks. You barely have your food in hand before you are dragging Oscar to the merch stand.

The line was long enough that the two of you could eat and silently debate with yourself what you wanted to get.

Oscar leans his head on your shoulder, “You have to get the papaya hoodie.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re so pretentious, it’s literally orange.”

“Still you look good in orange.”

“I better considering I wear it nearly every weekend.”

While in line you chat with a few other fans, exchanging bracelets, predictions and hopes of what the dice song will be. You are interrupted by the feeling of eyes on you and Oscar, you glance over your shoulder to see a group of girls huddled in a circle. One of them is pointing to Oscar and yourself.

You eventually get your merch, Oscar insisting on getting the ‘papaya’ hoodie for you. As the two of you were walking to the wristband station, you one of the girls from the group from earlier approaching.

“Excuse me,” one of them asks timidly, “you’re Oscar Piastri, right?”

Oscar nods his head, “That’s me.”

“Okay, that’s what my friend thought,” she points over to where her other friends are standing, all now much more interested in their shoes, “I’m really sorry to interrupt your date but I wanted to ask if it’s okay if we could take a picture with you.”

Oscar looks at you and you nod your head. He knows he doesn’t need permission, but today was supposed to be a day for the two you. “Sure, we can take some pictures.”

After your run in with Oscar’s fans the rest of night moves in a blur and before you know it the lights dim and the crowd starts to grow crazier, yourself included.

You grab Oscars arm, “It’s starting oh my god, oh my god.”

Oscar rubs your hair, “Are you excited?”

“Is the sky blue?”

The overtune starts and you can see Ashton, Micheal, Luke, and Calum take their places on stage. The familiar instrumental beginning of ‘Bad Omens’ fills your ears and you can hardly contain your scream.

Oscar watches in adoration as you sing along, knowing every word. He can’t help but join in. You might’ve not known the setlist, but Oscar did. He added it to his Spotify the night he bough tickets and listened to it when he could. He wanted to make sure that he could sing along with you.

The first 3 songs pass in a blur- Bad Omens, 2011, Caramel- and not knowing the setlist proved to be the right choice on your part because when Blender starts you nearly make Oscar deaf with your scream.

“I’d die for you, I’d die for you, I’d die for you,” you sing looking Oscar directly in the eye. He only shakes his head at you antics. You bop and dance around to the chorus, grabbing Oscar to join in on your chaos and by the second verse he is fully dancing along with you.

Everyone is bumping into each other having a blast, personal space be damned. You were to high on life to care about the repercussion that you would be facing tomorrow-bruised feet and a sore throat.

More songs play and the boys interact with fans, your screaming and hollering along with them. Oscar’s face lights up at the beginning of ‘She’s Kinda Hot’ and he turns to you with a grin on his face, “I know this one!”

“My girlfriends bitchin’ cause I always sleep in. She’s always screaming when she’s callin’ her friend. She’s kinda hot though!” Oscar sings along, wiggling his eyebrows at you when he sings the last line.

Rolling your eyes you give him a light shove away from you. You take a moment to admire Oscar, thankfully that you have a loving boyfriend that would take you to see your other favorite Australians.

The mood takes a 180 when the chords of ‘Amnesia’ fill the venue. You can’t help the tears that line your eyes and the shakiness of your voice when you sing along. Oscar looks at you, concern etched on his face, you wave him off. It was just a sad song, that’s all.

The lights dim and on the big screen you see Ashton, Luke, Micheal and Calum in there suit get up. You know what time it was- Dice time. They explain the rules, if the dice isn’t back on stage within a minute then they’ll be picking the song instead.

Luke hurls the dice into the crowd and the timer begins. Hands are flying up as the dice moves across the pit, you and Oscar watch and before you know it the dice is coming towards the two of you. You stand on your tippy toes to help Oscar, and the other around you, push it back towards the stage.

“That was strangely horrifying,” Oscar tells you.

“Not something I would want to see coming towards me again.”

The dice lands on stage and you have both your fingers crossed, praying that it’s English Love Affair. You look at the screen to see the graphic stop on English Love Affair, and the noise that escapes you is hardly human. All Oscar can do it laugh at your reaction.

Just like with the rest of the songs, you sing along, there is however a little more passion when you sing along to this one. “The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain. No, I can't forget my English love affair.”

Oscar wraps his arms around your middle and rest his head on your shoulder, he still couldn’t believe that this song was about Harry Styles’ sister. Oscar may not admit it but every time you told him about any celebrity tea, he always listened. And granted this was old news, but it was new to him the first time he heard this song.

You were panting at the end of the song. “Having fun babe?” You ask Oscar, hoping that your little performance didn’t scare him off.

“I am. I thought you had some performances in the car, but those are nothing compared to what I just watched.”

Before you know it, ‘She Looks So Perfect’ is playing, signaling that the end of the concert is near. You know that the post concert depression would be hitting extra hard the next morning. As the final chord plays and the boys bow off stage you turn to Oscar, asking him if he is ready to go.

“There are two more songs left, for the encore.” He tells you, still planted in his spot.

You shoot him a look, “How do you know that?”

You watch as Oscar’s cheeks grow red, “I might’ve learned the setlist so I could sing along with you. And trust me, you don’t want to miss these ones.”

You knew that they would probably come back out to play ‘Youngblood’ it was their most popular song, however you weren’t sure why Oscar was so insistent that you wanted to hear the other one.

So when they came back on stage and the familiar ‘Oh-whoa’s’ graced your ears you nearly burst into tear. You weren’t expecting to hear ‘Outer Space’ live, ever. You had made peace with this fact so you really couldn’t help it when tears started streaming down your face.

Oscar knew of your history with the Sounds Good Feels Good album, that was an album that you related to so closely, he also knew how much Outer Space/Carry on meant to you.

Oscars hand, now wrapped around your shoulders, brought you closer into his chest as you sang along, softer than you had been singing the entire night, “ I will wait for you, to love me again… I guess I was running, from something. I was running back to you.”

Oscar leans his head in closer and presses a soft kiss into your cheek. Oscar reaches into his back pocket and hands you his phone, flashlight already on, so you could join in with everyone else.

“The darkest night never felt so bright with you by my side,” Oscar sings along. And while you couldn’t see him, you knew that he was looking at you with nothing but love his eyes.

The two of you sway in each others embrace, singing along to the ending-

Nothing like the rain, nothing like the rain

When you're in outer space, when you're in outer space

Nothing like the rain, nothing like the rain

When you're in outer space , when you're in outer space

Love me like you did, love me like you did

I'll give you anything, I'll give you anything

Love me like you did, love me like you did

I'll give you anything, I'll give you anything

You turn in Oscars arms, you bring your hands up to cup his face and pull him in for a sweet kiss. It wasn’t the most romantic kiss the two of you have shares, you were both sweaty, tired, you definitely had tears running down your face, and there was probably some snot in the mix. It might’ve not been the most romantic, but it was something so personal and that’s all that you needed.

a/n: also as I said this was extremely self-indulgent and ik you can def tell. but in all seriousness 5SOS is my favorite band and their album- Sounds Good Feels Good is the album to listen to if you need to get some feels out. I cry every time I listen to Outer Space/Carry on.

I was lucky enough to see them last year at the '5 Seconds of Summer Show' and hearing Outer Space live was an out of body experience. If you ever need some song recommendations for a certain mood, they have a song for nearly everything.

taglist- crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you

@arieslost @customsbyjcg-blog @gr1mes-cc @styl1shl1v @landoscardotcom @poppyflower-22 @blancastans @katiezdiarysblog @mrsstylez @jamieeboulos @tpwkstiles @peanutaj @hiireadstuff @hwalllllllelujah @purple9950 @chaoticpenguindetective @crazymofo-96 @harriesnuggets @inlovewithsierrasix @luckyladycreator2 @luanasrta @inejghafawifesblog @ineedmoremilkk @swiftpiastri@virgo-wonder @faith-f1 @lily1sposts @animetiddies-21 @melissaw1202 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @livelovesports @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @slaygirlbossworld @pastryboyyy @pookiesnukoms @minkyungseokie @f1enthusiastsstuff @mirrorballpulisic @notturlover @notso-sweetcaroline @verspia @mk-wrote @whentheautumnleavesfall @trywhisperingtotheocean @sadbut-true0 @akiraquote @hockeylover4ever @imaginedworldsstuff @sassyangel16 @motkanykodas @foulsongfest @bingewatche @lonely92world @flonaschicken @cvnts3rver @cayls33 @grungy-blue-hipster @kikinuke2 @slupin333

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #op81 #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fluff #op81 fic #mclaren

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toasteaa · 2 months

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Suddenly struck with the thought of my faves twirling my hair around their fingers and I'm so deeply unwell about it!!!

Diluc getting distracted by a single free curl and trying to tuck it away, only to find himself even more distracted when the ends curl around the tip of his finger. How ardently he resists the urge to untuck it and give it a little tug, just to see it bounce back into a spiral when he lets it go again.

Kaeya giving a curl that somehow escaped its siblings wrapped up in a bun, a teasing pull and snickering when you swat at his hand lightly. Only to come back when you're focused on your work to continuously wind and unwind the hair around his fingers fondly.

Zhongli marveling at the way the sun catches each looping curl; lining them in what he believes is the finest gold that he's ever seen. Tenacious as stone when holding their shape, yet softer than down spun from clouds in his hands; he relishes in the way each curl he toys with loses it shape for only a moment before bouncing back the same as ever.

Xiao's familiar and signature wary gaze turning into one of shock and curiosity when he gives a ringlet a cautious tug, and it give a soft spring back into its original shape. He's too unsure of himself to do much more, but often finds himself passively toying with a curl or two whenever you're near.

Cyno running oiled fingers throughout your curls, helping you apply a protectant that will keep most of the heat and humidity of the forests at bay. Separating each curl so carefully, like you've taught him before; giving a satisfactory huff when his, "you should really call these 'cutie-cles'" joke makes you sigh, but the quivering of your shoulders and the light sway of your curls tells him that you're holding back your laugh.

Kaveh struck with a sudden stroke of genius and dashing to his drafts after spending the past thirty minutes mindlessly curling your ringlets on his fingers. A month later, you find pillars in his latest work with that same, familiar pattern as the ringlets he always toys with.

Neuvillette enamored with the image of you allowing a curl to coil about your fingers while you think. His hands itch to reach out and curl it himself, but he shows restraint in this public space. Perhaps in the privacy of his own quarters, you'll let him feel those ringlets curling around his fingers again.

Wriothesley, so familiar with the rigidity and gruffness of Meropide, finding a moment of solace when he gets the chance to bury his face in your curls. Always holding you as close as possible when you lay against his chest, just so he can see each coil spring back into place after he's stretched it out. Like a little calming ritual just for him.

Just! Just!!!!!! Play with my hair pleaseeee 🥺💕🙏🏾

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theghooligan · 1 year

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if rindou isn’t your favorite haitani then that sounds like a you problem

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elmhat · 6 months

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DSMP TUMBLR SIMULATOR

🟩 escapedwarcriminal Follow

On vacation! Check out the fancy hotel :)

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

gufys please mass report this he's trxying to fucking dox me and also kill me pls guys

7 notes

❌ god Follow

I just finished writing my latest book! To thank everyone who stuck with me through this process, I'm giving away one copy to a random follower! All you have to do is reblog 😊

#bookblr #writeblr

2,963,086,652,755 notes

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

Anyone know where the boomerville residents went?

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

No one replied so I guess I own their house now

3 notes

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

#I'm actually so sick of these mfs #no joke if I have to spend another day around these people I might kms #one more comment about how "evil" he is and I'm gonna snap #I can't believe I used to be friends with them? #they're so bloodthirsty for no reason #sorry just needed to vent #can't say any more than this or I'll blow my cover #neg

2 notes

🧁 the-girl-who-burned-your-tree Follow

New strawberry cake recipe! (Safe for pigs)

Try out this delicious dessert that all the family can enjoy!

Keep reading

#baking #recipes #I just wanted to make something that my friend can eat too #he has some rather unique dietary requirements

130 notes

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

"average person destroys 1 government a year" factoid actually just statistical error. average person destroys 0 governments per year. technoblade is an outlier and should not have been counted

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

this is so fuckign disrespectful to doomsday survivors take this down you egotesticle fkng prick

45,687 notes

🟩 escapedwarcriminal Follow

@warden-of-the-vault How's idiotville idiot

🟩 escapedwarcriminal Follow

Wait you can't reply cause you're in IDIOTVILLE

5 notes

🪶 philzaminecraft Follow

My good friend has entrusted me with looking after his lovely dogs, haha! 😂 Do any of you fine young people have advice for me as to how to take care of this many hungry hounds? 🤔 I look forward to hearing from you.

From Philza Minecraft.

P.S. Please also instruct me as to how to increase the number of messages I receive in response to my questions. This internet website is a tad confusing. I had enough bother attaching the photograph. 😂

89 notes

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

woke up to the dash full of drama again. sigh

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

fucking Die

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

oh so you're the one sending all the anon hate

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

i don't send anon hate i'll hate to your fucking face bitch

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

please go out with me

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🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

But fr guys, as much as we're memeing around in the tags dream is actually out there and he's dangerous. If you see him call me or sam immediately. DON'T fight him. You'll /gen die.

6,210 notes

🐈 antthecatmaid Follow

won't be around for a while, going on vacation!

🐈 antthecatmaid Follow

fuck I'm back fuck fuck fuck

27 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

i'm too sad to commit terrorism like what's the fucking point anymore

6 notes

🧨 zombiepresident1 Follow

World's First NFT Burgers

(Ignore the poor photo quality, my good camera got confiscated by authorities)

"An explosion of the senses, and I don't just mean that time the place exploded!" ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

"So much better than Quackity's horrible grimy SHIT FUCKING RESTAURANT" ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

#reviews are all from verified sources #don't look into it #someone blaze this I have no money

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✨ quirky-cake-duper-teleporter Follow

Genuinely fuck dream.

✨ quirky-cake-duper-teleporter Follow

Ignore this I wasn't in my right mind

16 notes

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

The Teletubby and the Pig

Fandom: Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Technoblade, Dream (me and my friend) Additional Tags: Pandora's Vault Prison, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort

Summary: idk man I'm bad at summaries, just something I wrote with my friend to pass the time (he was too embarrassed to post it)

284k words so far

-> Read here!

#I actually wrote this a while ago but I wasn't allowed to post it for legal reasons #don't worry though I'm planning to murder the legal reasons soon #writeblr #original fiction

35 notes

💍 im-from-the-future Follow

WARNING - PLEASE READ

My murderer showed up at my house today. Police refused to arrest him. I feel sick to my stomach, I don't know where he is or what he's doing, if he comes back I have no way to protect myself. Please stay vigilant and don't trust anyone you don't know.

🥕 catsncarrots Follow

i'm so sorry to hear that karl :( hey what's the new pfp?

💍 im-from-the-future Follow

No idea

43 notes

🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow

we all accepted the prison way too quickly. there's like no safety measures? are we forgetting someone DIED THERE? and i've literally seen the main cell myself and it's a mess. pretty sure there was some real blood on the walls too. idk just doesn't feel right

🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

I'm tired of people reblogging posts like this without checking their sources. There are some obvious red flags here. For starters, op claims they've witnessed the main cell personally, but if you actually check the prison's rules, visits have been banned for several months now [x]. The prison is armed with state of the art security measures, including lava, barriers, and numerous manual searches, to name just a few [x]. Speaking as an authority on the prison myself [x], I can safely confirm that these security measures, as well as the prisoner, are in perfect condition. Don't be so quick to buy into conspiracy theories.

🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow

I LITERALLY WORK THERE????

🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

Not anymore you don't.

972 notes

#long post #I wasted so much time on this and every second was worth it #dreblr #dream smp #dsmp #dashboard simulator #lore thoughts #dsmp dashboard simulators

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mellowwillowy · 10 months

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Zapolyarny Palace's Cat

Fem reader, either a literal cat or a hybrid(?) is up to you. All Harbingers + Archon, Pulcinella, and his grandpa joke (aww), Scaramouche appears later as a surprise. Yan tendencies near the ending.

"Mew.."

You mewl while Childe scratches your head, Pantalone tends your nails, Columbina combs your furs, Sandrone fixes the bowtie on your tail while Capitano feeds you a cat snack. Both Pierro and Pulcinella are reading your examination report, ensuring no anomalies to your health. Dottore on the other hand, is prescribing you multiple supplements to be taken for this one week. Rosalyne and Arlecchino are preparing your meal, only the best and warmest for you!

"Yaah, it seems like our little princess is getting sleepy!" Childe chirps while Pantalone eyes him to keep his voice down.

"Well I think it's fine if she wants to sleep now, she just went through all those troublesome checkups today," Sandrone replies as she makes sure the angle of the bowtie is perfect.

"I'm sure both Signora and Arlecchino are nowhere near finishing the dishes for Princess," Columbina humms as she combs your furs, the best thing you could ever wish for.

Capitano freezes midway, contemplating whether he should keep letting you lick the snack.

"I think it's better to end her snack time now, she might not eat her dinner because she's full later," Pantalone chides the confused Captain.

Capitano put away the snack and asked both Pierro and Pulcinella about the report,

"How is it? Any anomalies?"

"She's in peak-perfect condition, it's great that she doesn't catch a cold anymore," Pierro says as he hands Capitano the report.

"It would be worrying if she catches one again, if that happens again, maybe we should let her visit the other nation," Pulcinella suggests jokingly.

"If so, that would only halt her from adapting, Rooster. Remember, no matter where she heads, she is still our Nation's pride and joy"

Everyone looks toward the Tsaritsa who is staring at them all sternly,

With you on her lap.

"Honestly, that old hag doesn't look so intimidating anymore with princess sleeping on her lap," Dottore mumbled to himself before he is surprised by Arlecchino's response.

"I know right, she doesn't feel cold anymore like the ice she is. Maybe Princess really is her portable heater"

"Arlecchino, be careful of spilling princess' milk," Signora reminds the Knave as she carries a tray of meals, one that looks tasty even for humans except that it's served for you.

"Princess, wake up~ your dinner's ready~" Signora places down the tray while poking you, her voice completely different from how she usually speaks.

To be fair, everyone's tone is different when it comes to you,

"Princess, it's your favorite," Capitano holds the bowl in front of your nose, the smell tempting you to wake up and lick your lip.

God~~ even the sternest Captain is cooing at you~~

"The milk? Warm! Tasty! Princess~~ come to quench your thirst with this~~" Childe holds the bowl in front of you as well.

"Look at these side treats," Arlecchino holds some treats in which Dottore has inserted the supplements into it.

"You have to make sure she eats it all!" He whispers into her ear.

"Ohoho! Look at these chickens, oh no, it's me but minced and cooked isn't it?"

'What a grandpa-style joke' everyone thinks to themselves.

You stretch yourself, tail wagging from left to right before sniffing the meal. It does look really tasty, different from your daily meals, probably because you just had your check-ups.

"Oh? She's finally eating it now" Sandrone watches in adoration.

Everyone watches you eat peacefully, with you no longer weirded out by this.

"Slowly, no one's taking your dinner away princess~" Pantalone coos at you as his finger brushes your fave lightly.

"Maybe she thought we are all here to eat her dinner, hehe," Columbine chortles in response.

"Come to think of it, where's Balladeer?" Pierro asks after he counts the people in the chamber.

Your head perks up and you pull out a wooden doll.

The wooden doll looks oddly familiar, way too familiar.

It's Scaramouche.

"What?" Everyone rhymes.

The wooden doll moves by itself angrily, jumping up and down, left and right while smokes fuming out of the wood.

You smack it playfully before giving it a playful lick, returning its form back.

"Hah! Great! Finally, someone notices that I'm missing! After a whole day getting smacked by her!"

True, you have been playing Scaramouche, smacking, rolling, and munching him.

"Balladeer, you must have been having the best time of your life huh?" Pantalone muses, while everyone nods in agreement.

"If that is so true, why not turn yourself into one?" He retorts back.

"Me! Me! I nominate myself to be princess's munching toy!" Childe beams in joy.

"No way, what she needs is something clean, clinically approved" The Doctor sneers.

"You? With your bloody hands from those immoral surgeries?" Sandrone raises one of her eyebrows.

"Hey, there's gloves"

"Metaphorically speaking, you are still dirtily bloody in a way," the Damslette retorts.

Signora chuckles at her retort while the archon only shakes her head.

"Ah."

Everyone looks at the Captain.

In response, he points toward you,

"Ohoho, looks like our little princess has finished her dinner!" The Rooster exclaims merrily.

"Now now, drink your milk princess! You have to stay hydrated!" Arlecchino brings the bowl closer to you.

"Or maybe a bowl of water" Pierro slides it next to the milk.

"Or... juice?" The archon blinks in confusion.

You start drinking all the offered and burp a bit. An aww soon follows.

Dottore elbows Arlecchino to hand you the side treats, with supplements stuffed inside of them.

"Uh... princess, it's tr-"

"It's treat time, Princess!" Damslette snatches the treats from Arlecchino who is stuttering. She knows how Arlecchino feels bad about having to make you eat it without you knowing it.

"Princess, have a bite," Tsaritsa encourages you while scratching your head.

"Huh? The treat looks weir-"

"Now now, let's have you drink some water, even if you are a puppet, you still have to stay hydrated," Dottore cuts Scaramouche by forcing a bottle of water into him with Childe holding him in place.

Everyone only chuckles at this sight.

You too, laugh with them.

A pill was sneaked into your treats, but who are you to break their caring heart? You munch everything until none were left.

Until none were left.

...

You truly hope that everything stays as it is. The Harbingers taking a break from dragging each other down and only basking in your warmth.

You wish you could forever bring warmth to this cold palace.

This cold, lonely palace that stands alone.

"Eternity, that is to be blessed on her"

"What used to be a curse is now a blessing bestowed upon her"

"I suppose it is medically possible as well"

"She is, after all, a warrior that will never die"

"Hehehe... she is indeed the fair woman who will forever sing"

"This whole nation will never mourn if she will forever ring her bell"

"Even if we can't give her a human body, a puppet will always work as the second option"

"I suppose I am the most suitable for crafting her a delicate body"

"The fire in her will never die, for I will be her last spark of fire"

"And I suppose we shall spare no cents when it comes to her"

"Thus this is not an option but an obligation"

"For our princess should never rest in eternity~"

Soon, everyone will hear the bell on your bowtie ringing again.

Note: can you guess everyone's speech correctly? What are your guesses (speech order)? :DD

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thesmallonesblog · 4 months

Text

Just a Jeonghan voice message sucking up to you basically...

Hey it's me. Your boy. Your fave. The one you dream about every night. At least I hope you do or we have a lot to talk about.

I know it's late and you're asleep or just avoiding my calls which if so, ouch. What if I was in danger, in need, lost and alone and afraid? Then what?

I know you're rolling your eyes at that last part.

I know depite the dramatics you're intrigued as to why I'm calling though.

The reason?

You.

After we dropped you off at home Gyu and I were talking and you know what he had the audacity to say to me? That you were going to get a restraining order aganist me if I keep staring at you the way I do. I told him to stop being so dramatic. He's just jealous that I don't give him the attention that I give you.

He didn't deny it either.

But it got me thinking. I don't think I told you once tonight how beautiful you looked. I was so caught up in taking you all in that I was at a loss for words when it came to telling you how you made my heart do backflips. I could have stared at you all night.

The way your whole face lit up whenever Hoshi told you one of his horrible jokes. The way your eyes crinkled at the corners, your laugh filling my ears like the purest music. How animated you got, almost like you were living every moment of the elabote stories Seungkwan kept telling you from our tour.

I can't get enough of you. I never want to get enough of you. I want to keep you close to me always so that I can see you enjoying life. To hear your laugh, To take in your beauty. My world is brighter with you in it. It's complete. I couldn't ask for amything more in this life. I feel so foolish for not being able to tell you this all in person. When I see you tomorrow I'm sure I'll tell you this all again and more. I just couldn't go to sleep without telling you.

And if you listen to this and happen to think 'Hey you know what, this guy is crazy and maybe I should get a restraining order' I'm blaming Gyu for manifesting it and it wont' be pretty.

Please don't let Gyu win this battle - it'll go right to his head and I'll never hear the end of it.

But more so, don't because I need you in my life, I want you in my life and I don't want that to change.

Ok, I think I've poured enough of my heart out to your voicemail for one night. I can't promise I won't do it again tomorrow night.

Maybe you do need a restraining order aganist me.

Ok, love you, miss you BYE

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt #svt fluff #svt imagines #svtcreations #svt fanfic #jeonghan

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doki-doki-imagines · 4 months

Note

Can I ask Johnny, Tomas and maybe some others being mind numbingly in love with the reader??

Like theyre so in love they don't know how to act so they always make a fool of themselves and feel so stupid after???

author note: love this prompt. Added Liu Kang so I could write for my 3 fave boys🫶🏻.

Johnny Cage: -He doesn't leave you alone. His eyes always search for yours even for just a brief glance. -Johnny smiles way more around you and also listens to you like the universal truth is flowing from your lips. -Everybody can tell he has a crush on you. The problem is that nobody takes him seriously. -When you talk to Johnny face to face, he totally gets lost looking at your face. He has a dreamy expression and will totally bite his lower lip. -Damn, he doesn't remember a word you said, but he could listen to you the whole day. -Johnny shows off every time you get near him, blabbering on how good he is at everything. How can you not fall for such a dripilicious guy? -"Look at me, I'm winning this for you!" He's gonna lose. -But you can tell his sentiment is pure. Maybe calling it love is a stretch, but Johnny isn't joking…most of the time. -Even if he keeps failing wooing you, Johnny not gonna stop. He doesn't have any shame, so he doesn't mind failing. The moment of dejection always lasts very little.

Tomas Vrbada: -The guy gets obsessed. -He keeps glancing at you, but the moment you look back, Tomas turns his head down like a kid getting caught stealing from the cookie jar. -You fill his brain. Tomas trains? He thinks of you. He eats? He thinks that he'd like to share this delicious food with you. -And damn, when Tomas doesn't have any important mission going on, his mind starts to wander. He is like a schoolgirl jiggling and kicking his feet in the air every time you are just normally kind to him. -The kind that hugs his pillow when sleeping, thinking it is your body. -Tomas is down deep, so deep it reaches his knees, and he can't move. -He is a sweet guy, it happenes to him to stutter and for his cheeks to get tomato red, but Tomas is reaching new peaks. -Once Tomas was talking with Liang at Wu Shi Academy. He turned his head and his grey-ish eyes locked on yours, Tomas then missed a step and fell down the stairs rolling directly at your feet. -Tomas knows he looks like a fool, but it's not like he is doing that on purpose. He'd gladly smash his head against concrete if that would make him go normal. -Thankfully, Tomas will get normal, that you like him back or not, but before reaching that point, there is a long road ahead…

Liu Kang: -After living for so long, after shaping so many timelines, Liu Kang thought to have learnt from his and others' mistakes. -You never have a part in his life, that's why it comes as a surprise when you both start to work together. -It wasn't planned, Liu Kang didn't have to pull any strings. You just…happened. -And something blossomed in Liu Kang's heart, a feeling he once felt but forgot for aeons. -He is in love. -Liu Kang may have lived for centuries, but he didn't gain any rizz. His good boy charm long forgotten since he became a god. He is still nice but much less loose. -And it shows. -Should he give you gifts? But what should he buy? Looking at your life in the hourglass wouldn't be right. But the temptation is high. -At times, Liu Kang is just chatting with you, and something shiver inducing (and not for pleasure) slips out his mouth. Obviously, Liu Kang notices but a minute to late. He'll gladly dig his own grave with his bare hands. -He is so fucking sure one day you'll tell him to stop bothering you. -Liu Kang desire to touch you is immense, but you still haven't reached that point in your relationship. -When you sit next to each other, drinking a hot beverage, every fibre in Liu Kang's body screams to touch you. Tracing the lines of your face with his fingertips, brushing away the hair that hides your face, losing himself in your eyes. -Liu Kang is lovesick. -Every step to make you close is really hard for him, so blinded by his own feelings that he doesn't see that they are reciprocated. -You'll totally need to take the first step.

#mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk headcanons #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #liu kang #liu kang x reader #tomas vrbada #mk1 smoke #tomas x reader #smoke x reader

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 year

Text

The Ultimatum | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hello! I've been BUSY as fuck with school lately, y'all. It is truly a nightmare. I'm talking tests on tests on tests on finals on finals. But I'm almost done with the semester and I FINALLY finished this fic that I've been working on for-fucking-ever. It's got the angst and the yearning and the pain with a happy ending, which is my fave. Thanks for reading and thanks for being patient while I suffer through school :)

Word count: 9.6k

Warnings: implied emotional abuse, manipulative boyfriend, anxiety, general sad vibes (but happy ending, as always <3)

At this point, Bucky had almost forgotten how to react to a knock at the door. He stood almost frozen, not quite recognizing the sound of knuckles against the wood. It seemed to him like a foreign, otherworldly occurrence. Like something newsworthy, something he’d see on the front page. He didn’t ever get visitors- well, at least not anymore.

It struck him as odd, the thought of an unsolicited visitor dropping by- and so late; it was almost eleven. And though he didn’t feel like making small talk with the old lady who lived across the hall, he figured he should open the door. Maybe his elderly neighbor needed help. Maybe she locked herself out and needed somewhere to wait for the landlord. And who was he to ignore her? She was always sweet. She treated him not like a monster, but a human being. And to Bucky, that was a novel experience- something worthy of backpay. So, if she needed to hang around his apartment for a while until the landlord arrived to unlock her door, he’d let her.

But when he opened the front door, he didn’t find old Mrs. Beverly. A sharp inhale barreled into him at the sight of you waiting on his welcome mat, the same one that you always joked about; you told him time and time again he should’ve called it a “go away mat”.

Everything inside Bucky came screeching to a halt. No heartbeat, no thoughts. Just shock. A rush of goosebumps flashed over his skin at the mere sight of you within arm’s reach once again. An immediate smile splashed across his face- a smile he hadn’t worn since the last time he saw you. Butterflies swarmed inside his stomach and wriggled into his lungs, their wings constricting his breathing. Seeing you again was the first day of spring after a seemingly never-ending winter. The first rays of sun poking through frost riddled branches and dead leaves. This was salvation.

“You said…” This was harder than you expected. Seeing Bucky again warmed parts of you that you didn’t know had gone cold. Just the sight of him helped you breathe easier. He made you lighter, calmer. He brought you a sense of comfort you stopped searching for months ago. Around him, all your sharp edges softened. But you didn’t know how to talk to him- not anymore. At one time, he was your safe place- the safest place you could imagine. During the bitterest of winters, he was your hearth, your home. You shared a secret language spoken only by the two of you.

But not anymore. Not for a while now.

You weren’t the same person you’d been when you knew him. To some, it was an imperceptible change. But you felt it every day. Missing Bucky wormed its way into your cells, tangling itself with your DNA. It became a building block of your very being. Losing him damaged your soul, leaving the edges frayed and torn.

The stark silence of the empty hallway made Bucky’s ears ring. He stared at you, his mouth slightly ajar, a look of bewilderment on his face. He took in the mascara smeared beneath your eyes, the soaking wet clothes hanging from your body. Only the quiet drip drip drip of water leaving your drenched hair dared disturb the silence.

The words you rehearsed on your way over dissolved. They abandoned you without a trace, leaving only one clumsy sentence in their place. “You said I could always come here if I needed you,” you finally said.

All Bucky could do was nod.

“Well… I need you,” you threw him a sheepish smile. “Can I come in?”

Again, Bucky nodded. His thoughts raced and collided with each other, filling his mind with noise. But he managed an “of course”; he needed you to know you were welcome. Of course, you were welcome. You were always welcome. He just hadn’t had the pleasure of inviting you into his home in what felt like a lifetime.

A deep sigh of relief left your chest. Part of you expected him to slam the door in your face. You squeezed past him, careful not to brush against his clothes and get him all wet- though he wouldn’t have minded. He was just happy to see you again.

The sound of your wet sneakers squeaking across the hardwood set your nerves on edge. But being back in his apartment eased them right away. This space used to be your home away from home, the place you felt most comfortable. Sometimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you thought about its worn, wood floors or the orange light that poured through the windows at sunset. Just thinking about the way this place cloaked you in safety and warmth remedied your anxious mind and eased you into a peaceful sleep.

Everything sat in nearly the exact same place as the last time you were here. That was just like Bucky- constant, consistent. But as you let your gaze drift over the room, you noticed a few foreign pieces of décor. He’d gotten some new furnishings since you last visited. A cozy-looking blanket lay strewn across the couch. A large armchair- perfect for reading- sat next to the window.

All this time, you worried about Bucky. You wondered how he was getting along, how he was handling things on his own. But he was okay. He made good on his chance at a new life. You only wished you could’ve been a part of it.

A thousand questions swarmed inside of Bucky’s brain. He had so many things to ask you, so much he wanted to catch up on. But one question sat at the top of his list. It was his first priority, his greatest worry: “Are you okay?”

A large huff left your chest, “I got into a big fight with Alex.” Part of you feared you were being dramatic. Bucky would never judge you- you knew he wouldn’t. But showing up out of the blue, late at night, drenched from head to toe because you argued with your boyfriend felt ridiculous. Maybe even pathetic. “He got mad- he didn’t want me to go out with my friends tonight,” you sighed. “Because I didn’t ask him first.”

“Because you didn’t ask him first?” Bucky nearly scoffed, “What- is he your father?” He checked himself immediately. A soft, “sorry” followed his less than subtle dig at your boyfriend, his attempt to assuage his mistake. He didn’t want you to put you on the defensive or make you regret your decision to reach out. Clearly, you needed him. And Bucky wasn’t about to ruin your attempt at seeking help.

But a quiet laugh pushed its way past your lips, easing Bucky’s worries. He always knew how to validate your feelings. “He was just being so-” you dragged your palms down your damp cheeks and thought back on the argument. “He’s so difficult. Sometimes, I feel like I’m on a leash or something. A short leash.”

Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He mulled over his next words, careful not to let another outburst escape without his permission. But a pressing thought jumped through his lips without warning. “Wait- why are you all wet?” Bucky said. “Sorry, I- we absolutely need to talk about what happened. But… you’re soaked. What happened?”

With a swipe of your hand, you rid your forehead of a few water droplets that tried to escape your hairline. “Well, it’s pouring,” you gestured toward the rain-spattered window. “And I walked here.”

His eyes went wide, “you walked here? From your place?”

You nodded.

Your demeanor was all too casual for Bucky. With decent weather- in the daylight- the walk wasn’t that bad. But in a torrential downpour at 11pm, it was dangerous. It was far. “Jesus Christ…” Bucky couldn’t believe you did such a thing. It wasn’t safe- not with the rain, and especially not with the suspicious men that lurked the city streets at night. He thanked the universe you hadn’t been preyed upon on your journey to his apartment. “Why’d you walk?”

“Alex wouldn’t give me my purse,” you punctuated your sentence with the crossing of your arms. “We were fighting about me going out with my friends. And then things kinda blew up and he took my fucking purse.” The anger smoldering in your chest scorched through every blood vessel, broiling your cells. “He thought that if I didn’t have my keys or my wallet, he could stop me from going out.”

Bucky matched your eye roll with one of his own. He could practically see the short leash you mentioned only moments ago. He couldn’t believe Alex took your things. Well, he could believe it- he just didn’t want to imagine you in such a situation. It seemed to Bucky that Alex wanted to keep you locked away like a princess in a tower; and Alex played the role of the fire-breathing dragon.

“And then I missed out on dinner and dancing with the girls anyway cause our argument blew up.” A swift sadness snuffed out your sizzling rage. “So, I guess he won after all…” This night out with your friends was the one thing keeping you sane the past few weeks. Every time Alex did something to hurt you, to disrespect or belittle you, you thought about seeing your friends. About having a glass of wine or two and spending a few hours with the women in your life. You wanted to hear about their promotions, their wedding planning, their upcoming vacations. But most of all, you wanted their comfort.

And he stole that from you.

Bucky wanted to wring Alex’s neck. He wanted to make him disappear. He wanted to cut you free from the cement blocks Alex tied to your feet. But the sharp shiver that rocketed through your body put those thoughts on pause.

“Here, let’s get you some dry clothes to change into, alright?”

“Oh… that’s-” You shook your head. Sure, you wanted to change out of your sopping wet clothes and into something cozier. But you didn’t deserve Bucky’s kindness or concern. Not anymore. You couldn’t let him do this for you, not after you showed up unannounced. Not after what you did. “That’s okay. I’m fine. Really.”

But Bucky clocked the shaking in your fingers, the way you fought to keep your teeth from chattering. “Come on, it’s okay.” He reached for your icy hand and gave it a squeeze, only for a brief second. But it was enough to warm you from the inside out. “We both know you’re freezing. Just let me give you something to wear for a while. Okay?” He sensed the trepidation in your expression, the way you avoided eye contact. “It’s not an imposition or anything like that- just a friend helping a friend.” The patience and understanding behind his warm smile was so genuine, so authentic- you couldn’t help but believe him.

And though you knew it wasn’t right to accept his kind gesture, you couldn’t help yourself. The cold pierced through your bones and chilled you to the very soul- you weren’t strong enough to resist his offer. And, selfishly, you wanted to wrap yourself in Bucky’s clothes. They were always cozier, more comfortable than your own. The fabric seemed to hang on to his warm scent; you never realized you could miss a smell so much until it vanished from your own clothes. Your hair.

“Um, okay. Yeah,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

Your acceptance of his offer made Bucky beam- but you were still stuck on him referring to you as a friend. After all this time, after what you did to him, you couldn’t believe he’d still regard you with such affection.

You slipped out of your sneakers and socks and followed Bucky down the familiar hall to his bedroom. The memories embedded in these walls were your favorite days. Your most comfortable nights. Coming back to Bucky’s place allowed you to visit them all once again- something you never permitted anymore. Conjuring those memories brought you the greatest comfort and the sharpest, most soul-crushing pain. Seeking salvation in the past only served to remind you that Bucky was no longer part of your present, nor your future. And that hurt worse than any gunshot wound.

Just to be safe, you secured those happy memories in vault and buried it deep inside your mind, never allowing them to escape or see the light of day.

But it was a crushing loss.

“So, um… why didn’t you call?” Bucky looked over his shoulder for a split second, as though to make sure you were following him. “I would’ve picked you up, that way you wouldn’t have had to walk in the rain…”

Of course, he would’ve. He would’ve given his remaining arm for you.

You pulled at your soaking wet t-shirt, desperate to distract yourself. This was too awkward, too pathetic.

“I was afraid that…” You cleared your throat. “I um, I didn’t think you’d answer. Cause of what I did.” The wet hem of your t-shirt gave you little relief as you picked at its stitching to stem the anxiety. “I thought it was better if I just- you know, if I just came here. If I just showed up.” You rolled your eyes at your own logic, “if I called, there was a chance you wouldn’t answer.”

Bucky shook his head, “I would’ve-”

“I didn’t wanna chance it,” you said. “Cause if you blocked my number and that’s how I found out, I might’ve walked into traffic.”

Bucky knew you too well, knew you were making a joke to hide your very real fear of his rejection. “Well, I didn’t block your number,” he said after a moment, “I don’t know how.” And before you could spiral, Bucky turned to face you. “I would’ve answered. I will always answer.” His words were so genuine, so steadfast, that you nearly stopped breathing.

“I think I knew that…” you said, your voice almost imperceptible. “I think it scared me.”

Even after all this time apart, he remembered the way your voice grew thin when shame got the best of you. If he were being honest, he thought about the sound of your voice every day.

He knew you well enough to know when you were nervous. When you couldn’t stand to make eye contact. And so, he turned his back to you and continued in the direction of his bedroom, giving you a moment to yourself.

“Here we are,” Bucky pushed open his bedroom door and gestured for you to enter, allowing you to go ahead of him. But he sensed your hesitation, your uneasiness. He clocked it in the way your eyes just missed his, the way your fingers pulled at the fabric of your shirt. The two of you stood there in the hallway, stalling outside his bedroom door as though trapped in wet cement. Bucky broke free first.

“Alright, let’s find you something comfortable!” He dipped his words in positivity and

threw a too-cheery affectation on top for good measure. He just wanted to make you feel more at ease, more relaxed. But he knew a dry shirt and some sweatpants couldn’t fix the damage Alex did.

It was more than that, though. Bucky could feel the uncomfortable tension radiating off you like rays of the sun. You didn’t know how to act around him now, didn’t know how to navigate the crumbled ruins of your relationship. It was obvious. You didn’t readily enter his bedroom- how could you? You didn’t feel entitled to that space- or any space of his- anymore. And Bucky was going to change your mind or die trying.

“Okay, so you definitely need a pair of socks…” He rifled through his top drawer until he found a pair thick enough to keep you warm.

“And sweatpants? Yeah?” He looked at you expectantly, awaiting your approval.

You nodded. You’d accept anything he gave you- or didn’t give you. You didn’t have the right to his help, his clothes, or his comforts.

But he pushed on. Happily. He scrounged around the shelves in his closet and in his dresser drawers, searching for a pair that would fit.

And as he dug through seemingly every article of clothing he owned, you gave the room a once over. He’d gotten a small, slightly shabby bookshelf in the time since you last saw the place. An army of novels with cracked spines and distressed covers lined the warped wood like soldiers protecting him from the nightmares. He still only had one pillow, and his sheets were the same dark gray cotton. But his bedspread was new; it was the same one you advised he get for the colder months. At the time, he said he didn’t need anything heavier than the thin blanket that adorned his bed. And you knew it was just another way for him to punish himself, to refuse even the slightest comfort.

But the insulation in his cheap apartment did nothing to provide a reprieve from the biting winter. And clearly, he caved to your recommendation- even after things between you went south. A small smile crept across your face at the thought. At least you’d been able to help him in some way or another. Because of you, he stayed warm. He protected himself from the frigid temperatures. It eased your conscience, no matter how slightly.

“I think these will work…” Bucky held a pair of sweatpants up to your body. “I mean, they’re still gonna be way too big, but they’re the smallest pair I have.” He outstretched his hand and offered them to you, “we can tie the waist really tight and roll ‘em up so they’re not too long- don’t want you to trip.”

You hesitated for only a moment, unable to resist the dry, warm fabric of his worn sweats.

“Oh- you need a top,” he said, making his way toward the closet once again, “I have just the thing…” He reached up toward the top shelf of his closet in search of something; and before he had the chance to show you, you realized just what he was looking for.

It was what you used to wear at Bucky’s as makeshift pajamas or when it got too cold. He used to say it was yours just as much as it was his. Back then, you slept over by accident a few times a week. Sometimes, he needed you late at night. Sometimes, he just needed you to be there while he slept- he was more comfortable that way. You always made him feel safe. But after one too many nights of you struggling to sleep in uncomfortable clothes, Bucky presented you with this very sweatshirt. He wanted to give you something- anything- to make you more comfortable. And so, he dug around his closet for his coziest, most comforting crewneck.

It came in handy every time the heating failed and the shotty insulation left you chilled to the bone. Bucky always pulled it out for you and watched with a smile as you tugged the soft, green fabric over your head. Sure, the heat at your apartment worked great. At home, you didn’t have to dress in layers or drink endless ups of scalding hot tea to keep warm.

But some days, Bucky couldn’t stand to leave the house. And you couldn’t let him rot away all alone. So, you made your way to his place, in rain or snow, and sat with him. Talked with him. Made him tea and brought him food.

He hadn’t been able to touch that sweatshirt ever since you left. Didn’t even want to look at it. But he kept it clean for you- just in case.

“Is this okay?” Memory after memory of you accepting this very sweatshirt flashed through Bucky’s head. It used to be a routine of sorts, but it felt foreign now.

Something in you nearly cracked. This whole thing was too much. It seemed like you’d been dropped into a film about your own life, and someone behind the camera forced you to play out this scene just to hurt you. It made you ache for before. Before you left, before things fell apart, before you made the decision you knew was wrong.

Bucky stared at you, an expectant look on his face. He waited for you to take the relic of the better days you once shared, hoping it would bring them back to life.

But you hesitated. You eyed the garment, fearing the fabric would send you into a spiral. The threads were heavy with memories. And after everything you did, who were you to accept this gesture of goodwill?

“This is- I really appreciate it. But…” you refused the sweatshirt. And instead, tried to hand the sweatpants and socks back to Bucky. “I can’t accept all this. It’s not-”

“Yes, you can.” Bucky’s words were definitive. He allowed no room for arguments. “You’ll be a lot warmer.” He offered you a gentle smile and once again stretched the sweatshirt in your direction. “Get changed and we can put your clothes in the dryer,” he said, turning toward the door. “I’ll be right outside.”

A nod and a quiet “thank you” were all you could muster. And as Bucky left the room and shut the door, you wondered how he could possibly treat you so kindly after what happened. Ever since you left, you berated yourself daily. It was part of your routine now, almost like you’d penciled it into your calendar. The guilt kept you up at night and distracted you during the workday.

But Bucky was a good person. And he’d never hate you the way you hated yourself.

Slipping into his sweatshirt felt almost criminal. You saved it for last, choosing first to shimmy into his sweatpants and wrap your feet in his warm socks. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t right- none of this was right. Allowing Bucky to treat you with such hospitality, such care, wasn’t fair to him- not after what you put him through. But as you tugged his sweatshirt over your head, your selfishness eclipsed that feeling of wrongdoing.

It was just as you remembered it- oversized but not massive. Warm but not suffocating. The worn fabric eased over your skin and cloaked you in the kind of comfort you knew you didn’t deserve. And for the first time since you left, you experienced genuine comfort.

“Oh, hey,” Bucky was waiting for you in the hall, just like he said he would. “I’ll take those,” he took your wet clothes and nearly recoiled at just how cold the fabric felt against his skin. You must’ve been miserable- and yet, you’d tried to refuse the dry clothes he offered. His heart broke for you all over again. He tossed the piled of sopping fabric into the dryer and shot you a kind smile.

Bucky stared at you as the machine began to rumble; part of him wondered if this was real. He’d had plenty of dreams about this moment, about your return to his life. But none were ever this real, this believable. And as he observed you standing there in his old sweatshirt, he decided that if this was all some strange, lucid concoction of his psyche, he never wanted to wake up.

But the trembling in your hands caught his attention once again, pulling his smile into a deep frown. The warm, dry clothes did their best to shake the chill, but to no avail.

“Let me make you some tea,” Bucky gestured toward the kitchen. “I have some-”

“Oh, that’s okay.” You tucked your shaking hands into the long sleeves of Bucky’s sweatshirt, flashing him a forced smile. “I’ll warm up in a minute.”

His old, familiar eyeroll brought a real smile to your face with ease. The two of you fell back into your old habits, your old way of relating, far too easily. Before you left, he always tried to give you things or do things for you when you hung out at his place. He knew his apartment was shitty, that you gave up time with your friends and boyfriend for him. And to compensate, he always had an offer in his back pocket: tea, takeout, baked goods from the place down the street. He had to make up for the burden he placed on you. And every time, you refused. The two of you would fake argue and banter until you finally conceded. And, with a smile, he’d make you a cup of tea or braid your hair the way Shuri showed him.

You knew how much it meant to him to be able to give you something in return for your kindness- no matter how many times you told him your friendship wasn’t transactional.

“I’m making you some tea, d-” Bucky caught himself, cutting off the word that rested on the tip of his tongue. He knew he shouldn’t call you ‘doll’ anymore. With a forced clearing of his throat, he pivoted. “I have some jasmine. Is that still your go-to?”

You nodded. Deep within you, an ache for your old nickname stirred.

Bucky busied his hands with mugs and sugar and spoons. He always kept your favorite jasmine tea on hand, just in case. It stayed in the cupboard, front and center, ready for your return. But the box sat untouched. He hadn’t made any- not since you left. Just the smell of it was enough to break his heart all over again.

Every time he opened that cabinet, your tea stared back at him. And though seeing it threw him back in time and punched him in the gut with longing, he couldn’t get rid of it. Throwing it out would mean that you’d never come back, and he couldn’t accept that.

Bucky put the kettle on and tiptoed into rocky territory. “So, can I ask…” he toyed with a spoon, avoiding eye contact, “why didn’t you call an Uber or something?”

A pang of embarrassment jolted through you like lightning. Admitting the truth of your relationship only served to make you feel stupid. You’d lost count of the number of times your friends gasped or booed when you told them about something Alex did or said. And though you knew that the urge to hide his less-than-loving tendencies was a blood red flag in and of itself, you couldn’t help it.

But you didn’t have to hide with Bucky. Ever.

“I deleted my rideshare accounts,” you sighed. “Or- Alex did. He doesn’t like me using them cause he doesn’t trust that I won’t-”

You cut your next thought off at the knees. Months ago, Alex confronted you about your use of ride share apps. He suspected you of cheating, of sneaking away. His words dripped with contempt as he spat accusation after accusation your way, never stopping to listen to the truth. Sometimes, you needed a ride to work. Or to your sister’s house. But he didn’t care. “I know you’ve been going to see him- to see Barnes,” he’d said, “I know you’ve been going to see that psycho.”

That night, while you slept, he deleted your Uber and Lyft accounts and forbade you from ever downloading the apps again.

“He also cut up my Metro card,” you said, your voice quieter now. Admitting these things felt traitorous. Treasonous. Like giving intel to the opposing side. Alex didn’t like Bucky. And Bucky didn’t like Alex- rightfully so. Spilling your guts supplied Bucky with enough ammo to destroy the man you supposedly loved. But Bucky didn’t fire a single shot.

He, instead, wrangled his negative thoughts about Alex and locked them away for the time being. The strong urge tear your shitty boyfriend apart rattled inside Bucky’s brain. It clawed and thrashed at the bars of the cage in which Bucky trapped it. Talking shit about your boyfriend, while satisfying, wasn’t important. You were Bucky’s top priority. He needed to make sure you were comfortable, that you felt safe. There was something in the way you spoke about Alex; a not-so-subtle tinge of anxiety- of fear- that tarnished every word you said about him. And thinking about the cause turned Bucky’s stomach.

He just wanted to be there for you, whatever that meant. If you needed to vent, Bucky would listen. If you needed to cry, he’d offer you his shoulder. And if you needed to sit in silence, drinking your tea, and pretending your boyfriend didn’t exist for a while, Bucky would join you in the quiet.

“Oh. Um…” Bucky didn’t know what to say. His anger toward your boyfriend boiled under the surface, but he didn’t dare let it overflow. Instead, he pulled the kettle from the stove just as it started to sing. “Well… I’m glad you made it here safely,” he said. It was all he could think of.

You shrugged, “I kinda ruined your Saturday night, though.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and gave you a laugh, “you could never ruin my night.”

Without a second thought or a moment’s pause, he prepared your tea just the way you liked it. Even after all this time, even after the issues with his memory, he never forgot. He delivered a perfect splash of milk, a flawless dose of sugar. It was as though he’d done this just yesterday- and all the days before.

“Plus, do you really think I had plans tonight?” Bucky said as he handed you your tea.

“Hey, I don’t know…” you sipped your tea; it was even the perfect temperature. “Maybe you’re a real social butterfly now. Maybe you have a weekly poker game or plans with Sam.” You shrugged, “maybe you have a girlfriend.”

Things fell quiet after that. Bucky sipped at his tea. You scratched absentmindedly at the tile counter. Neither of you knew what to say or how to say it. And it crushed you. Before, the conversation between you and Bucky flowed so easily, so smoothly. You read each other’s’ minds and anticipated nearly every word. And in the silences, things were comfortable. Cozy. Content.

This was awkward, tense. It sent a shiver up your spine.

“You’re still freezing.” A worried scowl carved a deep line in Bucky’s forehead. “Come on, let’s get you under a blanket, okay?” He wrapped an arm around you back- loosely- and guided you toward the living room.

The gesture almost made you tear up. Bucky was always so kind. So gentle and soft and warm. It was a warmth you hadn’t experienced in a long time. But part of you almost wanted to distrust his kindness. It seemed to you like an omen, a kind of warning. Or even a trap. At home, sweet gestures like these always meant trouble brewing beneath the surface. They led to shouting and crying. To accusations and fear and distrust.

They came with a catch.

Bucky didn’t.

He simply held your tea while you got comfortable on the couch. He wrapped you in a blanket and asked if you wanted another. And when he was confident that you were, indeed, warming up, he joined you.

“This might sound pathetic,” Bucky said as he settle into his spot on the couch, “this is the best night that I’ve had in a really long time.” He knew you were only in his home due to unfortunate, unkind circumstances. He knew he shouldn’t be celebrating your showing up sopping wet at his apartment late at night, not when he knew what made you do so.

But he so was happy to see you.

Things fell quiet after that. You left all of your peace behind the last time you left Bucky’s apartment. You ripped it from your chest and piled it in a corner, abandoning it for your new life. Sure, it hurt. And it left you feeling empty. But it had to be done, didn’t it?

All your life, people emphasized the importance of marriage. Of settling down. They told you that relationships are always hard, that they aren’t like fairytales. And so, you accepted Alex’s empty promises and twisted definition of love. And even when you expressed to your parents that you weren’t sure about Alex, they talked you into staying with him. They cited your age, how difficult it would be to find a husband as you got even older. They scared you into accepting less than you deserved. They scared you into leaving Bucky behind.

Yes, it was you who ultimately made the decision to end your friendship with the kindest person you’d ever known. But you knew you’d never let go of the grudge you held against those in your life who convinced you to settle for Alex. To cut Bucky out of your life. They robbed you of so much time with him, time you’d never get back. And just the thought of all those lost days sent you into deep, endless grief.

Bucky spoke up after a while, “Do you wanna talk about it?” He didn’t want to pry or come on too strong; something in him feared it would scare you off. If this was where you sought solace, if this was where you felt safest, who was he to disturb your newfound sense of peace?

“You don’t have to,” he said, “but you can if you want.”

You did want to talk to Bucky about what happened. You wanted to spill your guts and vomit every less than blissful detail about your life with Alex. Talking to your girlfriends was nice and of course, your therapist was helpful- but there was something about Bucky. He was the only person who really understood you, who could read between the lines and grasp the feelings you struggled to put into words.

But pulling at that thread was dangerous. You’d already tugged at a few pieces, unraveled some shameful details about how things were at home. And if you gave that frayed thread another yank, you feared that every damaged, knotted strand would fall on full display at Bucky’s feet. The prospect scared you more than your late-night walk to Bucky’s.

And who were you to dump your relationship issues on him, anyway? Who were you to disappear with barely any warning, only to show up and vent on his couch? It wasn’t right- none of this was right. Sure, parts of this night were irreversible. You were already there, wearing his clothes, drinking his tea, and sitting on his couch. But you could stop yourself from burdening him any further. You could sew up your leaky wounds and snap your mouth shut, saving him from any more of your grief.

You sidestepped his offer, “No, it’s okay- catch me up on things with you. I wanna know everything.”

Bucky gave you a look. Even after all your time away, he could still read you like the Sunday paper. He knew how badly you needed to simply let go, to unburden yourself. But he knew you wouldn’t.

Your reluctance to share wasn’t a question of his listening skills or your level of comfort with him; it was the shame. He could practically see the guilt oozing from your pores. You didn’t feel as though you deserved to bare your soul to him. It was obvious, perfectly illustrated in the way you yanked your lips into a tight smile each time he looked at you. Showing up at his place unannounced after a seemingly eternal bout of radio silence was one thing. But dumping your problems in his lap? Burying him under your relationship drama? That was simply not allowed.

And so, he told you all about his life- the version that didn’t include you. He told you about the missions he’d been on and the injuries he sustained. The amends. The shitty, court appointed therapist who treated him more like a criminal than a client. The boat he fixed up with Sam. The old man with whom he ate lunch every week.

He almost seemed happy. Almost. He actually had a life now. A friend who wasn’t also a coworker. He went on a date. Sure, there were things to be desired. He still had nightmares. Anxiety. He still wrestled with the ghosts of his past and the fear of his future. But he was doing better. And while it was all you ever wanted for him, it stung knowing you didn’t get to see him make these strides in real time.

“Wow, you’ve been busy,” you said when he finally finished. “I gotta know more about your lunch dates with this Yori guy- that is adorable.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and laughed his first genuine laugh in months. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I met him as part of my amends, but I-”

A harsh knock at the door cut him off. Both your eyes and Bucky’s slid in the direction of the sound. And though neither of you said a word, the air in the room changed. It grew thick and heavy, weighted down with an almost sickening dread.

Bucky locked eyes with you, his stare tunneling through your skull.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he said, keeping his voice low.

You nodded.

A guttural groan clawed and kicked at your throat, but you refused to set it free.

His voice was low, his volume calculated, “We’ll just be quiet.” Bucky glanced at the door once more, waiting for another round of knocks. “He won’t know we’re here, okay?”

You could barely hear him over the hum of the fridge, the sounds of the city. You gave a slow, subtle nod, fearing the sound even the slightest motion might make.

“I know you’re in there, Barnes,” Alex’s voice punched through the door. “I saw your bike downstairs.” He knocked again, his knuckled booming against the door. Your blood stopped in its tracks. You could’ve sworn you felt it settle in your veins.

Bucky stood from the couch with a nearly silent, “It’s okay”. He hated the way your face dropped, the way your knuckles changed color as you gripped the pillow in your lap.

“Barnes!” Alex practically growled through the door, “open up!”

“Come with me.” Bucky’s voice was barely audible, but still the most comforting sound you’d ever heard. He helped you from the couch, steadying you as the anxiety sent tremors through your every nerve. He guided you to his room with quiet, careful steps. He noted the way you yanked your shoulders upward, the way you kept your eyes on the floor.

Bucky hated the effect Alex had on you. He turned you into a hollow, fragile version of yourself that Bucky found nearly unrecognizable. He chipped away at your confidence and self-esteem, using precise, masterful blows to your weakest points. He reduced you to a pile of dust and shards of your old self.

Bucky wished to turn Alex into nothing but a memory.

“Just stay in here till he’s gone. Don’t come out,” Bucky said once you reached his room. He rested a palm to your cheek for the briefest of seconds, “I’m gonna take care of it, okay?”

And before you had a chance to relish in the warmth of his skin against yours, he vanished.

His footsteps grew more distant as he made his way to the front door. With each centimeter he put between the two of you, you grew more anxious, more uncomfortable. He was your safety blanket, your rock. Without him, you’d learned to cope. You survived. But you never truly thrived. And now that you got your fix of him, being without him for even a second left you unable to breathe.

Bucky opened the door, feigning a look of surprise, “Alex- wow, hey. How are you? Haven’t seen you in-”

“Cut the bullshit. I’m not in the mood.” Alex’s tone sliced clear through Bucky’s attempt at casual levity. “Where is she?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “What?”

You could practically see Alex rolling his eyes, curling his hands into fists. “Don’t gimme that- you know what I’m talking about.”

Bucky gave pause and shook his head. “I really don’t…” Part of him feared he may be doing too much. He knew he had to perfectly toe the line without overplaying his role of ‘confused ex-best friend’. The last thing he wanted was to fuck this up, to let it slip that he was harboring you in his home. He knew it would be bad for you, that Alex would make your life a living hell if he found out. And he was damn sure not going to let that happen. “Is everything okay, man? It’s pretty late.”

Alex’s glare tunneled through Bucky’s skull, “Where’s my girlfriend, James?”

It wasn’t a question- but an accusation.

“What do you mean?” Bucky coatedhis words in a thick layer of concern. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s-” Alex huffed. He was over it. His paper-thin patience shredded into sharp, tiny pieces. “I know you know where she is. I know she probably called you or something.”

“She didn’t-”

A knowing look crossed Alex’s features and quickly devolved into one of betrayal, of disgust. “Is she here- she’s here isn’t she?”

Bucky’s heart sank into the swirling pit in his stomach. He couldn’t mess this up. He couldn’t ruin the sanctuary you sought in his home. This was your safe place, your peace. And he had to protect it. “Is she here? No. Why would she be here?”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I haven’t seen her.” Bucky raised his hands in surrender, “We haven’t spoken in- she hasn’t contacted me in over a year.” Saying the words out loud hit him in a way he hadn’t expected. It prodded at him like a fireplace poker, hot from the flames. God, he missed you.

“Right…” Alex rolled his eyes. “Of course. Just fuckin… whatever, man. If you so happen to see her, tell her to get home. Soon.” He turned on his heel and backed out of Bucky’s doorway, a snide look on his face.

Bucky wanted to separate Alex’s head from his body. This man didn’t wish for your homecoming as a concerned boyfriend. He didn’t hope for your safe return or ask for help finding you. Not a sliver of worry even came close to piercing his arrogant, callous surface. He’d let you spill out onto the late-night streets, hurt and distraught, as a torrential downpour drowned the city. He didn’t care that you had no means of transport. No wallet. He didn’t care that your clothes didn’t protect you from the freezing rain.

And he walked away from Bucky cocky. He left threats hanging in the air. He wanted you home as a means of control. Of punishment.

But at least he was gone. He stalked off, mumbling something about you “learning your lesson”. It made Bucky nauseous. He wanted to keep you in his apartment for as long as possible. At least, that way, he’d know you were out of Alex’s reach.

He didn’t want to think about how your return home would play out, how Alex would treat you when you finally walked through the door. Something- a lot of things- about Alex didn’t sit right with Bucky. Alex struck him as a manipulator, a narcissist. Someone to fear. He could understand why you’d walk far too many blocks in the freezing, torrential rain just to get away.

Bucky shut the door and turned the deadbolt. He secured the chain. Even checked through the peephole to make sure Alex hadn’t returned. He couldn’t be too careful- not when you were involved. “Alright, he’s gone,” Bucky called as he headed in your direction. “He’s an intense guy, I didn’t-”

But as Bucky entered his bedroom, he found it empty. “He’s gone, I swear. You don’t have to hide anymore.” Bucky popped his head into the closet and bathroom but found no sign of you. “Hey, where’d you go?”

The sound of the dryer door, however, tipped him off.

He discovered you in his small laundry room, retrieving your clothes from the dryer.

“Oh, I don’t think those are all the way dry yet. You know this thing is kinda old,” he gave the dryer a gentle kick. “You should probably leave your stuff in there a little while longer.”

You didn’t answer.

Bucky watched you fish your underwear out of the bottom of the dryer. He offered to help when your shirt got tangled with your shorts. But you stayed quiet. You kept your back to him and your gaze downcast, focused on the wet fabric in your hands.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Bucky placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I know Alex showing up wasn’t exactly ideal, but he’s gone. And I-”

Without a word, you turned to face him; only then did he notice the tears streaming down your face. They met under your chin and curved down your neck, dampening the fabric of Bucky’s sweatshirt. He’d never seen a more sorrowful, gutted expression cross your face- save for the last time he saw you.

Sharp, shallow inhales shook in and out of your chest. And even if you wanted to, you couldn’t force yourself to meet his eyeline.

“Oh no-” Bucky’s heart shattered. His chest tightened and his stomach dropped. He hated seeing you upset, seeing you cry. Immediately, he wondered what he’d done to make you feel this way.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice was gentle, his tone soft. He didn’t demand an answer, like Alex so often did. No, he simply helped guide your words to the surface. He was patient and understanding as you caught your breath, didn’t make any condescending comments about your emotions. Bucky was always kind, always empathetic. He never rushed you. Never forced you to speak before you were ready.

And when you finally found your words, they came out quiet, shameful. “I heard what you said…”

Bucky quickly ran through his conversation with Alex and came up empty. What did he do? What did he say that hurt you like this? But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find the answer. “Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, I- what did I say?”

“About us not talking-” You lifted your head, showing Bucky your red, glassy eyes. “About me not contacting you for over a year.”

Bucky shrugged. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I was just-”

“I shouldn’t be here.” You dropped your damp clothes on top of the washer and tugged at the knots Bucky tied in your sweatpants. “I shouldn’t be wearing your clothes-” You struggled to free yourself from the tightly knotted drawstring. “I shouldn’t be complaining to you. And I shouldn’t- I just shouldn’t be here.”

A low groan rumbled out of your throat as you gave up untying Bucky’s skillful knots. All you wanted was to get out of his clothes, out of his apartment, and out of his hair. A storm of guilt and shame pummeled you, drowning you in regret. Coming here was wrong. Selfish.

“I have no right to be here,” you said, slumping against the dryer and sliding to the floor. “I have no right to come to you for help.”

“What do you- Yes, you do.” Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Of course, you do. You will alwayshave the right to be here.”

Another tidal wave of tears poured down your cheeks. Bucky was so kind- too kind- to you. Too forgiving. Too understanding. Too good. All you could do was shake your head and apologize. Vehemently.

“I’m so sorry…” you said, your voice cracking. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky took the spot next to you on the floor, close enough for you to feel his familiar body heat. “You don’t have to be sorry-”

“Yes, I do- I fucked up. I chose him.” You dried your tears with the sleeve of the sweatshirt Bucky held onto just for you. “He gave me an ultimatum and I- I chose wrong.”

Bucky took your hand in one of his but didn’t speak. He simply let you ride out your latest wave of guilt and grief. He swiped this thumb over your knuckles every now and then, keeping you grounded. And when you finally caught your breath, he spoke.

“I don’t think… I don’t think it was ever about you choosing between dating Alex or being friends with me,” he said. “You needed to choose yourself. To choose what was best for you, what would make you happy. And at the time,” Bucky shrugged, “you thought being with him was for the best. So that’s what you did. I can’t fault you for that-”

You scoffed. It came out ugly, bitter, full of the disdain and contempt you held for yourself. “But I knew who he was. Even then.”

Bucky shrugged, “they call ‘em rose colored glasses for a reason-”

“Stop!” Your voice violently bounced off the walls of the small laundry room. “Stop making excuses for me- I want you to be mad at me!” Desperation clawed at your throat. You ripped your hand from Bucky’s, too overwhelmed by the kindness you didn’t deserve. “Be mad at me for abandoning you when I said I never would- be mad at me for being a horrible friend! Be mad at me for being stupid- and selfish!” Your balled up fists landed blows to your legs, your chest. If Bucky wasn’t going to berate you, the least you could do was deliver to yourself a fraction of the pain you deserved.

But two hands- one warm, one cold- wrapped gently around your wrists, stopping the abuse. You locked eyes with Bucky, tears blurring your vision. He’d never seen a look of such intense desperation.

“Just- be mad at me…” you stared at him, pleading. “Please.”

Bucky shook his head, “No.”

“Please… be mad at me. Yell at me. Do something.”

Bucky couldn’t help but think back on the old days. How many times had the two of you sat on the floor of this apartment? How many times had you helped Bucky off the literal and metaphorical ledge when his anxieties grew too strong? How many times had you exorcised the demons Hydra saddled him with? How many times had he tried to punish or hurt himself? And how many times had you stopped him?

Now, it was Bucky’s turn to do the same for you. “I was mad. Does that make you feel better?” He shot you a wink; it pulled the smallest of smiles from deep within you.

He intertwined his fingers with yours, anchoring you to reality, to him. “But I wasn’t mad at you. I was just mad because- because I met you so late in life, you know? And I barely got any time with you. It wasn’t enough for me.” His voice grew thick with longing. He spent so any nights thinking about you, losing sleep over how much he missed you. He often wondered if you missed him, too. Wondered if you thought of him when you took the train or went to the market. Wondered if you ever walked down his street, just because.

“But I was never mad at you. I’ve never been mad at you for pursuing the things with Alex. Or for going along with his ultimatum. I didn’t like it- I didn’t think that it was fair to you, but…” he shrugged. “I wanted- want- you to be happy.”

“But I left you-”

“I’ve lived a long life,” Bucky said. “Too long.”

You squeezed his hand, “I wouldn’t say that- I wouldn’t say ‘too long.’”

You always knew how to make Bucky laugh. “What I mean is… I’m living years that aren’t mine. I was never supposed to have this much time. But these years are meant for you. This is your life. And you’re entitled to go after the things you want.”

“But-”

“No. No ‘but’.” It wasn’t a reprimand, but a reminder. “What kind of friend would I be if I got mad at you for pursuing a relationship with someone you loved?”

“But I didn’t just pursue that relationship-” a harsh flashback of the day you left ripped you apart from the inside out. You remembered refusing Bucky’s invitation inside. Handing him the key he had made for you. You remembered biting back tears as you told him of Alex’s ultimatum, and your subsequent decision to go along with it. You remembered the look of utter heartbreak on Bucky’s face. He was gutted. Torn apart. Seeing him so despondent nearly made you sick. “I cut you off. Completely.”

“I know. But…” he shrugged. “You deserve to go after the things you want. And you wanted him. And I- I just wanted you to be happy.”

A sharp huff left your chest, “But I could’ve been stronger. I should’ve- I should’ve handled things better.” These same words swarmed your mind like angry bees on a daily basis. So many would’ves and could’ves and should’ves launched themselves at you, illustrating everything you did wrong. “I mean, jesus christ, I’m an adult! He gave me an ultimatum- I didn’t have to go along with it. I chose to. I’m in the wrong just as much as he is-”

“Hey- no.” Bucky’s intensity caught you off guard. “Look, I hope I’m not speaking out of turn here, but he’s a manipulator. Everything you ever told me about him screamed ‘manipulative’.”

You nodded. “Yeah, but I let him manipulate me-”

Bucky shut you down, “No. No, that’s not how manipulation works. Sure, you chose to be in a relationship with him. But you didn’t choose to be treated like shit. I saw-” Bucky’s free hand scratched at the fabric of his jeans. “I saw the way he acted tonight- if he’s like that all the time, I don’t blame you for going along with his ultimatum.” He grimaced, “I’m sure the consequences would’ve been bad if you chose otherwise.”

Bucky’s level of understanding and empathy almost made you angry. How was he this kind? How could he grant you this much grace? You felt yourself nearly going mad. He sensed the eyeroll, could practically feel your rebuttal bubbling below the surface. And before you could throw another ‘but’ at him, he continued.

“You wanted to be with him. You thought- or hoped- that he was someone better. That’s not a crime. And I’m sure you wish you could go back in time and tell your past self not to get mixed up with him, but-”

“Yeah, but I-” you let loose a deep sigh. “I really just wish I could go back in time and tell past-me to stick with you. Always. To put you first.” A few more tears broke free from your lash line and rolled down your cheeks. “Cause you’re the person I care about most- you’ve always been then one who matters most to me. And I’m sorry I didn’t act like it. I’m sorry I didn’t make that obvious to you.”

“It’s all okay,” he nudged his shoulder with yours, “we’re okay.”

After a few deep breaths, you allowed your body to fall against his. Your head lay on his shoulder, your hands still intertwined. This was always how things were supposed to be: just you and Bucky against the world. No pain, no heartache, no ultimatums. Just trust. Kindness. Empathy.

“I’ve missed you every day,” your voice came out tight, barely audible as your tears made another appearance.

Bucky unwound his hand from yours and opted instead to wrap his arm around your shoulders. “I’ve missed you too.”

“I regretted it, you know?” You lifted your head and looked him in the eye with intense urgency, “I regretted it instantly- I knew I shouldn’t have chosen him.”

He gave a simple shrug, “But it’s okay that you did.”

It was going to take some time for you to accept that Bucky didn’t hold a grudge. That he didn’t fault you. And that journey started there, on the floor of Bucky’s laundry room, with your body resting against his.

“I’m glad that… I’m glad I didn’t wait any longer to come back here.” You nestled closer to him, desperate to make up for lost time. “I’m glad it wasn’t too late.”

He stared down at you, confused. “Too late for what?”

“Well, I’m sure you would’ve written me off after a certain point, you know? If I was gone for… five years, or something.” Just the thought of being away from Bucky that long made you miserable. “If I showed up here after all that time, it would’ve been too late for you to forgive me.”

Bucky shook his head, “First of all, you don’t need to be forgiven- you didn’t do anything wrong.” He hated the way you blamed yourself and dismissed your own difficulties over the last year. And he knew you too well to be able to ignore the heartbreak in your eyes, the pain behind your voice. You suffered in your relationship with Alex. He cut you off from your best friend, isolated you, sabotaged your self-esteem. You were a victim, even if you refused to believe it.

“Second of all- and this is important-” Bucky turned to face you dead on, and pressed his forehead to yours. “There is no ‘too late’ with us, doll. Ever.”

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puranami · 7 months

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✿ It's The Little Things - 3 ✿

A/N: @leafyturtle come get y'all Franky and Robin fluff! I'm excited for this one, lotsa faves in here >:3c

Summary: Little relationship things with (currently) anime/manga exclusives ✿

Characters: Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer

Content: SFW, G/N reader, language in Kid's (bc it's Kid lol) bottomless fluff ✿

(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 2 - Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante, Doflamingo)

Franky

✿ Multiply his self-aggrandizing by 100, and that's how he sees you; he is your personal hype man! Every single insecurity, no matter how big or small, will be kissed away, because you are perfect, and you should definitely tell people as such. Wait, you're too shy and don't want to? No worries, Franky's got you, and he'll tell everyone himself. Loudly. No, he won't stop or tone it down; "The world needs to know how super you are!" He loves when you hype him up in turn, and uses it to show you how great self confidence is; and it will rub off on you. He's so proud when you declare how amazing you are, even if it's just to him! "AOW! That's right, babe, you are amazing!" He'll pick you up in those huge, strong arms of his, practically crushing you in a bear hug.

✿ Franky loves to make you any and all gadgets he thinks you'd like, or need. Just as he is constantly upgrading his body, he develops and re-develops things that make your life easier, or that bit cooler! While he likes to surprise you with them, seeing how your eyes light up in wonder as he shows you how it works, he loves it even more when you're involved in the building process; brainstorming ideas, designing, picking out the colour palette, he'll even let you use a blowtorch, just, please be careful, wait what was that twinkle of mischief in your eyes? Okay, no more blowtorch - leave it to the pro! It would kill him if you got hurt on his watch, he's meant to protect you!

✿ He's made up a comfy little alcove in his workshop so you can keep him company while he's working. Soft cushions, blankets, lights so can work on your own hobbies, it's perfect! Even when you were just friends, you were always welcome there, and it's become your little safe space. It's comfy enough to fall asleep there when Franky works late, and he even modified it so that there is room for him to sleep there too. While hanging out, you'll talk about everything, and nothing, what you're both working on, or you'll simply listen to music and enjoy each others presence, and that often leads to loud singing, especially on Franky's part. He'll share his cola with you too, you just bring the snacks - can't work on an empty stomach after all!

Robin

✿ Robin is very calm and reserved, especially compared to the rest of the crew, so her way of showing affection follows the same pattern. She'll put a gentle hand on your arm, and touch your foreheads together, but her favourite thing to do is to grow an arm out of your own, reaching down to hold your hand, all while on the other side of the room, smiling to herself. If your eyes are sharp, you'll catch the delicate blush on her cheeks when you bring your arm up to kiss her hand, or gently hold it to your cheek. She'll also make a pair of arms to wrap around your waist, or shoulders if you're sat down. She'll hold you personally too, but that is saved for your private quarters or the library.

✿ Part of her flirting is making dark comments and jokes; "I know the best way to your heart, dear." - "Through my stomach?" - "Oh no, that's not very efficient! It's anywhere between the 2nd and 4th ribs." She'll say it with such a loving gaze and gentle smile, and if you didn't know Robin better, you'd be worried she was plotting your murder, but that's just how she is, and you love her for it. She will also tell you all the gruesome details she finds in her books and research. Part of you suspects that she's purposefully trying to spook you so she can comfort you, but really she just finds these thing fascinating. Robin will be ecstatic if you can match her gallows humour, or if you have morbid facts of your own you can share with her.

✿ She takes great comfort in the fact that you love her unconditionally, and that you have always accepted her as she is, morbid interests, and former associations included, and she makes sure that you know she loves you all the same, no matter your quirks, flaws, and mistakes, for that is the beauty of love! You are each others port in the unrelenting storm of life.

Law

✿ Law is so used to losing the people he loves most, so for him to open up, it will take a lot of time, patience, and understanding. You can't push him on things, and will have to wait for him to come to you - he needs to feel like he has some control over the situation so he can make better judgement calls, and do something if it all goes wrong. It's nothing personal, he just doesn't want to helplessly watch his world fall apart again; he's older, smarter, and much stronger now, he will keep those he cares about safe. Once he's at that point where he feels like he's ready to be open and honest, he is completely dedicated and doggedly loyal, though he isn't very expressive with it.

✿ He shows his love through acts of service; making sure you are eating and sleeping well, tending any injuries you get in day to day life, moving you if you've fallen asleep in a weird place or position so you don't get any aches and pains, or catch a cold. Law hopes that you can feel the love he has for you in each action. He just wants to know you are healthy and well so he doesn't need to worry about you. Well, he says that, but he still worries, he can't help it. You'll need to use his own tactics against him to make sure he actually sleeps and eats instead of just working. It won't always work, sometimes he's working on things that are far too important, but he will relent otherwise.

✿ PDA is not a thing for him. At all. It's almost like he doesn't want to jinx things with the world seeing he has entrusted his heart with another again. On the Polar Tang, when it's just you and the crew, he'll be a little more open, placing a hand on your head or shoulder, matching your pace as he walks beside you, slightly gentler eyes, and the hint of a smile; so subtle, yet the crew sees right through him, and they like to tease you both. Nothing serious, but it still gets them the worst chores in response. In private, when you are alone is the only time will he allow himself to be vulnerable.

Kid

✿ Given how intense and aggressive he is, you have the patience of a goddamn saint, and guts to back you up. He refuses to lessen himself for anyone; he is who he is, and you can either accept it and embrace him fully, or you can, in his words, "Fuck right off!" It will take a lot to break through the immense barriers he has - he will shout, argue, insult, and to get through, you have to be able to withstand that without crumbling. Shout back! Show him you're not gonna let anyone walk all over you, not even him, earn his respect, then you can build up from there. Once you've wormed your way into that exclusive club of 'We aren't Killer, but Kid still cares about us," he will be ride or die with you, and when he realises he genuinely likes you, or hell, even loves you, he would burn down the world for you if you asked him to.

✿ Out in public, you get no special treatment. It's just safer that way. He can't afford to be looking over his shoulder every other minute to make sure no one is trying to get to him through you. He'll still keep an eye on you of course, but it's indistinguishable from him watching over the rest of the crew. On the Victoria Punk he will be possessive, but not affectionate. Kid will keep you by his side, or drag you onto his lap, just generally manhandling you really, there will be no mistaking who you belong to. Once you're alone he will actually soften up; he knows he's a lot, and he cares deep down, but he's still in charge, he is your captain after all. You should take advantage of this time to get all the affection out of him that you can!

✿ You're one of the few that are actually allowed to hang in his workshop, as long as you don't bother him. He'll entertain some conversation if he's just setting up, or having a break, but once he's in the zone, zip it. He's fine with you watching him work - he's good at what he does and he knows it, but seeing the admiration in your eyes is a nice ego boost. He'll make you things if the mood hits him, particularly bits of jewellery, as it makes it easier to manhandle you from the other side of the room. He's a busy man, he doesn't want to wait for you to look his way and walk over, he wants your attention now!

Killer

✿ Like Kid, Killer has a tendency to manhandle, but it's not nearly as aggressive; he's a big guy with big, strong muscles, and he just enjoys hauling you around like a sack of potatoes. It gives him the opportunity to hold you close, 'accidentally' touch your butt, and your laughter through it all is just so sweet. He greatly enjoys your presence when he's going about his day, and deeply appreciates any assistance you can offer, such as in the kitchen, and certainly when trying to manage his idiot best friend and crew, as he's essentially the de facto caretaker on board. Often you'll end up sat on his shoulders, acting as an extra pair of eyes and hands - no shenanigans go unnoticed!

✿ You have become an expert at reading Killer's moods and expressions through his mask, every slight shift of his body, and the angle of his head has a very specific meaning. It doesn't help that he's a quiet man in general; balancing Kid's incessant ranting and raving with his well thought out, straight to the point statements. He much prefers to listen to you talk, only talking when he has something to add to the mostly one-sided conversation. He loves having these 'chats' with you sat in his lap, head resting against his broad chest. Sometimes his goatee will tickle the top of your head, and he lives for those giggles.

✿ It will take a long time for him to feel comfortable enough to remove his mask, and you can bet he refuses to laugh around you for the longest time. Just be patient with him, and let him do things when he's ready, and don't make a big deal out of it if something slips; he'll be pretty mortified, so just giving him a loving smile and a gentle touch will reassure him that maybe the things he's insecure about, or straight up hates, aren't as big an issue as he believes them to be. Telling him he is perfect is appreciated, but not effective in building him up, since nothing is perfect really, but seeing you love him unconditionally certainly will give him a boost.

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