#everythings going wrong in such tiny ways

[crowsofdarkness]

Truth: One Shot

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 8,799

Content Warnings: language, angst, tiny bit of violence, mentions of death, mentions of drunk driving, alcoholism, and implied smut.

Summary: A next door neighbor bound with secrets; one of which nearly breaks you from the inside out.

-originally posted on my old blog-

I walked up the last few steps towards my apartment, the long and emotional day finally catching up to me. The three hour drive turned into a six hour and with half of my day gone, the thought of climbing into bed brought a soft smile to my lips. The amount of people I had to plaster a fake smile for mentally drained me so I was thankful I didn’t have to see anyone for the next 12 hours until someone undoubtedly face-timed me to check in. 

Grief wasn’t something I expected to deal with overnight and the support was nice when needed. But it had been years since that night, I was at the point in my life where I was ready to finally move on and accept it, even if his family continued to check in every day. 

Whatever joy I felt about being able to quickly slip inside and into my bed left my body when I noticed two guys hanging around the apartment door across from mine, chatting amongst themselves. Internally I groaned when I knew that I wasn’t going to go unnoticed by them. Almost every day one of them would ask for my number or ask to come inside. It never got physical and they accepted no the first time. 

It still bothered me that they tried every day. 

“Hey baby, why the long face?” One of the guys asked. 

Not wanting to deal with any of them today, I ignored them and reached my door in a quick flash, ready to get this interaction over with. However the other guy had stepped in front of me to block me from entering my apartment. 

Unbeknownst to them, I had gripped my car key in between my fingers; to be safe. 

“Please move. I’m not in the mood tonight.” I threatened. 

He licked his lips. “Come on. One night with us will change your mood. I guarantee it.” 

I sliced my eyes into him. “Move. Now.” 

He didn’t budge and the other guy was now lurking behind me. My heart hammered in my chest, not knowing what was to come. The key could only do so much damage with the two of them. 

“Everything alright?” 

I looked over my shoulder and let out a long breath of relief when I saw my next door neighbor leaning against his doorway, concern etched on his face.

“Doesn’t concern you.” The guy behind me said while not taking his eyes off of the back of my head. 

“I think it does,” my neighbor said. 

The guy that was blocking my path inside didn't bother to see who my neighbor was before he spoke up. 

“Man, get back inside. She's fine!”

“She doesn’t look fine.” 

The same guy grabbed my hand, ignoring my neighbor, and led me towards my door giving an extra hard push. 

“Tell him babe, you’re with us.” 

I haven't officially met my neighbor, only seeing him in passing, so I hoped he understood the look of despair I gazed his way. If that didn’t catch on, the way I mouthed ‘help’ should have. 

Before I could register what had happened, my neighbor had the guy behind me on the floor clutching his stomach and the guy in front of me pinned up on the wall, gloved fingers around his throat. By the look of fear in their eyes, it was clear that they finally realized who saved me. 

“I don’t want to see you lurking around here or bothering her again, understand?” 

They guys were out of sight in seconds, not wanting to get on the wrong side of my neighbor again. 

“You alright?” He asked while giving me a quick once over with his intense eyes. 

I nodded, my heart calming down. “Yeah, thank you for that. They always hang around but never got that close before.” 

My neighbor nodded. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” 

He went to walk back into his apartment but my quiet voice stopped him. 

“Thank you again, Mr. Barnes.” 

He turned to face me once again. “You can call me Bucky. I’m around anytime if you need something.” 

We shared a small smile before slipping into our own apartments. 

The quiet solace of my apartment was everything I needed after the absolute hell of a morning I had. I never meant to raise my voice at her, she was hurting too, but she was asking questions that I didn’t even know the answer to. 

“I never said I don’t miss him, Barb. It’s just been so long that I can’t keep dwelling on the what if’s.” 

“How can you say that? Don’t you want to know what happened to him?” 

“Of course I do! But there’s no leads; no answers. I don’t know what else you want from me.” 

“He’s my son, Y/N. I will find out what happened to him whether you want me to or not!”

“He was my husband, Barb! I don’t have any fucking answers on how he died because I don’t know how he died! The cops don’t even know. So stop thinking I’m hiding something from you.” 

My mother in law meant well but she was tired of not having answers to what happened; we all were. But none of us were accusing each other of hiding something. 

I let out a deep, aggravated sigh, while I pinched my eyes shut, hoping it would help the headache that was slamming behind my eyes. My body molded into the couch, hoping that it would ease away the worries I felt. The darkness I saw behind my eyes began to fill with memories that night, hours before he died, and my veins filled with regret knowing that I was the reason he was dead. I kicked him out that night, told him not to come back unless he kicked his habit. 

Alcohol consumed his life and it wasn’t something I could deal with anymore. 

The constant fights because of him staying out all night at the bars or showing up to important things drunk as hell. 

Maybe if I let him stay, he would still be alive. 

I quickly shook those thoughts out of my mind, knowing that even if I did keep him home that night, one way or another he would have still wrapped his car around a tree. 

The only answers the cops could give me was that they believed he was driving drunk. I believed them because I knew the kind of man he was; as much as he loved me, he loved the booze a bit more. 

His mother never wanted to believe that her “precious son” could have those demons so when I told her what happened, she didn’t believe me. 

My phone’s alarm went off with the message laundry and I remembered that I had been working on my laundry when Barb called. 

Making sure my phone and keys were in my pocket, I let my door close behind me as I walked down the long hallway and hung a left, the communal laundry room coming in sight. 

I always chose to do my laundry in the middle of the night because everyone else in the building was asleep so I didn’t have to worry about someone hogging all of the machines. 

So to say I was surprised when I saw someone else in the laundry room was an understatement; mostly because Bucky had his back to me, folding away. I only knew it was him because of the metal fingers that worked to fold a shirt of his. 

“Here I thought I was the only one who did laundry at 3 am,” I smirked while walking past him. 

Bucky gave me his own. “I usually don’t but couldn’t sleep so I figured I might as well get a couple loads done.” 

Realizing that my clothes weren’t quite dry yet, I set them for another cycle before giving Bucky my attention once again. 

“Did I have my t.v to loud? I only moved in six months ago and sometimes forget that these walls are paper thin.” 

He quickly shook his head when he noticed the sorrowful frown pulling my lips. 

“Not at all. Just couldn’t sleep,” Bucky shrugged. 

 There were rumors around the complex of him, some that I opted to pay no mind too but there was one that I did believe; his nightmares. 

The walls were incredibly thin and you can hear a conversation from the person on the other side of the wall. Which meant I had heard Bucky have nightmares once or twice. Given who he was and what he used to do, I couldn’t blame him for having them. 

For a brief moment, our eyes locked and the fire I felt burning in the pits of my stomach with how intense his gaze made me bite the inside of my cheek. I had only seen him in quick passes so never got the chance to actually look at him. His blue eyes were dark, filled with exhaustion, but somehow still shone bright. His stubble that covered the lower half of his face was filled with a few gray hairs, and the long hair that he had when I saw him a few nights ago was gone. 

My mouth fell open. “How did I just notice you cut your hair?” 

Bucky smiled. “Needed something different.” 

“Well you look good. I mean it looks good. Not that you don’t look good, you do but your hair looks good too.”

Words spewed out like vomit before I had the chance to stop it. I felt my cheeks burning in embarrassment. It had been so long since I attempted to flirt with someone and the first chance I had, I blew it. 

“I’m just going to glue my lips shut now before I embarrass myself even more.” 

Bucky chuckled while lifting his basket with ease, metal arm twinkling in the overhead light. Some of the other rumors that went around the complex was that people were afraid of him because of his arm. But I always found myself intrigued with it. 

Black with gold lines twisting and turning all around his arm. I wanted to trace it with the tips of my fingers. 

“If you glued them shut then we wouldn’t be able to keep talking,” Bucky said. 

“I’m sure there are other people around here that will be glad to talk to you without embarrassing themselves.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t like talking to them as much.” 

My brow peaked at his comment. “Are you saying you like talking to me?” 

He gave me a wink before walking out of the room while calling over his shoulder. 

“You look good too by the way.” 

The previous heat I felt down below intensified and had to swallow the moan that came crawling out of my throat. This was the second interaction we shared that lasted more than a few seconds and slowly he began taking over my mind where I found myself thinking of what he was doing and how badly I wanted to talk to him or see him. 

“God, I need a bath and a large milkshake,” I groaned to myself as I reached the last step of the floor to my apartment. 

My eight hour shift that started at six this morning became a fifteen hour shift and now that it was reaching close to nine in the evening, I never craved sleep more than I did right now. 

As my door came into view, I quickly noticed that Bucky’s door was open and he was hanging around it, a few people with him. They were chatting amongst themselves and clearly having a good time so I decided not to impose. My head was down as I searched my purse for my keys, trying to go unnoticed. 

“Long day?” 

Bucky stepped away from his group of friends and leaned against my door frame. 

I nodded. “My boss asked me to stay a few extra hours; I couldn't say no.” 

“So I’d assume you’re too tired for a drink?” Bucky asked while stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve got the late shift tomorrow so I want to take advantage of the extra sleep.” I apologized. 

He waved me off, saying he understood. 

“Plus, I wouldn’t want to impose on your friends.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Bucky shook his head. “But if you change your mind, the offer still stands. 

I nodded a quick thanks before I watched him walk back into his apartment, the skinny brunette girl attached to his arm. A twinge of jealousy stirred in my stomach and I let out a gruff groan, knowing that it was ridiculous of me to feel jealous. 

The rest of the night passed with nothing exciting, that was until I had decided to finally go to sleep, only to be kept awake by nightmares of that night. Flashing red and blue lights, his car wrapped around the tree, his body hanging out of the driver's side door with blood pooling from his head, and the sirens being drowned out by my screams. 

I awoke with a scream, it echoed throughout my apartment, and my chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. It had been so long since I had dreamed of that night but it was still as raw as that night. 

Once I had calmed down, I finally could hear what was coming from the wall behind me. The headboard banging against the wall in the apartment next door only getting drowned out by the moaning of what could only be described as ecstasy. 

But as soon as I heard it, it ceased being replaced by hushed voices. 

“Did you hear that?” 

“Why’d you stop? I was so close.” 

“I think the scream came from Y/N’s place.” 

“Bucky, come on. I’m only in town for tonight. Don’t waste it on someone else. I’m sure that person is fine.”

Damn these thin walls. 

With a quick jump from my bed, I tossed on a sweater and sweatpants before climbing onto my balcony through my large bedroom window, allowing the fall night air to calm my racing thoughts. I don't know who I thought was on the other side of the wall, clearly that was Bucky’s room and there was a brunette clinging to him when they walked back into his apartment. 

It still stung to see someone else with him. 

Why does it matter to you? You’re not even on his radar. 

I shook the thought from my mind and looked up into the sky, hoping to see some stars. Why I ever moved to New York, I never understood. With the noise and lights, trying to look up to the night sky for some peace was inevitable. 

Tears fell and I ghastly wiped them away as I thought back to my nightmare, visions of him lying there in death, all alone. Soft sobs fell from my lips and shoulders shook with despair and hatred that I allowed him to leave that night. 

“Everything alright?” 

I slightly jumped at the voice and saw Bucky leaning against the shared railings of our balcony, a beer bottle loosely hanging between his fingers. 

“Yeah,” I nodded while avoiding his gaze. 

Thankfully it was dark out here so he wasn’t able to see my tear stained cheek. Between the nightmares and hearing Bucky having sex with someone else, I was a wreck. 

I wasn’t sure why the thought or image of him with someone else bothered me so much. This feeling was unknown, something I hadn’t felt in so long; since before my husband. Maybe that’s why I felt like this, guilty for it being because of another guy. 

You fancy him, dumbass. 

Blinking away the thought, I leaned deeper into the chair and closed my eyes, enjoying the breeze. 

“Anything I can help with?” Bucky questioned. 

“I don’t want to keep you from your company.” 

He quickly shook his head. “You’re not.” 

“I’m fine, Bucky. I just couldn’t sleep,” I kept my eyes trained on the chipped away  nail polish on my fingers. 

The curtness in my voice didn’t go unnoticed by him. “I heard a scream-.” 

“Bucky, there you are! What are you doing out here, it’s freezing!” 

Both of our eyes landed on the woman that had slinked her way next to Bucky, a hand on his back and a soft kiss to his cheek. 

My heart fell deep into my stomach and I let out a shaky breath to try and compose myself. I didn’t want to cry again, not in front of them. 

“I’ll be there in a minute. I’m talking with Y/N,” Bucky nodded towards me. 

I shook my head while standing to my feet. “I was actually about to head to bed. See you around.” 

“Perfect, let's go Bucky.” 

The brunette linked fingers with him, purposely avoiding his metal hand, and tried to drag him inside. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Bucky wondered. 

I nodded, trying to hold the tears back but Bucky could see right through my facade and told the brunette he would meet her inside. Reluctantly she nodded and soon it was the two of us again. 

“She seems nice,” I motioned towards where she was previously standing. “Sounds like you two had a good night.” 

Bucky’s face fell when he realized what I was talking about. “You heard?” 

“Thin walls.” 

He cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, we’re usually more quiet.” 

“Oh, so this isn’t a one time thing?” I wondered. 

“Does it matter?” He asked. 

But then the confusion was replaced with humor, a sly smirk pulling at his lips. His elbows leaned against the railing, his face coming closer to me. We were so close now I was afraid he could tell that I had been crying so I kept my gaze trained hard to the floor beneath my feet. 

A cool metal finger lifted my chin and I sucked in a breath when I drank in his gaze, so powerful and moving. 

“Are you jealous?” 

My lips parted, unsure of how to answer mostly because I didn’t even know if that’s what I was feeling. But I did recognize one feeling and was coursing through me; comfort. 

It was a simple action, his finger lifting my chin, but that had been the first contact I’ve felt in so long that it almost over took me, the tears pooling at the corner of my eyes. 

“No,” I finally answered. 

Bucky snorted, not believing me. Whatever witty comment he had was gone when tears fell from my eyes, concern clouding his gaze. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His hands now cupped my face. 

I shook my head in his grasp. “I’m fine.” 

“Y/N,” he urged. “You can talk to me.” 

My eyes refused to meet him, knowing that if they locked, I would melt into him and tell him everything. He didn’t need that, though. He could have been dealing still with his own trauma, I wasn’t going to pour mine on top of it. I had been dealing with it on my own for so long, I could continue too.  

I breathed, feeling his pinkies gently trace circles in the back of my head getting tangled in my hair. The slight action caused a quiet moan to fall from my lips. 

Not a sexual moan but a need for more affection. 

Bucky seemed to have understood so with his metal fingers he ran them fully through my hair and begged me with soft whispers to look at him. 

I obliged. 

His blue eyes bore down at me and with his touch, I felt myself crumble into him, my hands slowly grazing up his chest to his shoulders. I was ready to let it all go, let him in. 

Until her voice sounded behind us once again. 

“What the hell?” 

Bucky turned to look at the brunette, ready to explain himself but before he had the chance, I slipped out of grasp with fresh tears falling. 

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. 

His pleas to come back meant nothing as I slipped back inside, shutting the window behind me. 

The buzzing from my phone on my end table meant nothing as I turned my back to it, adjusting a new position on my bed. With my blankets pulled up to my chin, another broken sob fell as the water from my eyes continued to stain my pillow case. 

I knew who was blowing up my phone, I didn’t need to check. 

Bucky had found my number from the apartment phone book the other day and he had been trying to get into contact with me to see how I was doing. 

It had been almost a week since that night on my balcony and I had done everything I could to avoid him. Not sure why I felt I needed too, he only was trying to help. 

Truth be told, the memories of my husband and his accident had caused me to go into a dark place, not wanting to leave my apartment let alone my bed. Since I moved to New York, I was alone, no one to share in my grief with which is why whenever a wave crashed over me, I fucking drowned in it. 

When the buzzing phone finally ceased, I breathed a sigh of relief and forced my eyes to shut in hopes of letting the dark slumber take it. 

Three persistent knocks to my window caused my eyes to spring open and when I saw Bucky sitting on the other side, I groaned. 

“Leave me alone!” I yelled, fully engulfing myself in my blankets now. 

The sound of the window opening and a large body all but crashing inside made me sit up in bed, brow perked in confusion. Bucky was standing in my bedroom now with a concerned gaze. 

“You know for a former assassin, you’re not that quiet when breaking into someone’s apartment,” I stated. 

He shrugged. “I thought about knocking on your door but figured you wouldn’t answer.” 

I nodded. “You thought right. Feel free to leave that way though.”

My back was turned to him as I laid down in bed again, pulling the blanket to my chin. Bucky didn’t need to say anything, his warm presence was still felt behind me. I let out an annoyed groan before turning to face him again and it was then that I took in appearance for the first time. Gray sweatpants and a tight black shirt that hugged every inch of his chest and torso. His metal arm twinkled under the soft glow from the lamp in the corner of my room. 

Even in somewhat darkness, he looked breathtaking. 

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” I questioned. 

When he shook his head, I reluctantly sat up and motioned for him to sit; he hesitated. 

“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be inviting you in my bed right now,” I stated. 

Realizing I had a point, he finally relaxed and sat on the edge of my bed. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” 

“You didn’t,” I reassured him with a small smile. “I’ve been dealing with some things lately, that’s all.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky suggested. 

I gnawed on my bottom lip, debating whether or not it was a good idea to talk to him about my problems. I didn’t want him to think less of me because of them. 

You know he wouldn’t. 

“I don’t want to keep you,” I began. “Especially if you’ve got company.” 

Bucky immediately shook his head. “That’s over, I promise. You’re the only one that has my attention.” 

My heart soared with his words and the redness that crept from my cheeks to the tips of my ears didn’t go unnoticed by him. I let out a deep breath to gain whatever courage I could and wondered where to start. 

“I, uh, was married.” 

Bucky’s body tensed at my words so I gently laid a hand on his knee. “Was. Not anymore.” 

He relaxed with my touch. 

“My husband, Rick, died about eight years ago. Next month actually,” I admitted. 

His face fell. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’ve done my best to move on, try to create this new life without him. Which is why I moved here. I thought a fresh start would help.” 

“Why did you wait so long to leave?” Bucky asked. 

“My mother in law. We only had each other and I never found the right time to leave. But the grief and questions became too much to bear so I had to stop thinking about how she felt and start taking care of myself.” 

I almost didn't notice Bucky slip his flesh fingers between mine as I continued to tell my story. 

Almost. 

“She was so hell bent on finding the truth on what happened that her accusations pushed me away.” 

“With his death?” Bucky questioned. 

I let out a low sob. “Yeah. He-uh-he was driving drunk one night and crashed his car into a tree.”

My body shook with fresh tears as the memories began replaying like an old movie in the back of my mind, the wounds tearing open once again. 

Bucky had snuck up next to me, wrapping his arms around me to pull me into his chest. I seeped into him, allowing his soft words of comfort to ease my pain. 

“The images of him hanging out of his car haunt me to this day. I can't go to sleep without seeing him, bloody and cold,” I cried into his chest, hands grasping at his shirt. 

He didn’t say anything, he didn't have too. If anyone understood how I felt, it was Bucky. His large hand rubbed circles on my back while I continued to sob, finally letting go for the first time in so long. I didn’t realize how bad I needed someone to just listen to my problems and comfort me, not criticize how I feel or accuse me of keeping secrets about Rick’s death. 

“His mother blames me,” I muttered into Bucky’s chest. 

“Why?” 

I pulled slightly away from him and looked up into his eyes; they were clouded in sorrow. He cupped my cheek and with his metal thumb wiped the tears away, the coolness of it easing the redness caused by my cries. 

“I couldn’t deal with his drinking any longer. It was ruining our marriage so I told him that he  needed to leave and only come back when he was sober. Rick’s mom didn’t want to believe that he had those demons but he did. I held onto him for so long that I couldn’t take care of him any longer.” 

“He got so good at hiding when he was drunk that I had no idea he was that night. Maybe if I had known, he would still be-.” 

“Hey,” Bucky lifted my chin up to meet his gaze. “You cannot blame yourself for his actions, okay? None of what happened is your fault.” 

I wasn’t so sure if he was talking to me or more so himself. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that knew about The Winter Soldier's past that Bucky had so much trouble not blaming himself for what he did during that time. 

My head pounded from all the crying and I had nothing left in me, emotionally, so all I could do was nod in his grasp. 

“I’m here to help you with whatever you need to get past that guilt, alright?” 

I nodded again. “Thank you, Bucky.” 

He responded by pulling me into his chest once again, allowing me to ease into his comforting touch as he continued to run circles over my back. 

Time had passed, the two of us locked together with my sobs being replaced with constant yawn after yawn. 

Bucky began to pull away. “I’ll let you get some sleep.” 

I squeezed him a bit, not ready to let go. “Few more minutes? I haven't felt this kind of comfort in so long. It’s nice.” 

His lips brushed the top of my head and I melted into him again, my heart beating so hard against my chest I knew not only could he feel it, Bucky could hear it as well. 

“Take all the time you need, doll.” 

My heart fucking soared at the pet name. 

Our laughter bounced off the walls of the complex as Bucky and I both ascended up the staircase towards home. I had been on my way home from work when I bumped into him one block away, with a bouquet of fresh flowers grasped between his metal fingers. 

“You mentioned that you had a rough day at work so I thought these would make it better.” 

His words from when I questioned him about them brought a smile back to my face. 

Ever since that night last month where I told him about Rick, we had grown incredibly close. He was there for me when the nightmares got bad or I needed someone to talk to; with me also returning the favor. 

Even if he was in therapy to deal with his past, I was still by his side to lend an extra ear and a comforting hold. 

If anyone was to ask what we were, I would tell the truth; friends. 

That love to steal longing glances, the occasional flirty banter, and fingers lingering on one's skin longer than normal. 

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to get me flowers, Buck,” I reiterated my words from earlier. 

He shrugged as we turned the corner of the hallway, our apartments coming into view. 

“Anything to bring a beautiful smile to your face,” he mused while throwing an arm over my shoulder. . 

“Cheeky, aren’t you?” I giggled while patting his chest. 

My feet came to a halt when I saw the lone figure leaning against my door, arms crossed in what appeared to be one thing. 

Anger. 

“Barb, hi. What are you doing here?” I asked, confused. 

She shook her head. “Eight years. Today.” 

My heart dropped. Bucky had been such a good thing in my life lately that I had forgotten Rick’s death anniversary was today. 

“Oh.” I muttered. 

Barb scoffed. “That’s all you have to say? What would Rick have to say about this?”

She motioned towards Bucky who still had his arm around me so he quietly slipped away and tried to leave but I gently grasped his arm to stop him. 

“I can go. I’ll talk to you later,” he suggested. 

While I shook my head, Barb’s demeaning voice spoke again. 

“I think that’s a good idea. She doesn’t need you right now.” 

My eyes snapped over towards her. “Excuse me? What gives you the right to speak to him like that?” 

“Doll, it’s alright.” 

“Doll?!” Barb shrieked. “How long has this been going on? What would Rick think?” 

I shook my head in disbelief. “Nothing because he’s dead Barb. Has been for a long time.” 

“I cannot believe you’ve moved on already. He was your husband for god sakes! He loved you dearly and this is how you repay him? Fucking the first man that touched you.” 

Anger radiated off of me, Bucky noticing the way my breath became erratic so he gently laced our fingers together and nodded towards his door. 

“Come on, let’s get inside.” 

In our many talks I had mentioned a few times about how demeaning and cruel my mother in law could be but I put up with it for years because I was married to her son. The constant belittlement from her had knocked me down to my lowest and now that I was finally starting to feel better about everything thanks to his help, Bucky refused to let me get back to that low. 

I held him back with a shake of my head before giving Barb my attention. “I don’t know why you came here. Like I said on the phone last week, I still don’t have the answers you’re looking for, Barb. Whether you want to believe it or not, your son was an alcoholic and it was his actions that night that killed him. I know it’s not easy to hear but Rick is gone and your quest to find answers to questions that don’t exist isn't going to bring him back.” 

Barb shook her head, looking at me bewildered. “No. There’s a witness that was there that night. They said they saw someone in the road before RIck crashed. He swerved so he wouldn’t hit them. Not the lies you’ve been saying!” 

“I’m not lying about anything!” I snapped, mouth ready to spew hateful things towards her. 

Bucky squeezed my hand as if he could read my mind, knowing what I was about to say. 

I took a deep breath to calm myself, knowing that no matter what I said to her Barb would never change her mind. She could never see her son in such a negative light. 

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Barb. But I know that I can’t keep doing this with you; Rick wouldn’t want this. As much as we loved each other, he wanted me to move on. We talked about it all the time that if something happened to one of us that the other wouldn’t dwell on the heartbreak. He had demons, he tried to drown them with alcohol but they knew how to swim.” 

Tears pricked my eyes. “Rick would want me to be happy, to find love with someone else. He would want the same for you.” 

Without another word, I let Bucky lead me inside of his apartment, ready to finally leave Barb in my past. 

“Are you alright?” Bucky questioned once inside. 

I sat on his couch with a soft groan and nodded. “Yeah, it needed to be said. I hate that it took so long though.”

Bucky trekked around his apartment placing the flowers in a vase then grabbing a beer for him and a glass of water for me. I smiled a thanks as he sat next to me, his hand placed on my knee. “I’m sorry for what she said to you,” I frowned. 

He shrugged. “It's nothing you need to apologize for, doll.” 

With his flesh hand on my knee and the metal one lounged on the top of the couch, his fingers inches from my face, I began tracing the gold lines, mesmerized by the design. Before when I would look or touch it, Bucky would flinch because he was afraid of how I would react to it. 

“I don’t understand how you’re not afraid of it,” Bucky wondered. 

“The way I see it,” I began while linking our fingers together, “This arm was your fresh start. Your old one did all of those horrible things and this one has done so much good, you can’t let the weight of the old one hold you back.” 

A smile pulled wide on his face. “Who needs therapy when that advice is free.” 

I giggled with a wink. “Plus, I come with some extra perks.” 

Bucky smiled smugly with his eyes turning dark. “Care to explain what those perks are?

My lips went dry and I rolled my tongue over them, hoping it would help. The intense gaze I felt from Bucky was enough to lock me into place on his couch with my hands now in my lap clasped together in hopes they stopped shaking with nerves. 

They didn't. 

There was something between us, that wasn’t a question. But what exactly, I wasn’t too sure. We would flirt back and forth and have some small touches here and there but that’s all it was. Neither of us were brave enough to take the next step in this relationship. 

I gnawed on my bottom lip while staring in Bucky’s eyes and I noticed the way his breath caught in his throat, unable to move as I slowly, oh so agonizingly slow, closed the distance between us. Meters from his lips, I hesitated though, my warm breath fanning over his plump lips. This close I could see how pink and full they were, practically begging to be kissed; ravished.

Lips parted and ghosting over each other, I could feel the softness against mine and when I glanced up into his gaze I noticed Bucky’s pupils were blown with desire. 

Fuck it. 

I crashed my lips to his in a slow but firm kiss, testing to see if he wanted this as much as I did. Soon we began to meld together, his hands gripping my hips while mine found his broad shoulders, nails digging slightly. He hissed against my lips, the sensation burning low in my core when he repaid the favor by digging his own nails into the bare skin of my back. 

I nibbled on his bottom lip, begging to taste him, and his tongue slipped between my lips, exploring every inch of my mouth and I groaned when the heat expanded from my core all the way to my head, making me dizzy. 

Our breathing had become ragged with desire, wanting to feel every single inch of each other's bodies. Bucky’s flesh hand tangled in my hair while his metal hand lifted me with ease into his lap, sprawling his fingers over the plump of my ass. My own hands ran down his chest, down his stomach to ghost over the belt of his pants before they snaked underneath his shirt, the skin of his stomach hot with lust. 

“Bucky,” I moaned into his mouth when I felt his hips press into mine. 

The hardness of his cock pressed against the confines of his jeans and a low groan echoed into his mouth when he pressed up against my heated core again. 

Bucky’s lips left mine to start biting and nipping at the skin of my neck while I rutted slowly but firm into him. My hands gripped and pulled at his shirt, yanking it off of his head in a snap. I felt him tense under me as my eyes glazed over where the skin and metal of his arm met, the scars still looked fresh to this day. 

I left soft, pepper-like kisses over each scar, letting him know that it didn't bother me. 

“Bucky,” I breathed his name once again. “I need you.” 

He spewed a few curses into the crook of my neck before finally pulling away, locking our lust blown pupils together. “Are you sure about this?” 

I traced a finger down his cheek and scratched at the stubble on his face. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.” 

That was all he needed before tossing me over his shoulder, and carrying me to his bedroom. 

The coolness from his metal fingers felt almost orgasmic on hot skin as we laid next to each other in bed, in a post-climax haze. Bucky’s fingers traced my spine from the top to bottom, over and over again, and he would leave light feathery kisses where his fingers missed. 

It had been a couple weeks since our first kiss and we had been spending most of our time in his apartment since he had the bigger bed but tonight he surprised me by sneaking into my window while I was asleep, wrapping me in a warm embrace. 

“For an ex assassin, you’re still not that quiet,” I muttered into his warm chest. 

“I missed you,” he breathed into my hairline. 

We then proceeded to spend the next hour tangled in between one another. 

Our relationship had blossomed in those few days even if we had decided to take things slow, not needing to rush or put a label on it quite yet. Even though we both knew how we felt about one another. 

His soft lips left the skin of my back and found its new mark on my neck, Bucky continuing the mark he began earlier. 

“Bucky, I’m so tired,” I whined, playfully smacking him away. 

With a fake groan of annoyance, he pulled away not before leaving a kiss on my forehead. 

“I’m going to grab a glass of water then I’ll come back to bed.” 

The dark slumber was within my grasp, fingers dancing towards it, so all I could do was nod in response. The bed shifted with the sudden change in weight and I wrapped the blanket around me, allowing the darkness to fully engulf me but only to be yanked from it a short time later by the sound of glass breaking. 

“Babe, you alright?” 

Silence. 

“Bucky?” 

More silence. 

Pulling my brows together with confusion, I quickly dressed myself in Bucky’s shirt that he had worn over here and walked into the main living space of my apartment expecting to see Bucky cleaning up whatever broke. 

However, I only saw the broken glass from a cup and a picture face down on the ground next to my couch. 

“What the-?” I muttered while picking it up. 

My heart sank when I saw what picture it was; Rick and I on our wedding day. 

I mentally smacked myself because I thought I had taken down whatever was left of Rick in my apartment when Bucky and I started seeing each other. It wasn’t fair to him that I still had pictures or mementos of a past love up. 

“Fucking dumbass. No wonder why he left,” I cursed to myself. 

I scurried back into my room and reached for my phone, typing out a message. 

I’m sorry that you saw that picture. I thought I packed everything up. Can you come back so I can make it up to you?

A few minutes went by with no response so I sent another message. 

Or I can come over there if that’s alright. 

A few more minutes went by with no response from Bucky so with an aggravated groan, I tossed my phone onto my bed with myself falling close behind. 

“Way to fucking blow it, Y/N,” I grumbled while running my hands over my face. 

Two days. Two fucking days Bucky had been ignoring my texts, calls, and persistent knocks to his door. I had been a wave of different emotions the last two days; Anger, confusion, and hurt; mostly hurt. 

I never knew that Bucky had an issue about my past marriage since I talked about it openly with him so much and he helped me heal that part of mind and heart, moving on completely from it; with him. 

The time we spent together was some of the best parts of my life and I would be a fool to say that it meant nothing to me. Bucky had become an important person in my life and the mere thought of losing him forever weighed heavy on my heart. 

A heart that took so long to mend from past heartbreak and loss. A heart that took forever to find that perfect someone to pick up the pieces, make it feel whole; loved. 

I sat up in bed with a start, the blankets falling from my body, when I was slammed with the sudden realization; it hit me so hard I almost fell right back into my bed. 

I was in love with Bucky. 

And I wasn’t going to let him get away. 

Throwing whatever clothes on I could find, I was standing in front of Bucky’s door in less than a minute, knuckles rapidly knocking with no end in sight. 

“Bucky, can you please open the door?” I called through the thick piece of wood. “I really need to talk to you.” 

More knocking followed by more begging. 

“I’m not going anywhere until you let me inside,” I informed him with crossed arms and all of my weight perched on my left foot. 

“Do I have to pull some ex assassin bullshit and sneak in through your window?” 

The door in front of me opened revealing a very tired looking Bucky and I cringed when I remembered that it was almost four a.m. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize what time it was.” I apologized. 

Bucky simply nodded. “It’s alright.” 

He went to shut the door again but I blocked it with an angry hand. “You’re not going to shut me out again. For two fucking days you’ve been ignoring me with no explanation.” 

“Y/N, please-.” 

“No!” I shot. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you but I don’t deserve to be shut out like this especially after everything we’ve gone through and the things I’ve told you.”

Bucky ran a hand over the subtle on his cheek before nodding, allowing the door to open a bit more with me slipping inside before he could change his mind. I was in such a rush to tell him how I felt that I hadn’t noticed his sleeping attire; a pair of very tight black briefs and his hair was a tousled mess of slumber. 

As breathtaking as he looked, Bucky needed to know how I felt. 

“Did I do something wrong? I know you found that picture of Rick and I.” 

He was quick to dismay my worry. “It wasn’t about the picture.” 

My shoulders raised with confusion. “Then what is bothering you? Is it me, are you over us?” 

“No, doll, trust me.” He hesitated to reach for me. 

“Then tell me why the fuck you’ve been avoiding me?!” I snapped, voice raised in anger. 

“I can’t,” Bucky shook his head, refusing. 

“You’re kidding, right?” I scoffed. 

He was in fact not kidding with the stern face he bore. 

“God, I’m so stupid!” I covered my face with my hands. “I let myself open up to you, let you in my life when I needed someone the most, trusted you with my heart and you ripped it away from me. Right when I started to fall in love with you.” 

Bucky blinked. “Wh-what did you say?” 

Tears pricked my eyes. “I love you, Bucky.” 

“Doll,” he breathed, unsure of what to say next. 

“You don’t feel the same,” I nodded to myself, realizing what his silence meant. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

Hasty wiping away the tears, I stormed past him only to be stopped by his metal fingers grasping at my wrist, pulling me into his chest. His lips crashed onto mine in a powerful kiss, tongues quickly finding each other in starvation for each others taste. 

We shared many kisses but this one was different; it was the kind that made you fall to your knees with dizziness. 

A good kind of dizzy. 

“I love you too,” he pressed into my lips. 

My heart jumped into my throat as his revelation. “Then why have you been ignoring me?” 

Bucky stepped back slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s something I need to tell you. I wish I would have told you sooner, it might have saved you.” 

“Save me from what?” 

“Falling in love with me,” he linked our fingers together and set me down on the couch. 

We sat with our knees touching and my heart was hammering so loud in my chest I knew Bucky could hear it. My mind raced a million miles a minute with different thoughts of what he had to tell me. 

“The reason why I left the other night was because when I saw that picture, memories came flooding back, almost over taking me,” Bucky began. 

“Memories? Of what?” I pressed. 

Bucky ran a hand through his hair in clear distress. “I know what happened to Rick.” 

I nodded. “Yeah because I told you. He was driving drunk.” 

He disagreed with me. “He wasn’t drunk that night.” 

I looked at him with confusion. “What are you talking about?” 

With one last deep breath, Bucky fully confessed to his past transgression. 

“Rick wasn’t drunk that night. He was sober and driving to meet with the head of the local Hydra group. I don’t know what Rick told you he did for work but whatever it was was a lie. Rick was hired by SHIELD to take back the super soldier serum I had stolen back in the 90’s.” 

My eyes blinked with disbelief. “You’re lying.” 

“I wish I was, doll. I knew who killed Rick.” 

“Who?” I asked, afraid of knowing the truth. 

Bucky hesitated, breath getting caught in his throat, before he spoke with broken words. “The Winter Soldier. And that was me.” 

His bottom lip trembled the same time his nose scrunched up his disgust for his previous actions. 

My whole world came crashing down from the heavens, falling into large pieces of debris around me. My heart was ringing in my ears that I swore I misheard Bucky. Everything I thought I knew about Rick’s death was a lie? Had Barb been right this whole time?

“No,” I stood to my feet with a start. “You’re fucking with me.” 

Bucky reached for my hand but I snatched it away, a look of hurt flashed across his face. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t have a choice,” his broken voice begged me to understand. 

I stopped pacing. “How’d you do it?” 

Bucky refused to answer, only standing to try and get me to stop moving. Anger spilled out of me and I pushed his shoulders to force him back onto the couch. 

“How did you do it?!” I seethed. 

His tongue rolled over his dry lips. “I got in the way of his car so he would have to swerve out of the way. When he crashed, I had to make it look like he was drinking so I injected him with alcohol so it looked like he had been drinking all night.” 

“No,” I sobbed. “This whole time I thought he was at a bar getting fucking wasted and was on his way home when he was actually sober!” 

Bucky flinched but kept his eyes trained at his shaking hands. 

“You fucking left him there to die!” I screamed. “You could have saved him!” 

Bucky was on his feet now, shaking his head rapidly. “It wasn’t me, doll. I swear.” 

“But you still did it!” 

I shoved his chest, hard, and he stumbled back a bit but kept his stance. 

“I wish I never did, Y/N. If I could take back everything I did when I was The Winter Soldier, I would; you know that,” he begged me to listen. 

Sobs plowed through my body causing me to shake and fall to my knees with the truth of what happened that night. The man that I found myself falling in love with had killed my husband. How do you get past that? 

But it wasn’t him. He had no choice.

I screamed at the voice in my mind, telling it to shut up. 

“Doll,” Bucky knelt down to reach for me. 

My fist collided with his cheek knocking him onto his ass and rage took over my vision as I straddled his hips, landing blow after blow to whatever part of flesh I could hit; face, head, neck, chest, stomach, and flesh arm. 

Bucky never stopped me, allowed me to hurt him; try to anyway. The super soldier serum that flowed through his blood every day made it so it felt like he was getting slapped by the wind. 

“Fuck you, Barnes! I hate you!,” I bellowed while going to attack his metal arm. 

In a swift movement, I was now being straddled by Bucky who had both of my hands pinned above my head with his metal fingers gripped tight. Tears fell from his eyes onto the skin of my neck and his chest rose and fell with deep breaths. 

“You don’t mean that.” 

I writhed in his grasp, trying to break free. “I do! You’re a monster, I hate you!” 

When the words left my lips, I immediately regretted them. I knew that he wasn’t a monster, I was only angry at his revelation. I never meant to call him that. Whatever anger I had spilled out of my body through the floor beneath me and I tried to break free once again from Bucky, to reach for him. 

“I didn’t mean it,” I cried. 

He nodded before pulling me into his chest, arms now wrapped around me. He hushed my cries with whispers of sorrow and promised to make it right; make everything right with me and us again. 

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” 

My hands clutched at the muscles of his back, my own words being muffled by his chest. 

How could anything be right with us again with me now knowing the truth? Nothing would ever be the same. 

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Teach a Bot to Kiss: Ratchet PT1

So this got deleted part way through writing so I used that as an excuse to try something. Also tumble made me post it in two parts. Enjoy~

The circumstances that brought you to the Lost Light were not ideal. No one, including you, talked about it. Ratchet seemed to think you were handling it surprisingly well. You didn't seem bothered. Quite happy. Maybe a little too happy. He's mention it to Rung next time they ran into each other.

The lost light was a big place to be if you were a tiny human. Lucky for you, Ratchet was willing to be your caretaker of sorts. He may be gruff and downright biting at times, but you could see that underlying care in him. No doubt it's what made him such a good doctor. Even you, he considered a potential patient. Luckily for you, he had some experience with humans and thus a previously saved bit of information on their medical needs. Today you were in the medical bay for one of his minor check ups. Keeping track of your vitals, seeing if anything made levels all wrong. Or if space travel was treating you wrong. Like usual, he did it at the end of the work day, when no one was in dire need of his attention. He just needed you to stand there and get scanned while he glanced at the numbers. "Well, looking fine as usual." "Why thank you." You say with a wink. Ratchet lets out a scoff and rolls his eyes. "You're hanging out with Rodimus too much." He writes something down on a data pad and sets it aside before shutting off the scanner and offering his palm to you. Using his thumb as a handle, you climb on so he can carry you off to his quarters. Ratchet waves to Ambulon as he passes by. It's the night hours, or at least the equivalent. The lights are turned down in the halls and most bots are in their quarters. Time for Ratchet, and thus you, to head to bed as well. "Hey Ratchet?" He unlocks his habsuite and grunts in acknowledgment, "You were on earth right?" "We've been over this many times y/n," He flips the lights and sets you on the shelf with your make shift bed. A collection of sponge and clean rags. Comfortable enough for you, "Yes I was on earth." He preferred not to talk about that time. The beginning of the end in a way. You flop onto the makeshift bed, even turned away, he can hear your mouth open, ready to ask a question. All a part of the nightly routine since he started caring for you. Asking any inane question that comes to mind while he readies for recharge. What he saw, who he met. Moving on to his past on cybertron. You always asked questions. Ratchet begrudgingly answered. You were trying to fill the silence. It couldn't be easy living on ship away from your home world and everything you knew. Sometimes these stupid questions led to interesting, dare he even think, inciteful conversation. Your voice was getting drowsy with sleep before asking about his love life. "When was the last time you kissed someone?" "Cybertronians don't kiss." "Prudes?" You perked up. "No, it just isn't a thing." He settles down on his berth, ready to offline. But you keep questioning. Ratchet can hear you shifting, eventually your soft steps coming to the edge of the shelf you're on. "Like… Just not popular?" He glances at you and sees you focused on him. This wasn't going to be one of those inciteful conversations, but clearly not one he could get out of. "No. We have many ways of showing affection, but that isn't one of them." Your pause makes him hopeful you will let it go and he can sleep. "But you know what kissing is?" Another heavy sigh, "I was on earth after all." "Well if you ever need the practice." You wiggle your brows and chuckle. Ratchet narrows his optics at you. Cheeky, as always. He flicks your forehead a little harder than he meant to. The THUNK of his digit and the way you stumbled back solidified that.

Part Two

[just-some-random-blogger]

GIRRLLLLLLLL AHAHHAHAH WTFFF 8S THISSSSS NAURRRRRRRRRRR MY HEART GO BOOM BOOM POWWWW

THERE WAS AN old northern superstition —more like an old wives’ tale, really— that said if there was snow on the wedding day, the marriage was doomed to be a cold one.

CRISTIIIIIII

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN WHY ARE YOU STARTING THIS FIC LIKE THIS THAGS SO GOOD ITS DO BEAUTIFUL HOW DO YOU EVEN THINK OF THESE THINGS WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKK 🫵WITCHHHHHH🫵

Cregan had hoped that if not a loving wife, he would get a caring mother to Rickon.

Honestly I hate that for her. And rickon. Poor boy. I mean found family be like.

He would like to say that the days went on the same way they did before he wed you, but it would be a lie. Winterfell ran much better now there was a lady present.

THAT PART 💥💥💥💥💥💥 WHAT THE FUCK DID I FUCKING TELL YOU YOU RAT ASSS I TOLD YOU YOU DONT FUCKING KNOW HER YOUR PRESUMPTUOUS PIECE OF HIT

Cregan had been wrong about you. It seemed like you could run a keep, and you did so with ruthless efficiency.

AND THAT'S ON PERIOD 💯🙏💪🔥

The castle had never been warmer, the meals so well planned. Even the servants seemed happy, now that they didn’t have to follow Cregan’s too broad instructions. It seemed that asking them to clean and cook was a little too vague for their tastes.

She is that gwORL with the lipgloss unmoving

The lack of sunlight had made you lose your southron tan, leaving you with a look of quiet frailty that made Cregan want to wrap you in a thousand blankets and keep you safe. He just was unsure of the execution.

🤨 honestly 🤚🤚🤚 stay away I will poke your eyes out. Poor bb girl tho.

You seemed at ease enough around Sara, and some other northern ladies, so social interaction wasn’t what you disliked. It was him.

Never had Winterfell’s corridors been filled with so many women. The northern lords already called you Queen Alysanne’s second coming, with your all female court. The only thing missing was your husband. You didn’t have Cregan’s ear, simply because you didn’t wish to.

PERIOD 💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 GRIEF IS OVER TIME SO SLAY AND KEKE

“You intend to honor me by giving me more work?”

HES JUST A MAN 👎👎👎👎

You place your hands on your hips, highlighting your figure, and Cregan is but a man.

PFFFT the way I just said he's just a man. MY GUY YOU RNT UR A DAWWGGGG 👎

It is the wrong thing to say. You bare your fangs then, and Cregan has a moment of absolute and utter clarity. You are not a seahorse. Such a puny creature could never hope to deliver the utter destruction that you cause with your next words.

BEAT HIS ASS

... Ngl I don't remember the context of this but HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH THE SENTIMENT REMAINS

“Yes, and your precious Arra is dead! She is gone! Why can’t you understand it?” You turn on your heel, face absolutely thunderous, and go to rush out of his chambers.

..... Ngl shes dirty for that. She would stab him if he ever did the same to her with Luke 👎 L work sister. A sad day to be yn. Your honor that wasn't me I would never

Cregan does no longer dream of trying to hunt a seahorse. Instead, he sees the world at a much lower angle than usual, and runs for his life. Somehow, in the dream, he knows a dragon is hunting him.

And you know what he deserves it for underestimating her

I was gonna add that pic of this girl posing then there's like a dragon breathing fire behind her but I couldn't find it lol

Because the boy has gotten sick. And look, you have visited the nursery before, it is a part of your duties. You also cannot deny that you had been curious about the tiny version of your husband that will inherit everything.

☹️ POOR RICKON. I PERSONALLY COULD NEVER HAVE BEEF WITH A CHILD BUT THEN AGAIN I WASNT JUST MARRIED OFF TO A MAN I DONT KNOW OR LIKE

Had you not hardened your heart to it already, you would want one of your own. You know, though, that their only inheritance will be tears and petty squabbles over land, so it’s best they are not born at all. It had been so between your husband’s father and uncle, and it was being so between your mother and your uncle Aegon.

I hate this for her

Jacaerys. You hoped that wherever he was, he was suffering.

HAHAHAHAH I APPROVE THIS MESSAGE

You despised this place, and he had dared plot with your mother behind your back to get you here. With your beast of a husband, and this child of a previous marriage, whose existence would forever ensure your future children would inherit nothing.

The whiplash of the previous sentence being the first part of this paragraph goes crazy my gosh what the fuck

You get him. You would like to cry too.

JAHAHAHAHAHHA SHE SAID I UNDERSTAND YOU HAHAHAHAH U N ME BOTH KID 🤝

He is clearly feeling better if his lungs allow him to shriek like that.

❗❗❗❗NO BUT LIKE HONESTLY. THATS HOW I MEASURE HOW SICK I AM not shrieking but singing. Like if Im not singing I'm fucked. If I start singing again Im getting better 💕

You begin to rock him as you pace through the room. As his tears begin to subside, and he begins to grow curious about the soft song, you realize he is not the threat to your future children you had envisioned. Rickon is beautiful in the manner all babes are, soft and sweet. His little fists cling to your wool cloak, gray eyes meeting yours with fascination.

I love that for her

Lord Stark is drenched to the bone. His hair is stuck to his head and shoulders, dripping water onto his furs. The cloak he had worn is wet, and he is quick to remove it, leaving him in simple breeches and a jerkin. His face is the picture of worry.

🧍‍♀️ ........ 🫵WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-🫵

“I rode as hard as I dared.”

I have something inappropriate to say. But also 🗣️AS🗣️YOU🗣️ SHOULD 🗣️

His voice is low, pleasantly so. You had never considered the northern accent he sported attractive, but when his voice is gruff, and pitched low, you might see the appeal.

Lol. She said ok and?

The embarrassment from earlier, and the anger at the thought of your husband being soft because you remind him of her make you snap at him.

HONESTLY SHES BEING SO PETTY AND NORMALLY I WOULD BE ON PETTINESS'S SIDE BUT ???? IDK ITS GIVING IRRATIONAL????? IDK IDK LIVE YOUR TRUTH IG???

Why does he keep staring at you? Is he… Oh, by the Seven, he is smiling at you? So softly? You cannot stand it.

Cregan. YN

Look, princesses do not flee. They simply walk hurriedly. Very hurriedly.

Literally what she thinks of cregan and her reaction to it

CRISTI IDK WHERE I WAS EXPECTING THIS TO GO BUT IT WENT AND I LOVE IT. IM PATIENTLY SATTTTT EEEK LOVE LOVE LOVE 1000000/10

Winter (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Warnings: Mature language. Grief. Toddlers. Unreliable narrators. Miscommunication.

A/N: I was so excited about this chapter! These scenes are the ones I wrote first. Also, the biggest hug to anyone who is reading this. I had not expected the amount of love my first chapter got, and I am so grateful!

THERE WAS AN old northern superstition —more like an old wives’ tale, really— that said if there was snow on the wedding day, the marriage was doomed to be a cold one.

It hadn’t been snowing the day Cregan had married you, but his marriage was proving to be icier than the lands beyond the wall. You weren’t interested in spending time with him at all, and you actively tried to avoid him. He had tried to convince you to share rooms, trying to foster some intimacy, to no avail.

Cregan had hoped that if not a loving wife, he would get a caring mother to Rickon. The boy was too small to grow without one, not yet having reached his third nameday. But you hadn’t shown interest in that either. Instead, you pretended the two of them didn’t exist.

He would like to say that the days went on the same way they did before he wed you, but it would be a lie. Winterfell ran much better now there was a lady present. Cregan had been wrong about you. It seemed like you could run a keep, and you did so with ruthless efficiency.

The castle had never been warmer, the meals so well planned. Even the servants seemed happy, now that they didn’t have to follow Cregan’s too broad instructions. It seemed that asking them to clean and cook was a little too vague for their tastes.

As for you, grief still followed you around, like a too long shadow that refused to budge even in the face of Winterfell’s brightest light. Sara had befriended you, with little success. While you had been far more welcoming to her, you still looked constantly tired and sad.

The lack of sunlight had made you lose your southron tan, leaving you with a look of quiet frailty that made Cregan want to wrap you in a thousand blankets and keep you safe. He just was unsure of the execution.

You scared him. He was man enough to admit it. People were often afraid of things they didn’t understand, and Cregan was no exception. You were made of absolute ice. There was no better description. Cold, but as fragile as glass.

He was running out of ideas on how to bond with you. Invitations to tea were denied, nor did you want to ride with him to see his tenants. You seemed at ease enough around Sara, and some other northern ladies, so social interaction wasn’t what you disliked. It was him.

Never had Winterfell’s corridors been filled with so many women. The northern lords already called you Queen Alysanne’s second coming, with your all female court. The only thing missing was your husband. You didn’t have Cregan’s ear, simply because you didn’t wish to. He would support your endeavors if you asked him to. He had offered his help with your attempts to establish a charity, since the North didn’t have Septas to take care of it, but you had proudly rebuffed him.

There was no pleasing you. He was at his wits’ end. Hence, the awful choice he had made that day.

To try to force you to be in his company.

“Why are you ordering my servants around?” You complain, barging into his chambers. While usually the kitchens were the domain of the Lady of the household, Cregan didn’t know you took it so seriously. “Do you not think me capable enough?”

“I do!” Cregan sits up in his bed, bewildered. He had given the orders around lunchtime, hoping you would not find out, yet here you were, less than half a day later. Far more soon than he had expected. “I just want to throw a feast to honor you.”

“You intend to honor me by giving me more work?” You place your hands on your hips, highlighting your figure, and Cregan is but a man. He cannot help himself, his eyes lingering for a second too long, and his brain coming with no response to your statement.

You seem to take his silence for affirmation.

“Seriously? Do you at least have a guest list?”

And your tone is so haughty, your words betraying you believe Cregan to be an absolute imbecile, he cannot help but give a heated retort.

“Of course I have. Truly, I am more than capable of organizing it on my own. Arra let me do it a few times, and I was unmarried for quite a while. I am experienced enough to…”

It is the wrong thing to say. You bare your fangs then, and Cregan has a moment of absolute and utter clarity. You are not a seahorse. Such a puny creature could never hope to deliver the utter destruction that you cause with your next words.

“Yes, and your precious Arra is dead! She is gone! Why can’t you understand it?” You turn on your heel, face absolutely thunderous, and go to rush out of his chambers.

Cregan loses his head fully, then. He grabs you by the arm, hard enough to hurt, and forces you to face him. For a frightening moment, he fears himself. Fears the wolf, the one screaming for him to strike you and remind you of your place.

How dare you come in his chambers, uninvited, after rejecting all his offers of companionship, to lecture him on grief? As if he could forget Arra was dead. It wasn’t so long ago that Rickon cried for his mother still, unable to understand why he didn’t have one. It wasn’t so long ago that Sara had to take over the role of Lady of the House, and suffered mockery from it. And it wasn’t so long ago, Cregan woke with a scream choked in his throat, reliving that awful morning in every dream he had.

He still did, sometimes. Less, now that he had more urgent matters to occupy himself with. Cregan was ashamed to admit it, but before Jacaerys and your arrival here, Winterfell had been far too empty to keep the ghosts away.

Now, with the war, and the flurry of activities that seemed to follow you, Cregan had little time to dwell much in his dark thoughts. Throwing himself into his work had allowed him to begin healing a wound he wasn’t even aware existed.

And wasn’t that a terrible thought? That Cregan was a man who thrived on war and hunger? Winter was coming, after all. It wouldn’t catch him unprepared.

He had sworn a vow to protect you. As long as Jacaerys had no children, you were third in line to the Iron Throne. To think of hurting you was not only to think of staining his honor, but to think of treason.

Cregan holds you there for a second longer, curious about your reaction. His grip must be bruising on your arm, he can feel the delicate bones under your flesh shift with how hard he is holding you. Yet, you show no fear. Your hands are balled into fists.

Were he to strike, you would strike back. Your face is the very picture of anger, your body coiled and ready to tear him apart.

He throws the feast. You sit next to him in icy silence and somehow manage to speak and dance with all the guests but him.

Cregan does no longer dream of trying to hunt a seahorse. Instead, he sees the world at a much lower angle than usual, and runs for his life. Somehow, in the dream, he knows a dragon is hunting him.

OF COURSE IT is today. The only day you actually wish your Lord Husband to be in the castle, and he is not.

You had spent many of your days fervently praying for him to leave on an errand, and yet, the day he does, you cannot even enjoy it.

Because the boy has gotten sick. And look, you have visited the nursery before, it is a part of your duties. You also cannot deny that you had been curious about the tiny version of your husband that will inherit everything.

The boy is cute, you suppose. In the manner all babes are. He is well-behaved, and quiet, and takes well to his teachings, even if they involve only naming things aloud.

Had you not hardened your heart to it already, you would want one of your own. You know, though, that their only inheritance will be tears and petty squabbles over land, so it’s best they are not born at all. It had been so between your husband’s father and uncle, and it was being so between your mother and your uncle Aegon.

The only assurance a woman has in a life spent as little more than property is her children. They are to inherit their father’s lands, and that is supposed to be enough. But for the second sons, said promise is always broken.

You had never, not once, thought you would come to understand Alicent, yet here you were.

You reflect on this as you hurry to the nursery, worried the damn boy will die before you reach it. When you get there, you feel the urge to scream. There is not one, but three serving girls hovering by the door, and the Maester is mixing some herbs in a chalice.

The child sleeps peacefully, unaware the surrounding turmoil. He looks impossibly small in his bed of furs, shirt open and chest covered in strange poultices. The boy… No, Rickon, had taken ill after the first snow. Perhaps he had been spending too much time playing outside, or he lingered too much in his wet clothes. You wouldn't know. You tried to avoid him as much as you could.

After this was over, you would have a stern talk with his maids. They shouldn’t be this careless. This was your husband’s heir. Someone had to care about him.

Not you. Never you.

“Will he be alright?” You ask, as the Maester places a wet cloth on his forehead. You have never liked children, never having had the chance to be one yourself. Your mother’s constant quest for the Iron Throne and her love for Daemon had often left you in the hands of the help. And when you were old enough, you had to take the role of the mature sibling alongside Jacaerys, helping raise your brothers.

Jacaerys. You hoped that wherever he was, he was suffering. You despised this place, and he had dared plot with your mother behind your back to get you here. With your beast of a husband, and this child of a previous marriage, whose existence would forever ensure your future children would inherit nothing.

You weren’t going to have children. Despite loving children, you despise your husband too much to ever lay with him. But most of all, you are beginning to fear you will become a damn Hightower. You feared that if you had children and faced the prospect of them only being second sons, you might be tempted to start a war too.

“He will, Princess.” The Maester, unaware of your inner turmoil, places a reassuring hand on your arm. He surely believes in the gentle hearts of women, or some nonsense like that. “The fever will lower with the tea we gave him, and the cool cloth on his forehead. His lungs are strong. He will breathe normally soon.”

The boy’s chest flutters oddly. His ribs show with each inhale, depicting his trouble breathing. You cast a dubious look at the cool cloth. If this was all they could do, it was no wonder your grandfather had been rotting alive.

“Is that all you have to say? Why do his ribs show?” You do your best to channel your mother, tone imperious. “If this is truly…” Before you can insult him by calling him the worst the Citadel has to offer, a boy comes in. You let out a sigh of relief, your desire to berate the Maester subsiding. It’s the same boy you had sent to Castle Cerwyn to retrieve your husband.

“Princess!” He says, extending a hand to you. Much to your astonishment, he hands back the message you had sent to Lord Cregan. “I have grievous news. The road to Castle Cerwyn is fully blocked. I couldn’t get past the river. I cannot go over it either and avoid the forest, for it is not fully frozen.”

“This cannot be!” You say, crossing your arms over your chest. Cursed your husband, and his plans to visit the Cerwyns’ tenants today, of all days. “You have to get Lord Cregan. Send a more experienced rider.”

“My lady, I would advise not to.” The Maester says, meekly. “Even if the rider does manage to get past, it is very likely Lord Stark is in the village, snowed in.”

“Well, then send a damn search party!” You yell, uncaring your language is unbecoming of a Princess. You cannot be here while the child… While Rickon dies. The child has a parent, and it is your husband, you do not even care for him!

“It is not as simple.” The Maester cringes when you turn on him.

“Of course it isn’t. The only simple thing is the cure for the child’s malady, isn’t it?” You growl. “Do something useful, if you think a rider cannot reach my husband. Get me someone who can, and fix the boy.”

It would be easier for you if the boy died. You could have the children you so craved. The obstacle would have removed itself. Relationships between half brothers are never as strong as between full ones. At the very least, this child could cast out you and any children you birth when Lord Cregan passes. At the very worst, he might have them killed, as your mother intended with her usurper brother.

But you are not so craven as to let an innocent die. He is still a boy, no older than three namedays. He is vulnerable, and his father is not here.

You sit next to the bed, eyes fixed on his chest. Rickon will not die on your watch.

THE SOUND OF a door opening jerks you awake. Disoriented, you sit up on your chair, and check that Rickon still breathes.

He does. He has awakened with the sound of the door opening, just as you did. But unlike you, he has begun wailing. You get him. You would like to cry too.

“What is it?” You snarl at the serving girl who dared enter in such a manner. The sound of Rickon’s cries grate in your ears, shrill and loud, awakening you fully. You try to coax him into laying back down to no avail.

“Milady…” She stammers, holding a breakfast tray. The reason for her interruption becomes clear. Had it been so long already? You remembered standing vigil over Rickon until sundown, and changing the cool compress a few times after, but no further. By the Seven, you were a terrible caretaker. “I… There are…”

Rickon wails harder.

“Father! Father, want father!” He cries. He then attempts to remove the cool cloth from his forehead, and get up, escaping the furs laid over him.

The serving girl stares at the boy. You stare at her. Rickon continues to squirm. When it is clear she is expecting you to soothe him, you sigh and turn to the child.

“Rickon, you have to lay down again.”

“Father! Father!” He wails, face beginning to turn red, his breathing labored. You are unsure if it is his distress or the sickness, but it worries you nonetheless. The child cannot die. You are not prepared to deal with it.

“Shh, Rickon, I know you are hurting.” You tell him, as you pick him up. “Father is not here. He is trapped by the snow.”

At this, he cries harder. You can hear him gasping for air as he squirms in your arms and kicks at you. His snot is getting everywhere. Good Gods, what if he dies? Would your husband actually force you consummate the marriage if he loses his heir? The thought alone is enough to force you into action.

“He is not trapped. He is snowed in, just as when you cannot go out and play. Happens all the time.” You reassure him, rubbing his back. You know your words to be a lie, but the boy doesn’t. The weather has been especially rough this season. The snow storm is unusual in its fierceness. “He will be back soon.”

Rickon perks up at that.

“He will?”

“As soon as he can.” You promise, hoping it is the case. In truth, you do not know. Your husband is unaware Rickon is ill, and holds no fondness for you. You doubt he will be rushing once the road clears. In fact, you think he might be celebrating the weather and praising his northern gods for the excuse to get a respite from you.

Well, too bad. You would send men each hour to check if the storm waned and the road was accessible once more. He would have to come and tend to his child.

“Where is father?” Rickon asks you, a suspicious look in his little face. He is eerily similar to your husband. His sobs have turned more subdued.

“With Lord Cerwyn.”

“Why? Hurts! Father!” The boy demands, petulantly. He is clearly feeling better if his lungs allow him to shriek like that. You are no healer, but his agitation is worrying you. What if he has a fit because he overexerted himself and then dies?

“I want your father too.” You mutter under your breath. “You do not see me wailing.”

“I love father.” He sobs. “Want him.”

And you are not made of stone. You have never been, no matter how hard you pretend. He is still a babe, hands chubby, face round. He still smells like one, a mix of the nursery, and sweet innocence.

Without even realizing it, you have cradled him into your arms and begun rocking the two of you. He keeps wailing, so you begin singing.

“I loved a maid…” There is no need to be a good singer to soothe babies. You are unsure of what they like about it, but you know it works. It had worked for Aegon and Viserys, why not for Rickon? “As fair as summer, who had sunlight in her hair….”

You begin to rock him as you pace through the room. As his tears begin to subside, and he begins to grow curious about the soft song, you realize he is not the threat to your future children you had envisioned. Rickon is beautiful in the manner all babes are, soft and sweet. His little fists cling to your wool cloak, gray eyes meeting yours with fascination.

Charmed by him, you keep singing. Seasons of my love is enlarged and repeated ten times over, and now includes verses about northern babies who look exactly like their father.

“I loved a boy…” You hum, softly. It feels like hours have passed when Rickon’s eyes finally begin to drop. Of course he would enjoy the verses about winter the most. “As white as winter, with moonglow in his hair.”

The door opens, slowly. You hear the wood groan as it does, but Rickon takes no notice. He burrows his head next to your heart, yawning.

You turn to look at the newcomer, pleased that having put the fear of the gods into the maid who had dared enter before had proven fruitful. The pleased smile drops from your face when you realize it is your husband.

Lord Stark is drenched to the bone. His hair is stuck to his head and shoulders, dripping water onto his furs. The cloak he had worn is wet, and he is quick to remove it, leaving him in simple breeches and a jerkin. His face is the picture of worry.

“I rode as hard as I dared.” His voice is low, pleasantly so. You had never considered the northern accent he sported attractive, but when his voice is gruff, and pitched low, you might see the appeal. “How is he?”

He shouldn’t have bothered with the low tone. Rickon would recognize his voice everywhere because he perks up considerably.

“Father! Father!” Rickon claps. He attempts turning in your grip to look at your husband, which makes you fear he might fall, so you perch him on your hip so he can do so.

“The fever has broken.” You hand Rickon back to him, feeling a hint of embarrassment when his eyes linger on the way you had been holding him. “He’ll live.”

“Thank you.” And his voice is earnest and soft, and it makes you wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Is it her still? Does Arra Norrey stand in this room with you, too?

The embarrassment from earlier, and the anger at the thought of your husband being soft because you remind him of her make you snap at him.

“It’s fine. I missed my siblings.” You cross your arms over your chest, awkward. Why does he keep staring at you? Is he… Oh, by the Seven, he is smiling at you? So softly? You cannot stand it. “I will send for a bath for you and Rickon, after washing myself. Less I catch a cold too.”

Look, princesses do not flee. They simply walk hurriedly. Very hurriedly.

[aquatic-armageddons]

Team "Whore"tress 2

CW: Not well proofread, foul language, unprotected p in v, double penetration, deepthroating, cunnilingus and tit fucking

---

Today was supposed to be Y/N's day, a day she'd been planning for since she joined the RED team. She'd even been grilling them about it when it was steadily approaching. Days like this were supposed to be happy, cheery and all around memorable.

But who would have thought it'd end in sheer hurt and disappointment?

Y/N just wanted at least one birthday wish, just one tiny gesture that shows her how much she is cared about, but apparently, that was too much to ask for.

The team acted like they never knew and just went about their normal business. And when Y/N tried to speak to them about her special day, she was not even allowed to finish her words, as they grew aggravated with the constant pestering.

"Goddammit, Y/N! Can't you stop getting on my case?! I do not want to hear what you gotta say right now!" Medic exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Medic, I didn't mean to-"

"You have been getting on everyone's final nerve, Y/N." Spy interjected. "Do you not know the meaning of the word 'humility'?"

"But I just wanted to tell you-"

"Tell us what?" Sniper chided. "That you're sorry for nearly costing us a battle today?"

"But I-"

"Enough! Tiny girl should stop. Go to some other place, now!" Heavy barked loudly, making Y/N quiver and shrink into herself.

"Fine." Y/N growled bitterly to herself, try desperately to choke back the salty tears from her eyes, unsuccessfully.

After she left, tension lingered for the other mercenaries to embrace. Soldier and Demo exchanged worried glances, as well as Engineer and Pyro.

"You guys ever stop to think why she's acting like that?" Scout questioned.

"Why should we?" Medic muttered. "It's not like it's so important that we can't wait."

Scout shook his head in exasperation. "You all are so fuckin' stupid, I swear. Do I gotta spell it out for you?"

Demo cocked his head to the side. "Please do, 'cause I don't get why the poor lass has her panties in a bunch."

It was at this moment when Scout snapped a little. "It's her goddamn birthday, dumbasses! I was the only one who remembered, and you all forgot?! God, you seriously piss me the fuck off!" He shook his head in disappointment.

Everyone's face paled as the weight of their mistake sunk in rapidly. An uncomfortable pang of hurt coursed through their hearts, and they made no attempt to hide the shame on their expressions.

"Scout cannot be serious.. " Heavy whispered.

"This is not April Fool's Day, maggot. Why are you messing with us now?" Soldier blurted.

"Why would I make this up, you guys? Does the poor girl mean nothing to you at all?" He looked at him with a cold stare.

"You're wrong, mate. She means everything to us." Sniper griped.

"Then we gotta fix this. Now."

---

A knock on Y/N's door echoed through the hall of dorms. The only noises audible from the other side was her soft cries and sniffles.

God, this was heart-wrenching to its core.

"Mon chéri, may we come in?" Spy spoke tactfully.

"Go away..."

"C'mon, little lady. We just wanna talk, that's all." Engineer pressed.

The door suddenly swung open to reveal an agitated Y/N. Her eyes were bloodshot from the many tears, and her face was slightly flushed and puffy.

"What's there to talk about?! I've been reminding you bastards for WEEKS, and you just up and forgot! You don't get to come here now like you give a damn!" Y/N's throat clenched up as a new set of tears fell.

"Fraulein, please!" Medic pleaded with her. "We're sorry, sweetie. Is there any way we can make it up to you?"

Y/N thought for only a moment. "You guys really want to prove you're sorry?"

"Da, more than anything!" Heavy exclaimed.

"Alright, then. Prove it."

"But how, lass?" Demo urged.

"Use your imagination..."

The other mercenaries' eyes grew wide with understanding as Y/N slowly removed her blouse. Even though she didn't speak another word, the message was obvious.

"I believe I should go first, short stuff. Since I'm the only one who remembered, right?" Scout whispered in Y/N's ear, sending a chill down her spine.

Scout gently pressed his lips against hers, but soon after initiated a deep, passionate makeout session. His lips then traveled down towards the nape of her neck as he deeply inhaled her scent. Y/N shuddered as she felt Pyro's hands grasp onto her backside, gently kneading and massaging.

Sniper slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of Y/N's bottoms, his fingers gently teasing her clit. They circled the hardened nub with ease, making Y/N more soaked than she was before. He then slowly removed his hand and sucked on his fingertips, not breaking his eye contact with her for a second.

"Fuck, Sheila. You taste bloody gorgeous...but I'd rather eat this straight from the source if you don't mind..."

Sniper laid back down on the bed beside him, beckoning Y/N to give him a better taste of her juices. She happily complied, taking off her bottoms and slowly climbing towards Sniper's head.

"Go on, Y/N." Heavy stated. "Give Sniper a taste of wet, juicy pussy."

She didn't need to be told twice. Slowly lowering her lips above Sniper's, she let out a shaky moan as he swiped his thick tongue across her folds. Sniper growled in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around Y/N's thighs, locking her in place. She tilted her head back as she rode his face, running her fingers through his hair.

After getting a better taste of her, Sniper switched positions and laid her on her back, spreading her thighs while apart. He beckoned Spy over, silently telling him to get a taste of her sweet cunny.

"Go on, mate. It's the best tastin' cunt you'll ever have..." He groaned.

Spy hummed in compliance, lowering his head and attaching his face to hers. Y/N arched her back and moaned shamelessly, jaw stacking and saliva dribbling out of her mouth. Even though she shut her eyes, it didn't stop Spy from savagely devouring her cunt.

She felt the bed's weight dip on both sides of her head. She opened her eyes to see Soldier's hard cock on her left side and Engie's on her right. Taking one in each hand, Y/N began stroking slowly, illiciting a groan from both men.

"Damn, honey..." Engie began. "You sure know how to use those hands, don't you?"

"She sure does, Engie!" Soldier bit his lip as Y/N licked his cock from base to tip, swirling the tip with her tongue. He ran his fingers through her hair as he suddenly thrusted down her throat, making her gag.

"Let's see how these tits fit around my cock, lass..." Demo climbed over Y/N's torso, placing himself in between her breasts. He let a sliver of saliva dribble down onto his cock and thrusted back and forth, earning himself a satisfied moan.

"You're not one to lie, Bushman. She tastes quite wonderful..." Spy agreed, licking her juices from his mouth, like observing the taste of fine wine. "Scout, get one with her, would you? You said you were first, yes? And it is rude to keep people waiting."

"Fine, you rat." Scout hissed. "But I'm taking my time here, unlike you forgetful fucks."

He and Y/N swapped places, and he laid himself on his back. Y/N didn't hesitate to slam herself onto his shaft, causing both of them to moan out in unison. Scout grasped onto Y/N's behind, guiding her on his cock as she bounced up and down.

"Lean onto Scout, Devushka." Heavy insisted. "I will take your behind." Y/N did as instructed, and felt Heavy's massive member tease her backdoor. She began to cry out in slight pain, earning a scowl from Medic.

"Gott, mein friend! You need to prep the poor girl before fucking her there!" Medic scolded.

Heavy rolled his eyes. "Da, da, doctor."

He spit onto his fingers, making them well lubricated before inserting them into Y/N's backside. Y/N cried out again, but with more pain than pleasure. Her moans grew louder as Heavy slid himself inside her, making her holes completely occupied.

"Isn't this a sight to see?" Spy stated with a chuckle. "This is far better than any verbal apology we can give, and you know it, Mon chéri."

A few minutes passed and at least everyone's had a round with Y/N's throat, tits, pussy and behind. But that wasn't the icing on the cake, at least not yet.

Y/N kneeled on the floor as she was surrounded by all nine mercenaries, her mouth open and tongue sticking out, longing for the last of their seed to cover her face.

"Fuck!"

One after the other, they released the last of their essence onto Y/N's face and down her throat. Her hair was a sticky, white mess, as well as the rest of her body. Her pussy and backside were sore, her lips were slightly swollen and her eyes were still bloodshot from the tears of pleasure she wept. She would have passed out then and there, but Medic scooped her up, carrying her to the bathroom a few feet away.

"Fraulein, we truly are sorry for not remembering your special day. Do you forgive us?" He whimpered as he placed her in the tub, turning the dial to hot.

"You guys are so silly. I forgave you the moment you knocked on my door earlier!" Y/N smirked. She let out a deep sigh of relief when settling in the bath, the hot water easing her sore spots.

"Good. Because the last thing we want is to have any more tension in the base." Spy noted.

"But I'm glad you're feeling better, and we promise not to forget your special days anymore. Isn't that right, gentlemen?"

---

A/N: THE LONG WAIT IS FINALLY OVER!!!!

I want to apologize for not releasing this when I said I would. I don't like going back on my word at all, but I wanted to recover from my illness (a little) before completing this. Last night was absolutely horrible for my lungs and stomach (coughing for a straight hour, hacking up phlegm and puking as well 🙃🤢). But I'm feeling a lot better today, and I plan on seeing my doctor this week. In the meantime, please let me know what you think and send me asks for what headcanons/fanfics you wish to see in the future!!!!

[rosurie]

Noé and Damsel relationship chart ♡

Damsel's Relationship Breakdowns:

Noé - "My precious baby brother Noé ♡"

- Noémie and Damsel are thick as thieves. she's also kinda the reason he has such a skewed view of romance, whoopsies ♡. Noé is precious to her, and she let's him get away with far more than anyone else in the orphanage. her precious baby brother that occasionally gets her off ♡

Kylar - "My cute little pet!"

- Kylar is obsessed with her. she finds that hilarious. she loves Kylar in her own twisted little way, but if we're being honest, most of what she feels for Kylar is just a lust-filled power high. despite this, she is incredibly possessive of Kylar. she'd further isolate him if he even considered falling out of love with her. she craves the validation he provides. Kylar thinks she's a perfect angel who can do no wrong.

Whitney - "My bitch ♡"

- Whitney wants to fuck her so bad it makes her look stupid. Damsel is aware of this. she thinks it's sooo funny. Damsel feels this odd mixture of actually liking Whit as a friend sometimes and wanting to beat her ass on the daily. Ultimately Damsel thinks she's kind of pathetic and that she purposefully picks fights for her to humiliate her. cute ♡

Robin - "Don't fly too far, Robin. You owe me."

- Damsel resents Robin as much as she cares about him. Robin thinks Damsel is amazing and feels indebted to her, plus he has a crush. Damsel takes advantage of that. She teases him a lot and keeps him at low confidence because it makes her feel more powerful. it's the least he could do for her.

IW - "Who...were we?"

- Damsel is...wary of The Wraith. she's interacted with them enough to know they have some sort of connection..but what is it? she is The Wraith's precious pearl. she's not sure what they mean by that. she's also pretty sure she's seen them before, in those months where she had disappeared.

Harper - "Doctor Harper..."

- very mixed feelings. on one hand, he did help her post-reappearance. on the other hand, he very clearly is the shadiest fucking doctor she's ever seen. but also she thinks he's kinda pathetic for attempting to hypnotize her into kissing him and performing sexual acts on him. she thinks that's cute ♡. Harper thinks she's lovely, she was pretty compliant during her treatment. shame she doesn't come around much anymore.

Niki - "I think I'm in love with you. I have to die."

- Damsel is so down bad for Niki that it genuinely embarasses her. if anyone ever found out how often she thinks of Niki, she'd die immediately. she's going stir crazy thinking about him. Niki thinks she's cute and a great model. they like her more than they let on.

Landry - "She's almost like a mom! or an older sister."

- Landry and Damsel have a very playful relationship. they both tease Mickey when they're together and Damsel thinks Landry is a pretty nice woman, all things considered. Landry thinks it's a little odd how many important documents and items Damsel manages to her her hands on and to sell, but hey, she hasn't gotten caught so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

Bailey - "I hate you. [I don't]."

- Complicated feelings. She doesn't like other people demanding money from her and she doesn't like how quick he is to try to literally sell her. but...she was very attached to him as a kid and that's hard to shake off. [she also thinks he's hot but she'd jump from a building before admitting that]. Bailey thinks she's reliable. sometimes he still looks out for her.

Noémie's Relationship Breakdowns:

Damsel - "My tiny older sis ♡. I'll keep you safe."

- he does everything he can to keep her safe. he also feels a bit entitled to parts of her but I go into that more here. Damsel was the first person he attached to at the orphanage and some things never change. despite not being around her much physically during the week, he does seem to always know how to find her if he needs to.

Robin - "We grew up together. You should be less naive."

- he's noticed Robin's attachment to Damsel but he doesn't really bother with it. Robin isn't a threat. Robin tends to see Noémie as an extension of Damsel because they interact him in similar ways and so he's got a very confusing boner for Noé.

Kylar - "You're not good enough for my sister. You're lucky she likes you."

- if he could get rid of Kylar without Damsel being upset, he would. he doesn't think Kylar is worth any of Damsel's time, even if she's just using him. Kylar views Noé as a roadblock to Damsel and him living happily ever after. he's partially right (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶).

Sydney - "Fall into my arms, I'll guide you."

- Sydney is naive and pliable, the perfect subject to convert into his devotee. he wants to drive Sydney into calamity just to be her savior so he can be her new god. Sydney's low-key losing it because of his teasing and she's falling hard.

Jordan - "You seem so innocent for someone in such high regard. Curious."

- so curious about Jordan. how can someone so innocent be a priest for this fucked ass Temple?? wants to ruin Jordan but also thinks he's fun like this. likes to subtly flirt with him because Jordan is very easily flustered. Jordan thinks Noé is sweet and kind! even if he can be a bit of a smooth talker. he's choosing to ignore how that affects him.

Bailey - "I spent a lot of time around you when Damsel and I were young. You seemed so different then."

- he gets pissed off when Bailey attempts to sell off Damsel [before she made bank of course]. there's still some bitterness there, but he also still thinks of Bailey as that guy Damsel used to cling to and admire so he's not completely on his shit list. Bailey doesn't like to be around him too long because the air around him is always ice cold, but Noé pays his dues so he doesn't have any strong feelings about him.

Relationships I didn't add so the chart didn't get too confusing

- Noé is very interested in The Wraith and their interest in Damsel. however he's also like...please stop trying to impregnate my sister with your parasite babies ♡

- Noé likes Niki [btw my Niki is amab but uses he/they pronouns so if you see me hopping between those now you know why]. they treat Damsel well and she doesn't get harassed nearly as much in his photography studio. he's Noé approved.

- despite her bad blood with the Temple, Damsel actually really likes Jordan! she feels a bit bad that she doesn't visit him more often. also she low-key wants to get in his pants but she's choosing to ignore that.

[silvercap]

hey Silver! I was thinking #20 for the h/c prompts? anyone you like but I mean we love torturing the blonde man 😌

We do indeed 🤭 and boy do I have a good one

20. "Please stop."

Chris comes to to the blaring of the car alarm, his neck aching as he groans and carefully shifts his head on the soft surface he's found himself resting on. Tiny pinpricks scrape his cheek as broken glass tinkles somewhere, the shaky trail of warm blood on the side of his cheek warning him that something is wrong. He opens his eyes.

The first thing he notices is Leon, unconscious and bloody in the driver's seat, his head lolling to hang over his chest and bangs covering his face. His arms hang limp at his sides, seatbelt the only thing keeping him from falling out of his seat entirely---and it's then that Chris notices the crumpled-in driver's-side door jamming into Leon's bloody upper arm, the angle of it awkward and horribly broken. He gasps, sitting upright, only to black out for a minute as woozy lightheadedness takes him for a spin. Okay. Slow movements, it seems.

Chris still feels like he's going to vomit as he sluggishly clicks his seatbelt off and reaches out to shake Leon's shoulder, depth perception worryingly off. The faint sound of growling somewhere in the distance makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, the crystal-clear memory of the BOWs that had driven them off the road and straight into a thicket of trees jolting him into action.

"Leon," he croaks. "Leon, you have t' wake up."

It takes a long moment for Leon's eyes to flicker open, his face turning towards Chris's voice like a flower towards the sun. The rest of his body is worryingly limp. His lips move like he wants to say something, but all that spills forth is a trickle of blood. Chris unbuckled his seatbelt for him and tugs on his arm.

"We have to go. Can you try to wiggle out of there?"

Leon moans, shifting. The action yanks on his injured arm where it's still caught in the door's mangled mass, his head falling back as he spasms. Chris wants to sob. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. We have to go, just try one more time."

He pulls on Leon's arm desperately, trying to get him unpinned---

"Please...." Leon rasps, voice taut with pain. "Please stop."

Chris freezes. Leon's face is twisted in utter agony when he looks, his awkward, broken arm held at an uncomfortable angle where his upper body has begun to lean towards Chris. Panic rises somewhere in Chris's chest.

"They're coming, Leon, we have to get you out of here!"

"Please stop," Leon pleads again, voice hazy in a way that tells Chris he's barely clinging to consciousness. "Just go, just---please, just leave me."

Chris wants to argue but he knows there's no time. He shakes his head and squeezes Leon's shoulder, then pushes his car door open and stumbles out into the fading evening sunlight. Not too far away, he can see the BOWs racing towards the car, and Chris steels himself in preparation. Maybe he can't get Leon out of here, but he'll defend the place he's trapped in with everything he has---or die trying.

[foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland]

I need 2 explode actually rn. Fuck. There are so amny things i need 2 do and i dont have the. Emotional energy. To do any of them. I want to sink into my bed and hibernate but. Even that sucks. I need to explode.

Yknow what would fix me rn tho. There r a ton of things i need 2 buy. But i dont have the money 2 buy anything rn. Capitalism dying forever would fix me.

And getting some impulse control as well. And like. Not doing thinhs. W/o thinking abt it for like. A decent chunk of time b4hand

[hana-bobo-finch]

tis here!! My stupid little beta pdbc comic!! UHHHHH

additional ramblings because I don’t know how to stop yapping:

I know the ending is extremely abrupt but honestly? I can’t even lie I think it’s funnier and somehow more in character that way. There is no way in hell he’d question what just happened he’d just lay on the floor and say “alas!” As if that is in any way is a proper response to what just happened. So no apologies for that, I genuinely think the ending is amazing and won’t hear anything else. Alas.

I WAS REALLY SCREWED OVER WITH THE TEN IMAGE MOBILE LIMIT SO THE PACING IS VERY IFFY!! That alongside the fact I wanted to get this out as quickly as possible to gauge opinions and such—therefore making this much less detailed than I’d like to have made it, yes that’s my own fault I know—means that I couldn’t properly show what the briar zome is like (HEARTBREAKING). It’s a lot more spacious and unending than what’s shown here. In this it only looks like you’re there for a few minutes but experiences there can last up to a week. There are also a lot more thorns and spiked vines, it’s just that, like I said, I wanted to get this posted quickly and coloring in all of those spikes probably took more time than some of the drawings themselves. Had I made this as accurate to canon as possible, it would be much more visually cluttered. The briar zome is VERY hard to traverse because almost everything is covered in thorns (hence the name). Also worth noting that although it’s seemingly wintry there, there’s no actual temperature in the briar zome which is why pumpkin daddy is not fucking freezing to death (you have to look DAPPER when you’re illegally eating crabs)

This technically isn’t canon. This is a mishmash of all of the stuff I have about the briar zome, but in canon it’s all much more spread out, e.g. the eyes weren’t discovered until a few trips in when they actually bothered trying to figure out if/where the briar zome ends, in which BAM they found a buncha eyes!! Speaking of the eyes, their official names are Sotes, and where they’re found is called the “Eyes Rink” (GET IT!!! EYES!!! ICE!!! GET I-💥💥💥)

you’re probably wondering what the Miika chimp incident is, which is a fair thing to be wondering, however I will not be elaborating because I think it’s funnier that way. sorry (I am not at all sorry)

AND THE TIIIIIIME yes indeed the time works differently there. As one could. Probably guess by the wack-ass watch positions. The briar zome does in fact have its own time system that’s displayed differently than most would be used to. Alas, I had to cut that part short because I realized I was quickly running out of pages and I really wanted space to draw some of those beautiful beautiful eyeballs. I has this whole lecture about different types of watch hand designs and their names but that was unfortunately cut for time (ironically)

anyway uh. hope this was somewhat enjoyable? *EXPLODES*

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

booked a hotel and got the concert ticket aghhhh

[al-luviec]

still haven't moved on from zane in this episode (aka I hit tag limit again and am unhappy about it)

[carbonateddelusion]

sits here. my mood has been swinging back and forth like a pendulum lately

[dandyshucks]

starting to think maybe i should turn rbs off on that post actually bc im having heart palpitations now fdsjgjkl why is this happening to meeee

[weirdlizard26]

so bizarre to me that my love language is apparently recording music for people. how did this even happen

[oveliagirlhaditright]

What’re your favorite kh ships?

If I'm being honest... I really only true ship SoKai these days (my forever OTP). Mainly because I feel like that's the only one I can really ever see actually being canon (well, aside from Yozora and Nameless Star, and I also ship them: a lot of that for Versus XIII reasons. My heart won't let go). And, I mean, not that a ship needs to be canon for me to ship them. Not at all. But I'll admit that I've grown out of some of the KH ships a wee bit, as I've found more adult ones in other fandoms to get invested one.

That being said, the KH ships that I do still care about are:

SoKai

RokuShi

Namiku

RokuNami

Terqua (though it seem these days the kids call it Terrqua. Or Terraqua?)

Gulava

Skulmera

Playerlitzia

YozoraNameless Star

Xehaqus

AkuSai

SoRiKai

RiKai

Roxiri (though not in canon. More in fanon. More for crack, kind of, actually. And friendship first and foremost)

I'm warming up to Replinami some these days, because of the tragedy of it all.

I've also started to warm up to Rion a wee bit... that past Shanna thought she'd never see.

SoNami in CoM only.

I could do XionRoxasNaminé. NamiXI, too.

VenAqua slightly, but I'd always choose Terra and Aqua over it (but one thing about the Wayfinder Trio for me, if I'm being truthful, is that I prefer the three of them as friends before any romance with any of them. Part of me even really thinks all three of them are truly just meant to be friends.)

A lot of people ship Ven and Strelitzia for some reason. And I doubt it'll ever happen, tbh. Who knows if they'll ever even really get a chance to meet and be friends. But I do get why they think it'd be cute.

And while I don't know if I truly ship them anymore, a part of me will always have a soft spot for Ventus and Naminé. Because for some reason, I really used to ship this crack pairing, back in the day.

I also don't really know if I ship them... but despite what I said above, I do get the feeling that Nomura might be doing something with Lauriam/Marluxia and Elrena/Larxene.

[evansbby]

.

[headspace-hotel]

I think sometimes people think eugenics is bad but its still true, like thinking that if people with certain traits have children it will change society for better or worse based upon what traits are promoted. I think its important to emphasize that eugenics is not only wrong morally it's also fake and stupid bullshit

Like eugenics was supposed to be based on the idea that "If it works with animals to select only the best ones to breed, why wouldn't it work with humans?"

well it doesn't work with animals, that's the thing. applying the eugenics ideas to domestic breeds of animals hasn't made better animals it's just made animals with more extreme expression of certain traits. turns out that when you decide which traits are the "best" and become obsessed with the genetic purity of the animals that have the "best" traits, you might well end up with some sad suffering creature like a Pug, or the Persian cats with the smashed faces that are in constant pain because their teeth and airways and brains are getting crushed by their skulls, or those meat chickens that grow so fast they can hardly even stand up after a few weeks old, or inbred race horses with tiny feet and fragile toothpick legs

like almost all traits are neither "good" or "bad" they're way more complex than that. a long tail or a long snout or a stubborn, independent personality can be good or bad depending on the situation. Who gets to decide what is a "good" trait or a "bad" trait? It's arbitrary and selecting for traits that are "good" in your opinion will often have both "good" and "bad" outcomes because the "good" and "bad" are part of each other and not separate its just part of being alive

Obviously oversimplifying everything but you get it. we did eugenics with dogs and how did that go? not very well