#but the first rule of writing is that you have to actually write

[siren-of-the-ocean-tumbls]

Hold up. Hold up!

So, Tim's doing his usual thing. Solving cases. Trying not to die. But there's a new cult in Gotham.

He rules out the Children of Dionysus first because they're recent *and they hurt Bernard*

Then he rules out the Court of Owls (as much as he can. Everything always seems to come back to them anyway)

He even rules out the Barbatos cult!

And the League of assassins, of course.

But nope. This is a whole new cult! In Gotham! That hasn't been here for generations. Which is a truly terrible sign.

"They're messing up the local ecosystem, Bern" Tim complains one night while they're lying on the couch. Bernard doesn't seem very bothered but they may just be because he was a part of a cult a while ago.

Seeing that Tim's still on edge, Bernard sighs "I'm sure it's nothing. They'll get squashed out like new rogues do all the time anyway"

Which is true. New cults don't tend to last long. Just like new rogues tend to end up hanging up their costumes after a few weeks.

Quicker if they somehow managed to piss off one of the actual rogues in the city.

"They've lasted long enough that I had to go investigate" Tim grumbles, a file in hand as he looks over the descriptions again.

No victims so far. Just scribbles. Symbols spray painted onto walls and eilings and floors. Mostly in abandoned warehouses, to be fair.

But what caught Tim's attention is that:

1) all the scribbles are written backwards. The literal letters inverted like mirror script.

2) They haven't been crushed or assimilated by one of the older, more established cults yet.

And 3) Whatever they were doing was actually working.

See, Tim prefers to keep his Batfam business tied to the detective side of things. Magic? Very much not in that category. Bart had laughed himself dizzy when Tim told him about the new cult and how he really just didn't want to deal with it. Given their history with YJ.

He'd left it to Jason and his weird hand/blood/evil?????? Swords.

Not Tim's circus. Not Tim's monkeys.

But then he started seeing problems pop up in the marina. People losing time. Losing memories. Seeing people he knew and love affected.

And if there's one thing Tim can't stand, it's doing nothing.

So here he is, bitching to Bernard while trying his absolute best to avoid a headache reading literal backwards talk.

Bernard sighs "You're not gonna sleep until you get that done, huh?" He asks, leaning onto an elbow, away from Tim onto the arm of the couch.

Tim's fairly certain his expression answers that question nicely.

Before he can verbally answer though, Bernard pulls the fils from Tim's hand, grabs a pencil from the table behind them and starts to scribble.

Tim, immediately frozen but quite intrigued, Narrows his eyes, leans closer to get a look at the notes Bernard is presumably scribbling onto his file.

And stops.

Detailed, illustrated notes. Not only on the writing but the symbols. The illustrations. Links that even Tim himself hadn't seen about taking advantage of the less fortunate. The placement of the warehouses.

"Bern?" Tim asks, hesitant but impressed.

Bernard huffs "Firstly, I got my mom's looks. But I got my dad's brains" he says simply. And that's how Tim knows something is wrong. Bernard almost never mentions his parents. Not after the restraunt attack.

"Mom was a wealthy socialite who loved to rebel against her parents quietly and without anything actually going wrong. And if that meant sleeping with some punk rock singer out of wedlock right before her marriage with Dad? Well. She honestly could have chosen worse"

"Just wish His band name was slightly cooler. I mean....Mucous Membrane? Are you kidding me?"

I keep thinking about this tweet and how much i want Bernard and Constantine to meet 🙏

[michimars-room]

Hiiiii have you written about the ghouls and oral yet? If not could write some headcanons for each of them or how good they are at oral, who enjoys receiving/giving ect? 💖

nonnie i love u so bad rn... ♡ ty for this

Ghouls & Oral preferences 🌶

MDNI❗️

Frostheim

Jin

♡ enjoys giving & receiving but receiving more so.

as previously stated,,, likes to watch you struggle taking him in any and every way! Will grab handful of your hair and fuck your mouth.

But on the flip side, when giving oral…. good lord he is so good and takes his sweet sweet time. He wants to feel you shaking from an intense orgasm.

Tohma

♡ enjoys giving more than receiving.

Very good at giving oral, an integral part of foreplay when he is able to take his time with you. You have to cum at least once from eating you out before he fucks you.

Luca

♡ enjoys giving more than receiving.

Definitely a man of service! Is decent at giving, but after learning your body, he gets much, much better. Eager to please. He doesn't rush. He takes his time exploring, mapping out every part of your body period. Places sweet kisses up your leg slowly before licking tenatively while watching your reactions. Even if you beg for him, he refuses to rush through the process.

Kaito

♡ enjoys either way. (man is touch starved)

Prefers giving though, for the simple fact that he gets embarrassed when he ends up rutting into your mouth and loses self control and cums without warning. But when giving oral; he gets a sense of pride knowing he can make you squirm for him. Very hesitant & sloppy to start, you would have to guide him and be very vocal on what feels good and what doesn't. But,,, he is very eager to please and you only need to tell him once he wants to commit it to memory as best he can so the next time he does go down on you - you won't have to say or do anything than moan ♡

Vagastrom

Alan

♡ giving more than receiving

He is very anxious about being too rough or losing control, but being between your thighs he has more control vs receiving oral and ending up fucking your face…

Messy but so good??? praise him, and he's not moving from that spot. Will stay there for hours if he could…

Leo

♡ receiving period. [It's frustrating though because he literally has a tongue piercing… put it to GOOD USE!!!]

probably very very good at giving but just doesn't want to. When he does though, teases to no end…

Prefers receiving and cumming in your mouth or on your face. but that doesn't mean he's dominant- make him beg for it.

Sho

♡ giving & receiving equally

Very very very very good, actually enjoys oral simultaneously the most, makes it a competition on who cums first… (Leo & his bets rubbing off on him fr)

Sometimes prefers giving because damn… he can't get enough of your juices running down his chin.

either takes his time, or eats you out like a starved man…

Jabberwock

Haru

♡ no preference with giving and receiving

He is decent, either rushes or goes too slow but of course be verbal about what feels good and he gets it right away, and likes to watch you fall apart on his tongue.

Receiving when it comes to quickies!

Towa

♡ hates receiving, his soulmate, his dandelion is a pillow princess, prefers giving!

Is actually so good it's insane, keeps going and going and going, will overstimulate you - first by accident then on purpose. his sweetheart squirming and whimpering for him is so so so satisfying! ~♡

Ren

♡ so, the rules for giving & receiving are so specific.

Enjoys giving so he can hide his face while he's eating you out. When receiving he prefers you on your knees underneath his desk, letting him fuck your mouth while he plays games.

He's decent… He gets embarrassed when you give him instructions, but good god, when you do, he can play your body like a video game. ESPECIALLY HIS FINGERS. gamer boy…. and his fingers (im drooling)

Sinostra

Taiga *screeches*

♡ prefers giving more than receiving

……. the shape of Taiga’s tongue…. yeahhhh he loves to eat his kitty's pussy sooo much. good lord the way his tongue reaches deep, he would pull away teasing the hell out of you while you whine, nips at your thigh before going back to work slurping up your juices with the most obscene sounds…

Romeo

♡ giving & receiving equally

A man of equality & like Sho: enjoys performing oral simultaneously with their partners.

Is very very good @ giving. the way he barks orders… what that mouth do otherwise? (a lot) will have you shivering in under a few minutes. expects the same pampering in return of course.

Ritsu

♡ prefers giving

Doesn’t want to get caught or do anything on the clock - so going down on him under the desk is a no go during work hours. Maybe during roleplay sure! Still prefers giving overall.

He's not the best initially but he'll be damned if he doesn't learn quickly! Would definitely research women's erogenous zones and find out what makes you feel good and use that to his advantage the next time & oof have fun :-)

Hotarubi

Subaru

♡ slight preference to receiving, doesn't mind giving but is kind of shy doing so initially.

Prefers receiving for the simple fact of lacking the confidence on making you fall apart on his tongue. Takes him some time, not the best. Not necessarily shy; just unsure on what feels good you will need to guide him.

Haku

♡ giving and receiving: enjoys what TURNS YOU ON MORE.

If him fucking your face turns you on more? He'll tease you and ruin you right after…. If him going down on you turns you on more, good LORD.

Yeah idc what anyone says. Skilled with his tongue, words, and fingers. A deadly combination, he will not stop until you squirt or beg!

Zenji

(putting aside the fact he is a ghost!)

♡ prefers giving, more than receiving.

He sings you high praises and worships your body before even getting his hands or tongue on you. A gentle, sensual lover, maps out every inch of your body first, kissing and licking, finding your sensitive areas and will drive you insane but no matter what - sex will not be rushed with him. No quickies.

Obscuary

Edward

♡ no preference on giving/receiving.

He is skilled but rusty. been a hot minute since he's been intimate like that with someone. Refuses to when you're on your period because he will go feral. Hard to resist no matter what he says, it's in his nature. Will devour you.

Rui

♡ giving and receiving: enjoys what TURNS YOU ON MORE.

same as haku (evil twin) but also like towa, you're his pillow princess! lay back and enjoy him unraveling you slowly and meticulously. very skilled, there's a reason why he's the playboy of the school…

Lyca

♡ …. he has no idea genuinely.

Rough at first with both giving and receiving, He needs a lot of help and guidance. Messy wants to keep trying to please you as best he can. A LOT of communication needed for him to become decent.

Mortkranken

Yuri

♡ prefers receiving over giving.

Enjoys receiving while he's at his desk, even though you're a HUGE distraction.

He believes in theory that because he knows anatomy, that he would be great! In reality though he is too rough at first, then he's barely touching or moving until he gets it. Also won't stop until he knows properly (your body is his new research assignment for the time being!)

Jiro

♡ a man of service 🫡 whatever turns you on more is what he prefers as well!

Yeah Jiro is built differently… he knows anatomy, knows where the erogenous zones are and that sensitivity varies by person- prepare for him to research you thoroughly! :) he is very skilled & will either keep edging or overstimulating you until you beg otherwise!

[mya-valentine]

Hey 👋🏽 first off, I’m super grateful for that hooves request you did for me last year :> Second, I was wondering if we could have some headcanons for Iida with a friend who’s almost his complete opposite?

Nature based quirk, very carefree stick-it-to-the-man wild child, and grew up in a more rural area in a working class family. And yet somehow when they meet at UA (reader is in general studies) they just click despite being so different.

thank you 🌿🍄

Headcanon: Iida with a Best Friend That's his Opposite

A/N: I enjoyed this a lot

When they first meet, Iida doesn’t quite know what to make of them. They’re everything he’s not—messy, wild, completely unbothered by rules, and always ready to challenge authority. Meanwhile, he’s rigid, disciplined, and deeply respectful of structure.

They bump into each other (probably literally) in the hallways of UA, where Iida is of course lecturing someone about school rules, and his soon-to-be-best-friend is in the middle of breaking about five of them.

“You’re not supposed to be here during class hours!”

“Yeah, and you’re not supposed to be this uptight. Guess we both got problems, huh?”

They expect him to be just another stuck-up, holier-than-thou hero student, but instead of writing them off completely, Iida actually takes the time to understand why they’re the way they are.

Iida thrives in structure and rules, while his best friend is all about breaking them. Despite that, they manage to balance each other out in the weirdest way.

Iida wakes up at the crack of dawn, follows a strict schedule, and sticks to a routine. His friend, on the other hand, wakes up whenever, goes with the flow, and somehow never actually gets in trouble for slacking off (too much).

The one thing they have in common? Loyalty. They may approach life differently, but they’ll throw hands for each other without hesitation.

His friend has a nature-based quirk, which makes them fluid, adaptable, and unpredictable—pretty much the opposite of Iida’s straightforward, high-speed combat style.

While Iida relies on calculated movements and precision, his friend is all about improvisation. They never fight the same way twice, using vines, roots, or even just the terrain to their advantage.

Their sparring sessions are hilarious to watch. Iida is trying to keep it structured, running drills and focusing on form, while his friend is like, “Nah, man, just feel it.”

Iida tries (and fails) to make them follow the rules. He’s constantly reminding them to wear the proper UA uniform; "Button up your shirt! And where are your shoes?! You must wear the appropriate footwear!", but at some point, he just gives up and lets them be.

In return, his friend drags him into things he never would’ve done otherwise—sneaking out onto the school rooftop, climbing trees instead of using the stairs, and pulling pranks on some of the stricter teachers (though, let’s be real, Iida does not approve of that last one).

He, in turn, teaches them the value of discipline. They start to begrudgingly respect his work ethic, and while they’ll never be as structured as him, they do try a little harder with their studies (even if they act like it’s just to get him off their back).

Iida is, of course, the ultimate mom friend. He reminds them to eat proper meals, scolds them for reckless behavior, and always has a first-aid kit ready.

Meanwhile, they’re the type to drag Iida into stupid situations just to “loosen him up.” "You don’t have to be responsible 24/7, man. Live a little.”

If they ever get injured doing something dumb, Iida has so many words for them—but underneath it all, he’s genuinely worried.

On the flip side, when Iida gets too worked up (which happens often), his friend is the first one to pull him out of his own head. “Dude. Breathe. The world’s not gonna end if you take a break for five minutes.”

Iida will definitely drop everything and sprint to their side if they’re in danger.

Even though they act like they don’t care about authority, Iida is their authority. If he tells them something is a bad idea, they actually listen (most of the time).

Their loyalty to each other is unshakable. If someone disrespects Iida, his friend is already ready to throw hands. "Only I get to call him uptight. You? You can shut up.”

If Iida ever has doubts about himself as a hero, they’re the first to remind him that he’s more than just rules and discipline—that he’s kind, determined, and genuinely cares about people.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[homestuckreplay]

hey i really liked your post speculating on the kids' school lives. i havent seen a lot of people talk about what the kids lives were like pre-sburb and you mentioned having more that you hadn't written so i wanna know what you got :D

hello thank you so much! this is something I definitely want to put more thought into, I think it gives a fuller understanding of them as characters to have ideas about their 'baseline normal' pre-sburb that they're now departing from. so here's a bunch of thoughts for now, and maybe I'll do some more later :D

John – I think that Dad Egbert had a happy childhood with Nanna, and because he was so happy, he’s basically tried to replicate those steps with John, and then is confused when John doesn’t respond as well as he used to. He’s definitely tried teaching John to cook and bake, going for walks/throwing a frisbee around together near pipe lake, enrolling him in all kinds of extracurriculars, etc, but John has always found it hard to get motivation to do those things – piano lessons was the one thing he actually stuck with, probably because it was a solo activity, and he never wanted to perform or be in an orchestra. When he was young it was rare for him to get invited over to other kids’ houses for playdates, and even more rare for him to ask someone over – the number of people who have ever been inside John’s room is extremely small imo. In nursery/pre-k when the teachers were trying to teach sharing skills and collaborative play, John was over in the corner making up scenes with various action figures, dolls and stuffed animals and he did NOT want any help.

But it’s the 2000s and nobody is talking about therapy or mental health, and he’s a nice kid, he’s not causing any problems he’s just a little quiet and spacey, so nobody ever thinks to assess him for anything and he kind of flies under a lot of people’s radar. And then as he gets older, later in elementary school and going into middle school, he starts to feel a little different, lonelier, seeing for the first time the things he’s missing out on and growing too big for this imaginary world he’s constructed for himself, so then he starts trying to learn to mask and fit in, play games with the other kids at recess, but by then it’s kind of too late because he’s missed out on so much. And he always kind of gets it wrong, like if the other kids all saw idk Night at the Museum when it came out, John would be all “yeah I saw that too!” but then he goes way harder on it than everyone else does and ends up looking weird, or he tries to play basketball and he’s actually okay at running and jumping but he doesn’t know The Rules so he fouls. And so he retreats into himself again, this time a little sadder and a little more restless, because he kind of knows he wants something else, but doesn’t quite know how to get it, or why it’s not working – because he has internet friends by this point, and they’re great but feel so distant, and there’s a real part of him who wants someone other than Dad to just sit next to on the couch and watch a movie with.

Rose – Mom is a scientist and clearly super intelligent, and she taught Rose to read, write and do basic math at a younger age then usual and Rose took to it quickly, so she went into kindergarten already knowing all that stuff and she showed up Ready to Win. Like it’s a challenge, like she could do all of the kindergarten work within the first week and then she wouldn’t have to go back for the rest of the year. And she was really annoyed when it didn’t work like that, because it wasn’t fair, like why should she have to sit at a table and wait while other kids are trying to make their first letter shapes? So she feels talked down to by the academics and she isn’t interested in other areas, like art and music and sport and group activities, because she doesn’t see them as important when Clearly there is a library here. Rose absolutely begs her mom to homeschool her as a young kid and Mom eventually gives in and they try it for the third grade, but by winter they hate each other and it’s what sets their relationship down its current path of misunderstanding and is what made them so distant from each other even while living together. After that Rose had a series of private tutors and was offputting and weird enough to get all of them to quit, some accidentally and some on purpose, so then for fourth grade she just goes back to school, and she starts applying herself to things like the violin and softball even though she doesn’t actually care about them because she’s just straight up bored.

Rose was a super early adopter of video games, I think her mom got her a computer of her own when she was very young to help with learning and because Rose was VERY intense and demanding as a small child, always asking complicated questions. So she really gravitated towards video games as something that has a skill curve in a way TV and movies don’t – I’m actually not sure she’s ever seen a movie, though she has played some shitty 2000s video game adaptations of movies. She started out playing educational games like Reader Rabbit and Cluefinders and then moved to playing anything she could get her hands on from various mail order catalogs, same with books, she would leave her order forms in stamped addressed envelopes on the front doormat and Mom would take them to the post office when she went out, pre-massive internet marketplaces. And after their relationship broke down Mom stopped taking her out of the house except to school, so Rose would pull stunts like setting a tent up in the backyard and sleeping there and making a campfire for a couple days, just for enrichment. Overall I think Rose has been like 10-20% understimulated for her entire childhood and has constantly, always been looking for things to pull her up to that baseline and has never really found anything, until right now.

Dave – I think Bro might send Dave to school as one of many hazing mechanisms, in addition to however many sword fights and rooftop battles, nobody is better at bullying and social control than kids. I also think Dave spends a lot more time outside of his house than the other kids, Bro probably kicks him out if he wants to have people over / set up some saw traps / do some weird puppet stuff so Dave ends up just kinda wandering the definitely not super walkable city streets as a pretty young kid, and that’s where he gets his ability to monologue like crazy because he just has this stream of thoughts in his head constantly as he observes the world. He doesn’t have food in the house but he has some local places like a mcdonalds and a diner where he can go in and the staff are like “hey it’s kinda weird this kid has a credit card. oh well!” and they’ll let him sit with a big plate of chicken nuggets and an apple juice because they figure his home life isn’t great, and occasionally one of the staff will go up to him and ask if everything is okay and where his parents are, and he just shrugs it off and says it’s fine and then doesn’t go back there for a while. Observing other people in the city is definitely where he gets his first inspiration for comics and blog posts, since he does so much more looking at the world than participating in it.

Dave doesn’t always bother showing up for school, he kinda decides based on the day if he’s actually going to go there because obviously he thinks everyone wants to see him and, like, what are those other kids gonna do if they don’t have someone cool to guide them around? But at the same time, he struggles with routine, and even if he genuinely tries to stick to going in, a couple days a week he just finds himself getting on the wrong bus and ending up in a random part of town, and he’s never had safety drilled into him so he’ll do things like pick up roadkill off the street to preserve it in his specimen jars, or climb up the outside of a building because a cop saw him not being in school, or steal from a store just to see if he can get away with it. It’s mostly for the story – he knows he can get attention from Bro or from people at school if he can share some wild stories, but in truth nobody actually believes what he says, and even though it’s at least mostly true he just gets seen as a kid with overactive imagination. That’s a big factor in his adoption of irony, because if he’s gonna be misconstrued and not taken seriously, he wants to control the intent behind that and its effects on people as much as possible.

[lvlybin]

I'm obsessed with your writings, they're sooo good!! 😍

so, I've been thinking of how would legal line would act while making reader please herself as they watch, refusing to touch her until she cums at least once...

this is my first time leaving an ask so it's okay if you don't want to do it, but I wanted to share the thought hehe

cw female masturbation, ovulation, mutual masturbation, degradation, praise, clit play, fingering (f!receiving), dom and sub undertones (mentions of rules), cumming on pussy, lowkey voyuerism?, nipple play, couple of spanks, ruined orgasm, a few of them are mean >< 18+ MDNI

✉️ the way I SCREAMED when I got this ask. anon you are a genius please please please send more of your thoughts!

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓙iwoong ﹙𝓴.﹚

     You never knew what to expect for foreplay with Jiwoong. Sometimes it was messy, him eating you out until you’d cum at least three times. Sometimes it was quick, both of you too desperate to feel each other than to actually go through the other parts of sex. Then, there were times like these, when Jiwoong just wanted to watch you. His forehead’s pressed against yours as he withdraws his fingers from your clit, making you whimper from the loss of friction. He pulls back a little, pupils blown wide in his warm brown eyes as he watches how your face scrunches up in the most adorable way.

     “What’re you doing?” you ask him softly, locking your ankles behind his back as you wrap your legs around his waist. 

     Jiwoong presses his nose to your cheek. “Can I watch you?” The husky sound of his voice has your hole clenching around nothing, needing his fingers back on your pussy. Or even better, his cock.

     “Watch me?”

     He sucks in a small breath as you repeat his question. “Watch you feel good. Sometimes I get too lost in touching you and… I just want to see your face.” His hand intertwines with one of yours, slyly guiding it down to your wet cunt. “Please.” And how could you say no to that?

     You untangle your fingers with his, running them through your folds to gather the wetness Jiwoong had already produced by kissing your neck and playing with you a little. You swirl your juices around the little nub at the top of your pussy, sucking in a small breath at the feeling. Jiwoong’s hands soothingly run over your thighs.

     “There we go, just like that,” he whispers to you, his eyes stuck on yours. The sight of you like this has his dick hardening even more. The way your brows furrow, your pretty lips parted in a way that makes him want to kiss you senseless. So, he does. Jiwoong brushes his lips against yours as two of your fingers finally push into your pussy. 

     Your fingers don’t reach as far as his do, but it still feels good. Not as good as when he touches you, but still good. His tongue pressing against yours as your fingers press against the walls of your pussy helps that feeling in your gut grow though. When a whimper leaves you, Jiwoong pulls away.

     “You can cum, darling. I’m right here.”

      His eyes soak in the expression on your face as you cum, your mouth falling open in a silent cry and you’ve barely come down from your high when the thick head of Jiwoong’s cock is nudging against your entrance.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗ao ﹙𝔃.﹚

     Days like this were the hardest. The ones where you barely got to see Hao. He’d kissed you goodbye that morning while you were still asleep in bed to leave for an early schedule, and now it was already past eleven in the night and he still wasn't home. Usually, it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal to you. Sure, you would’ve missed him, but you would’ve survived. This time, though, you weren’t sure if you would. Because of course, you would be ovulating when he was gone.

     And it wasn’t that you couldn’t take care of yourself because before you got together with him, that was all you had: yourself. But now, used to him taking care of you, your own fingers just didn’t feel as good. Nowhere near the feeling that his precise, talented digits did as he would stretch you out while he would tease his lips over yours, God– You whine to yourself as you press your face further into the pillows of your bed, ass in the air as you fingered yourself from behind. Not only were you used to Hao’s fingers, but you technically weren’t supposed to be touching yourself without him. There was nothing toxic about the request, it was simply Hao wanting to be there whenever you were feeling good because he wanted to be the one making you feel good. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

     Not desperate enough, though, it seemed as you struggled to fall over the edge yet again. Tears of frustration leak onto the sheets as you press the heel of your palm against your clit, grinding down as you thrust the three fingers inside of you even harder. Right there, right there– “Keep rubbing your clit that hard and you’re never going to get off.” Your stomach drops. Hastily, you pull your fingers out of yourself to try and turn around to look at Hao only for his hand to tangle in your hair, forcing your face back into the pillows. 

     “Didn’t think I’d be coming home to a desperate slut. S’fine, though. You should keep going.” You falter. There was no way he was going to let you off this easily. “Come on, baby, I know you want to.”

     “I want you–”

     “Touch yourself, YN.” You weren’t going to argue with that. Slowly, your fingers go back to your sensitive clit, rubbing gently in the way Hao always does. Already, you feel close to cumming. It was simply the effect his presence had on you. “Were you fingering yourself from the back so you could pretend that I was here?” he coos into your ear and you moan in agreement. Hao chuckles, his hand slapping your ass softly. “No more pretending.”

     Your breaths come shorter now, more and more of them being moans as you get closer to cumming. Hao whispers words of encouragement into your ears and finally, when he permits you, you’re falling over the edge with your feet kicking weakly against the bed. 

     “I hope you enjoyed that,” Hao says even though you can barely hear him over the pleasure you’re feeling. “Because that’s the only orgasm you’re getting for the week.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗anbin ﹙𝓼.﹚

     “You did this to yourself, you know.” Hanbin’s voice has that teasing tone to it that it only adapts when you get yourself into situations like this. The ones where you’re in trouble. At least, that’s what your boyfriend liked to call it. You liked to think of it as unfair. Sure, you’d failed to let him know you weren’t going to be able to make it on time to your date that night, but it was because your phone had died. And that certainly wasn’t worth being denied the luxury of his touch. 

     Hanbin looked unreal standing at the foot of the bed: the sleeves of his white button-up rolled up to expose his forearms, black tie loose around his neck, and dark hair a mess as well. He looked like something out of your wet dreams and he wasn’t letting you touch him. You can’t help but huff as you bend your knees a little more, exposing your sopping pussy to his view. After returning home from the date, which had gone well apart from you being late, Hanbin had kissed you senseless (a distraction, you realize now) and had stripped you of your clothes. Expectantly, you had laid out on the covers, spreading your legs for him only for your boyfriend to stare down at you with a smirk. 

     “Make yourself cum first and then I’ll touch you.” His words still ring in your ears as you work two of your fingers in and out of your painfully horny cunt. The sounds of your wetness are the only thing breaking the silence, apart from your whimpers every now and then. It just wasn’t fair. Hanbin had gotten you used to his fingers, to his touch, and now, you couldn’t even get yourself off. Frustrated, one of your feet kicks out against the comforter. Hanbin coos softly, placing one of his knees on the edge of the bed as he watches you.

     “Can’t do it,” you whine, pushing in another finger and curling them, desperate to hit the spots that Hanbin knows so well. But you were spoiled, both of you knew it. That, and your fingers were too small. “Binnie, I can’t–”

     “Then I guess I’m not touching you tonight.” 

     You feel your eyes water at his words. “Please! M’sorry–”

     “Are you?” The condescending grin on his face sends another lick of warmth through your gut. God, you just couldn’t meet that final push. One of Hanbin’s large hands comes to rest on your lower belly as you increase the speed of your fingers. Even an innocent touch from him has you shuddering closer to your orgasm. “Say it again.”

     “I’m sorry, Binnie!” He shushes you softly, and you know you’ve finally broken through to him. “Please help me…” Hanbin sighs, his hand trailing down your body to your needy cunt. When his thumb taps your clit once, you’re falling over the edge. He lets you work yourself through your orgasm, his hand returning to your belly to keep you from squirming too much.   “Technically, that was cheating,” Hanbin chuckles as he grabs your wrist, pulling your fingers out of you. The wet pop has you feeling ready to go again already. What really does it though is Hanbin taking your fingers into his mouth, tasting your release on your fingers. “But you’re lucky I love you.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓜atthew ﹙𝓼.﹚

     “C’mon, baby, keep up,” Matthew practically whines, his body hovering above yours. His hand is wrapped tightly around his cock, moving his fist in a twisting motion as he jerks off. You can hardly focus on pleasuring yourself at the sight. When your boyfriend had first brought up the idea of mutual masturbation, you’d been curious, and you were willing to try almost anything with Matt. Plus, there was something so attractive about the idea of him making himself feel good. 

     But it was difficult to keep up with his wish of still finishing at the same time when he was acting so desperate. “Slow down, Matt. Y’gonna cum too fast.” He throws his head back with a groan, his hand barely slowing down over his length.

     “Move your fucking fingers faster then.”

     You would tell him off a little for that usually, but you’re too caught up in chasing your own release. Three of your fingers are pressed as deep into your pussy, trying to mimic the feeling of his thick cock as your other hand brushes circles on your clit. “Maybe if you weren’t so horny all of the time–” 

     Another one of Matthew’s moans cuts you off. “Thought this was a good idea but– Fuck, it’s just not the same.” His whines have you clenching around your fingers. The sounds of your sloppy pussy mix with the wetness of him stroking his dick and when you open your eyes, the look on Matthew’s face tells you that he’s struggling to hold on. “Wanna fuck you.”

     “M’almost there. You can wait.” But it looks like he really can’t. He leans back on his heels, his thumb running over the slit of his cock, spreading even more of his precum around as he watches some of your juices drip out of your hole. He slows his hand down, his tip a gorgeous dark red as he holds back. You curl your fingers, brushing against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 

     Thankfully, though, you keep your eyes open to watch as Matthew’s face matches yours in contorted pleasure. You work your fingers harder to try and get to the edge with Matthew. He’s holding on for you. His head drops back down again, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to control himself. “Can’t–” And then he’s cumming. Long, white ropes of his seed shoot out onto your pussy as you continue to fuck yourself with your fingers, some of it getting onto your hand and in turn, being fucked into your pussy by your own doing.

     The feeling of his cum hitting your clit though, along with his cum slipping along your folds has you falling over the edge shortly after him. To say the least, with how Matthew’s already hard again, you’ll definitely be doing this again.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓣aerae ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

     “Stop messing with me. The sooner you let me finish, the sooner we can spend time together.” You groan at your boyfriend’s words, standing next to him as you watch him game. His glasses are on his face, his light brown hair messy as he manspreads in a way that has your body practically vibrating with need. Against your better judgment, you reach for his hand working away on the keyboard again. Taerae’s hand leaves the keyboard, tightening around your wrist as he stands. 

     “Rae–” 

     “You’re bored, right? That’s why you keep asking for attention?” he asks as he pushes you over to your shared bed. He’d never handled you like this before. And the roughness was undeniably delicious. You let out another small whimper of his nickname as he forced you onto your back, spreading your knees apart and flipping your skirt up. “Then let’s play a game.”

     The tone of his voice has you soaking through your panties and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Taerae’s tongue presses against the side of his cheek as a small smile fights its way onto his face. “Take them off.”

     You pout. “But you do that for me.” His hand comes down on your thigh in a light smack, making you jolt. 

     “Not today. Take them off or you’re not getting anything from me for the rest of the week.” You huff, trying to act annoyed so he wouldn’t see how turned on you actually are. As if your sopping panties weren’t enough proof. A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you tuck your fingers in the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them off your legs. That feeling remains as you part your thighs again, revealing your wet entrance and swollen clit. You wait for Taerae to touch you. He doesn’t. “Touch yourself.” You move quickly to comply with him, wanting to get what you want: his touch.

     You bring two of your fingers up to your lips, wetting them before bringing them down to your clit. Your eyes never leave his as you slowly rub circles around the hardened bundle of nerves. A small moan escapes your throat in an almost teasing manner, wanting to taunt him to show him that you didn’t need him to feel good. In fact, just by rubbing your clit, you can feel that knot tightening in your abdomen. A whisper of his name leaves you and you’re right there– But nothing happens. 

     You don’t let it bother you, though, proceeding to trail your fingers down to your cunt and pushing two in immediately. A fast pace is set and you feel like you’ve been sent back to before you were dating Taerae: getting yourself off to the thought of him. Except, he was right there in front of you, watching. The wet sound of your cunt fills the room and your whines do as well as you struggle to fall over the edge yet again. With another pat on your thigh, Taerae moves away from the bed much to your dismay to sit back down at his desk. If it weren’t for the large bulge in his sweatpants, you’d think he was unaffected. 

     “Make yourself cum and I’ll stop playing my game to play with you.” Taerae lets out a small laugh as he hears you whimper. In your frustrated mind, you notice how he leaves his headphones off. He wants to hear you. “That is, if you can make yourself cum.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓡icky ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

     “Can we please stop fighting…” you whisper, keeping your legs spread for your boyfriend to see the mess between your legs. “Haven’t made me cum in days. Need you so bad…” Ricky’s eyes don’t leave yours despite the sight of you spread out so lewdly in front of him. He shifts closer, looking down at you as you lean back against the pillows. 

     “Are you sorry?” You nod eagerly. Your breath catches in your throat as Ricky tucks his head into your neck, his nose running along the expanse of your skin before settling next to your ear. “Prove it.” He punctuates the command with a small kiss on your earlobe. Then, he’s settling back on the bed. It takes you a moment to understand what he means, but when you do, your hand is instantly flying to your pussy.

     “I’ll do whatever you want,” you breathe, petting over your cunt to spread the wetness around and to get ready to try and make yourself cum without Ricky’s help. You always struggled to get off without him and you were hoping that having him right in front of you would be enough to finish. 

     Ricky chuckles. “Do whatever I want? Or do whatever you need to to cum?”

     You can’t help but roll your eyes a little at his words, fingers finally settling on your clit, moving slowly. Finally, Ricky’s eyes go to where you’re playing with yourself. He loves the way you take your time, drawing out your pleasure to put on a show for him since you know how much it turns him on to see you slowly build up to that release. Usually, he likes to give you that relief himself, but you had to work for it tonight.

     “Just want you to touch me. Missed it so bad and I’m sorry–”

     “Then make yourself cum.” His voice has a tone of finality and you increase the pressure on your clit. A sense of determination begins to settle in you–one to get him to cave in before you do. You were sorry, but you needed him more than anything. 

     “Ricky,” you moan, grinding your hips down against your fingers to try and give yourself even more friction. It was just difficult with smaller fingers. Thankfully, though, you see the way he visibly tenses as you whine his name. He’s holding himself back and the thought has you smiling a little. “Please…”

     Your fingers go to your cunt, pushing one inside. Then another. You curl them, brushing against those spots that always get you to fall over the edge. “You’re close.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. And Ricky can tell by the expression on your face, the way you’re creaming around your fingers, and how he wishes it was his dick instead. “Go ahead, then, since you’ve been waiting all week.” With his permission, you’re falling over the edge instantly. But before you can enjoy the high, Ricky’s taking hold of your wrist, pulling your fingers out of you and ruining your orgasm. 

      “Didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖yuvin ﹙𝓴.﹚

     “Get out!” Your thighs snap together, desperate to hide your most private area as Gyuvin slaps his hands over his eyes. But he doesn’t move. “Out, Gyuvin! Now!”

     “A-Are you–”

     Frustrated at being unable to release, you can’t focus on the usual embarrassment you would feel at your best friend walking in on you in such a state. You keep your legs closed as Gyuvin slowly lowers his hand from his eyes. “Stop!” 

     “Right! Right! Sorry!” But his hand doesn’t go back over his eyes. Instead, he just lowers them. “Um… But are you like,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “Are you like, okay? You’ve been up here for a while.” Your mouth almost falls open at his audacity. Did this not bother him? Why wasn’t he running out of here? You would’ve if you’d walked in on him getting himself off.

     You falter for a moment. “I’m fine.” And then you catch his eyes lingering on your legs. “What’re you looking at?” His brown doe eyes widen in surprise at being caught and you sigh. “I’m… struggling, okay?”

     Gyuvin hesitates for a moment and then: “Want me to help?”

     Moments later, you already feel the closest you’ve felt to cumming all night as Gyuvin sits at the edge of the bed, guiding you with his words. Two of your fingers are curled against your walls, searching for that spot that makes you see stars as your juices gush out around your knuckles. A result of Gyuvin’s words. “Play with your nipples too, pretty,” he whispers, like if he talks any louder the tension-charged atmosphere would break. Hastily, your free hand goes to your tits, squeezing your nipples through the tank top you’re wearing. “Fuck, wish I could touch you…”

     If it weren’t for how close you were to cumming, his words would make you stop, but you just can’t. This man sitting in front of you was your best friend, yes, but he was also the man you were in love with. That was the only reason you’d let him help you with this in the first place. “Listen to that cute cunt. She wants to cum so bad, hmm?”

     “Yes!” you gasp out, increasing the pace of your fingers as you roll one of your tightened nipples between your fingers. “I need you– I want you–”

     “Don’t say that,” Gyuvin gets out between his teeth, one of his hands coming to press against his dick, trying to ease the pressure he’s feeling as his cock strains against his sweatpants. “Don’t say that unless you’re ready to be mine.” His words have you moaning. “Rub your clit.” You’re quick to listen, your hand on your tits going down to your pussy, circling the bud with your middle finger.

     “Gyu–”

     “Do it,” he murmurs, knowing what you’re about to ask. And then your body is tensing, riding out the intense waves of your orgasm and crying out his name. By the time the last of your high fades, you’re panting softly. You shift against the bed, noticing how Gyuvin hasn’t made any moves to leave. “Did you mean what you said earlier?” he asks, voice low. You know what he’s referencing, so you nod. And thank goodness you truly were ready for him considering the way his mouth finds yours in a matter of seconds.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖unwook ﹙𝓹.﹚

     Figuring out your relationship with Gunwook had been easy. When the two of you first got together, everything felt so natural. He had slipped into your life and you into his effortlessly, like you were always meant to be with each other. Morning routines and favorite foods and little sayings special to just the two of you came to the both of you easily, and from there, your relationship only strengthened. 

     Sex, though, was still something the two of you were figuring out.

     Your face feels warm as you keep your legs spread for Gunwook, your fingers spreading your folds a little before you begin gathering the wetness that’s been gathering at your entrance. When he’d suggested you show him what you liked, you’d initially been apprehensive, but as you thought about it more, you concluded that it couldn’t hurt anything. In fact, maybe it could end in something more.

     And you had a feeling that it would by the way his eyes wouldn’t leave where you were spread open for him. “So I just… um, usually play with my clit first,” you breathe softly, trying to get over the slight nerves you’re feeling. Gunwook’s hand comes up to rest on your thigh, his eyes trailing up your body to meet your eyes.

     “Are you sure you’re okay with this? It’s what you want?”

     Your heart melts a little at his concern and you can’t help the tiny smile. “I’m sure.” And then, your fingers are slowly beginning to swirl around the bundle of nerves at the top of your pussy. A breath leaves you as you feel your walls weakly contract, the element of him watching making your senses feel heightened. Gunwook’s fingers tense on your thigh like he’s trying to hold himself back. His eyes dart back down to the apex of your thighs. 

     “And I don’t like it too fast… You’ll have to take your time,” you whisper, lazily playing with yourself to build up the tension in your gut until it snaps deliciously. Gunwook nods almost dumbly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. You relax further, realizing that he is really into this. “When I’m wet enough, I start fucking myself.” 

     Two of your fingers slide against your entrance, circling around before pushing inside. You drop your head back with a small moan, enjoying the stretch. You couldn’t help but think about what it would feel like to finally have his thick fingers inside of you. Or his huge cock. He’d gotten hard when you’d been making out before and you’d felt how large he was. Hell, you could see it straining against his sweatpants as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 

     It almost felt like a power trip with how Gunwook couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, small moans leaving you as you neared the edge. And when you breathe his name, in that soft way that he’s been dreaming of for so long, signaling your orgasm, Gunwook can’t hold back any longer. He’s pushing your hand away and replacing it with his before you can even come down.

[themunflower]

How We Got Here: Part Three

Kouign-Amann: "Hey. Are you still up?"

Capsaicin: "Yeah. I haven't been sleepin' too well since… Well, you know."

Kouign-Amann: "They're holding his funeral without his body present. They've been trying to figure out what the Hell happened to him, but it's hard to run any tests, because the only thing left of him is abnormally hard sugar. Everyone's stumped."

Capsaicin: "I kind of expected that. It's morbid to say, but… I don't think there's any way they could fit him in a coffin like that… "

Kouign-Amann: "Morbid, but you're right. The only thing they have figured out is that he was apparently suffering from the flu. He'd warned his teachers he was too sick to come to class for a while, his doctor confirmed he came in suspecting he might have the flu the day before that. He also had filled a prescription for a few extra-strength fever reducers."

Capsaicin: "Think it could have been the pills?"

Kouign-Amann: "Nope. That was the first thing they tested. The pills were ruled out."

Capsaicin: "Sucks that they can't really tell us anything else, since we don't know if this even was a freak accident. I've heard some whispers about campus police starting to suspect a really bizarre murder involving a sabotaged potion."

Kouign-Amann: "I saw a bunch of his potion ingredients were used up, but I don't think we should assume murder just yet. I mean… How would you even DO something like this?"

Capsaicin: "S'what I was thinking. Plus, his doors and windows were locked from the inside. Nearly all his food was gone. I get the feeling he knew something was wrong, just not HOW wrong…

Kouign-Amann: "… "

Capsaicin: "Are you okay?"

Kouign-Amann: "I'm sorry, I just… I don't like thinking about the possibility that he suffered something like… THAT… all alone. And the fact that the sugar was starting to disintegrate into the air like that… How long had it been? I… I'm gonna be honest, I've been having nightmares about what we saw…"

Capsaicin: "… "

Kouign-Amann: "Ah, S-sorry. Didn't mean to upset you. Well, more than we both already are. It's not helping that on top of everything else, I've felt off for the past couple of days. I think I might have actually worried myself sick."

Capsaicin: "Maybe take some time off? The headmaster here already offered me time away from classes."

Kouign-Amann: "Same here. I'm probably gonna take him up on the offer. I couldn't focus this morning during swordsmanship practice."

Capsaicin: "I can come stay with you if you need me to."

Kouign-Amann: "… I think I would appreciate that, yes."

Capsaicin: "I'll let the headmaster know where I'm going tomorrow. Right now, I think we both need some sleep."

Kouign-Amann: "I'll try, but no promises, haha… "

Capsaicin: "Good night, Kouign."

Kouign-Amann: "G'night."

.

...

... ...

... ... ...

... ... ... ... ...

They had no way of knowing what they were about to unleash on the world…

INTRODUCTION END.

----------

INTRO COMIC COMPLETE!

I'm gonna buy myself pizza, drinks, and breadsticks tonight to celebrate, HELL YEAH!

Also, another official announcement, since @magicalkaite20 has been helping me write the AU over on Discord, she's officially a co-author on this AU!

GOOD SWEET FUCK THIS WAS LONG… And the insane thing? The original draft was longer. But because I'm not a fan of permanent tendon damage and I go insane from stir-craziness if I can't get out on my bike at least a couple times a week, I revised my script a few times to get it to a do-able length. Yes, I actually wrote out a whole-ass script for all of this before I even started drawing.

This wound up being trickier than expected, because it's hard to make a convo between two characters over a video call NOT be visually boring. I tried, lol

Had to darken that last panel in Firealpaca because my scanner is ass and just LOVES to wash out my art when there's a lotta black. :( It also loves de-saturating the fuck out of artwork if there's multiple shades of one color. Good GOD I need to replace that…

Anyway, I'ma rest mah wrists for a day or two before I start drawing more for this AU. In the mean time, now would be the time to ask questions about it if you have 'em. Just a heads up, I might not be able to answer some questions fully or at all due to spoilers. I'll still answer to let you know you'll hafta wait on that.

[shaiyasstuff]

a dance of ice and fire | zayne | chapter four

synopsis : Betrothed to the Crown Prince for the sake of peace, you are seen as a weapon to be wielded, not a queen to rule. But it is not your arrogant, power-hungry fiancé you fear—it is his brother, Zayne. Once indifferent to the throne, Zayne now moves with purpose, his quiet defiance and lingering glances far more dangerous than any war. As alliances shift and tensions rise, one truth becomes clear: he never wanted the crown, but for you, he will take it

content : medieval!au, strategist/advisor!zayne x princess!reader, reader is also future empress consort, arranged marriage!au, elemental!au, forbidden love, maybe a touch of angst if i’m feeling it, loads of eye-fucking, savage reader and zayne, political intrigue

writer’s note : herroww we actually made it far! Anyways, as I was writing I realised that I should develop more on the crown prince instead of having him be an ass just for plot ykyk (I’ve decided to name him Kael because, well, Kael is kinda a cool name? And idk LOL) anyways, this one is also for my lovelies @regalillegal @sugarphoric I hope I delivered with this chapter too >.<

parts | one | two | three | four

It had been years ago.

Before the crown had weight. Before your name became a weapon sharpened by politics and prophecy.

Back when it was just you and him.

And the ruins.

They lay hidden beyond the palace gardens, carved into the edge of the hillside, mostly forgotten.

The walls were half-crumbling, the stone sun-bleached and cracked, but what remained still whispered of something old.

Something once sacred.

The scent of nightshade lingered in the air, woven into the roots that had pushed their way through the stone.

You remembered it vividly—not because it was sweet, but because it wasn’t. It was dark, earthy, bitter on the inhale.

It smelled like secrets.

And it had always led you back here.

You had shed your royal shoes the moment you’d arrived, letting your toes press into the warm moss-streaked ground.

The hem of your training robes trailed after you like a flicker of smoke.

Across the ruin, Zayne leaned against a broken archway, arms crossed, gaze trailing lazily over the horizon.

The wind caught at his silver-threaded cloak, tugging at it like it too was trying to pull him toward you.

He was already watching.

He always had.

“You’re supposed to be in etiquette drills,” he said without looking.

You lit a flame in your palm instead of answering.

He glanced at you then, and his mouth curved, just barely.

“You never listen.”

“And you never leave.”

You both knew why.

You sat on a fractured column, letting the flame dance up your wrist, curling like ribbon. The heat felt good—not wild, not violent.

Just honest. Uncontrolled.

“They keep telling me it’s dangerous,” you said. “Too unpredictable. Too emotional. Fire doesn’t belong in courtrooms and council halls.”

Zayne tilted his head slightly.

“Then they’ve never stood in your fire long enough to understand it.”

You looked at him then, really looked.

He was always so composed.

A breath behind the moment.

A man made of shadows and stillness, constantly watching, always calculating.

And yet here—he was different.

Here, he let his silence be something other than armor.

“How long have we been coming here?” you asked.

Zayne didn’t answer right away. His gaze drifted toward the cracked arch behind you, half-eaten by ivy and time.

“Since before you learned to summon flame without flinching.”

You smiled faintly. “You always flinched first.”

“I was being cautious,” he replied, mouth curving. “You were a walking inferno with no sense of direction.”

“And you were a ghost who never said anything real.”

That made him pause. He glanced at you, then away, as if the truth weighed heavier in this place.

You held your hand out between you, the flame floating above your palm like a promise.

Zayne hesitated.

The wind rustled the moss at your feet. Birds stirred high in the trees. Your heart thudded like it had the first time you’d let your magic slip free in front of him. No titles. No tutors. Just you and the boy who never ran.

Then—he raised his hand.

Frost bloomed along his fingers, delicate, spiraling. The air between your hands warped, where fire met cold.

You braced for resistance. For steam. For fight.

But it never came.

The flame leaned into the frost. The frost curled toward the flame.

Not battling. Balanced.

Steam rose in gentle spirals. The warmth of your magic kissed the sharp chill of his and became something entirely new.

Not fusion. Not conflict.

Just… coexistence.

“How?” you asked softly. “How are you not afraid?”

Zayne’s eyes met yours. “Because I’ve never seen your fire as a threat.”

He dropped his hand slowly, frost fading from his skin. But you still felt it—that moment lingering in the space between you.

That rare, impossible stillness.

The kind you only find once.

The kind that leaves a mark.

You turned away from the magic, suddenly too aware of your heartbeat, the flush in your chest.

“They want me to be something I’m not.”

Zayne was quiet. Then: “Then be something they’ve never seen.”

You looked at him over your shoulder, and he was already walking away, steps slow, cloak dragging through the wild grass.

He didn’t wait for your reply.

He didn’t have to.

He had already seen you for who you were, long before the crown ever did.

Years later, when the empire began to splinter beneath the weight of fear and ambition, you would think of that moment—

Of fire and frost and steam rising between your palms.

Of the scent of nightshade and dusk.

Of the one boy who never moved.

And you would know.

This was never about magic.

It was about recognition.

About a boy who saw your fire and didn’t run.

And a girl who finally realized she never needed to burn alone.

—•

The eastern wing of the palace was quieter now. After the court had fractured, certain halls were left empty—not abandoned, but avoided.

As if silence could smother the tension that had begun to pulse through every stone of the empire.

You walked those halls anyway.

Not because you didn’t feel the shift—but because you no longer feared it.

Zayne had sent for you. No formal summons, no herald.

Just a folded slip of parchment left at your chamber door, sealed with his signet and a single word in his handwriting.

Come.

You found him waiting in one of the old council rooms—unused, tucked deep in the wing reserved for visiting nobles, away from the eyes of the court.

The fire was lit. The chairs had been dusted. But the air still smelled of old wood and parchment and secrets long since buried.

Zayne stood with one hand braced on the edge of the map table, posture deceptively casual.

He glanced up as you entered, expression unreadable.

“He’ll be here soon.”

You didn’t need to ask who.

“You’ve already spoken to him.”

Zayne didn’t deny it. “Briefly. Just enough to make him curious.”

You stepped closer, circling the table, eyes scanning the map spread across it. Lines redrawn. Borders bristling with new names.

“And now you want me to convince him?”

Zayne looked at you then, and his voice dropped. “No. I want him to see why the court is watching you and not my brother.”

Before you could reply, the door creaked open.

A tall man stepped inside—middle-aged, his silver-and-black robes worn with the kind of pride only old blood still carried. House Velithar.

One of the most ancient noble lines in the empire, known for neutrality, tradition, and power held behind closed doors.

Lord Thalos.

He inclined his head to Zayne first, but when his eyes landed on you, he paused.

Studying.

Measuring.

You met his gaze without flinching. “Lord Velithar.”

“Your Highness,” he replied smoothly. “I expected to be speaking with the prince alone.”

Zayne’s smirk was almost imperceptible. “That would’ve been a waste of your time.”

Thalos raised a brow. “No faith in your own diplomacy?”

“Plenty.” Zayne stepped back from the table, gesturing toward you. “But she’s the reason the court is shifting. I’m just moving the pieces.”

Your gaze didn’t leave Thalos. “I hear your house has remained neutral since the fractures began.”

He gave a tight smile. “Neutrality is a tradition in my bloodline, Your Highness. Until there’s cause.”

You stepped forward.

“Then I hope to give you one.”

The air in the room shifted. Tension—not of conflict, but of gravity.

Because this wasn’t just a meeting.

This was Zayne placing the next piece on the board. And he was trusting you to make the move.

The room’s atmosphere thickened, the weight of unspoken possibilities pressing against the walls.

Lord Thalos’s gaze remained steady, his expression a mask of practiced neutrality.

“A cause, Your Highness,” he echoed, voice smooth yet edged with curiosity. “And what cause might that be?”

You met his eyes, unflinching.

“The empire stands at a precipice. The current path leads to division, to ruin. But there’s an alternative—a united realm under just and visionary leadership.”

Thalos’s brow arched slightly. “And you propose this leadership comes from…?”

“From those who understand the true essence of power,” you replied, your tone unwavering.

“Power that doesn’t seek to dominate but to uplift. Power that listens, adapts, and leads with wisdom.”

A long pause followed. Thalos’s eyes drifted to the map table between you, the lines and markers etched into its surface like scars.

“Many have spoken of unity. Few have achieved it. Fewer still without bloodshed.”

You stepped closer, lowering your voice.

“Because they sought obedience, not loyalty. Fear, not trust. That is not the empire I want to inherit. And it’s not one the people will survive.”

Zayne’s presence shifted behind you—silent, supportive.

“I know House Velithar has never been hasty. You hold your ground when others sway with the wind. But that same ground has become a fulcrum. Where you choose to lean will tip the balance of the court.”

Thalos studied you again, longer this time. Not just as a royal. Not even as a politician. But as something else.

“You speak like someone who knows what comes next,” he said at last.

“I don’t,” you admitted.

“But I know what we must avoid. Civil war. Fragmentation. Another generation raised in the shadow of suspicion.”

You let the next words fall softly.

“Your house has kept the peace for centuries by staying out of the storm. But now the storm is here. Silence will no longer shield you—it will condemn those who trusted you to stand when it mattered most.”

A silence settled over the room, heavy and reverent. The hearth crackled softly, the only sound in the hush of what felt like a turning point.

Thalos’s gaze shifted between you and Zayne. “You ask much.”

“I offer more,” you said quietly. “A future.”

Finally, Thalos inclined his head, the motion slow but deliberate. “Then show me that future. Let it be more than words. And House Velithar will not stand idle.”

Zayne’s voice cut in, quiet but sure. “You won’t regret it.”

Thalos looked toward the door, thoughtful.

“History remembers those who chose wisely… but it never forgets those who waited too long.”

With a final nod, he turned and left the room.

The alliance was tentative, but it was a spark—a beginning. And in the quiet corners of the palace, amidst shadows and whispers, the foundation of a new era was being laid.

The heavy wooden door closed behind Lord Thalos, leaving the room cloaked in the soft glow of the hearth.

The scent of aged parchment and burning cedar filled the space, mingling with the subtle tension that lingered after the noble’s departure.

Zayne leaned against the edge of the map table, arms crossed, a contemplative expression shadowing his features.

But you didn’t speak right away.

You let the silence stretch.

Because this was more than a victory. It was the first time someone outside of Zayne had truly listened.

You moved toward the map, fingers brushing the edge of its wooden frame, grounding yourself.

There had been a time—not long ago—when your voice barely left an echo in council chambers. When you were spoken around, not to.

A royal, yes, but an ornamental one.

A symbol of unity with no real weight.

And perhaps you’d played into that role at first. It was easier, quieter, safer to keep your fire hidden.

But Zayne had seen it. That day in the ruins.

He hadn’t flinched.

He hadn’t tried to mold you into someone you weren’t.

And that moment, fleeting and fragile as it had been, had planted something deep in your chest.

A belief that your voice didn’t just deserve to be heard—it could change the world.

You looked at the place where Thalos had stood, still feeling the weight of his gaze.

He hadn’t pledged himself to the crown.

He’d pledged himself to you.

Not because of your title.

But because of your truth.

And perhaps—because of your family, too.

You had been born to a line of queens known not for war, but for sacrifice.

Women who bore the burden of peace without recognition.

Your mother had died young, her name barely spoken anymore—except in whispers, when someone remembered the treaties she’d kept from shattering.

But it wasn’t just her legacy you carried.

Your grandmother, Queen Eira who had once halted an uprising not with blades, but with a single speech that moved enemy generals to lay down arms.

Her words had been studied, recited, feared by those who thought emotion was weakness.

You’d read her journals in secret as a child, tracing your fingers over the faded ink as though it might pass her strength into you.

Yet despite that bloodline, you had never been raised to lead.

Not truly.

Your father had remarried within months of your mother’s death, wedding a noblewoman whose family controlled a vast swath of the western provinces. It had been a strategic alliance—cold, practical, distant.

From then on, you were a reminder. A relic of a union born of love in a court that now had no time for sentiment.

The new queen had children of her own.

The court whispered of succession changes, of heirs with purer bloodlines, better manners, less flame.

But you remembered your mother’s fire. You remembered the echo of your grandmother’s voice in the walls of the old library.

You remembered who you were before they tried to make you forget.

You weren’t just a symbol.

You were the storm they didn’t see coming.

And you would not carry their legacy in silence any longer.

In court, you had learned early.

Affection came with conditions. Approval came with silence.

Fire was dangerous.

But you were done dimming yourself to survive.

You would rise—not in spite of your fire, but because of it.

And anyone who dared stand in your way would learn what it meant to be forged by flame.

You could see the flicker of thoughts behind his eyes, calculating the next move in this intricate game of power and allegiance.

“Well,” you began, breaking the silence, “that went… better than expected.”

A corner of Zayne’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Thalos is a pragmatist. Appeal to his sense of legacy, and he’ll listen.”

You nodded, tracing a finger along the edge of the map. “Still, aligning with House Velithar is a significant step. It sends a message.”

“Agreed,” Zayne replied, pushing off from the table. “Which is why we should consider our next ally carefully.”

He moved to a nearby cabinet, retrieving a decanter of amber liquid and two crystal glasses. Pouring a measure into each, he handed one to you.

“To new alliances,” he toasted, raising his glass.

You clinked your glass against his, the sound crisp in the quiet room. “And to the challenges they’ll bring.”

Zayne took a sip, his gaze thoughtful over the rim. “I’ve been considering Lord Aelric of House Draven.”

You nearly choked on your drink, coughing slightly. “Aelric? The same Aelric who once challenged a visiting ambassador to a duel over a misplaced compliment?”

Zayne’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“The very same. Though, to be fair, the ambassador did have a rather condescending tone.”

“And Aelric responded by nearly skewering him in the grand hall,” you retorted, shaking your head. “He’s unpredictable, Zayne. A loose cannon.”

Zayne shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Perhaps. But he’s also fiercely loyal to those he deems worthy. And his influence among the younger nobles is considerable.”

“Influence or infamy?” you quipped, arching an eyebrow.

He chuckled softly. “Sometimes, they’re one and the same.”

You sighed, swirling the liquid in your glass. “Approaching Aelric means courting chaos. Are we prepared for that?”

“Chaos can be a powerful tool,” Zayne mused, his tone turning serious. “If directed correctly.”

You studied him for a moment, recognizing the familiar spark of strategy in his demeanor. “You have a plan.”

“I always have a plan,” he replied, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Care to share?” you prompted, leaning against the table beside him.

He tilted his head, considering.

“Let’s just say, Aelric’s… enthusiasm could be harnessed to our advantage. With the right guidance.”

“And you believe we can provide that guidance?”

“I believe,” Zayne said, his gaze locking onto yours, “that together, we can turn even the wildest storms into favorable winds.”

A smile curved your lips. “Ever the optimist.”

“Only when it comes to you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

The warmth in his eyes sent a flutter through your chest, a reminder of the bond that had grown between you amidst the political machinations and looming threats.

Setting your glass down, you straightened.

“Very well. Let’s prepare for a meeting with Lord Aelric. But perhaps,” you added with a teasing glint, “we should remove any dueling weapons from the room beforehand.”

Zayne laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “An excellent precaution.”

As the fire crackled beside you, the two of you delved into planning, the weight of the empire’s future resting on your shoulders, yet buoyed by the unspoken understanding and shared resolve that had always defined your partnership.

Later that night, you found him in the old observatory.

The room was quiet, lit only by the moon spilling in through shattered glass. He stood at the far edge, hands clasped behind his back, posture still—like he was carved from the dark.

He didn’t turn when you entered.

You didn’t announce yourself. You simply watched.

Zayne was always composed. Always precise.

But here, with no audience, no roles to play, you saw the crack in the armor. The quiet tension in his shoulders. The way his jaw clenched just slightly when he exhaled.

He carried so much.

Not the weight of expectation, like Kael.

But the weight of knowing where all the pieces on the board would fall—and when he’d have to let some of them break.

You wondered if anyone else ever noticed.

If anyone else had ever stood in the dark and realized he wasn’t just a strategist.

He was a shield. A blade. A boy who learned to stay quiet so no one would ever hear him break.

He turned then, just enough to glance your way. “You should be resting.”

“So should you.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re too far in for rest now.”

You didn’t step closer. You didn’t have to.

He knew you saw him.

And for once, that seemed to be enough.

—•

The imperial study was a sanctuary of order and tradition—mahogany shelves lined with ancient tomes, the scent of parchment lingering in the air, and the soft glow of afternoon light filtering through ornate lattice windows.

Yet, today, the atmosphere was charged.

Crown Prince Kael stood rigid before the Emperor’s desk, his fists clenched at his sides.

“You summoned me.”

The Emperor didn’t look up from the parchment in his hand.

“I did.”

A pause.

Kael waited, jaw tightening.

“Well?”

Finally, the Emperor set the page aside. “Your behavior at the council meeting—unacceptable.”

“They insulted our house,” Kael snapped. “What was I supposed to do? Let them slander us in front of half the court?”

“Yes,” the Emperor said evenly. “You let fools reveal themselves. You don’t raise your voice—you raise your station.”

Kael took a step forward, voice lowering. “So I should’ve just stood there? Let them undermine everything we’ve worked for?”

“We?” The Emperor’s tone cooled.

“You’ve been ruling in theory, Kael. Not practice. This court bleeds power in glances and implication, not threats and bluster.”

Kael’s nostrils flared. “So this is about Zayne, then.”

“Zayne knows when to hold his tongue.”

“He never has to speak,” Kael shot back. “You listen anyway.”

A flicker crossed the Emperor’s face—brief, unreadable. “Because he understands diplomacy.”

“And I don’t?”

“You understand fire,” the Emperor said. “But fire consumes.”

Kael’s voice rose. “I’ve trained. I’ve led. I’ve done everything required of me, and still—”

“Still you act like a boy begging for praise,” the Emperor interrupted, voice like steel. “You are the Crown Prince. Act like one.”

The silence afterward rang like a slap.

Kael straightened slowly. “Tell me something, Father. If Zayne had spoken as I did—would you have reprimanded him?”

The Emperor met his eyes. “Zayne would not have needed to.”

Kael’s throat tightened. “Then perhaps you should’ve named him heir.”

The Emperor stood, slow and deliberate. “Don’t mistake restraint for weakness, Kael. Or silence for approval.”

Kael gave a cold, short laugh. “I don’t mistake anything anymore.”

The Emperor exhaled. “This discussion is over.”

Kael bowed stiffly, voice low. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

And then he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a final, echoing thud.

The Crown Prince’s encounter with the Emperor left him seething, his father’s unwavering support for Zayne a bitter pill to swallow.

The corridors of the palace seemed to close in around him, each step echoing his growing resentment.

In the dim light of his private chambers, Kael paced relentlessly, his thoughts a turbulent storm.

“Always Zayne,” he muttered, the name dripping with disdain. “The perfect son. The flawless strategist.”

He stared at his reflection in the glass—sharp eyes, clenched jaw, shoulders weighed down by expectation.

“And what am I?” he whispered. “The heir in name only.”

He had trained all his life for this.

Worn the crown’s shadow on his back like a brand.

Sat through a thousand council sessions, led war games, made sacrifices—yet none of it seemed to matter.

Not when Zayne entered a room with his quiet confidence, his calculating grace. Not when their father’s gaze lingered just a little longer on him.

Kael’s fists clenched at his sides.

Zayne didn’t even want the throne. That was the worst of it.

He walked through politics like a ghost, never seeking power—only wielding it when it suited him. He made no grand declarations, offered no passionate speeches.

And somehow… that made people trust him more.

Because Zayne didn’t have to try.

And Kael had always been trying.

He remembered being ten, standing beside their father during a state ceremony. Zayne had barely spoken, just bowed at the right time, his silence elegant.

Kael had memorized three speeches, practiced his lines until his throat was raw—and still, the Emperor had only praised Zayne’s restraint.

“A true ruler knows when not to speak.”

The words had haunted him since.

Kael ran a hand through his hair, the weight of years pressing in.

His failures weren’t just his own—they were magnified, repeated, measured against a brother who never seemed to falter.

“If Father cannot see my worth,” Kael said aloud, voice shaking with fury, “perhaps it’s time I show him.”

A dangerous thought curled in his chest.

Not impulsive. Not this time.

Deliberate.

Zayne played the long game, moved pieces in silence.

Maybe it was time Kael made a move no one could ignore.

Maybe then, the empire would finally remember who the true heir was.

—•

The chamber was dimly lit, the flickering light of the hearth casting elongated shadows on the stone walls.

A heavy oak table dominated the center, its surface strewn with maps, parchments, and the remnants of a hastily concluded meal.

The scent of wax and aged wood mingled in the air, a testament to the room’s long-standing role as a clandestine meeting place for the realm’s strategists.

Seated around the table were four figures, each bearing the weight of their titles and the gravity of the moment.

You, the empire’s guiding light, sat at the head, your gaze steady and contemplative.

To your right, Zayne, ever the vigilant strategist, leaned forward, his fingers lightly drumming on the table’s edge.

Opposite him, Lord Thalos of House Velithar maintained his characteristic poise, his expression inscrutable.

Beside him, Lord Varyn of House Draven, a man known for his fiery temperament and unyielding loyalty, shifted impatiently in his seat.

“We stand at a crossroads,” you began, your voice cutting through the silence. “The empire’s stability teeters, and our next actions will determine its fate.”

Lord Varyn’s brow furrowed, his impatience evident. “Then let us act decisively. The longer we wait, the more our enemies consolidate their power.”

Zayne interjected smoothly,

“Decisiveness without strategy is folly, Lord Varyn. We must ensure that each move is calculated.”

Thalos’s gaze shifted between the two, “What, then, is our proposed course of action?”

You unfolded a map, revealing marked locations—strongholds, supply routes, and key territories.

“Our first objective is to secure the allegiance of the borderlands. Their support will bolster our resources and strategic positioning.”

Varyn’s eyes narrowed, “The borderlands are rife with dissent. Their loyalty is fickle.”

“Precisely why we must act,” you replied. “By addressing their grievances and offering protection, we can turn them to our cause.”

Thalos nodded thoughtfully, “And what of the Crown Prince? His recent actions suggest unpredictability.”

Zayne’s expression darkened slightly, “Kael’s recklessness is a concern. We must anticipate his moves and be prepared to counter them.”

A tense silence settled over the group, each member lost in their thoughts. The weight of the empire’s future pressed heavily upon their shoulders.

“We must remain united,” you asserted, your voice firm. “Our strength lies in our cohesion and shared vision for the empire.”

The lords exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing among them.

“For the empire,” Thalos affirmed.

“For the empire,” Varyn echoed.

Zayne’s gaze met yours, a subtle nod conveying his unwavering support.

“For the empire,” he murmured.

As the meeting adjourned, the flickering flames of the hearth cast dancing shadows on the walls, mirroring the uncertain path that lay ahead.

But with allies such as these, hope remained—a beacon in the encroaching darkness.

The council chamber had emptied, leaving only the soft glow of candlelight flickering against the stone walls. You stood by the window, gazing out at the moonlit courtyard, your thoughts drifting to the upcoming challenges.

Zayne approached quietly, his presence a comforting constant amidst the uncertainties.

“When do we meet Lord Aelric?” you asked, turning to face him.

Zayne’s eyes met yours, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Soon. I’ve sent a discreet message to gauge his interest. If he’s receptive, we’ll arrange a meeting within the week.”

You nodded, appreciating his careful approach. “Good. His support could be pivotal.”

Zayne’s expression turned thoughtful. “Indeed. But we must tread carefully. Aelric is known for his unpredictability.”

“Then we’ll ensure our proposal appeals to his sense of honor and ambition,” you replied, determination in your voice.

Zayne’s smile widened. “As always, your insight guides us.”

Together, you turned back to the window, the weight of the empire’s future resting on your shoulders, yet buoyed by the strength of your alliance.

[thedevilsoftruth]

Rules are meant to be broken.

B. Barnes x f! Reader

" Break the rules of this game. Touch, touch, touch yourself. "

Summary: After a few years of mutual pining, your relationship with Bucky can't seem to get to where you both want it to because of Tonys strict " no dating policy " until a prank is pulled on both of you by one of your fellow avengers at a beach vacation.

Tags: Mentions of alcohol, vulgar language, rom com, sexual references/humor, kind of cliche stuff, sex, smut, Bucky being a smart ass 90% of this fic and fighting everyone, mutual pining, also slightly Russian accent Bucky, Dom! Bucky, vaginal fingering, piv sex, lots and lots of kissing, edgeplay, mentions of the reader having an idu and cognitive symmastia. Not beta read!

Song Recommended: Compress/Repress by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

A/n: This fic was requested by the lovely @0-komori-0 and also turned out to be over 9k words!!! So much more than I had planned. ( I hope you really enjoy this, man I haven't written anything this long in a very long time 😭🙏 ) I've been really insecure about my writing lately, and i actually kind of hate this fic like a lot. But I'm praying to God that this isn't as bad as I think. Anyways, enjoy. 💜

[ My marvel request box is back open. Please see my pinned post for my request rules. ]

Mdni! I am not responsible for what you find on the internet.

Prologue

The fall of the rain had only gotten heavier as time went on. The streets were a flood land and droplets of rain were practically slamming against the cement. The rain perfectly matched the storm of irritation and stress raging inside you. The man who you had been trying to catch for months had slipped through your grasp once more.

As you sat down in the passengers seat of your partners car, you couldn't fight back the tears rolling down your cheeks. They were cold tears, much like the cold rain slipping down the windows all around you.

It was a very vulnerable moment for you. It was around that time of year again that marked the death date of your mother, and work just kept piling onto you.

This was something your partner had been very aware of. Over the years of fighting with you, he had developed quite a strong relationship with you. So, breaking down in front of him didn't feel weird for you. He understood your pain.

His hand slipped into yours, which was laying flat on your thigh. He opened your palm and slid his fingers between yours. You sat there for several minutes, your shoulders shuddering as you sobbed. Your soft, almost quite sobs blended into the pitter-patter of the rain against the window.

" I just.. " you tried to speak, but no words would come out. You squeezed his hand tighter, sitting back up and laying your head against the headrest.

" I know. " His thumb went over your knuckles. He knew you too well, like he was a part of your own mind. " But I'm right here. "

You looked over at him, your eyes watery, your cheeks red. His blue eyes landed on yours, and there was a comforting silence before his vibranium hand reached out to cup your face in his palm. Before you knew it, your eyes were shutting close and your lips were on his.

That night the both of you had learnt a little something about each other; and that was the fact that neither of you were going to let a set of rules restrict the feelings you had for each other.

~~

A few months later. Somewhere at a Kohl's in New York during March.

" I never knew you had Symmastia. " Natasha commented as you stood in front of her from inside the dressing room. She was outside of it, of course, merely just there to be your cheerleader as you tried on bathing suits for your upcoming vacation.

" Yeah, well, not many people notice it at first glance. " You responded, looking at yourself in the full length mirror in front of you. The color of the bathing suit seemed not to match your complexion very well, and you found that it didn't sit on you like you had hoped it would.

" Well as long as you're confident about it, that's all that matters. " Natasha said with her usual supporting smile. You smiled back, looking through the pile of bathing suits you had picked out. Maybe you'd try the blue one on next?

~ prologue end

~~

Vacation with the avengers certainly was an experience. It was only the first day of your vacation, and people were already getting kicked out of their rooms and trying to fight eachother. And fyi; It was Thor getting kicked out of his room by Tony and coming to yours and begging you to let him in.

You said no, of course. After all, you were in a room with literally only women; your best friend Natasha, Gamora, Nebula, and even Pepper...

Because she was also kicked out of her room with Tony.

It was a beach vacation, and most of the boys were already done getting ready. You were looking through your bag, still having not found the right bathing suit to wear even though you brought eight pairs.

Gamora was next to you on the bed, brushing her hair. Pepper was helping Natasha with her top, and Nebula went out to the pool with Scott. ( He was definitely going to get his balls kicked. )

" Hey, what do you guys think of this top? " You asked, holding up the neon blue triangle top you found in your bag. If only you could find the bottoms. The girls looked at the top and hummed in unison. Natasha tilted her head, thinking, though her thoughts would quickly be disrupted when a loud stomping sound was heard from down the hallway. There was a chorus of very loud yells that followed the quick stomping. Were they playing tag in the hallway?

" Peter, give me my arm back!! "

" Oh yeah? Give me my Redbone cassette back!!! "

It sounded like... Bucky and Quill?

You all exchanged very confused looks at eachother until the silence was broken up with Gamora's snicker.

Natasha ran to the door, stood on her toes and looked through the peephole.

" Oh my god, " she exclaimed. " Bucky's naked. "

You all immediately looked up from what you were doing. Gasps were heard, followed by the girls rushing to the door to try and see.

" Well, h-he's holding a towel to his waist. " Pepper added, taking over the peephole custody.

The boys continued fighting through the hall.

" Come on Pete, give the disabled man back his arm. " Rhodey's voice was heard. Pepper noticed him coming out of the room along with Tony, who was holding his phone up in the air, presumably recording the moment.

" IM NOT DISABLED! "

There was silence for a moment. The men all looked at Bucky, unspeaking.

" Wait. Am I disabled? "

Natasha and pepper laughed out loud. You were getting a small tinge of second hand embarrassment in the pit of your stomach.

" Your guy's boyfriend's are fighting eachother. One of them is a little stupid, it looks like. " Natasha laughs, walking back towards the bed you were standing at with Gamora. You blushed at the comment.

" He's not my boyfriend. And don't talk about him like that, Bucky is very smart. " You spoke, tying your hair in a ponytail with a scrunchie. Gamora sat back down on the bed, rummaging through her makeup bag. Natasha plopped down onto the bed beside her.

" Well, it depends on who she was talking about. They're men, they're both stupid. Especially Peter. " Gamora rolled her eyes at the thought, pulling out a beautiful red lipstick from her bag and a hand mirror. Natasha shifted herself on her side and touched your knee gently, grabbing your attention.

" You are aware that Bucky almost had an identity crisis just now realizing that he is disabled? " She asked. " It's been like 80 years that he's been without an arm, and he's seriously only now realizing that that makes him disabled. "

You laughed, biting your lip as you looked through your bag for your sunscreen and perfume.

" Don't be mean to him. " You said, your earrings jangling as you sprayed your perfume on. Natasha noticed the stupid grin on your face.

" Why? You in love with him? " She teased, shimmying her shoulders and grinning. The girls let out little " oos " In unison. You face palmed.

" No! It's not anything like that. " You protested, slamming your perfume back in your bag. Gamora rolled her guys and Pepper scoffed.

" Oh please. " She looked at you through her brows with her head tilted down. " We've seen the way you two look at eachother. "

She wasn't wrong. There was a thick sense of sexual tension between the both of you. Especially when you sparred or if you were training with the avengers: he'd always ask you to be on his team when you played games. If one of the girls weren't available, you'd ask him to be on yours. That was about the only time you two hung out. Except for little trips like this or when you went out to dinner.

You picked up your bathing suit and put on your sunglasses. Gamora was working on putting her makeup back up.

" You guys are a bunch of a-holes. " You joked, walking into the bathroom to go change. Natasha hummed, opening her phone to text someone.

" Don't come crying to me when you're sad about being single! "She shouted as you walked into the bathroom. You flipped her off before slamming the door shut.

The room was very quiet without you in there. The girls were all waiting for you to finish, and by that point, were all on their phones. Gamora opened up her messenger app after receiving a text from Peter.

P: Look what I got!

Image loading

Gamora snorted; it was a picture of Peter running down the hallway, smiling while he heald up Bucky's arm as Bucky chased after him in the background. Poor guy must have been fearing for his life holding onto that towel.

Pepper looked up from her own phone, her brows furrowing.

" Hey, do you guys think Bucky got his arm back? " She asked. Gamora shook her head, smiling.

" Nope. "

Oh, that was *so* being sent to the avengers group chat.

~~

It was a very hot day, and you were genuinely pissed that your trip was pushed from March all the way back to June. Doing this during spring would have been so much better. But honestly? It was still a really nice beach. A perfect day for a suntan, too.

While you sat down on an outdoor chaise lounge under a pink umbrella. The girls were off somewhere getting food and drinks. You were scrolling through your phone and opened your camera app, contemplating wether or not you'd take pictures to post on your Instagram or to just keep to yourself.

After Natasha had hyped you up to go out in a two piece after going bathing suit shopping with her, you were feeling pretty confident in yourself. Even with your symmastia in mind, you were still feeling good and you didn't think that anything could take that away from you. Plus your bathing suit was fucking hot! Who wouldn't love you in it?

Somewhere off on the beach, and not far away from you, stood a very embarrassed Bucky Barnes with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. Sam was still picking on him for the incident in the hallway, while Steve was simply enjoying himself and trying to figure out how to take a picture of the ocean with his phone.

" I'm just saying, it was a pretty stupid ass decision to take off your arm and leave it there. " Sam laughed, looking at his good friend through his sunglasses and shaking his head. Bucky threw his arms in the air.

" Come on! I had to check for malfunctions and clean it. " He protested. " And as i went back into the bathroom to look in my bag, he came in and took it! " He kicked his foot in the sand while looking down on it somberly. God he wished he brought an umbrella with him.

" Tck. I can already see the headline: Naked 107 year old man frantically runs down hallway of hotel after enraged missoulian steals his prosthetic arm " Sam laughed, crossing his arms and looking off into the beach. Bucky shook his head in defeat. They were never going to let go of that moment in the hallway. Ever.

Steve was still trying to take a picture of the ocean, but he kept accidentally turning his flash on and shaking his hand. Meanwhile, Sam was checking out the group chat that was exploding with texts.

" Hey, do you guys know how to-- " before Steve could finish, Sam cut him off.

" Oh my god. " He gasped, scrolling up to find Peters picture from the hallway sent by Gamora. Bucky had already seen the picture; he was actually quite upset about it. He remembered when Quill took the picture, too. He almost tackled the man to the floor.

Sam heald his phone out for Steve.

" Did you see this yet? "He asked, wheezing with laughter. Steve squinted his eyes, trying to get a good look at the picture Sam was trying to show him.

" What is it? I can't see. " He asked, moving his sunglasses up on his head. He gently took the phone from Sam's hand.

" Is that a chicken? " He asked, his head jerking back in confusion. He could barley see the image with the sunlight beaming down on them. Sam cackled even more. Bucky was clenching his fists, wanting nothing more than to punch the daylights out of Sam.

" No!! " Sam laughed. " Peter took a picture of Bucky chasing him in the hallway. " Sam was practically on the floor, almost crying from laughing so hard.

And then he actually fell in the sand.

" Oh. " Steve was starting to see it now. The picture was a lot less interesting than the picture he originally had in mind. Honestly, a chicken would have been a much better thing for Sam to show him. ...Or maybe a dog? Steve was really liking the dog pictures Kate posted on her Instagram as of late. He personally enjoyed Facebook more, but Instagram was his way of staying in touch with the younger avengers.

Steve handed him back his phone. Sam was still on the sand, trying to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Bucky was spaced out, staring at you from afar.

He noticed you notice him, and you smiled at him and waved. He just barley raised his hand and waved back. He had his face scrunched up and his teeth clenched as he squinted his eyes to look at you. It probably wasn't the most flattering thing ever. He looked at his friends for a moment, and when he looked back at you, you were occupied by Natasha bringing you a drink.

Sam stood up and placed his phone in his pocket. Steve was helping with getting the sand off of him, talking something about Kate's dog while doing so. Bucky was still staring at you, and Sam caught onto it quicker than he would have imagined.

" You gonna go talk to her? " Sam asked, adjusts the sunglasses on his face. He hummed, shrugging.

" Maybe I will just to get away from you assholes. " Was the last thing Bucky said to them before walking off. Steve stood up, giving one last brush of his hand to Sam's knee. He sighed and looked at Bucky as he walked away. Sam was stunned, but he want surprised. At all. This was kind behavior coming from Bucky.

" What's his problem? " He asked, putting his hands on his hips. Sam crossed his arms and looked in the same direction as Steve.

" I don't know, hormones? "

~~

" Make sure you ask for an extra shot of pineapple juice! "

You were bent over the blue lounge chair you were sat in, calling out to Natasha who was walking with Gamora to fix the order of your drink that came back wrong. Bucky didn't mean to stare as he was approaching you, but he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering.

As you sat back down and adjusted your position on the chair, you noticed him making his way toward you. You waved at him, grinning.

" Hey, handicap. Got your arm back, i see? " You joked, putting your hand over your eyes to shield your eyes from the sun as you tried to get a good look at him. As he got closer, he began to block the sun and you put your hand down.

" Nobody's going to let go of that, huh? " Bucky sighed, a smile creeping upon his face as he stood next to you. You laughed.

" Nope. Digital footprint must suck for you. " You wheezed, clapping your hands together. Sam made the same joke to him earlier.

" Yeah, that's real funny. " Bucky told you, shaking his head as he sat down in the lounge next to you. He sat off the edge with his feet on the ground, facing you.

Oh god! What was he even supposed to bring up with you? Better than that, why was he talking to you? he couldn't even believe he was socializing this much with people. Especially after what had happened in the hallway.

" Hey, don't worry about it. " You reassured him, putting your hand on his knee. He couldn't help but notice your freshly manicured fingers. They weren't too long, but not too short. They were an almond shape and were painted a beautiful deep blue with gold accents. It kind of reminded him of his vibranium arm.

" We can be real assholes, and If you don't want me to make jokes about it, I won't. " You told him, smiling before slowly taking your hand off him. You looked back off into the distance. Bucky gulped hard. You were always so nice to him, always wanting him to feel comfortable and safe. You were also always making sure he didn't feel forced to do anything he didn't want to. It made him feel nice.

" Thank you. " He responded with the best smile he could muster, looking down at his hands. You nodded and folded your hands on your stomach, your eyes wandering into a pack of seagulls flying above your head.

There was silence for a moment, but it wasn't an awkward silence. You were off looking into the distance, and Bucky was still staring at you. His eyes raked up your body, quite frankly admiring you. He had a major staring issues, and he found that it only got worse when he was around you, which reminded him; pursuing a relationship with you wouldn't be the easiest thing ever. You were teammates, and Tony Stark had very strick rules of no dating for teammates.

But that didn't stop him from kissing you in his car that one rather depressing night you shared together. And it certainly didn't stop his eyes from wandering up your body, which were now sitting comfortably onto your breasts.

And, maybe he had been looking for too long, but the longer he looked at you, the more he noticed that there was no separation between your breasts. It was interesting, and he was about to bring it up before the image of your chest was replaced with the image of your eyes on his.

" It's a nice view, isn't it? " You joked, moving down your sunglasses so he could actually see your eyes. He smiled, even though he knew he shouldn't have in that situation. He loved your sense of humor.

" It is. " He responded, taking his glasses off and tucking them into the pocket of his shirt. " Better than the ocean, surely. " The smile he had on his face was charming. It was seductive and handsome; a facial expression you rarely saw on him. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on a bit.

What a bastard.

You pushed your sunglasses back up to the bridge of your nose, smirking. You noticed him still starring, this time with his brow quirked, like he was confused.

" You know, I don't wanna be rude or anything--" you cut him off, immediately aware of what he was going to ask you. But that was okay because you were used to the question and had been answering it for years.

" It's apart of this condition I have called Symmastia. " You begun, crossing your legs on the lounge. " Its cognitive for me. Basically what it is is breast tissue that kind of merged together down the middle of my chest when I was born. "

As you explained it to him, he listened intently, nodding his head along understandingly. He didn't know what it was about discovering this little thing about you that made you 10x more attractive to him, but it just did and he was there for it all the way. But before things could get any hotter, Nat and Gamora came walking back to your little spot with your drink.

" Hey!! " Nat called out for you. She handed you her drink and looked at Bucky, who's smile was now gone and replaced with his usual look of tedium.

" And hey, you. " She twinkled her fingers at him. He pursed his lips and looked the other way. His eyes fell on Gamora instead. She was frowning at him.

" You're in my spot. " She said, crossing her arms. Bucky gave her a fake, sarcastic smile.

" Oh, am I? " He spoke with mock-surprise. " Well I sure as hell don't see you using it. " He imitated her, crossing his arms over his chest. Before things could get worse, you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him off the seat. Gamora looked like she was just about to beat the shit out of him.

" That's fine, he can just sit over here with me. " You laughed nervously, waving your hand in the air. Gamora spitefully sat back down in the lounge, her eyes never leaving Bucky. Nat had absolutely no idea what to do with the amount of shock she was in.

" You keep talking like that and I'll rip off your other arm. " Gamora spat, her eyebrow twitching as she brought her drink yo to take a sip of it. You saw the cocky smirk on Bucky's face. Whatever he was going to say next, it wasn't good.

" I'd like to see you try. " He spoke slowly and lowly, leaning into her end tilting his head to the side, intimidatingly. Gamora almost threw her drink at him. If it hadn't coast her $24, it would have definitely been poured straight into his crotch with a bonus kick to the balls for good measure.

" Are you challenging me, Mr. Barnes? "

That was the point that got Natasha to finally chime in. She stood between the two arguing fools, holding her hands out.

" No! No he's not! Nobody's challenging anyone to anything, you hear me? " She spoke firmly, her head snapping back and forth between the both of them. Your hold on Bucky's shirt persisted Incase you needed to hold him back Incase he actually did do something. But you had faith in him. He wasn't that stupid to ruin his reputation two times in the same afternoon.

" You know what? Me and Gamora can just go somewhere else, and you two can go back to--starring into eachothers eyes seductively or whatever it was you were doing. " She explained, grabbing Gamora's arm and bringing her to her feet. Gamora and Bucky were still angrily starring at eachother.

" Okay, bye-- " you tried to say to Nat as she walked off with Gamora before the old dog next to you started barking again.

" And whatever we were doing is none of your damn busin--"

Your hand immediately flung over his mouth. It was probably the best reaction time you'd had in a while. Natasha shook her head disappointingly, and left with one final comment, " control your freaking dog. "

You were trying. But it was very hard with how spontaneous, sassy, rude, and intrusive Bucky could get. Of course he never meant it and it was always just there as a way of playing around, but there were times where he overstepped, and in that moment, he definitely overstepped.

You turned to him. He felt your eyes on him, and his shoulders tensed and he lowered his head like a little kid who had just been caught sneaking into their moms candy jar in the middle of the night.

" What the hell was that?! " You yelled, bonking him on his head gently. He glanced at you then back at the sand.

" I'm sorry. " He muttered. " Got a bit irritated that our moment was short lived, I guess. "

He was nervously moving his feet around in the sand. It was kind of cute coming from him. Well--his honesty, that was. Your shoulders slumped.

" I can get behind that. " You smiled, putting your hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. You'd be lying if you said you weren't thinking the same thing.

Then, suddenly, Bucky got a very bad idea.

He looked around the surrounding area. Sam and Steve were the closest to them, but they were several meters away and had their backs turned to the both of you. You quirked a brow, curious at what he was going to do.

Once he mentally declared that the area was clear, he turned back to you and leaned in to kiss you. You were a bit caught off guard, but this wasn't the first time that this had happened between you two, so you gave in.

As much as you wanted a full make out session with him right there in the sand, you knew that just a couple seconds of bliss was your safest option if you didn't want to get fired. He pulled back a bit, and you hesitated for a hot minute before pulling him by his collar back into the kiss.

Meanwhile,

" No! I told you that the American flag has to go on the top of the castle. " Steve argued, sticking the tiny little American flag cake topper a fan had given him earlier that morning back at the top of the sand castle he had built with Sam.

Sam, on the other hand, had his attention fully on the two people making out from afar, one of them being one of his closest friends. Steve was still carrying on his one-sided argument while he tried to maneuver the castle the way he wanted. Until he realized his friend wasn't listening to him.

" Are you even paying attention to me? " Steves voice was laced with desperation as he dramatically threw his arms in the air. Sam was still spaced out, staring at his teammates as they kissed harder.

" Shut up, you big baby. Look. " Sam said, flicking the back of his hand at Steve's chest, his eyes never leaving the very exotic scene in front of him. Steve looked off into the direction Sam was looking, and he immediately caught on.

" Oh shit. " Was all he said. He couldn't believe it. His best friend was finally finding love again after almost 80 years.

" Is that? " He weakly pointed at the couple. He was so dumbfounded that he was considering if Bucky was even Bucky in that moment. A huge smile crept upon Sam's face.

" Oh yeah. Our little solider's finally getting some after 80 years. " He cackled. " He's growing up so fast!! "

You had your hand on Bucky's chest as he leaned forward into you, almost pinning you down into the seat. It was somehow steamier than the moment in the car, most likely because you were surrounded by your coworkers and there was a possibility of your boss walking in. Your legs were so close to opening around his waist.

*Odin's beard! what in the nine realms where you doing?*

He gave you a few more pecks before he let go of you, pulling back to give you time to recover. Whatever happened to the thoughts of, " I'm not gonna make out with him? "

You were panting, your lips wet and puffy. He was smirking like an absolute buffoon, the biggest one in the world by your standards.

" Bucky... " You started. His grin only grew, if that was even possible at that point.

" Yes? "

" We are so getting in trouble. " You scoffed, sitting back upright in your seat. He chuckled and ran his hand down your thigh.

" I won't tell if you won't. " He drawled out, a tinge of the Russian accent he was trying so hard to lose shining through his words. It was a bit sexy, but you could barely relish it before you noticed Sam and Steve waving at you from their little sand castle. Bucky noticed the way you were looking over his shoulder to look at his friends, and immediately followed your gaze.

Those little pests...

Once he turned to look at them, they started jumping in the air and waving their arms around like crazy people.

" Yeeaaaah Buuucky!!! " Sam cheered him on. Bucky felt a vein in his forehead popping out.

You heald up your hand a bit and waved back slowly. You waved with a smile, and Bucky flipped them off with a frown.

" Oh, fuck off! "

~~

Later that night, some of the Avengers including you decided to go to a little club across the street of the hotel. Most of the Avengers were still at the club, but Gamora, Natasha and Bucky were already back at the hotel by the time you came back. The girls had said they didn't want to get absolutely wrecked because they wanted to see the aquarium in the morning, but Bucky just didn't enjoy the crowd that much. You were only a little bit tipsy, but that was because you didn't enjoy alcohol that much.

Tony and Pepper were behind you as you walked down the hallway. You were going to separate from them by the the you turned the next corner because their room was kind of far from yours.

It was kind of funny too; Tony got so shitfaced that he agreed to letting Pepper back into his room with her.

You finally reached the corner, and you were trying to find your key card in your purse as the couple walked by you. They were arguing about something again, like always. Pepper was just trying to get out of the rather possessive hold Tony had on her so she could properly say goodnight to you.

" Goodnight, hon! " She calls out to you, forcing a smile before Tony directs her attention back onto him. You looked up from your purse to glance at her for a moment, rummaging through your trash filled purse until you found your key card. And a... Condom?

Hm. That was weird. And ridiculously hilarious considering you had a IUD. It had a silver packaging with a red star in the front. You flipped it to the back, and it had a very tiny red inked text that read the words, " I hope you're ready for this winter soldier. "

You belly chuckled at the little joke. You wanted to place your bet that it was probably Sam who had put it in there. The bigger question was who had them made and how long had they been conspiring to do pull this on you?

You couldn't help yourself from laughing as you walked up to your room. You unlocked the door and stepped inside, setting down your purse by the door and slipping out of your shoes. Gamora and Natasha were chatting while laying on their beds, watching something on the TV.

" Hey, guys. " You called out to them. They looked your way and waved. The tv was set to a reality show channel, and the two of them were sitting there, talking crap about the awful couple on the screen. You made your way towards your bed and pulled out your suitcase, looking for a change of clothes. You rummaged through the bag for a hot minute before settling on a red tank top and black shorts.

" I'm gonna go change. " You told them, turning your heel and walking into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

When you walked out of the bathroom after changing, you were met with a little surprise; Bucky Barnes. Standing right outside the bathroom door, near the front entrance. When he saw you, he glanced at you and mouthed the words, " help me. " You looked at the girls, at him, at the girls, and then back to him.

" Guys there's a super solider inside our room. " You commented, pointing at him.

" She let him in. " Gamora told you, motioning her head towards Natasha.

" He wants to talk to you! " Natasha shouted enthusiastically. Bucky was pinching the bridge of his nose as he heald his head down, sighing heavily.

Of course he wanted to talk to you, why else would he be there? To sell them girl scouts cookies?

You looked up at him and he turned to face you fully.

" What are you doing here? " You whispered. He rubbed his neck sheepishly. After your little moment on the beach, he couldn't stop thinking about you. You couldn't stop thinking of him either. Really, you were relived to see his face again.

" Open your hand. " He told you. His vibranium hand was clenched in a fist like he had something in it. You furrowed your brows, skeptical.

" Why? " He cut you off.

" Just do it. "

You took a deep breath before you heald your hand out in front of him. A smirk crept across his face, a smirk you didn't like at all, and he put his hand in yours. A little crunching sound of plastic was heard as he opened his palm, and your skin came in contact a small wrapper of some sorts. He took his hand off yours, and immediately you recognized what was in your hand.

It was the same condom you found in your bag earlier. He put his hand on your hip and leaned into your ear real close.

" You read what it said. " He whispered to you, his voice low and seductive. His fingers traced your hip bone lightly. " I hope you're ready for this winter solider. "

Bucky's arms slid away from you and he slowly stepped back. You were staring at him with your mouth open, shocked. You were completely speechless, and found it hard to move from your spot. He virtually had you up against the bathroom door, cornering you. He had this stupid grin on his face. Obviously he was doing this all in an attempt to get you annoyed and flustered.

" You are really bad at dirty talk. " You cringed, keeping your voice at a whisper level. Bucky shrugged, stepping closer to you. He was standing so close that you could smell his cologne. It was a very bold, earthy, and masculine kind of aroma. It was hard to ignore.

You looked over your shoulder, making sure that the others weren't paying attention to you two.

" I was just reading what the wrapper said. " He chuckled darkly, stepping closer, his arm sliding past your body and grabbing the door handle. He stared into your eyes for a moment before he turned the handle, making you stumble back as the door to the bathroom opened suddenly. You nearly tripped on your own feet, shuffling backward and further into the room. Bucky stepped forward and shut and locked the door behind him.

" You pulling my leg or something, suntan? " He asked you, speaking a little louder now and with his arms folded over his chest. You shook your head, your left foot dragging behind your right, gaining more distance between you and him.

" I think someone is pulling on the both of our legs. " You said, stilling in the middle of the big, spacious bathroom. Bucky's eyes never left yours. He was searching you, analyzing every move you made and every emotion etched in your face.

" I got the same thing stuffed into my purse. " You told him, toying with the hem of your shorts. " I think it's just one of the Avengers trying to get us closer by pulling a dumb prank on us. "

Bucky let his arms fall back down to his sides, sighing as he approached you. You were hesitant, considering moving away again until he was standing in front of you. He was deeply intimating even when he wasn't trying.

" Are we not already close? " He questioned, leaning into you a bit. You didn't need to even think about your answer to that question.

" We are. " You responded, realizing how badly you worded that last sentence. " I think we're both just looking for something a little more In our relationship. ''

Those last words sparked something inside Bucky. After all the constant games of cat and mouse, the persistent cravings the two of you had for eachother, and the hanging off the edge of your seats since the moment you shared in his car on that one rainy day--could this be the moment where you got everything figured out?

" Those damn assholes. " He muttered, reaching his arms out for you and pulling you against him. His flesh hand went to your cheek, and he bent down and stole your lips in a rather passionate kiss. It was slow and sensual, his lips pecking against yours repeatedly.

" They should really mind their own businesses anyway. " He spoke against your mouth in annoyance, his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, his fingers curling into your hair, tugging on it gently as he kissed you sweetly. It reminded you of the moment in his car. How sweet and light it was. How passionate it was.

Bucky's lips moved from your lips, to your cheek, to all the way down to your neck. You grabbed the front of his shirt, trying your hardest not to moan like a freak in the middle of your hotel rooms bathroom.

He griped your hips, and spun you around, pulling you as close as he could get you to his body. His metal hand dropped down to your inner thighs, caressing you lightly as he bent down to kiss your neck hungrily. He cupped your sex through your shorts, almost making you yelp before you covered your mouth. If he continued to go on, youd probably get louder.

" Bucky, " you gasped. " we need to take this somewhere else. "

~~

Whatever it was that you were expecting, it wasn't to be thrown over Bucky's shoulder as he carried you out of the bathroom. You were screaming, all right. Screaming and slamming your fists against his back.

" Put me down!! " You told him as he stood at the front door, unlocking it. Gamora and Natasha looked your way, watching as the man carried you out of the room.

" Help me! " Was the last thing you told them before you left for the rest of the night.

He continued to hold you up on his shoulders, even as he was unlocking the door. He did not listen to a single protest you made, and even went as far as to tell you to shut up as he walked to his room. Once you were inside, he set his key down on the kitchen table before he kicked open the bedroom door. He slammed the door behind him.

" Taking me to your chambers now, really? That's lovely, that's-- "

His hand came down on your ass as a harsh smack, and you yelped in surprise as he did so. Your skin tingled with a slight sting from the impact when he removed his hand from your skin. He threw you down on one of the two beds in the room, your body lightly bouncing off the mattress as you plopped down in it.

You barley had any time to think about what was happening; everything was happening so quickly and you couldn't piece together in your mind what in the world was going on.

" You said you wanted to take our little moment somewhere else? " He inquired, unbuttoning his black button down with quick fingers. You gulped hard, propping yourself up on your hands, your thighs clenching.

" Yes, but I was not expecting this. " You laughed. Bucky rose a brow.

" You're not complaining though, are you? " He asked, peeling the shirt off his body. He had a pair of dog tags around his neck, presumably his from his time serving in the war. Suddenly you found yourself at a loss of words as his muscular torso became visible to you. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes raking up and down his seemingly perfect body. He was certainly a lot bigger and heavier compared to when you had first met him. His body glowed in the moonlight, highlighting his abs and his strong arms. He noticed you staring, and it made him smile.

" You've gone speechless, avenger. " He puts his hands on his knees, bending down to your stare level. You gulped when you realized you had been staring.

" Cat got your tongue? " He wanders, hooking his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze towards his. " Or perhaps there's something you're wanting? "

His words made you sweat. You felt your mouth salivating heavily as you looked him in his eyes deeply. He smiled, coming his head to the side.

" Answer me. " He whispers, pulling you into a soft kiss. His strong, large hands go onto your closed thighs and bring them back open.

" Do you want me to touch you? "

His voice is low and softer than a feather, his flesh hand going between your legs, his fingers bushing against your clothed core. You gulped hard, your eyes fluttering shut.

" Yes. " You responded breathlessly, trying so hard not to overreact with your how your body responded to him. Bucky was satisfied with your answer.

" Good girl. " He kissed the side of your face before standing back up. He unbuckled his belt, but he wasn't about to take his pants off just yet. You bit your lip, your mind curious as he crawled over your body and pinned you down onto the bed.

This was something the both of you had been dragging out for many years. It was only a matter of time before it finally happened. The fact that it was happening then was hard for you to believe. After the hard flirting, the small unexplained kisses every here and then, the waiting, your dreams were now coming true.

Bucky rolled a black hair band off his wrist and used it to tie his long hair back in a ponytail, straddling your hips and sitting upright as he did so. A few loose strands fell down to the sides of his face, along with the right side of his curtain bags. You'd be lying if you said you didn't think it was hot.

" Are you sure you want this? " He asked, the look in his eyes stern. The both of you knew what you wanted, but he wanted you to feel safe and he needed to make sure you were on board with it.

" Yes. I am. " You responded, nodding. You were biting down on your finger, waiting for him, your mind flooded with ideas of what exactly he could do to you.

" Just tell me to stop if it begins to hurt, and I'll stop. " His tone was the same; rigid all through and serious. He sat between your legs and soothingly rubbed his hands on your thighs. There was a stark temperature difference from his vibranium hand and his flesh hand; one was cold and the other way warm. It made you shiver, goosebumps rising up your skin. His fingers slid up to your hips, and he hooked his fingers against the waistband of your shorts.

" Let's get you out of these. " He grinned, pulling the clothing down your legs and throwing it on the floor somewhere, leaving you in just your black laced panties. He hummed in approval, spreading your legs out wider with his strong hands, his mind calculating just exactly what he was going to do to you.

" Oh, if Tony finds out about this... " You whispered, a sudden feeling of anxiety filling your stomach. Bucky shook his head, stilling his hands on top of your thighs. He could tell you were getting nervous.

" Tony's not gonna find out anything. " He reassures you. He bends down to kiss you, his lips soft and warm against yours. You clamped your legs around his waist, inviting him further in. He pecked your lips slowly, his flesh hand running up your shirt, feeling your bare skin under his palm.

" Whatever happens in this room tonight stays between you and me. " He told you, kissing his way down your neck. You moaned quietly as his lips moved across the crook of your neck, nipping at it, making you more desperate by the second. His left hand was busy with your center, his fingers dragging up and down your clothed slit.

" You're so pretty, you know that? " Bucky praised you into your ear, making you blush deeply. He lifted his head from your shoulder and tugged on the hem of your tank top.

" Are you okay with me taking this off? " He asked. He knew about you and your condition and didn't want to make you feel obligated to take it off. But you were confident in your body, so you agreed.

" Go ahead. " You told him with a cocky smirk. He didn't know what it was, but your little grin there made him instantly 10x more attracted to you.

You lifted off your back a bit, and he slip your top up and over your head, tossing it somewhere off into the distance. The cold air in the room came into contact with your skin, and you shivered at it.

He couldn't take his eyes off you. Somehow you were so much hotter than he had imagined.

Bucky ran his hands up your sides, his eyes drinking in your body. Now it was his turn to be speechless.

" Fuck, " He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. How could he have put this off for so long? He seriously could not believe you were real. " You're gorgeous. "

His mouth trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your cleavage, his flesh hand coming up to cup your breast, his thumb laying flat on your nipple, rubbing it lightly. You let out a little moan at the contact, watching as his mouth latched onto your other breast. The tip of his tongue circled across your areola before his lips closed around your hardening nipple. He sucked on it gently, his other hand massaging and grabbing as much of your skin that it could.

When he rose back up, you could see a little wet line from his saliva glistening on your skin. He stared at his work with pride, giving your breast one last squeeze.

" You should feel ashamed of yourself. " He whispered, looking at you with a twisted grin. You were starting to feel your legs quake.

" Showing off your sexy body like that on the beach. " He went on, sitting upright and slithering his belt out of his pants. " like some kind of cheap whore. " He shook his head, letting his belt fall to the floor with a soft metal clink. You gulped hard at the sudden shift in his demeanor.

" Is that how you want me to treat you? " He questioned, pulling down the zipper of his shorts. You were at a loss of words, once again. He bent over your body, his knee pressing against your center perfectly and making you whimper. He directed your gaze towards his.

" Where are those pretty little words of yours? " He purred, cocking his head to the side. Just a moment ago, it felt like you two were friends arguing with eachother over a dumb prank--now the tides had completely shifted.

" I-i.. " was the best you could muster. He grinned. He liked this side of you.

" Yeah? You admitting to it? " He teased, running his hand down your stomach. You nodded your head, the best answer you could provide given your shocked state.

Bucky let go of you, and sat back up. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he flicked his head back, moving his hair out of his face. His hands rest on your hips, his fingers hooking your panties.

" Lift up for me, hon. " He told you, watching as you hesitantly lift your hips upwards. He brings your panties down and off your legs, throwing them off somewhere unknown, leaving you now completely bare in front of him.

" Oh wow, " he scoffed, running two thick fingers down your slit, collecting your slick on his skin. " Look at that. "

His eyes never leave yours, even as he slips those fingers into your plush, aching pussy. You mewl out loudly, the sound echoing through the room. You are wet and warm around his fingers, the feeling intoxicating him. You flutter your eyes shut, moaning softly and sweetly as his fingers slide in and out of you perfectly, prepping you for him.

As his fingers slip in and out of you flawlessly, preparing you for his already hardened cock, you flutter your eyes shut and murmur softly and sweetly. His fingers curl up into you, their tips flicking quickly across your flesh as they move, drawing out a little, quiet clicking sound from your center. You had to bite your hand from how loudly you were about to moan.

You felt your head spinning. You genuinely couldn't believe what was happening. It was like your fantasy come to life. You were fighting back so many moans threatening to break loose. Bucky noticed it quickly.

" Dont cover your mouth. " He told you, swatting your hand away from your mouth. Your eyebrows raised.

" But what if some-- "

" Oh, who the fuck cares? I want them to hear how good I'm making my girl feel. " He said breathlessly, his voice hoarse and his accent returning, this time coming out very heavily. Your pussy fluttered around his fingers at his words. He didn't even give you time to properly process his words before he was plunging his fingers back into you.

A loud, rather pornographic moan escaped your lips and your pussy clamped down on him tightly. He grinned.

" Already on that edge, suntan? " Bucky teased, his fingers curling right into your special spot. You moaned, your thighs squeezing his arm.

" Is it just like you imagined? " His blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, as he inquired. Your cheeks turning red, and you bit your lip. Did he read your mind?

" E-even better. " Your hips instinctively bucked against his hand as you rasped. Your mind was so hazy. He'd barley even touched you, and you were already about to cum. You couldn't stop the endless moans that's were escaping your puffy lips.

" O-oh Bucky.. " you gasped as his thumb drove up and down your clit. " D-dont stop."

His thumb brushed up and down your already, sensitive swollen, driving your mad with each stroke he gave you. His fingers were pumping in and out of you relentlessly.

But before you could go off that edge you so badly needing to get off of, he pulled his fingers from your dripping cunt. Your cunt immediately felt cold and empty without him. You began to stutter.

" Wh-what? " You blinked, confused. " Why'd you stop? "

Bucky cocked his head to the side and gave you a fake frown.

" Oh, I'm sorry. " He chuckled, rubbing your thigh with his metal arm. " I didn't realize you wanted it that bad. "

He brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the sweet, lingering traces of you. His eyes fluttered closed, a deep groan escaping him as he savored the flavor. He wiped the rest of the remnants on his shorts, the movement casual, but there was something almost predatory in his gaze.

"Delicious," he murmured, voice low and full of satisfaction. You stared at him In confusion.

" Bucky... " Your head threw back against the pillow, annoyed. He could already sense your protests from a mile away.

" Shh, sweetie. Good things come to those who wait."

He stood from the bed, his muscles rippling as he moved, and gave your thighs a light, possessive pat with his large hands. The touch sent a warm shiver through you, a mix of nerves and anticipation. When he straightened up, he tightened the ponytail at the back of his head, flicking his hair back with a fluid motion. He was so confident, so effortlessly commanding.

"Just to make sure... you're still 100% okay with this?" His voice softened as he met your gaze, his hands resting on the waistband of his shorts. His expression was open, waiting for your answer, but there was an edge of something unreadable in his eyes.

You swallowed, your heart racing as you nodded. "Yes," you whispered, the words leaving your lips almost too softly. Your eyes traced over his body, sketching over his big arms and his muscular torso. This was man who could literally break you in half, and thinking that as your eyes raked over his body made you feel unbalanced and unsteady, even though you weren't standing.

You looked back up at him, your eyes meeting. Then, his shorts and boxers hit the floor in the hotel room with a soft thud. You gulp hard as the rest of his body is revealed to you for the very first time. Right there in the hotel room he was sharing with his best friends. Your eyes trail down his body, coming into contact with his hardened length--beaded with pre-cum.

Bucky set a knee down on the bed, crawling up your body, the bed shifting under his weight. Your breath caught in your throat as he hovered over you. He was so much bigger than you, practically taking up all your space as he sat above you.

With gentle hands, Bucky lifts the base of your plump thighs and spreads you open in front of him. You were already so wet and needy for him. He picked up one of your legs, his lips pressing against your ankle and traveling down to your calf.

" I can't believe we're actually doing this. " You breathed, your body tense with anticipation. With a slow push of his hips, Bucky's cock slow nudged inside you. Soft groans released from your mouths as he pushed further inside you. He set your leg down, but kept his hand on your knee to keep your legs open.

" Ngh. Me too. " He grunts. As his cock sinks into you, he can feel your pussy stretching to accommodate his size, welcoming him into your warm. The feeling makes you feel vulnerable but oh, so good. A couple more loose strands of dark brown hair fall down into Bucky's face as he leans back a bit, rolling his hips against yours not too slowly but also not exactly fast. His thrusts into you were slow, steady and measured methodically.

" Fuck, you feel so good, gorgeous. " He spoke gruffly through a breathless chuckle. His cock slid in and out of you smoothly, like how a knife would spread butter onto a slice of bread. There was a lump stuck in your throat, and you found yourself moaning softly with your mouth open.

Your fingers slipped across his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he faintly increased his pace. With each thrust he gives you comes out a loud, wet squelching sound from your cunt as it tries to clamp down on him and keep him inside you. You're breathless.

Your bottom lip sinks between your teeth and your thighs clench around his wide waist. Sparks of pleasure ran through you as Bucky's hands run down your legs and his hips start to hit against yours harder.

It was a feeling that you had been yearning to feel for ages. Each time his cockhead would brush up against your velvety walls, you would get butterflies in your pussy. It just felt so good. Your eyes flutter shut and you claw at his shoulder.

" Bucky.. " you whine, your back arching off the bed. He gets faster, his cock pushing deep into you, gliding in and out of you. He bends down to kiss your neck, forcing your legs open wider. Soft lips brush against your sensitive neck, and your fingers on his shoulders move to his back. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. The both of you moan and you pull your hair out of your neck to give him more access to your skin. A sudden, primal, dirty instinct struck Bucky's mind.

He searched your neck for your pulse point, and when he found it, he bit down on it and sucked on it harshly. You hissed, your nails that were digging into his skin now streaking down his back, leaving little white scratch marks in their wake. His back arches at your touch, but that only made him suck onto your neck harder. A loud yelp escaped your lips as he did so, a sharp but pleasureable sting striking your body. He was leaving little hickeys on your skin.

" What are you doing? " Almost choking on a moan, you managed to speak the question but rather wobbly. He grinned, rising up from your body and sitting back on his knees.

" Oh, you know... " His metal hand reached between your legs, his cold middle finger snaking down your warm clit. Your arms slipped off his back, and your body shook at the contact.

" Letting everyone know we're rule breakers. "

~~

It was 6:38 in the morning. Bucky had pulled you from your room once again, this time accompanied by Sam and Steve. You were getting breakfast from the hotels dinning area, like the four of you had been plotting to do for as long as you had been planning the trip. Sam and Steve were already seated at the table you four we're sharing, munching on their breakfast while you were getting coffee with Bucky.

" How are your legs holding up? " He asked you with a cocky smirk, glancing at you his spot where he was pouring in his creamer. He rarely drank coffee with creamer in it.

" Little but sore, but I'm okay. " You responded with the shrug of your shoulders as your stirred in sugar. The dinning area was completely empty except for the four of you and the chefs who were walking around the area and setting tables. Bucky smiled and bent down to peck you on your lips.

As you both walked back to your table, you heald eachothers hand before sitting down next to each other in front of Sam and Steve. They were both laughing and whispering things to eachother. When they noticed you sitting down, Sam started cackling.

" So I see you two used the little gift I sent you both. " Sam laughed manically. You nearly almost choked on your coffee. Bucky's mouth flew open.

" So it was you!? "

[nathalie-worlds]

How to lost Bachelors and Bachelorettes interest? A guide in easy steps.

They have a huge crush on you, but you messed up. How?

SHANE:

Mess with Jas or animals (specially his chickens), and you’ll regret it. He will never forgive you for that. You think he was rude and mean when you first met him? That was nothing. He can be much, much worse. But if you really hurt Jas (physically or emotionally) he won’t hesitate to retaliate.

ELLIOT:

Proclaim yourself a writer too, and use AI to create texts. He knows writing it's difficult, and he understands the anxieties behind putting your heart into something. He will never look down on you, and if you ask him, he will gladly help you write and improve your writing skills if you ask—anything. He will give you a chance, but if you keep insisting... he will just give up. You are not honest.

HARVEY:

He is the oldest of all the marriage candidates, and he wants to get married and have children. Anything that suggests that you are not taking the relationship seriously, or you are not into him, or you are unsure about sharing the same values is more than enough for him to lose interest in you.

SAM:

Be mean to his family. Come on! He is a family man. If you want to see a not-so-happy side of him, punch Vincent, laugh at his mother, or make a cruel joke about his father's PTSD. Do any of these things, and it's over. He will openly tell you how horrible you are, and you will never see him again.

SEBASTIAN:

Dismiss his dreams and projects. You won’t even realize you messed up because he is so introverted that he won’t tell you. But slowly, you’ll see him vanish from your life, distancing himself from you. Your deep conversations will become shallow. But if you want accelarate the process, just compare him to Maru.

ALEX :

Play games on him. Look, he’s popular, OK? He has abs, muscles, a nice tan... He has plenty of girls after him! But he chose you, and he doesn’t like being treated badly. Don’t follow the 'three-day rule' or any of that BS, because he can easily text another girl. If he’s enamored with you, it’s probably because he has opened up and told you how he still struggles with abandonment issues and the fact that you ignore that... He is too proud to deal with these games.

EMILY:

Laugh at her beliefs—but actually mock them. She can tolerate some banter (she puts up with Shane, who is basically an atheist), but if you genuinely disrespect her beliefs, or you are the type of person who brings her tons of essays about why cleansing rocks don't work and made your goal to teach her the reality, let's say she won’t be amused by your passion. She will openly tell you that your vibes are turbulent and walk away.

HALEY:

Laugh at her sister’s weirdness. She knows Emily is weird, but Emily also took care of her for the past few years. She’s her older sister, and she loves her. She also wouldn’t believe you’re serious about her or the relationship if you openly mock the only relative she has. Like, shouldn't you at least pretend going along with her family?

MARU:

Be dumb. But really dumb. She knows she’s smart and accepted long ago that it would be difficult to find someone as intelligent as her. She doesn’t care about that. But if you say something extremely stupid or ignorant—like claiming that cats and dogs are the same species, that Spain is in Mexico, or that the Moon is farther than the Sun—and, even worse, you refuse to be corrected… let’s just say she won’t be able to see you attractive anymore.

PENNY:

Be immature. Not childlike, not being playful, not being carefree, I mean truly immature. If you throw a tantrum because you didn’t get your way or refuse to do household chores because they’re ‘I don't want to’ she’ll probably think, ‘My God, even Vincent and Jas don’t act like this.’ She will realize, that you are worse than literal children, like eeeeeeek. And that’s it. She’ll never call you back.

LEAH:

Be like her ex. Seriously, act like Kel—be possessive, abusive, and an idiot. Her breakup is so recent that it would be very easy to compare you to her ex. It’s unavoidable. She doesn’t want to get back with them or fall for someone like him/her again

ABIGAIL:

Say that you're a redpill follower and that trad-wives are way better... YIKES! No, just no. That’s the complete opposite of her personality, and you’re coming across like an internet troll who barely leaves his room. Plus, she’s not okay with discussing women who would enjoy being a housewife being treated as an appliance for you commodity instead of humans which you reach an agreement.

[s0fter-sin]

one of my favourite aspects of supernatural that you very rarely see in paranormal shows is that sam and dean are already versed in the world they live in. there’s no sudden discovery of ghosts and demons and now they have to learn about them along with the audience; they are born into it and already know all about it. it allows the audience to follow their personal story instead of also trying to figure out this new world and its rules

the first season is full of knowledge we never see them learn; “w*ndigoes are in the minnesota woods or- or northern michigan. i’ve never even heard of one this far west.” […] “great. well then this [his gun] is useless.” (1x02), “you don’t break a curse. you get the hell out of its way.” (1x08), d: “it’s a god. a pagan god, anyway.” […] “the annual cycle of its killings? and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. like some kind of fertility right.” […] s: “the last meal. given to sacrificial victims. d: “yeah, i’m thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god.” (1x11)

almost every episode in the first season is a monster they’ve faced before that they then explain to the audience in a way that should feel patronising; like it’s the same speech given over and over again but instead, the audience almost feels included in the knowledge. it’s stated with such an innate confidence and comfort in said knowledge that it feels like we already knew it too; “spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. if they want inside, they just go through the walls.” […] “the claws, the speed that it moves; could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog.” (1x02), “it's biblical numerology. you know noah's ark, it rained for forty days. the number means death.” (1x04), “no no no, not the reaper, a reaper. there's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names.” […] “you said it yourself that the clock stopped, right? reapers stop time. and you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why i could see it and you couldn't.” (1x12)

they already know and, at least in the first season, already have what they need to kill whatever they’re hunting; already know to salt and burn bones for spirits, fire for a w*ndigo, exorcisms for demons, a silver bullet to the heart for shapeshifters. there’s only three times in the entire first season that they run into something new to them; 1x14 when sam gets his first vision that leads him to another psychic, 1x16 when dean calls caleb for help on the sigil he put together and he tells him about daevas, and 1x20 when they find out vampires are real- and they only don’t know that bc john thought they were hunted to extinction and not worth mentioning

(there’s also technically two half instances if you count one of them knowing something the other doesn’t - sam figuring out the tulpa in 1x17 and dean already knowing about the shtriga in 1x18 - but those still rely on sam and dean having prior knowledge)

even when they’re uncertain about facing something, it’s not bc they don’t know what it is; it’s precisely bc they know what it is and acknowledge that it’ll be a difficult hunt (“i don't know, man. this isn't our normal gig. i mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. this is big. and i wish dad was here.” 1x04)

so much of the tension in paranormal shows typically comes from the main character(s) not knowing what is happening to them/the people around them and having to find out how to resolve it. supernatural is unique in that it operates more like a police procedural. the tension comes from solving the clues and identifying patterns to figure out who (what) the killer is and intercepting before they can take another victim

it’s such a different tone to go for when compared to other shows that came both before, during, and after its run. it sets sam and dean on even footing with each other since they both have the same knowledge going in, and it puts them in a place of authority usually reserved for an outside character

the shows i compare spn to most is charmed, buffy and teen wolf; every main character in those shows are brought into the paranormal world knowing nothing, putting them on the same level as the audience, and they have their mc interact with others already knowledgeable about that world in order to overcome their problem/monster of the week. the audience organically learns about this new world as the characters learn about it. it’s a sound writing strategy that prevents “as we already know”-style exposition but something that complicates it is if your world building isn’t unique or intriguing enough, this slow introduction can become boring

we’ve seen shows like these before; sitting through the same tropes of characters learning to use their powers, struggling with no longer feeling normal/relating to the regular world around them, and not knowing how much they can trust the people already involved in this new world gets repetitive. all three shows eventually reach the same level of comfort with their new world that spn starts with but if the characters aren’t enough to draw you in, you can end up dropping it before they reach that point (and often, before the overarching plot can really kick in and evolve the show beyond the villain of the week format)

it’s the superhero origin movie in tv format; dragged out and overplayed. dropping the audience into an established world of course comes with its own problems but you also have the benefit of pre-existing established character dynamics that let the audience slot in like they’ve always been there instead of just getting to know all the characters while the characters also get to know each other

sam and dean already knowing about the supernatural lets the audience immediately get to the core of the story; the conflict between sam and dean, the search for their father, and the mystery of what killed their mother

[navybrat817]

@targaryenvampireslayer @biteofcherry THIS. 😂

[therentyoupay]

im completely feral over all your jelsa stories!!!!!! do you ever write established relationship jelsa or have any headcanons about what they would be like together in a serious relationship or marriage????

THANK YOU SO MUCH. 😭😭😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕🙏 thank you thank you nonny for this super sweet ask and this really lovely question and all of your love and support!! 💕💕💕💕💕

i have... never actually written established!relationship (in any fandom), now that i'm thinking about it? that said, i guess i can come up with a quick list of some headcanons, maybe? 😂 i will have to think about this more, but for now, here's a quick drop:

elsa is an early riser; elsa helps jack create more sustainable sleeping patterns and habit formations 😂

when jack gets Impetuous Urges to Do Something Rash and Impractically Spontaneous, elsa will ground jack, reminding him to think before acting. (he occasionally Still Does It, anyway.) elsa knows what she signed up for, lol.

jack loves to play Harmless(!) Pranks, just to watch elsa’s reaction. (he is no longer allowed to sneak up on her after The Incident).

they also quibble over the definition of "harmless" and the specific logistical implications of that; for a while, jack was banned from further pranking, but then he got more creative at showing elsa that pranks could be wholesome and genuine, in which they could both be in on the joke. however, due to elsa's deeply-rooted Need to Excel and her (Not-so)Secret Competitive AF Streak, her retaliation in escalating the Cleverness Prank War quickly resulted in jack's prompt implementation of the Prank-Free Zones and Time Periods. (no, he was not scared.)

elsa, usually reserved, has learned to let her playful side show more often with jack. she might still pretend to be exasperated by his antics, but sometimes it's part of the game (or habit).

elsa sill struggles with opening up emotionally sometimes, but she progressively feels safe enough to share her innermost thoughts and fears. with time, she confides in him more about her worries. she still never likes the idea that jack sees her Imperfect Parts, but at least she can tolerate the discomfort (and, yes, take comfort in it) now

(jack loves elsa's Imperfect Parts, and jack admits that he is Weirdly Proud and Competitively Honored to be one of the only people, even including anna, who gets to see them. he also is strangely Comforted and Validated that elsa is, in fact, not perfect because for a while there, he was pretty freaked out and intimidated by how fancy she is.)

until he realized that no one ever let her actually be a Weirdo before, and once he realizes the Truth of Elsa Also Being a Secret (albeit perhaps more Subdued) Weirdo, the Universe Aligns.

jack listens to elsa's Big Conversations intently, activating varying levels of Serious Mode.

jack is getting better at recognizing the moments when elsa needs him to play and needs him to listen or Give His Opinion or any combination of those things.

jack learns that it's not always about Saying the Right Thing (which he is not very good at, anyway, or so our Serially Unreliable Narrator thinks), but rather being able to read elsa's mood and anticipate what she might need (even if she is not aware of it herself yet).

elsa is meticulous about planning and preparing for special occasions.

elsa likes traditions! jack likes tradition only because elsa likes them, lol, and hey, okay, these are more fun than he thought?? (who knew fun could be organized??!!?)

so he really wants to show (off to) her by pulling off Incredible Planning Feats in her honor, too (they do not go as smoothly, lol).

jack will often go out of his way to spontaneously create something meaningful, a moment or a gift or a gesture, that reminds elsa that he cares. he is big on words of affirmation, gift giving (but like, souvenirs that he collects on adventures like, "i saw this rock and it reminded me of your cousin olaf, we should put it on the window after we paint his face on it"), and acts of service, as well as physical touch and quality time. HE WANTS LOVE. he wants TO BE LOVED. he wants to prove that he is worthy of being loved.

(and elsa has to get him to Chill Out sometimes, remind him that he doesn't have to Do Things For Her/Anyone in order to be deserving of care; he is more than what he provides for other people.)

(jack gets its, and appreciates it, but also, the Urge to Provide and Protect is still strong, even after so much time, and sometimes Old Habits Die Hard.)

i get the sense that he'd be the type to he wake elsa up in the middle of the night to take her on a surprise adventure, or convince her to Do a Fun Thing without any preparation (/warning).

and she would Be Alarmed at the Lack of Plan (especially if/when jack Did Not Think This Through), but he also took precautions to ward off Concerns by pacifying her with tea, or reassurances that yes, he did call ahead to make sure the restaurant was open before they left the house, of course he did, he would never just leave home without double-checking beforehand (and frantically googles it two minutes later when he thinks she's not looking; she is, naturally, and even occasionally pretends not to be).

elsa approaches conflict with a desire to resolve things Calmly and Logically. she tries to understand jack’s perspective, even when she disagrees, and she’s careful with her words, not wanting to escalate the situation.

however, she can sometimes withdraw emotionally, fearing that she might say something hurtful if she’s too overwhelmed.

jack was initially (and, honestly, still is, even though he understands more now) hurt by her tendency to shut down when she Feels Too Much, and understands (although it's still hard) that elsa needs time to process her feelings and organize her thoughts.

jack also helps elsa actually Feel her Feelings, instead of just trying to intellectualize and analyze them. (she hates it, BUT sees the value. jack lives for these moments in which he realizes that he's actually contributing positively to her life and helping her in some way, rather than just being a burden or a nuisance, as was/is his fear.)

his initial reaction might be to push for a resolution quickly, but he’s also deeply afraid of Creating Distance between them, so after the first few fights, he really makes an effort to find the right balance between Pushing Hard Enough and Not Pushing Too hard, so that he doesn't drive a wedge between them as they work things out.

jack FEELS intensely, and can be so stubborn. he does not always have the most precise vocabulary or tools to describe his thoughts and feelings, or identify the root causes of what is actually going on inside him; sometimes elsa asks a lot of insightful and guiding questions that help jack come to the conclusions himself, and other times, she Puts Into Words the very thing that he had been thinking or feeling, but could not name, and it is very reassuring to have someone who understands him well enough to be able to do that.

after conflicts or arguments, they take time to Decompress and reassure one another (especially if at least one of them, if not both, was Overthinking again).

when they argue (and healthy couples do, remember!), it’s a dance of patience and understanding: elsa might need a moment to Collect Herself, and jack learns to give her that Space while also making it clear that he’s ready to talk whenever she is, and that he is going to try very hard to be Rational and Patient About It.

in the end, they both prioritize their relationship over any disagreement, always finding a way back to each other.

[a-lonely-dunedain]

the "platonic explanation" is that I feel like shipping cheapens a perfectly good friendship and turns it into something shallow. Takes something that could have been interesting and turns it into just another dime-a-dozen romance you can find in a million other stories. Sands off anything cool or unique about the relationship and the characters so they can slot neatly into some little "A and B" dynamic. The Sunshine x Grumpy the Blue-coded x Red-coded the Cinnamon Roll x Killer. You just have to cut them down to fit in the Romance Box™.

Suddenly every interaction, every look they exchange, every word they speak, has to be seen through the lens of attraction, it HAS to be about the attraction, nothing else matters, they cannot have feelings about each other unrelated to that. If they like each other it's because they are attracted to each other, if they hate each other it's because they are attracted to each other, there can be no other reason behind their actions and feelings, nothing else about them as people matters anymore. They aren't people anymore, they aren't characters anymore, they are just "A and B".

The "platonic explanation" is that lately I've just found friendships SO much more compelling and freeing and cool, y'know? (obligatory ''I'm not bashing you if you like shipping I just Do Not Get It Personally'')

[thatscarletflycatcher]

One of the biggest problems of writing that Frasier post is that the logic of 90s comedies is not real life logic. It's not just that you can just pick which exaggerated thing to believe more (and sometimes you need to outright pick between two mutually excluding canon facts), but also the degree to which you believe anything. Which is fun for theorizing but also terrible for theorizing because to argue one way or another you need to create the fiction that the coherent narrative you are pointing out has value of truth in a universe where the value of truth is the rule of funny.

[tofufei]

the appeal of zhongli ofc is that he is very distinctly not human and clearly does not see the world as humans do nor feels as they do. and that he very much believes in doing right to his duty even if it does make him go through experiences that very much would've shaken someone's conviction. instead he just doubles down

[xiii-e]

//ooc posting: I NEED to find more fun/silly things to do with my two they are Not meant to be all agony all the time I swear- I just have a penchant for the dramatic and they're a little in the torment nexus o(-< but on god they will Have Fun too