#<- Still figuring out a name to use publicly. Bare with me here.

[pathofelation]

Just came back after a while and was immediately asked to handle our voter registration, only to find out the DMV issued our permit with the wrong name, and then immediately be convinced into talking to the DMV to figure out how to fix it.

So, anyways, I guess it's nice to be back.

[swordbeliever]

why i left transmedicalism

when i started this blog, i considered myself a pretty strong transmed, and while i’ve not been all that involved in discourse publicly, i had at least one post get a decent amount of notes & still get followers from that post so i figured its about time to clarify this:

i no longer identify as a transmedicalist in any way.

why?

while not an exhaustive list, heres a couple reasons:

my experience of transness is, at this point, barely related to my medical transition and the aspects of it that are are incredibly inaccessible. making these more inaccessible and requiring more hoops to jump through (especially for adults) does nothing to help the community or root out the “fakers.”

so many transmed talking points are repackaged terf rhetoric. i cant feel good agreeing on any trans topic with terfs. lol.

being a more “respectable” queer person does absolutely nothing. those who do not respect the “weird” trans folk will never respect you because you’re licking their boots and trying to be as normal as possible. (see: michael warner, the trouble with normal, 1999)

the main thing i’ve come to realize is that none of this transmed/tucute dichotomy is useful.

all it does is divide the community into two unnuanced camps who both think incredibly poorly of one another and are increasingly unwilling to discuss topics of interest. this is not the way to fight injustice. there are bills being proposed to limit any kind of medical transition for folks as old as 26. trans youth are being targeted constantly. conservative pundits spend the vast majority of their airtime spreading misinformation about trans topics and infighting does absolutely nothing to help this.

what changed?

i got educated. honestly.

i started looking for perspectives that were different from my own, actively. not on tumblr or tiktok or instagram but through longer form media. youtube creators like jessie gender and milo stewart have been huge for me personally.

i also started college & enrolled in queer studies courses, actually adding a minor in LGBT studies. through these classes i have learned so much about our history as a community and what is actually important in activism. i also started reading theory, which while hefty and daunting at first, is more than worth it in the end.

conclusion

so yeah, not a transmed. not a tucute.

i dont give a shit whether you have dysphoria or not, whether you present in a way that doesn’t align with what’s expected of your gender, what name or pronouns you use. i dont even present fully masculine anymore, because clothes and makeup and jewelry dont have gender dude!!! theyre just for funsies!!!

i intend to keep educating myself & reading theory, news, history, and other works by trans creators because thats what matters to me!

[bahandis]

( maris racal , cis woman , she/her , twenty-four ) ⸒ a little birdy told me AURORA “RORY” BAHANDI just moved to sunset hills . have you met them yet ? i heard them driving down the street playing TO HAUNT, TO STARTLE by PENNY AND SPARROW , they sounded a little pitchy but they had the spirit ! must be their favorite or something . hey … it looks like they just moved into MIDNIGHT PARK . have you heard about what they do for a living ? someone told me they’re a LIBRARIAN / ASPIRING WRITER , but who knows if that’s even true . guess we’re just gonna have to wait and see . nervous ? don’t be , i think you’re gonna get along just fine ! i can’t wait to see what they get up to .

hi all! i’m vee and this my baby rory! pls come love her. 

tw for death and grief 

when rory was born, the population of ojai, california went up by two, becoming a cool 6,324 as she along with her twin sister lindsay came into the world red-faced and screaming

her family was particularly the closest kind, sunday night pillow forts and friday and eating her mom’s adobo, listening to her dad’s records 

her family was a light, not without their problems, as all families are, but still enough for her

rory was a social animal growing up, she spent her weekdays playing volleyball and getting ice cream after school, often dragging lindsay along with her. 

she also found charm in her own quiet moments, reading every novel she could get her hands on or just whatever she picked up from the local library 

performing as rory got exhausting sometimes keeping up that constant state of energy and magnetism, this was when she would retreat to the library reading books and imagining another life for herself 

it was easy to figure out what she was going to do with her life relatively. there was nowhere she was at peace as much as the library, so she would be rory publicly, and aurora privately in the comfort of the library stacks 

the desire to write the next great american novel however came in her sophmore year of high school after signing up for a creative writing elective 

writing quickly became an outlet for all the things she felt unable to say, for someone so quickly distracted sometimes having a thousand thoughts a minute felt all too much 

the manuscript she’s working on now she’s been pounding out since her senior year of high school, despite it’s completion she still mulls over its imperfections editing and rewriting chunks 

though arguably she’s mostly looking for an excuse not to submit it to any publishing houses because she’s terrified of rejection 

it seemed like she had her entire life ahead of her to be so full of joy but all things must come to an end eventually 

two years ago her sister lindsay graduated college with a bachelors in biomedical science. though overjoyed rory had caught a nasty case of strep throat and was relegated to her bed for the week 

though as lindsay embarked she’d promised she’d bring leftovers from dinner with their parents. that was the last time she would ever see her, or the rest of her family 

in the blink of an eye her family was there and then they weren’t 

it wasn’t until aurora was watching the steel corpse of their minivan being pulled away by a tow truck that it clicked. she was alone 

the grief was overwhelming, she felt like she was being eaten alive. family flew in from the philippines to help with the funeral but rory was a husk of a person, body acting on autopilot just to sleep 

everywhere she turned they were reminders of her family. for two years she wallowed in her grief barely getting by until the pitying looks and the memory of it all became too much 

a month ago she sold her parents house, stuffed was little belongings remained into a uhaul truck and moved to sunset hills 

the anonymity was intoxicating, here nobody knew her story, nobody even knew her name. 

she’s not quite the rory she used to be, she’s still figuring out who she is after everything, and trying to make a life here despite it all. 

[ferociouslycreativemystery]

Some reasons Young Royals isn't for me

First off, this show is in the ballpark of Skam or Sex Education, which to me seem more focused on juicy interpersonal drama than character development. That's a choice, but a choice that means there is very little of interest left in the story for me.

The "Te-he, look it's little Sweden relevant in the Big Wide World" tendency rearing it's ugly head, from the plot with The Royal Scandal of Global Interest and the International Student, to the world of the show which feels more like an American High School than a Swedish Gymnasium, to the title of the show being in English instead of like... Unga monarker or smth. As a nation we're so obsessed with having the appearance of perfection and progressivism, and then actual issues go ignored cause they don't fit the narrative of "Sweden the Good". We're the try-hard kid who pretends they're oh so amiable but is constantly humble-bragging and trying to get noticed by the teacher to get a pat on the head for doing the bare minimum, if even that.

Along that vein, the very comfy focus on class and sexuality while completely ignoring or glossing over less established/more controversial topics like race and racism. Class has been a if not the major topic of political debate and action over the past century, while racism has been considered more or less irrelevant or even non-existent. Which is of course complete BS.

Even some of those class issues are like. not how it works in Sweden? They mention a few times the divide between private and public schools, so for context: no one has to pay any tuition ever to attend any school at any level here (except for maybe kindergarden?). Private and public schools are all funded entirely 100% by taxes, by law (from ages 6-16 kids don't even have to buy their own pencils and notebooks). The difference is that private schools are still allowed to make a profit, which means if they don't use up all the resources the state provide them with, they can just take that out as juicy Free Money. What does this incentivise? Private schools want to enrol as many already high-achieving students as possible while rejecting those who need more support, so that they can spend less on education and take out more in profits. This is a confirmed problem, with private schools admitting certain students while telling others there is a long waiting list to get in. And of course you're more likely to be a high-achieving student if your parents have time and money to offer you more support at home, so there is a link to income here. This is also exacerbated by the right of parents to, if they wish, choose another school for their kids than the one they're automatically assigned to. Which parents have the time and skill to first figure out and then continuously send their kids to a better school? Those who already have a comfy life set up for themselves. So rich parents = private schools = better results for the kid is true to some extent, but not in the extremely simplistic "pay teacher get better grades" way presented in the series. (Should also be noted though that many of the schools with more name recognition and prestige are old and therefore often publicly owned, so nothing is black and white.) I could go on about more fucked up things about our schooling system, but let's keep this relevant to the series.

Basically, this is a show that constructs its own reality to deal with its own made up problems, then pats itself on the back for having 'progressive ideals' while giving no commentary on actual real life issues (either out of ignorance or because that would be controversial and not profitable). I only mention all of this because the show presents itself as interested in politics. These are themes the creators chose to include in the story, and to me they have not just executed these poorly, but also misleadingly, which is arguably worse. It's shallow and satiates a desire for political commentary despite offering no thing of any real substance. It's feeding a hungry audience nothing but simple sweets. Fine for a teen drama, but not to my tastes.

[tomwambsgans]

man, i like your blog and shit but if you're having ocd meltdowns whenever someone has a different interpretation of the characters, it makes engaging with you kinda impossible. it's a small fandom and is getting smaller each day, don't spend half of your time complaining about other people's fics and posts and then act surprised when the vibe sucks

is this solely in response to that one recent late-night rant i posted? bc i'm getting the sense that this may also be about posts on my main, and if it is, then tbqh i'm gonna say that i need somewhere to vent for venting's sake or else i'll go even more insane. so like, i'll concede that maybe i should just remove my main url from my blog bio or something. but other than that, i try genuinely hard to keep my fr meltdowns to myself and, when i make meta posts on here that are fueled by the motivation to reassure myself, to still cite my sources and whatnot and put real meat in the posts bc it's really important to me to not feel like i'm talking out of my ass. and also to make posts that other people will want to see. my recent more personal posts about it are bc lately i'm not having a good time re: ocd and i genuinely kind of cannot tell how insane i look to other people. like, i want to know so that i can figure out how to get back to semi-normal.

i'm also really never actually Surprised about the vibe sucking btw (and i'm not saying that that's how i would even describe my feelings. just like, if we're calling it that), i'm just frustrated. i do try very hard to avoid seeing things that make me upset and to balance that with trying to maintain passion (by keeping this blog active), and that leaves me with bare bones. i'm well aware that i'm the one with The Problem, and i promise i hate it more than anyone else possibly can. i really don't try to make it anyone else's problem. ntm the vast majority of my ocd shit is kept off of here and stays entirely in my brain, so like, the "meltdowns" you've seen are kinda nothing lol.

on a more intellectual vein, i do wanna say that like half of all succession meta posts i ever see (especially the very good ones) are in some way covert responses, with some amount of disagreement, to other people's takes. it's like how scholars are all constantly arguing with each other. i don't personally feel the need to cultivate a fandom space where no one ever has their feelings hurt and all interpretations are only ever publicly regarded as equally valid in order to avoid it, or anything. fandom is for fun but it's obviously also a minefield of people with hyperfixations/special interests/ocd. it sucks when that seemingly winds up dividing an already small fandom, but my thing is that i am not going to have a good time in fandom if i restrict myself from one of the most beloved human pasttimes that is complaining. man i really don't even drop names when i do, i just describe general takes that i disagree with and give my own, thoroughly backed-up stance. i even admitted in that post that "i'm fighting a mostly imaginary person." if someone feels like it's about them and that really bothers them, they can unfollow/block and then go complain about me if they need to. the world is kind of beautiful that way.

i hope this all doesn't come off as hostile by simple virtue of being a long response, i just wanna hit every possible point and don't wanna risk being misunderstood. it's kinda my thing. and like, obviously i don't want to needlessly alienate people who otherwise like my posts, which you said you do. but also your message feels kinda hostile so if i do sound hostile i hope it's in a way that makes us even. idk who you are, you could easily be someone i've had conversations with and who I'll talk to more in the future, having no idea that you sent me this, and i think that's beautiful too. it's a wonderful thing that you can anonymously say something harsh to me, whoever you are, and not do any damage to whatever relationship we may have. i'm pressing our foreheads together. i forgive you. anyway i'm gonna delete that personal ocd post because it's paranoid and kind of self-destructive and embarrassing in hindsight. but my general nature will not change except incrementally so let's hope for the best ig

[survivor-marieta-islands]

Tribal Council #3 - Antigua - Old School

Amy, it’s no secret there are a ton of pre-existing connections on this tribe – people who have worked together and against each other in the past. How does that come into play with dynamics in this game? Or is this a blank slate, so to speak?

pre-existing connections were brought up last vote and I think how it affects dynamics is probably different for each player. As much as I'd love everyone to agree on blank slates, I think subconsciously that's not completely possible. Generally speaking, we know most people have some type of history, good or bad, but I haven't figured out how everyone is playing it yet.

Colin, I have a simple one for you. Do you want this game to have a swap? Why or why not?

I do want a swap, yes. Keeps the game fresh and fun. I don’t want to go into merge without knowing anyone from the other tribe. In a game with a lot of pre existing connections, trying to break those barriers pre merge is essential. 

JG, the idol hunt in this game is clearly pretty complex and has layers of twists, turns, advantages, and disadvantages. How’s your luck been? And what have you heard from others?

I love me a Jay idol hunt. A Jay idol hunt doesn't love me. I didn't even realize there was coins or something until it was brought up publicly. I've barely heard it discussed except when our elevator collapsed so as normal it's just alot of interactions and discoveries that lead to dead ends. 

Jinx, has anyone in particular emerged as a shot caller on the tribe? Do you feel that people are working together or waiting for others to throw out names?

In the words of Britney Spears -- there's only two types of people in the world. The ones that entertain and the ones that observe. AND BABY, I'm a put on a show kind of girl, don't like the backseat -- gotta be first! #FreeBritney

Maddison, talk to me about loyalty. On a tribe of so many hardcore gameplayers, is that something you can honestly expect? Or does it matter more than ever?

It’s tough to say because I think it really depends on the individual. Some people might be more loyal as a strategy while others see flipping as the way to go. I think it’s naive to expect loyalty, but I do think it’s important, especially at this early stage of the game. 

Raffy, there is a classic ORG curse of going home near your birthday. Do you think that will come to fruition for you tonight? How do you feel about your position in the game?

I think that it won’t. I feel good with my tribe and hope they wouldn’t vote out someone so pretty 

Steven, after losing two challenges in a row, how’s tribe morale? Do you have a sense if people feel hopeful about future challenges or not?

I think despite losing the energy is still ultimately positive. We can still easily even up the tribes next round if we win the next immunity so I don’t see that is much of a problem for us. I can only talk about myself personally when it comes to future challenges but I’m optimistic that we a large array of skills that will help us in future challenges. Also I noticed that next round is a puzzle challenge and I’ve been waiting for 2 years to compete in another one so I’m excited for that in the near future.

Zo, last round ended up being a unanimous vote, much to everyone’s surprise. Do you anticipate tonight going the same why? Why or why not?

I don’t think tonight will be the same no. I think our tribe is, unfortunately for the folks at home, not very messy so I don’t believe there’s any one clear target tonight. I think we all wish it was that simple but alas, the olds are quiet and tired!

Ellie was not able to answer a tribal question this round and was excused.

Voting video here.

First Vote: Steven

You are worthy. You are golden.

Second Vote: JG

This may be dumb [no bottom text]

Third Vote: Steven 

"Hey Steven I could give you 50 reasons" (music)

Fourth Vote: Ellie

In the words of Bella Thorne, “TTYLXOX”

That’s two votes Steven, one vote JG, one vote Ellie, five votes left.

Fifth Vote: Steven

hope to play with u one day bby

Sixth Vote: Steven

Sorry bud. Cards weren’t in your favor this time 

Seventh Vote, and the next person voted out of Old School vs. New School: Steven

Here's a chef pun for you! Why did the short chef quit his job at the casino? He said the steaks were too high

Vote: Steven

I really wish we could have connected earlier in the game because you seem so cool but it just isn't the way the cookie crumbled this time unfortunately.

Vote: Steven

I’m really sorry! Following what I think the majority is tonight. :( 

[pickledpascal]

Biological? I Barely Know Her!

Relationship: Benoit Blanc x Ezra Wayne

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: The day starts normal but quickly descends as someone from Ezra's past comes knocking on his door.

This day started like any other. Sun rays peeking through the horizontal blinds meant to keep them out but somehow, they always managed to make their way through. These little rays of yellow cast onto the sleeping faces of Benoit and Ezra who were joined at the hip. As the light of day grew brighter, the pair finally started to awaken. Mostly out of irritation the sun would even dare disrupt their slumber. Ezra sighed as he turned away from the window, getting out of bed while Benoit reached out for him to stay with a pout. This bed wasn't as comfortable without the brunet in it. 

Guess that meant Benoit had to get up too. 

Their small family had breakfast, got dressed, and started their day. Normal things. Ezra had to go on a call with his agent in hopes of getting a new role, meaning he was going to be holed up in his office for at least an hour or so. This left Benoit and Elle to fend for themselves for a little while… mostly Benoit. He was having trouble understanding the game Elle was playing on the TV in their living room. It was some adventure-based game with treasure hunting. He had to admit the main character was fairly attractive, perhaps because he reminded Benoit of Ezra. Although Ezra was a little less of an asshole.

It was making out to be a nice day. Decent with nothing particularly special about it. Though, everything could change at the drop of a hat. 

Hearing the doorbell ring, Benoit sat up from his place on the couch and went to see who was at the door. “Hello?” He asked once he opened the door. 

The man in front of him wasn’t someone he was familiar with. His hair was almost fully gray with a scruffy looking beard that Benoit could tell he never even attempted to clean up properly, worn out looking clothes, and red-rimmed eyes contrasting from the cold color of his irises. The man was under the influence, that much was obvious. Influence of what? Benoit couldn’t tell, neither could he quite figure out why the man was here in the first place. There could be a myriad of different reasons. Ezra Wayne was one who caught the attention of anyone within close proximity. 

“Who are you?” The man asked, a look of blatant surprise in his eyes and the lingering feeling of disgust. 

Benoit cocked his head, his eyebrows furrowing simultaneously. Did this man know Ezra? “I believe I should be the one askin’ questions here. Who’re you?” He countered, keeping a hand on the door. He wanted to be ready to slam it in his face. He was getting a bad feeling about this guy. 

Letting out a frustrated sigh, the man answered. “Jason. Elle’s biological father.” He explained, impatience laced in his voice. “Look, I need to talk with Lizzie right now so if you would just move aside and let me in, that’d be great.” 

Benoit’s eye twitched in annoyance. Sure, it wasn’t a big deal to Ezra when people used his deadname, it hurt, but he’d put out there publicly on purpose. This man, on the other hand, knew Ezra. Knew him for years. Ah, yes, everything was starting to fit into place. Jason was Elle’s father as he already admitted, but Ezra had sole custody over her. Perhaps he was still sour about that. Or perhaps he was sour about the fact that he technically was with a man all those years ago. 

“Ezra is currently on a call so come back later." Benoit narrowed his eyes at Jason as he closed the door. He wasn't usually one to be angry, especially not for someone else but this… he couldn't stand this. 

Ezra was out for a decade or more at this point and one person from his past couldn't change the name he used for him. It was frustrating. 

Jason jammed his foot in the door to keep it open. "Listen, here, asshole. When I ask for something, you better fucking believe I have the means to get it." He growled. 

The commotion caught Elle's attention. Just by his voice, she could tell who it was. Well, that meant it was time to add another man into the argument. Hearing what was happening from Elle, Ezra quickly made his way to the door. He was almost done with his agent anyway. 

"Oh, look who decided to show!" Jason smiled sarcastically as Ezra settled himself next to Benoit. 

"What do you want?" Ezra asked. His voice was clipped and if Benoit was on the other end of it, he was sure it would cut down on him in a second. So this was what Ezra was like when he was angry… It was unnerving. 

Jason hummed, "Well–"

"And don't say Elle or money, like Hell I'm giving either of them to you." Ezra quickly added, leaning against the doorframe as he crossed his arms. 

Jason pursed his lips. Ezra did have an inkling to every single thing Jason was going to say. He was a typical deadbeat dad, no redeeming qualities except for the fact that he had a small hand in starting Ezra's family. As much as Jason would like to think he did, Ezra did not owe him anything. 

That's when Jason's eyes flicked back to Benoit, studying him for a moment. "So who's this? Your new boy toy? You a big happy gay family?"

"Oh so suddenly I'm a man?" Ezra gasped sarcastically. "Must be the first time you've ever said that, thanks. That's really validating, actually. Thank you. Now get the fuck off my grass or else I'm calling the police." He then closed the door with a loud slam, his shoulders tensed. Ezra didn't want to entertain Jason even if it was fun to rile him up at times. 

Benoit placed a gentle hand on Ezra's shoulder, drawing his attention. "I'm not above going outside and knockin' 'em out." He admitted with a light laugh.

"I don't want you getting arrested for nothing. Especially if they somehow find out you're an accomplice to arson." Ezra countered with a smile, pressing a kiss to Benoit's cheek as he walked past him. 

Benoit's face fell, his heart dropping to his feet. "Who told you that?" He demanded. Ezra sat next to Elle and watched the game, a smug smile on his face while Benoit followed him to the couch. "It was Helen, wasn't it?" He narrowed his eyes, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

Ezra shrugged, leaving his answer ambiguous. But Benoit knew. He always did. 

[mae-dwrites]

Taking Flight - Chapter 9 - Come Again

| Masterlist | Previous | Next |

| Ao3 | Wattpad |

“Chloé please just talk it out with your mother! I'm sure you two could come to an understanding,” André pleaded following his daughter who had just arrived from school.

“No, I refuse to talk to that la putain!” Chloé’s face was already slowly becoming heated.

Honestly, her father should have gotten the memo at this point. She did not want to talk to her mother. Why would she? The woman had never been around, didn’t raise her, nothing. Hell, her father may have done better but there wasn’t much to beat really.

“Chloé Aristo Bourgeois! You will stop speaking about your mother in such ways at once!” André shouted behind Chloé.

“I can’t believe this,” Chloé turned around to her father. “Now you want to discipline me?”

The laugh that came out of Chloé made André take a step back. The guests couldn’t help but look over now. Many of these people had been coming and going from this hotel for years now and had even watched Chloé grow up. It was quite the show to many of them, but this would be the moment they’d waited for.

“You have not once tried to be a real dad for me, not once! But now that mom suddenly loves you again I have to be the one to play nice to keep her here? If you haven’t already figured it out she hates me. Her daughter! She’s supposed to love me by the rules of nature but she can’t stand me. Half the time she doesn’t even remember my name!” Chloé shouted, waving her arms as she made her way to her father.

“Yeah maybe you were here and yeah you made some effort. But it was still the bare minimum! Because all that really mattered was your stupid campaigns to become mayor, your stupid hotel needed to be perfect, just so you ensure that she wouldn’t pull a divorce!” Chloé looked her father up and down. She may be trying to be better but it didn’t mean it would happen overnight, especially not for her parents. No, this was for her.

Her mother could stay in New York, her father could focus on his oh-so-important big man offices. Someday these empires would fall to her and she would run them better. On the day they croaked she’d be more powerful having control of Style Queen Ind. and this Hotel would benefit her in the perfect home base. She didn’t need to be close to them, it was publicly expected for it all to go to her that they practically had no choice in the matter.

“Chloé you don’t understand,” André started but Chloé wasn’t going to let him change the narrative. He knew exactly how to, Chloé had seen it and he wasn’t going to do it to her. Not again.

“Maybe I don’t understand,” Chloé hissed. “But you have never tried to explain. You have never tried to be a real dad, so I certainly wouldn’t try now. You may be my father, but you have never been my dad.” With her head raised high, a position practiced so much, perfected so. It was only natural for her to make the movement, to look down on those who wrong her, to look down on those who so much as annoyed her. And the looks of fear and clear anxiety filling the one subjected to the look was a beautiful sight, it hadn’t always been but over time she had grown to love the fear the wreaked.

But André wasn’t as cowardly as he let others think, he wasn’t as much the baffoon he liked to show. Instead he stared his daughter down in challenge, because what kind of man would he be if he let his daughter think he was really scared of her?

“Chloé you will call your mother and apologize at once, and beg her to return home.” His voice suddenly low in an aggression not one of his guests had ever heard. It was the very same voice he had when he became Maledikator last month.

But it was the voice Chloé had heard his father use in meetings, the voice he used when he had talked to Mlle. Bustier about never saying no to Chloé, the voice he used on those she deemed had wronged her. This was a voice the public had never heard, nor one Chloé knew her father would allow them any time soon.

When she was little he had used this voice in his drunken state at her, then she feared it. She still did now, but this side would not rule her. When she decided to tell Audrey the equivalent of “fuck off” a bit of that was for her father two. In what way specifically she never really figured out. But obviously nothing she said truly got through her father’s thick skull.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Chloé said, a bored look coming back to her face. She left the lobby with her father yelling at her, berating her even.

That did not matter, she was paving her way finally.

-•-

Bridget tapped the pen on the notepad, she would throw away what she wrote after she finally wrote up the report. She had arrived in Paris last week and had yet to write a report, yesterday her laptop pinged at Donna was currently active in the system. Meaning she could possibly call her.

Bridget rubbed her forehead, Makzenie was down the hall and didn’t want to deal with the young teen overhearing her. She seemed to be a light sleeper, she couldn’t blame the kid. Bridget had met others like her, in similar boats in Gotham, New York, California, and so many other places while out on missions. Though most of her jobs were in the U.S. or China, she was sure her leading officer was not only jealous of her work with Diana but was…prejudice to put it lightly.

Bridget sighed and tossed the pen and pad on the desk in her room. It would just be best to call Donna to inform her, she would be able to get in contact with Diana. And while she did that Bridget would get the last thing she needed to contact Huang, a spell he had made especially so she could contact him when needed. While he avoided the JL or JLI, as he didn’t want to be a consultant to the group. He refused to even consider being a consultant, let alone a member of Justice League Dark, despite Bridget's constant begging for him to.

Huang was gifted in Bridget’s opinion, Huang glared at her every time she described him as such.

“It took dedication and years for me to get to this level, and I wasn’t even born to be a magic user.” Huang had once snapped at her.

Bridget let out a soft chuckle to herself as she got onto the JL system. It would be fun to mess with him when he was around.

Donna Troy - Status: Active - Access: Level 8 - Current Alias: Wonder Woman - Current Reach: At Watchtower

Good. Bridget sent a message for Donna to tell her when she was available.

Donna Troy: I am able to now if you are.

Bridget smiled at the quick message before saying she was.

“Hello BC,” Donna greeted.

“Hey,” Bridget said more casually. Donna fought a smile, Bridget couldn’t help but grin. Donna always failed to stay serious when Bridget was part of a meeting.

“So what was so important that you need me to get in contact with Diana for you?” The Amazonian asked. She was quite curious as to what exactly was going on, she knew that Diana had sent Bridget to check in on Paris. Diana had told her she had a feeling she had left the city right before something made itself known, but this feeling had only started up recently.

“Have you ever heard of Miraculous?” Bridget asked, her notepad at the ready. Donna tensed before allowing herself to relax. Bridget raised her eyebrows, “You do.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Donna felt a sliver of pride for a moment. How Bridget could be easy-going and friendly with everyone before going serious mode had been something she admired. According to her friend it was just something her family could do, not like a switch but mostly.

“They’re magical jewels, with little god creatures that grant the wearer powers based on what concept the god encompasses. They have a few main powers that every wielder of the jewels gets or can use, but everyone can develop their own powers. Hippolyta was one of the frist weilders of the Ladybug Miraculous.” Donna explained, “I don’t know much more than that. Diana does know more, and with her at Themyscira I’m sure she can get more information about the Miraculous from her. I will send a message and will await her response.”

“Thank you,” Bridget smiled at her friend. Donna smiled back before giving a warning, “Of course. And be careful, the Miraculous can be far more dangerous than you can imagine.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you for the concern,” Bridget said with a wave. Bridget slumped in her chair after she ended the call.

Children were running around in tight magical suits that could essentially destroy the world, possibly the Universe.

“Wonderful,” Bridget muttered into the dark of her room.

[pcyshi]

Cigarettes After Sex. Optional Bias Ver.

|| Optional Bias x f!reader

|| genre: fluff, suggestive

|| warnings: cigarette usage, mentions of sex

|| Requested: YES / NO

please tell me if there are anything more i should add on the warnings also feedback is appreciated p_p

summary: the title itself?

A/N: This is the Optional Bias ver of my CAS fic! PLEASE tell me if you see a different name here and not H/N 😭😭😭 try to listen to cigarettes after sex while reading 10/10 recommended (also reading this late at night is not a very bad idea)

H/N slowly unwrapped his arms around your bare waist as he slowly stood up from his position and sat on the side of the bed. He couldn't quite sleep after a very intense sesion between the two of you. He slipped on his boxers, shorts, and his shirt that he used as his inner shirt before slipping his sweatshirt which was now laying down on the floor. Discarded.

Reaching out to the small table beside the bed to get his lighter and cigarettes before he slowly made his way out of the bedroom to the connected balcony on the left side of the room. Sliding the door ever so carefully, being very cautious about his actions. Trying not to wake you up.

He leaned his elbows on the rails of the balcony. He stared at the midnight view of the city before releasing a deep sigh as he took on stick and started to light it up with his other hand covering the flame due to the cold wind passing him. When he successfully did, he bounced it slightly around his lips and teeth before using his right hand to pull it away and breathing out the smoke. Moments like these were also healing to him (though cigarettes does not heal your body in a good way, btw) it was a moment to reflect on his days. That's why when he told you that there is going to be a balcony on the bedroom, he was so excited to spend nights admiring the view.

He was so immersed in his thoughts when he didn't even realize that you had also woke up due to the lack of warmth. Your blanket was kicked of, only covering your hips and not feeling your boyfriend beside you. You stretched your arms and wiped your sleepy eyes just to figure out where he is right now. There is no way he would just leave you without waking you up.

Finally spotting him, his body was bent against the rails due to his very tall figure. Then later on you saw him breathing out smoke. You smirked a little just because he had recently asked you if you were okay with him smoking which you agreed to. You just told him to not do it on a daily basis unless he wants you to subconsciously spill side effects of smoking and to the people around him.

You also went up and picked up the nearest shirt you can see on the floor which was his sweater. Slowly, you also started to wear your underwear and shorts before walking towards the balcony to join him. You slowly opened the door and hugged him from behind which you could tell, he was surprised by your actions. Assuming you were still in your dream land.

He giggled at your actions knowing that you tend to get very into skinships after sex. He pulled your arms off him as he guided you infront of him, sandwhiching you between him and the railings as he dropped his chin on the top of your head before releasing a contented sigh. You also stared at the view for a moment then slowly glancing down at his cigarette. "Why are you smoking this late, mister?"

"I don't actually know why but smoking after sex is good. It's like the spark from the sex combines with the warmth of the cigarette or something" you laughed at his argument. You have never really tried smoking as you know this is not a very healthy hobby. It was no surprise to you when H/N asked you if he could smoke for a minute for the first time as he had already portrayed this side of him publicly. The wind was coming from the right side of your balcony hence, he faced left to exhale the smoke from his body for you to refrain on inhaling most of it. Very thoughtful of him.

"Can I try?" You asked him with puppy eyes and with a small pout. He laughed at your actions but he admit, he could never resist this pleading. "Fine but do it slowly. If you can't do it don't do it but remember it ain't my fault if you started smoking too"

You rolled your eyes when he said those words to you. He slowly leaned the tip of the cigarette to your mouth. Opening your mouth and trapping it slightly between your lips as you inhaled slowly but soon failed when you started to cough out nearly everything you had consumed. He also started to laugh but he knew this was normal for a first timer.

Few minutes later you had tried to inhale and exhale it and succeeded for 3 times without coughing your lungs out but it really wasn't your thing and H/N could sense it by the looks of your face. He kissed the side of your forehead before discarding the cigarette on the ash tray before he hugged you tightly from behind, mutually still, admiring the view.

NAVIGATION

[jxtina-86]

The Mess

All she wanted to do was support him. All he wanted to do was protect her. Set at Wrestlemania 31. RomanReigns/Alexia. See here for the rest of the series/order to read

Warning: Smut/Language

Rating: MA

Alexia's POV

The first thing I feel is his warm breath on my neck. I'm curled into the pillows, hair strewn across my face and my, or rather his, shirt ridden up to just under my breasts. His arm is over my hip, his hand splayed over my stomach as he breathes easily against me. This is why I miss him so much when he's away. This is why I'm beyond grateful to have spent the last week with him, over the moon to share his bed, his life, his space.

The last few months have been... Well, they haven't been easy, to say the least. The push, the time away from home, the reactions, the criticisms. His voice on the phone has been a bittersweet mixture of excitement and weariness. His texts were short and not exactly sweet at times. His anxiety seeps through into every aspect of his life and whilst I do my best not to take it personally, it's hard to separate work and life sometimes. The times we have spent together have been plagued by short tempers and petty arguments. And although the making up is as sweet as it could ever be, there have been times where I've wished that it was all just a little simpler. But every time that feeling has crept up on me, I've pushed it away. I'm here for him, no matter what. I've been through the last year with him. I've watched him have to publicly separate himself from one of his best friends and although when the cameras are off, things are as they have always been, there is still a tingling of tension.

I run my hand over his, sliding my fingers against calloused skin. This is why the last week has meant so much. To just be with him is enough for me. But to be with him in the build-up to the biggest moment of his career is an honour. A year ago, he was just a figure on a screen. Today, I'm curled against him, overwhelmed with pride. I wrap my hand around his and pull it away from my stomach and up to my mouth. I press my lips lightly against the tip of each finger.

Roman shifts behind me, his body moving instinctively closer. Before this reunion, it had been almost three weeks since we'd last seen each other, let alone shared a bed for a whole night. He flew back for less than 24 hours and my body was raw for days from our antics. I slept in our sex sheets for almost a week before I caved and swapped his scent for laundry powder. So when we tumbled into bed four days ago, the first night was spent fighting over the duvet, each of us used to being spread-eagled across the entire mattress.

The shirt rides higher on my back and I can feel his heated skin press against my exposed flesh. I tug at his hand, moving his arm around my chest until I'm cocooned in his embrace. I run my fingers lazily over his arm. He groans and I smile into the pillow.

“What time is it?” he grunts into my neck.

“Still early.” I let go of his arm and reach to brush the hair from my face. I twist in his arms to face him, taking in his closed eyes and dishevelled tied back hair. But he's far from dozing; his arms locking behind me, pulling me tightly against him as he eases his leg between mine.

He murmurs in approval as I press my hands against his bare chest, a groan escaping as I scrape my nails over his taut skin. “Good job I don't go in the ring topless anymore.”

I giggle, envisaging the light scratch marks I constantly leave on his lower back. “You shouldn't tease.”

“Can't help it, Sexy Lexi...”

I let out a low moan as he whispers his pet name for me. The way his tongue wraps around the L always leaves me slightly breathless. He likes to mumble it when he's between my thighs and the movement from his tongue is always my undoing.

His leg pushes between mine with more determination and I let him, shifting my top leg over his. Large hands caress my shoulders, plucking at the shirt.

“Did I give you permission to get dressed?” Grey eyes finally meet mine, along with a cocked eyebrow. I feel my cheeks heating as I shake my head.

“I was cold,” I offer as an excuse. But it's not the truth and he knows it. When you're apart for so long, you cling to anything that reminds you of the other. And I'm a total sap and have developed a habit of sneaking his worn shirts into my pyjama collection. It's a habit that's hard to break, even when I've got him right next to me. I still crave his scent, need his essence wrapped around my entire being.

Roman slides his hands up under the material, his fingers digging into my shoulders so he can pull me down to grind against his thigh. I gasp at the contact and then groan. I might be wearing his shirt, but that's all. I catch his eye and I know he can feel my wetness too. One hand starts to work its way south, to hook under my leg so he can slide his fingers against my slit.

“Fuck, Lex...”

I squeak in response, my hands gripping his forearms as he flicks across my clit once, twice. And then I let out a very un-ladylike grunt as a thick finger pushes into me. But I might as well have let out a porn-star moan, the way his eyes darken. His tongue darts across his lips before his mouth crashes against mine. His finger slowly pumps in and out of me, his thumb refusing to leave my clit. I can feel his dick jabbing at my stomach and I try to move my hands so I can touch him, but they're trapped. His body is tight against mine, full of resistance that's only matched by his determination to get me off.

And I love him for it. I whisper it against his mouth when he pulls away for a second. His lips twitch for a second and then he growls it back at me. I roll my hips in response, wanting more, always wanting more. He relents, pushing a second finger inside me, stretching me for him and only him. I push down, feeling his fingers fill me to the hilt. He scissors them briefly and I flinch, moaning into his mouth. His thumb continues to roll over my clit and I can feel myself tensing around his fingers as I climb closer to my release.

He pulls away from my mouth, pressing his forehead against mine, his grey eyes holding my gaze as I whimper.

“You're close, aren't you Lexi?” he whispers, his breath hot and heavy against my face. I can't even form a response, I can barely nod in reply. “Good girl. You like my fingers deep in you?”

I groan, my eyes fluttering shut as he curls both fingers forward.

“Look at me, Lexi...” My breath catches in the back of my throat as I force my eyes open. “I want to see you cum. You look so beautiful when you do, Lexi.”

I can feel his hand cupping the back of my head, his fingers tangled in my bed hair as he holds me to him. His fingers curl again and I jerk at the sensation, my mind clouding as his thumb bears down on my clit harder than before. His grey eyes pierce mine as my vision starts to blur.

All I can feel is his fingers. All I can see are those eyes. All I can smell is him. All I can hear is his voice, coaxing me through my climax.

“That's it, Lexi. Fuck, baby. Squeeze my fingers, go on... Cum for me.”

A strangled scream escapes my mouth and my eyes squeeze shut as my body spasms uncontrollably. His lips brush against mine as I tumble from my high. His fingers slide from me and he eases my leg from his waist, his hand staying on my hip, squeezing it as I loll against him. I sneak my hands up to cup his face as he kisses me, sliding my fingers back through his hair. He murmurs in appreciation as I graze my nails against his scalp.

“Y'know, it's still early...” I whisper. I can still feel him hard and ready against my stomach. I drop one hand from his hand and push it between our bodies. But before I'm even within touching distance, he pulls away from me.

“Lex... No.”

I mock-frown.

“Not this morning. Not today.”

He rolls onto his back, his arm still around my shoulders. He pulls me against his side, but I prop myself up to look down at him. “Are you sure?”

Roman's arm slides around my waist, rolling against me so his head nestles against my stomach. “Need everything I got for tonight.”

I ease the band from his hair, so I can run my fingers through its full length. “I know.”

“Or is this way of telling me you're not quite satisfied...” he teases and I slap his shoulder playfully.

“You know I can never get enough.”

He chuckles, his head nudging my shirt higher so he can kiss bare skin. “That's my girl.”

We lie in silence. I know tonight is going to be tough in more ways than one. The crowd, the opponent, the potential for so much to go wrong. I'm nervous. More nervous than I've ever been. I haven't asked what's gone on behind closed doors. I don't want to know, I fear for what's in store, no matter how rehearsed. I fret over misplacements, missed spots, clumsy moves. But I have to put my faith in him and others. All I can do is just be here, be his rock until it's over.

He presses his mouth against my stomach one last time before he eases away. “I gotta get to the gym.”

“Do you want me to meet you afterwards?”

He nods, distracted as he unearths a pair of shorts from his suitcase. I lean back against the pillows for a moment, watching him dress. When he disappears into the bathroom, I follow. He stands in front of the mirror brushing his teeth. I trail my hand over his shoulders as I pass, grinning over my shoulder when he taps my ass in return. Opening the shower door, I turn on the water and then step back to strip. I can feel his eyes on me as I drop his shirt to the floor.

“Sure you don't want to join me?” I wink.

He leans forward, spits and rinses his mouth. “Don't tempt me.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

I go to step into the shower, but he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me against him. “Tonight.”

“Tonight.” I echo, breathing in his minty breath as he leans down to kiss me.

**

I lean back in the chair and flip my phone in my hand. I'm in my usual pre-show spot; a table in the canteen, this one up against the far wall, out of the way. Although this isn't my first time backstage at a show, it's certainly the one with the most pressured environment. I dodged past technicians, producers, writers, Divas, other Superstars in the warren of corridors, everyone on a mission, with someplace to be. The usual backstage atmosphere only heightened to a level I hadn't previously witnessed.

Roman text me a few hours after he went to the gym to say that he'd have to meet me here instead. He'd been called into a meeting with the production team last minute. I shrugged it off – if there's one thing I'm used to by now, is that things don't always go to plan. Delayed flights, cancelled flights, last-minute PR appearances all add up and make you quite a forgiving person. Not that it wasn't frustrating at first. Not that they came with their fair share of bitterness. Until I was the one standing at the airport, fighting to keep it together as I watched flight after flight get cancelled. Three days together, cut down to none in one go – both of us stuck on different sides of the country, nothing either of us could do. I realised how helpless he must have felt all the times before and there I was, making the same phone call he'd made countless times before. Although my call came with extra tears and wailing as I waited for a cab back to my apartment. I could almost hear his shrug on the other end of the phone as he told me these things happen and hey, we still had next week...

The times where it all just clicks into place? Fuck, those times are the best. When he manages to get an earlier flight and is there waiting for me on the couch when I get in from work. Or the one time he wasn't due back till late morning but I woke up to find him crawling into bed next to me at 4am. I smile wistfully, remembering when I got to do the surprising for once, knocking on his hotel door for once, watching his eyes light up as I tugged open my coat to reveal nothing beneath it. My love for surprises has grown. My spontaneity levels increased. My need, my lust, my love for him trebled.

A hand cuffs me around the shoulder and I snap out of my daydreaming to see Dean looming over me.

“Sup Lex,” he greets me, sliding into the seat next to me and pulling me into his arms for a quick hug.

“Hey, charmer. What's up?”

He shrugs as she settles back in the chair. “Killing time. You seen Reigns? He said you were coming in together? Don't tell me he's deserted you already.”

“Nope. He got called in for a last-minute meeting, so I made my own way here.”

“You should've come found me, I'd have shown you around.”

If there's one thing I've learnt about Dean over the last year is that despite the rough exterior and the playboy ways, he's probably the best friend anyone could ask for. In turn, that friendship has been extended to me. Over the last few months, Roman has been called into many meetings before and after shows. Hence my secluded canteen spot. But the minute Dean cottoned on to this, he was there to keep me company.

“You don't have to babysit me, I'm sure you have better things to be doing, especially on a day like today.”

“Humour me.” He gives me his wide-eyed stare and I laugh. “Have you been out there yet?” He nods towards the door, to the corridor that undoubtedly leads to another that will finally lead out to the ramp and centre stage.

I shake my head. “No, I was going to lat-”

I barely finish my statement when he's up and tugging me to my feet. “C'mon. You gotta see it before it fills up.”

I follow Dean through the corridors, listening to him as he talks animatedly about his match tonight. I'm not sure if he could sense my nervousness earlier, but if he did, he's doing a pretty good job of trying to distract me. He glances over his shoulder at me as we round a corner and suddenly the space around us opens up and I'm starting up at thousands of empty seats and the clear blue sky.

“Pretty cool, huh?” he grins.

“Yeah.” I gulp. It's bigger than I imagined and I can't even begin to fathom the scene that's going to greet everyone who walks down the ramp later.

We make our way towards the ring and as we near I see Roman deep in conversation with one of the production team. He leans easily against the barricade, arms crossed over his chest, nodding slowly. Every so often he gestures towards the ring and then listens as the other man responds to his question. As we approach he glances up and catches my eye. I offer him a small smile and hang back as he finishes up his conversation.

“Hey, man.” He fist-bumps Dean before he slings his arm around my shoulder and pulls me against him. I look up and let his lips brush over mine. “Hey, you okay?”

I nod, sliding my arms around his waist and squeezing gently. “Yeah, you?”

He doesn't answer me. Instead, he turns back to Dean. “Good luck tonight.”

“You too, bro. See you later, Lex.”

Roman's hand finds mine as he leads me away from the ring. I reach over to rub his arm through his sweatshirt and something inside me starts to flash in warning as I feel the unexpected tension in his arm.

“Did your meeting go okay?” I venture as we head back inside. He doesn't answer me once again. We press our backs against the wall as technicians roll large cases past us and I chance a look up at him. The easy expression from outside has disappeared, replaced with pursed lips and a furrowed brow. I squeeze his hand, but he continues to stare stoically into the distance.

“What's with the silent treatment, big guy?” I fight to keep the annoyance out of my voice, but the way his jaw clenches makes me think I didn't try hard enough.

“There's been a change of plan,” he says as we start to walk again.

“I told you. I – ”

“You've said. You don't want to know.”

Now it's my turn to purse my lips. I haven't wanted to know the details, not because I'm not interested, but because I don't want to worry. And he knows that. We've talked about this plenty of times over the last few weeks. Ever since he started preparing in fact.

“I've told you why,” I say slowly.

He shakes his head. “I need to talk to you about it.”

“Why?”

We round a corner, coming to a dead end. “It's not going to be pretty.”

“No shit.” I crack a smile, trying to lighten the tense mood. But I falter when I see he isn't smiling. He leans back against the wall, fists in his pockets as he keeps his gaze away from my face. “Fine. What is the change in plan?”

“I... It was always going to be a brutal match. I knew that.”

“I know.” I reach out and run my hand over his arm again. “Look, I know it's going to be a fucked up match. But I'm prepared for that. And whatever happens, I'll be here.”

“That's the thing... Lex...” He scuffs the toe of his sneaker along the floor. “However prepared you are for this, I just... I just don't think you're going to like what you'll see.”

“Ro, c'mon, I've seen you in plenty of matches.” I've been ringside, backstage, watched him on TV religiously since the last summer. I've winced my way through many a match before. How is tonight going to be any different?

“Not like this one.”

“If you don't want me out at ringside, then just say it.”

He looks up, finally meeting my eyes. His grey orbs are glistening at the edges and realisation slowly creeps over me.

“You... You don't want me to watch at all?”

“Lex, don't be mad. I just think –”

“Think what, Roman?” I take a step back.

“I just think it would be best.”

“What would be best? Go on, say it.”

“Lex, don't be like this.” He steps towards me and I skirt out of his reach.

“No, I have every right to be like this. You asked me to come out here. You said that you wanted me by your side every step of the way. Isn't that what I've done for the past six months? I've been here, for you. I've watched you work so fucking hard for this and now that we're here, you don't want to share it with me?”

“Share what, Alexia?” he snorts. “I'm not going to fucking win. What is there to share?”

I blink, tears stinging my eyes. “You think I'm just here for the glory? Are you even listening to yourself right now?”

“I'm going to have the shit kicked out of me. You want to watch that, go ahead, be my guest,” he growls. “I just thought I'd save you from that sadistic little experience.”

“Oh, so now I'm taking pleasure out of this? Christ, Roman. What's gotten into you?”

“Into me? Oh, I'm sorry is the fact that I'm about to humiliated after talking myself up for the last three months not supposed to take its fucking toll? You want to share in that?”

“I want to share everything with you!” My voice echoes off the walls and I take a shaky breath in the deafening silence that follows.

Roman's voice is low, steady, prepared. “Please, Lex. I'm asking you to do this one thing for me.”

I press my lips shut, not trusting myself to speak. Not because I'm worried about what I'll say, but because I can feel myself shaking, my eyes burning from tears that are threatening to fall. I know the minute I say something, I'm going to crack. And I refuse to crack.

“Talk to me, Lex. I know this isn't ideal and trust me, this isn't what I wanted to happen. I've been going back and forth all week on this, trying to work out what the right thing to do is. And after this meeting, I know that I really don't want you to be here when all hell breaks loose. Is that too much to ask?”

Yes.

“Lex, please.” He reaches forward, his fingers brushing over my hand. I let him for a second and then step away. His eyes soften, his expression shifting from frustration to pleading. “C'mon...”

I swallow and beg myself to keep it together. “If you didn't want me here distracting you, then you shouldn't have asked me to come here. At all.”

“It's not about distraction.”

“Yeah, then what is it about? Because that's the way it looks to me. I'm a distraction and you're being told to keep me out the way. That's the truth, isn't it?”

“No,” he starts. But I've had enough.

“Fine. I'll go. Mission accomplished. Distraction gone.” I move past him, dodging his hands.

“Fuck. Lex, come back.” I can hear his footsteps behind me, quick and heavy. His fingers flutter around my wrist for a second and then he grabs hold.

“Let go of me, Roman. I'm going. You don't want me here, so I'll go back to the hotel. Hell, shall I just pack and leave the state too?”

His grip tightens and I pull hard against him. “No, don't... That's not what I meant.”

“Ro, you're hurting me!” My voice finally cracks and I can feel tears spill down my cheeks. My hand finally slides from his grip and I stumble back, rubbing my wrist.

“Lex, I'm sorry.” He backs away, holding his hands up in apology, his face awash with concern.

“For what? Hurting my wrist or my feelings?” His face starts to crumple, but I'm too angry to care. The knife is in and I'm too busy twisting it to care about anything else. “Go have your stupid match. Go get the shit kicked out of you. You don't want me here, fine. But I'm done giving a crap about what happens to you.”

The bitterness hangs in the air and I want to kick myself. But it's too late. His face has darkened, his mouth clamped shut. I open my mouth to apologise, but he's already turned on his heel and stalked away. My sorry is barely a whisper.

**

Roman's POV

“FUCK!” I slam the door behind me. What the hell just happened?

I lean against the door, my chest heaving. Holding my hands up in front of me, I watch them tremble. Closing my eyes, all I can see is her tear-streaked face. How did I get this so fucking wrong?

All I wanted was to keep her from seeing me utterly destroyed. Was that too much to ask? I thought of all people, she'd be the one to understand. The last 11 months have been an eye-opener for her and I know there have been times where she's kept her mouth shut after a particularly bad fight. I've noticed the flinches out of the corner of my eye as she notices the bruises on my body. I thought I was doing her a favour.

Who wants to see the person they love and care about being flung around like a rag doll for the purpose of entertainment? It might be my choice, but I don't want to inflict it on her.

There's a knock at the door and I take a shaky breath before I heave myself away and open it.

“Hey man,” Seth greets me. “I just wanted to come by and say thanks again...” He frowns. “You okay?”

“Yes,” I say, my voice tight. “Look, it's cool man. I'm happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Seth eyes me suspiciously. “Where's Lex? Thought she'd be here.”

“She was.”

“Was?”

“I asked her not to watch the match.”

Seth's eyes widen.

“Don't you fucking start,” I mutter, turning away and heading for my bag. Behind me, I hear Seth close the door.

“Take it that didn't go down as expected?”

“I thought I was being considerate.”

“More like you wanted to salvage some pride.”

I freeze, my hands curled around my vest that I'm halfway through digging from my bag.

“You asked her to come all the way out here,” Seth continues “And then at the last minute, you tell her that you don't want her here. What did you expect to happen?”

I turn to face him. “I didn't want-”

“If this,” he gestures between us. “If this, wasn't about to happen, would you have said anything?”

“Maybe.”

“Bullshit. If we hadn't just had that meeting, she'd be sat here with you. She'd be out there cheering you on, no matter how much Lesnar got over on you and at the end, she'd be here waiting for you.”

I shake my head. “I still-”

Seth laughs. “You keep telling yourself that. Look man, tonight is big for all of us. You sure you don't want Lex to be a part of that?”

“She thinks I've told her to go because she's a distraction.”

Seth raises an eyebrow. “Did you correct her?”

“I tried.”

“Not hard enough.”

I chew my lip. “She said she was done giving a crap about me.”

“You told her to leave. What did you want her to say?” Seth shakes his head in disbelief. “You're a dick, Ro.”

“Fuck you.”

He stands. “Whatever, man. Look, just call her. Tell her to come back. You can't go out there with all of this hanging over you – that's a fucking distraction.”

I grunt in response and he finally takes the hint.

He pats me on the back. Tells me that he'll see me in the final meeting before the match.

“Call her,” he insists as he walks out the room, leaving me with my thoughts.

I lay out my gear on the table and step back to look at it. Taking a deep breath, I reach into my pocket for my phone. I toy with it for a second and then switch it off.

No distraction. Focus.

I toss the phone back into my bag and lean forward, tracing the logo on my ring vest. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to think of anything else but Alexia's face, her disappointment, her anger, her frustration. But she won't budge. I slam my fist down on the table with a shout.

Focus.

I keep my hands on the table, not trusting myself to not turn around and pick up the phone and call her and beg her to come back.

I can't do this with her here. But I can't do this without her. Her final words echo around my head and I pray to God, to anyone who'll listen, that what she said isn't true. I've stumbled so many times over the last few months and she's been there to pick me back up. I need her to be there for me tonight, I need to feel her arms around me, her mouth at my ear, telling me how much she loves me, no matter what.

I let out a raspy breath. I wonder where she is, what she's doing. Footsteps drum past the door and I hold my breath each time, waiting for her tentative knock. But it never comes. Because she's not here. Because I sent her away.

**

My ears are ringing when I make it backstage, the adrenalin the only thing keeping me from collapsing on the spot. The dull ache in my back switches up a notch as I limp away from the noise, the cheers and the boos. I wince as I turn a corner, my ribs on my right side twinging sharply.

I speed up as I approach my locker room, desperate to get inside and to take a moment to myself. I push the door open and fling my vest towards the table. It misses by a long way and slumps to the floor. I follow suite, only this time on the bench.

Leaning back, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Relief floods over me as I realise that three months of hard work has come to an end. I reach out to the side and grasp at thin air. I feel a stabbing pain in my gut, but I know it's not from anything that's happened in the last thirty minutes.

Alexia.

I open my eyes and stare around the empty room. If she was here right now, I'd have her scooped against me, my mouth on her's. If she was here right now, she'd be telling me to pick myself up, get showered, dressed and out the door. She'd be dragging me to the car, kissing my knuckles during the ride back to the hotel. But I guess tonight I'll be hitching a ride with someone else.

Heaving myself up, I grab the vest from the floor and start to strip out of my boots and pants. I shower, taking my time, letting the water beat down on my sore body. Afterwards, I stand looking in the mirror, assessing the potential for bruising. I turn to look at my back and notice pale yellow patches between my shoulder blades. I reach to touch them, grimacing as they tingle under my fingers.

I scowl at myself and push my hair back. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I head back into the locker room and pull out clean clothes from my bag. Only then do I remember my phone and switch it on. It buzzes several times and I scroll through the messages from friends and families. My thumb freezes over the final one.

Sexy Lexi

1 image.

I pause for a second, preparing myself for the worst and then I brush my thumb over the message to open.

My mouth goes dry.

Lex stares up at me, her expression full of fuck you. I notice that her image is slightly off centre. And then I realise why. I'm there, in the background, on the ropes. The shot is taken during my entrance. How the fuck...

There's no message, just the photo.

Why didn't I see her? She was front row after all. I would have seen her. How did I miss her?

My phone buzzes again in my hand. I stare at the message dumbly.

Surprise.

The three dots appear as I read the one-word text over and over again. And then:

I'm sorry.

I frantically tap out my own apology, followed by:

Where are you?

The door creaks behind me and I whip around. She stands there, tugging an oversized hoodie around her body, which also covers her head as well. Her dark hair protrudes and as she meets my gaze, I see her eyes are bloodshot. I walk towards her and pull her into my arms.

“I'm so sorry,” she mumbles into my chest. I brush the hood back from her head and run my fingers through her hair and tug it gently, forcing her to look up at me.

I shake my head and fresh tears run down her cheeks. “Don't be. I was a dick. I should never have asked you to leave. I'm sorry.”

“But, I said-”

“Doesn't matter.”

“I didn't mean it.”

“I know,” I murmur, leaning down to press my lips against hers. She softens in my arms and I sigh with relief. “Why'd you stay in the end?”

She pulls back and raises an eyebrow. “You think you can get rid of me that easily?”

I chuckle. “No.” I pause and run my fingers over her cheeks, wiping away the dampness. “Thought I'd come pretty close though.”

“You did.”

I press my forehead against hers, cupping her face. “I won't ever again. I promise.”

“That's a mighty big promise,” she whispers against my lips.

“I mean it.”

She nods slowly, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, my wet hair dampening the sleeves of her hoodie. “I want to share everything with you, Ro. Everything. Whether it's good or bad. Whether you're winning or losing, I don't care. I just want to be with you and support you.”

“I know. I missed you tonight.”

“I missed you too,” she sighs.

I press my lips against hers one last time before I pull away to get dressed. I feel her eyes watching my every move and when I drop the towel, I grin as I hear her exhale slowly. I cast a look over my shoulder and catch her eye.

She bites her bottom lip, tugging on the sleeves of the hoodie. Only then do I notice it's got my logo on the front. I smile and she frowns. “What?”

“Nothing.” I turn back to pull on my sweatpants and grin to myself.

**

I lean forward, pressing my body against Lex as I reach for my toothbrush. She giggles, squashed between me and the vanity unit. I straighten as I start to brush, but I keep her pinned there, holding her gaze in the mirror, telling her once again how sorry I am.

I can't thank my lucky stars enough that she's still here. Even in the car back to the hotel, I kept casting looks her way as if she was going to disappear into thin air, a figment of my imagination all along. But she stayed, catching my eye and offering me small smiles. I reached across and fingered the cuff of her hoodie until she shifted in her seat and moved closer to wrap her arm around mine as I drove.

She leans forward, her ass pressing into my crotch and I splutter a groan.

“Easy, big guy.”

I scowl as I manoeuvre around her to spit into the sink. “Tease,” I mutter.

“Likewise.”

I grin, thankful that we're back to this. The easy back and forth.

But I realise that I've been a dick to her about this on more than one occasion. One too many texts that ended in a snappy comment from either one of us, the other having pushed too far. The phone calls that ended in hang-ups when I was in too dark a mood to entertain being civil, even to her. The time spent together would result in petty arguments over nothing.

I've been too caught up in everything else to see that perhaps tonight was just the end result of the last few months. That my asking her to leave was the cherry on the cake to all the other shit that had been happening on and off between us. That she had every right to be pissed at me for not immediately jumping to correct her when she called herself a distraction.

I stick my brush under the running water and finally step aside to let her move so I can rinse my mouth. Now it's my turn to be pushed against the sink as she wraps her arms around my waist and presses herself against my back. I shut off the water and straighten up, shifting my arm to tug to my side instead. I gaze at her in the mirror, her eyes still slightly red, but her olive skin is light and fresh, free of the streaked make-up that was my doing.

“Bed?” I ask.

She nods and I tug her back into the bedroom. She goes to move away from me, but I stop her, pulling her back to me as I push my hands under her shirt.

“Let me.”

I pull the shirt up and over her head, tossing it to one side as I smooth her hair. She lets her arms fall back slowly, but I catch them bringing her wrists to my mouth, kissing away my irresponsible aggression from earlier. “I'm sorry I hurt you.”

“S'okay,” she murmurs. But I know it's not. I press my mouth back to her wrist again, this time parting my lips and running my tongue over the red mark left from my fingers.

“It's never okay.”

She uses her free hand to tilt my chin so I meet her eyes. “You don't have to keep apologising.”

“I do.”

She shakes her head slowly. “No, you don't. We forgave each other. Now's the time you stop apologising and we show each other how much we care.”

“I can do that.”

“Then do it.”

I press my mouth against her wrist one last time and she smiles lazily before she cups my face and pulls me to her. Her mouth is as hot as ever, the mint adding an extra kick as her tongue slides against mine. She reaches behind her and I hear the snap of her bra as she undoes the clasp. I help her slide the straps from her shoulders and then cup a breast in each hand, using my thumbs to brush over her already hardened nipples. She gasps into my mouth and I feel her hands slide up under my shirt, her fingers digging into my abs. I pull back for a second to lose my shirt and then I'm back, my mouth crashing against hers as I nudge her towards the bed. She sits on the edge, pulling me between her legs.

Her mouth breaks away from mine, trailing down to my chest, her tongue flicking over my right nipple as her nails scrape over my shoulders and down my arms. Her fingers entwine with my mine briefly as her tongue heads south and she starts to press open-mouthed kisses to my stomach. My dick is hard, my sweatpants doing nothing to hide my need for her, but she takes her time. Fingers run around the waistband and she edges them down slowly, kissing the exposed skin.

I groan in desperation as she finally releases my dick and curls her hand around the length. Looking down, I meet her eyes and reach to brush her hair away from her face, my fingers lingering at the back of her neck as she presses her lips against the tip of my dick.

I let out a guttural moan as I feel myself disappear into her mouth. Her tongue tickles the underside and I squirm. She pulls back and giggles up at me. I hold her gaze and my stomach tenses as she doesn't break the look as she takes me back into her warm mouth. I could fucking cum just watching her, the sight of my dick between her lips, my hand at the back of her neck, encouraging her, praying for her to take me in further. Her other hand rests on my thigh, but I know it's only a matter of time before she scrapes her nails over my balls and makes me curse loudly.

Not that I'm already at that stage...

“Shit...” I grunt out, as she lets go of my base and takes me fully into her mouth. “Holy shit, Lex. How'd you do that, baby? You're so fucking good at it.”

Her eyes shine in appreciation and she hums her response. My hand tightens its grip as she bobs her head back and forth. One of her hands sneaks up to press against my stomach and I tense and then curse as she fucking winks at me, her hand sliding over my hip to my ass. She clutches it firmly in her grasp, pushing me into her mouth.

I don't need to be told twice and I start to rock my hips forward, matching the pace she's already set for herself. Her hands rest on my thighs but offer no resistance as I fuck her mouth, heat pooling low in my stomach, gathering strength as I near my release. She moans around me and my knees start to buckle as I scoop her hair up into my fist and use it as leverage to get myself off. Her eyes still focus on mine, but they're hazy and I know that when I finally strip her of her pants and underwear, she's going to be fucking dripping for me.

A finger brushes over my balls and I hiss loudly.

“Lex, Christ. I'm gonna fucking cum, baby,” I warn her as I piston forward once, twice and grunt out her name as I unload in her throat. I feel her swallow around me, easing me out of her mouth, licking me clean.

I step back with my shaky legs, ridding myself of my sweatpants entirely. I watch as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You okay?” I ask as I run my fingers down the side of her face, bending low to kiss her softly.

“Of course,” she smiles up at me and I swear to God, I'm the luckiest fucker in the world.

I push her back gently and crawl over her, brushing my lips over hers again before I sink to nip and suck at her neck. My hands brush over her sides, her breasts crushed against my chest. I shift slightly to let my hand between us and pluck open the button of her jeans and slide the zipper down. She wiggles against me, her hands crashing against mine as we both slide her jeans down her legs. I growl in frustration, pulling away from her neck and easing back. I grab her legs and pull them over my thighs as I roll the offending material away from one leg and then the other.

I watch her chest rise and fall as I caress her skin from ankle to knee to upper thigh. Her hips buck impatiently and I chuckle at her pent up frustration. Hooking my fingers in the waistband of her panties I slowly tug them away to reveal her sex to me. My mouth starts to water as I watch the material peel away from her wet lips and I speed up to toss her panties away so I can touch, taste, smell her.

Lex's hand works its way through my hair, unknotting it as I kiss her from her knee up her inner thigh. I groan as her scent hits me and slowly push her legs further apart.

“Ro, please...” she whimpers above me.

“Please what?” I murmur my mouth barely an inch from her wet slit.

“Lick me.”

“Lick what, Lexi?”

She groans and I glance up to see her shaking her head.

“If you don't tell me, Lexi, how do I know what you want?” I whisper and her eyes flash open. I fight to keep my face straight. I know she hates the word I'd rather use. But when she says the other, it's like fucking gasoline to my desire for her.

“My... cu...” she starts to mumble, but my lips are already wrapped around her clit and the rest of the word is lost in a mixture of whimpers and groans.

I ease her legs up onto my shoulders, my hands gripping her hips and holding her down as I let go of her clit and trace my tongue along her opening. I push it in further, feeling her open to me as I let her taste run over my tastebuds. I groan and she hisses at the vibration it causes. Her heels dig into my back and I flinch ever so slightly.

“Shit, sorry,” she murmurs, sliding her feet away to plant them on the bed. Her fingers scratch my scalp in apology and I look up at her. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

I shake my head and let go of her hips to pull her legs firmly back to how I want them. I nuzzle her thigh as her toes softly press against my back. “Do your worst, baby girl.”

She chuckles and then her back arches, my lips back around her clit. I let her buck her hips this time, loving every fucking second she grinds herself against my face. One hand sneaks back up her body, my thumb and forefinger tweaking her nipple until it's hard and I can pinch it and make her swear loudly, make her juices run down my chin.

Her thighs squeeze around my head as she rockets towards her release. I lift her up to my mouth, my hands on her ass, pulling her cheeks apart as I suck hard on her clit. My thumb edges towards the tight hole, pressing gently as her body tenses and I feel her rising up off the bed. Her words are lost in the scream that echoes around the room.

She collapses back on the bed and I take advantage of her limp body by crawling over her, letting her legs slip from my shoulders into the crook of my arms. Her body bends obediently as I rub my dick over her wet folds.

“Ro...”

I lean down and kiss her softly, first on her mouth, then her cheek, followed by her forehead. “I got you.”

I slide into her slowly, watching how her body arches up to me. I lower my head, my mouth on her breast as I sink into the hilt. Her hands slide to clutch the back of my head, anchoring me to her as I start to thrust in and out of her.

“Yes... There... Fuck, Ro.”

Her words spur me on and I pull away from her breast. I slide back as far as I dare and then slam back into her. Her body writhes under me and my ego swells as she urges me on.

“Harder...”

I can feel a trickle of sweat running down my face as I steel my thighs and fuck her as hard as I can. Her hands drop from my head and rest next to mine on the bed, her fingers dancing over the throbbing veins in my forearms, wrists, hands. I take my chance and slide my hands over hers, pushing them above her head. Her legs move to my shoulders as I lean forward, bending her in half as I pound into her.

She kisses me roughly, biting my bottom lip. Her eyes are unfocused, but she's all too clear in her demands.

“Fuck... Harder, Ro. Make me cum...”

Her teeth nip at my lip again and then at my earlobe as my head falls next to hers.

“Give it to me, big guy,” she murmurs. “Make me yours.”

I growl against her neck. Guiding her hands to the bed frame, I wrap her hands around the thick slats. “Don't let go.”

I ease back, my thrusts slowing for a second as I re-position her legs to resting over my thighs. Her body stretches out before me and I can't resist reaching forward and pinching both her nipples. She curses under her breath as I drop my hands back to her hips and roughly pull her onto my dick. Her arms tense as she desperately grips the bed frame, her face contorted into a look of pleasure as I slam into her tightness over and over again.

Her mouth drops open as I rub my thumb over her clit and a half-strangled cry leaves the back of her throat as I feel her walls tighten in an almost death-grip around my dick. Her body rises from the bed as she plunges herself down on me and I'm there with her, my arms wrapping around her and pulling her to me as I thrust up into her one last time.

“FUCK!”

Her head lolls against my shoulder as we both breathe heavily. I stroke her back, unsticking thick strands of hair from her skin and tugging it up into a messy ponytail. I pull it gently, easing her head away from my shoulder so I can see her face.

She gives me a lazy smile, her mouth finding mine for a brief second. She lets out a happy sigh as I pull out of her, but I don't let her out of my arms. I shift her down onto the bed, hovering over for a second and then dropping to the side and pulling her flush against me.

We lie in silence for a second until she breaks it.

“Fuck, Ro. If that's what happens when you don't win, then I'm in for one helluva show when you do.”

I growl into her neck as she twists in my arms to face me. Her fingers caress my cheekbones and I let my eyes flutter close. I can feel her squirming against me.

“Cold?”

She nods and I know she's seconds away from crawling from my grasp and reaching for my shirt. I hold her firm, sliding my hands down over her back, rubbing slow circles to warm her up.

I chew my lip and then dare myself to say what I'm thinking. “Y'know, if you want to completely covered in me, you only gotta ask.”

She frowns and then her eyes darken. I roll her onto her back, her low giggles slowly turning into loud moans as I promise with my body, mind and soul to never let her go.

Fin.

[clairecrive]

“Finally” - Remus Lupin x reader

A/N : I’ve never done a Valentine piece before since I don’t really like this festivity and all. But I just wanted some Remus fluff and the idea popped out of nowhere so... here it is, hope you like it.

Also, requests for Remus and Sirius are open if you have any.

Warnings: none, it’s tooth rotten fluff

Word count: 1.2K

Tagging: let me know if you wanna be tagged in any of my work

"Hello, handsome boys," you greeted them in your usual way as you took your seat at their table

"Someone's chirpy this morning." Sirius pointed out with a smirk a suggestive raise of eyebrows. You rolled your eyes but smiled at him anyway. He knew why you were such in a good mood this morning but he loved you to tease and this occasion was too perfect to pass.

"Well, who wouldn't be when your faces are the first things one sees in the morning?" Despite your use of "you", you particularly focused on Remus who was in front of you. If the other boys noticed, they didn't voice it but Remus certainly did if the blush on his cheeks was any indicator.

Being his shy self, the werewolf looked down at the food in his place but you saw a small smile tugging at his lips. Receiving compliments from you wasn't unusual, your love language was exactly this. Although it could like flirting, your words were harmless and completely platonic.

It would stupid for anyone to harbor any kind of feeling for James, for one, given his very publicly displayed love for Lily. Or even for Sirius. As wonderful as he is, he's not exactly boyfriend material. At least not in this stage of his life. You much preferred having him as a friend and not benefiting from his attention for a day or two until he moved on to the next flower.

And Peter... well, you weren't even sure if he was into girls.

Remus, on the other hand, was a whole other story.

You knew that it was impossible for him to understand the underlying longing you put in the words specifically directed at him when you were known to act in a similar way to his friends too. If one would be very careful and reflect on the kind of things you'd say to him and then to those you'd say to the rest of the Marauders, the difference would be impossible to miss. But knowing Remus, always self-deprecating and with the lowest self-esteem ever, you know you needed to be more direct.

So you started to refer to him as 'your favourite'. Giving him even more attention and gentle words of affection than the rest of them. The others had caught up and masked it as a sort of inside joke between them, playing like they were jealous and that it wasn't fair. You were glad that none of them had said anything to him but you weren't sure that this was having the effect you wished it had.

So, since today was Valentine's day, you figured that it was the perfect day where you'd go big or go home. Despite your outside confidence, you were never one to put yourself out there like this. But this was Remus, your Remus, and even if he was to reject you, you trusted him to not make a big deal about this. Sure, it would hurt like hell and it would be hard to simmer down your feelings but maybe there was a small chance that you wouldn't have to.

"Soo, I'm not sure if you know what day it is, but-"

"What do you take us for?"

"Barbarians? of course we know what day it is."

"I don't know actually."

The boys all spoke beside Remus who was quietly looking at you again and laughed a little when you rolled your eyes at the other's antics.

"Today, my sweet Pete, is Valentine's day," you explained giving him a side hug

"And so, here's a little something for my favourite boys." And before they could say anything, although you registered their confused yet somehow flushed expressions, you pulled out from under the table four sunflowers and handed each of them to the still stunned and now blushing boys.

Honestly, it was so hilarious that they should give you an award for not laughing in their faces. the sight warmed your heart though. It was clear that they were not used to being on the receiving end of such gifts but that was exactly why you were doing this. Who said that flowers were only for girls? Sure you had given them your favourite flower but you had avoided asking them so as not to ruin the surprise.

"I've never been given flowers." Peter was the first one to talk, mumbling his thanks while carefully lowering the flower to the table before digging back into his breakfast.

"Same."

"I wish I could say I have never been compared to the sun before but that would be a lie."

"Of course, you'd be an ass about it."

"This was really nice of you, y/n, thank you."

The smile that Remus gave you was the biggest gift you could ever receive on such a fine day. His dimple was shining true and he looked so cute at that moment that you were barely able to refrain yourself from kissing him. Instead, you cleared your voice and reached for the biggest part of your plan.

"Actually, there's more."

"Oh, y/n/n, you really shouldn't have gone through so much trouble for us." Typical Remus, you thought, of course, he'd think he was a burden.

"No trouble at all. Besides, you didn't think that that was it for my favourite boys, did you?"

If it was possible, the colour that was now adorning his cheeks, was a new shade of red. You knew that he hated being put on the spot and so not wanting to embarrass him, you quickly handled the chocolate bar you had bought for him. It was his favourite.

"Wait a minute-"

"I thought I was your favourite!"

The cries of indignation of the two idiots you called your best friends filled the silence but your eyes stayed fixed on Remus who was still eyeing the chocolate like it was the most precious thing his eyes ever laid upon. Then, with a subtle flick of your wand, the letters that made up the brand moved and slowly composed a question: would you be my valentine?

Remus face though, didn't betray any change. His eyes didn't move. If he was confused he didn't show it, if he was deeply embarrassed because you put him in the position where he had to say no to you, he didn't show it.

You waited patiently for his response. Your eyes flickered after a while on the chocolate, thinking that maybe the spell had gone wrong and it showed the wrong question or something. It didn't. You had been practicing for a week and as a matter of fact, everything had gone accordingly. Except Remus reaction.

"You can say no Rem, you know. I won't be mad or anything and I promise that it's not going to get awkward-" you whispered thinking of saving him the embarrassment. It seemed like you had misread his reaction though, because before you could finish your sentence, Remus handed you something.

It was another chocolate bar.

It was your favourite, you noticed. However, it seemed like it was a special edition or something because instead of the usual brand name, on the packaging there was a drawing of a couple. Above the boy's head, there was a little cloud that read: would you be my valentine?

When you noticed, your breath got caught your lungs and your eyes snapped to Remus. This time it was him was anxiously waiting for your reaction but you didn't make him wait long. The big smile erupted on your face was spontaneous and finally, you could give in to your instinct and lunging over the table, you took his face in your hands and gently pulled him to you.

As you kissed him, you heard the boys around you voice exactly what you were thinking when you felt Remus kiss back: finally!

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain

The Falcon And The Winter Soldier (TFATWS) Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.3k

Prologue

Summary: Post-blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-blip world.

Notes: This series is based on the Disney+ series with my own interpretation as I include my OC in it. A bit late in the game, but I am back after surviving the whole of last year and now closing into graduation! When I knew that this series was out, I knew it was my chance to make a comeback here! 

This is a prologue to give background on the OC. Also, you will get some insight into her history and relationship with Bucky before TFATWS.

Please enjoy and leave a like, reblog or comment to let me know what you think! 💖

This is also the unofficial series masterlist:

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven |

----------------------------//----���————————

Wakanda, 5 years ago

“Hey, I just fed you!” Your brows furrowed in frustration as the little runt of a goat continuously followed you to nip on your loose cotton pants.

You could hear a chuckle from the corner when Bucky came into your view. He was carrying a large sack of fertilizer that was to be used for your edible garden.

The frown on your face slowly curved upwards when you see the beautiful smile on his face. How can a single smile make your heart stop and beat wildly at the same time?

You quickly walked over to where he was, looking at how he bent over to set down the sack before flashing you another heart-stopping smile. From that moment, you only wished to always see him being this happy.

“Steve just wants you to pay attention to him.” Your lips quirked when you thought about how he had decided to name an annoying goat after his best pal.

“Can’t blame him when there’s a pretty girl around.” He continued before he proceeded to open the sack.

You did not know to respond to his compliment but you knew that you shouldn’t think more of it. Steve had told you before of how Bucky was like in the past before everything horrible that happened to him. How he was such a charmer with the ladies.

—————————----//-----------------------——

You wouldn’t have expected it, especially when you met him for the first time. When your powers first revealed themselves in an accident while you were barely a teenager, you found yourself panicking at what was happening to you.

You started finding yourself on the run from Hydra before S.H.I.E.L.D got to you. Taken under Coulson’s wing, you were only supposed to be an asset under close surveillance so that you would not fall into the wrong hands. When you became a young adult, you signed up to be an agent seeing how Coulson was close to you like a father. You wanted to follow in his footsteps to help the world become a better place.

However, given the fact that powers make you a target for Hydra, Director Fury asked you to keep your powers on the down-low. You weren’t allowed to use them in front of others and it was a kept secret amongst the higher-ups.

That all changed when the Avengers initiative was founded. You refused the title but accepted the offer to be part of the team. You once again find yourself at the hands of Hydra once it was revealed that S.H.I.E.L.D was infiltrated from the inside.

You unexpectedly got kidnapped in the mess. When you met Alexander Pierce, you were promised to become an asset to Hydra whether you were willing or not. That’s when you first met Bucky.

You didn’t recognise him at first but the photos that Steve had shown you coupled with the ones you saw in the museum allowed you to fit the pieces together. You still remembered his expression when you first called him by his real name. He didn’t get it at first before you started shouting his full name. That earned you a slap from Pierce himself before he got Rumlow to haul you back into a cell.

As time passed in a blur, the last thing you expected was Bucky breaking you out of your cell and the two of you escaped together. You two stuck like glue throughout the entire time in Romania before he got involved in a crime he didn’t commit.

You fought for him and revealed your powers publicly for the first time. While he and Steve managed to escape, you were arrested for choosing the wrong side and being deemed a threat to global security.

Fast forward, you were brought to Wakanda with Bucky and Steve trusted you to take care of his best pal while he continued to be on the run.

Here you are now, living on a farm with Bucky ever since his programming has been removed. Even though Steve is his best pal, Bucky still feels a distance between him and Steve. They had been separated for more than 70 years after all.

While Steve had only the best intentions for him, Bucky knew he could never be the same old person he was before Hydra happened. Bucky felt like you were the only one who accepts him for who he truly is.

A broken man still trying to recover from his dark past. A man who will never be the same.

You never expected him to become someone else, but only embraced him for who he is. He was grateful that you were always patient with him when he fell into his terrible moods from the aftermath of his nightmares. Bucky felt even more blessed when he saw how you always make him smile and laugh more, reminding him that he is not truly alone and that you were someone he could depend on.

Bucky still feels like it is a dream that he now has you by his side. Who knew that the S.H.I.E.L.D agent that had been planned to become another fist of Hydra alongside him would be the closest person he had now?

The two of you shared more similarities than you realised. Both of you had dreamed of the day you two can stop fighting. Being exposed to the real world since you were a young teen, you started growing weary of it all. You had hoped to find yourself in social work once you retired from this life of constant fighting. Bucky didn’t have any plans for himself for the future but he always hoped you would still be willing to be there beside him.

It seemed easy to define your relationship, right? You two were definitely friends. Confidants, perhaps? There was a constant gnawing feeling in your gut if you two could ever be more. Your feelings for Bucky became stronger with the time you two spent together, but you weren’t sure if it was only because he has been the only constant in your life for the last five years.

While the two of you had your close moments, Bucky never gave the hint that it could allude to more. You weren’t super keen to ruin your friendship either. Bucky has become someone so important in your life that you did not want to lose him. There was no way you want to change anything even if it meant suppressing the growing feelings you had for him.

The thoughts in your head were suddenly interrupted when you hear people approaching. Turning back, you saw King T’Challa and Okoye approaching with more soldiers following behind carrying a case. Bucky stopped his current actions and the two of you proceeded to walk closer to where they stood. You could see the change in his demeanour when the two of you approached closer and saw the case to reveal a new metal arm- specifically Vibranium.

It was a moment of silence as everyone exchanged looks before Bucky spoke.

“Where’s the fight?” You could hear the dread in his voice. Your heart fell at his crestfallen expression, empathising with what he was feeling.

King T’Challa was not oblivious to it either but proceeded to give his response. “On its way.”

You didn’t realise you were holding your breath all this time until you let out an exhale. Looking over to see Bucky with a conflicted expression, your hand reached out to place your hands gently on Bucky’s left shoulder and gave a soft reassuring pat.

You mustered a brave front and showed him a reassuring smile.

“We will get through this together, Buck. As always.” Hoping your words would make him feel better, you were relieved when he returned a smile back at you.

Seeing your optimism no matter the circumstances (especially when the world might potentially come to an end), Bucky Barnes felt like he could do anything as long you were by his side.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Son of none

Based off this post: Aka Percy Weasley was abandoned by his family and I don’t think they realised just how much danger an 18 civilian blood traitor son would be when stuck behind enemy lines. Well never fear, a fic is here as if I don’t have any other drafts...any whoooo

@transparentfreakpursepanda

Warning for blood, torture, self loathing. Mentions of bullying and neglect. Cursing.

(Also while writing this I was listening to Polaris by Natewantstobattle and...yeah if you want more angst while reading this listen to them and think of Percy :)  )

Percy deserved this.

Knowing that didn't change things. It didn’t make it easier to make it duck past the office that had once belonged to Barty Crouch Sr without feeling dread and greif. As harsh as the man could be and that he had not bothered to learn Percy's name... Percy still mourned his loss. For all that he was, Barty Crouch Sr had been a good man.

Life at the ministry taught him quickly, that kind of wizard was few and far between.

He wondered if the look Barty Crouch Sr had shared with his son before his death wax the same his father had shared with him the day he left.

Maybe it wasn't wise to compare yourself to a deranged murderer, but if that's the kind of wizard his family thought he was...

"Weasley"

It was stern, drenched in spite that was not unlike his old potions professor. But sadly even Snapes treatment of him in class did not hold a candle to what was happening now.

Percy lifted his head, it felt heavy. Infact all of him felt that he was on fire. The figure infront of him came into focus, not that Perch could quite recall his name. Edward? No that didn't seem right. Not Edward was his wand in hand and looked very annoyed, his dark mark was on full display.

Percy became very well aware in that moment that he couldn't move. He was bound to a chair in a room that looked very much like a cellar. He was still in his ministry robes, though they were dirty and tattered and stained in something.

It took Percy longer than he should've to realise it was his own blood. Not that he knew where he was bleeding from. "You Gryffindors and your bloody stubbornness" sneered Not Edward, he was a broad man, towering over Percy.

"You're wasting my time, and yours of you don't hurry up and tell me where your family is hiding." Percy shook his head, defiantly even if his body protested at the sudden movement. "Like I said before, even if I did know, I would never tell you." 

And than Not Edward would shout profanities all the while using his subordinates to use Percy as target practice till he passed out. That had been the cycle for... Well he wasn't sure for how long. Apart from the first time when Percy had weaved a convincing story about the family heading to Romania to hide away with Charlie...a whole false hunt that ended with the brand he now had on his arm. 

But this time was different.

Not Edward smirked "thought you'd say that, no matter. We've found out how to get there attention, and they'll hand themselves over." Percy laughed, it was a strangled and it sent another wave of pain through his body.

Not Edward was still smirking, in fact if anything his confidence grew. "And better yet, you're going to the bait that brings them here." And that stopped Percy laughing at once, he was quieter. "What makes you think they'd come" the words were barely above a whisper that echoed throughout the room.

Not Edward (Percy really needed to learn this man's name for his own internal monologue's sake) rolled his eyes "don't pull that on me, you Weasely's are more attached than a bunch of grapes. Rest assured, they'll be coming one way or another."

With that he left. Percy tried not to think about the fact a death eater had more confidence in his families arrival than he did. His mind wandered to the day he left, guilt pooled in his stomach. No amount of head trauma would erase the disgust and rage in Arthur’s eyes, Percy knew at that moment he had lost all right to call the man father. 

He could never look him in the eye again, he couldn’t even look himself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. His mothers eyes haunted him, she’d been the only one to try to reach out but he had slammed that back in her face. Not that Percy should have been surprised, he’d always been a parasite. 

If anything they must’ve been relived to be rid of him. 

They wouldn’t come, he knew that. Than why did his heart race, did tears threaten to fall and his stomach churn at the thought? Percy thought of his siblings, young and old...they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Fred and George would mourn the loss of their favourite target, but they would move on they all would if they hadn’t already. 

For Percy though, this was the end of the line. 

_______________________________________________________________

Weasley family dinners were always something else, Bill knew this better than most. He smiled to Fleur who sat at his side, amusement on her face as they both watched Molly do as she does best. It was organised chaos at its finest, and while Shell cottage was a far cry from the Burrow, somehow it all came together. Harry was laughing at a story Ginny and the twins were telling, Charlie and Hermione were actually helping Molly along with Arthur. 

But even with how familiar it was, it was missing a certain brother rolling his eyes at the story and telling the true ending to the annoyance of the twins. Who would than direct the others to helping out with dinner to there mothers amusement. 

Percy. 

Ever since the watch, a muggle watch at that had arrived on his wedding day, with no name for the sender but only Bill’s name signed by an all too familiar handwriting...Bill hadn’t been able to take his mind of his little brother. His absence at his wedding and just seeing him around the house stuck out like a sore thumb to Bill. He wasn’t the only one either, he could see how his Mum would pause her eyes searching before looking down and moving onto something else.

Much like now when she put down the plates and realised that she’d left a little extra to the side. “Mum, I get that you miss him but you can’t keep doing this. Percy’s not coming back” the first to say it was Charlie, his voice soft like he was talking to an irate dragon. “Good riddance” that came from Ginny, in that whisper that wasn’t even trying to be quiet. 

Instantly Molly became much like a dragon. “Ginevera Molly Weasley, don’t you dare speak about your brother like that!” She yelled, hot tears burning in her eyes. “Molly...” Interjected Arthur, putting a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder “you can’t blame her for her anger. Come on, let’s dig in.” And that should have been the end of it but Molly turned to him, her own temper boiling. 

“Don’t you start, Arthur. Don’t you tell me I should be sat eating dinner while my son is out all alone.” She spat. “Mum, it’s fine Percy’s probably having high tea with the new minister, talking about the importance of  cauldron bottoms” snickered Fred, “pfft yeah, just sat around telling the dark lord about his book report” agreed George. Bill frowned, as did Fleur but that was nothing compared to Molly. 

Her gaze hardened and the twins shut up instantly, they’d never seen her this mad. “I dont care if you hate him, I don’t care if this isn’t my home...you speak of my son following HIM, get out of my sight now.” She said, slumping into a nearby chair. Bill stood up, putting his own hand in his mums which she took gratefully. “Percy may be the most ambitious lion around, but he wouldn’t join you know who. He left to join the ministry because that's what he believed in, death eaters isn’t even in the equation.”

And Bill meant those words. More than he ever thought he would. 

“Though is there any difference between the death eaters and the ministry anymore?” Asked Harry, the place was filled with them after all. “Yeah? Might be but they’ve kept the employees, not that I know what’s going on in there anymore.” Said Arthur, adding his 2 galleon’s into the mix. “And there not going to take kindly to a Weasley” Said Hermione, making everyone look down as if they hadn’t just realised that. 

It didn’t matter if Percy had disowned himself, his family was very much publicly fighting the people he was now stuck with. 

And that was when fate decided to be extra cruel and the radio burst into life. 

“Greetings from the Ministry. Our daily transmission has already been received today but we have an exceptional treat for the wizarding public. We will be instead hosting an interview with one of our newest employees, give a hand folks to Percival Ignatius Weasley.”

Everyone in the room froze, and yet Ron who was the only one of the family minus Fleur not to speak, ran to the radio and put the volume as loud as he could. 

“Say hello your family, Percival.” Taunted the voice, it was very gleeful as it spoke. No response was heard. “Oh, silly me I forgot how many hours you young people work, not to worry let’s get him up boys.” 

A splash was heard and a shuddering scream. “Morning Percival, sorry do you prefer Percy? Don’t care, lets start the interview. So Percival, how are you finding the ministry?” Everyone sat with baited breathe.

And yet it was there Percy who, through shuddered breaths managed to whisper a “fuck you...fuck you and your ministry”

“Well that is very rude, and here I thought your mother would have taught you manners” “don’t...don’t you talk about her.” Said Percy, Molly broke down into tears and Bill held her close. Unable to tear his gaze from the radio, no one could. 

“What do you want to say them? I’m sure they’ve missed you. In fact, just for you we’ll be hosting a party. And there all invited to the ministry, so long as they bring a certain Mr Potter.” 

There was a silence before “don’t come...don’t. Whatever you do, don’t... it’s fine. I’m fine, I love it here.” He laughed, everyone cringed at the sound he made, as if he was choking. “It’s fine, don’t come...parties are overrated yeah.” The transmission started cutting off, Ron frantically along with the twins tried to get it working. 

They heard “too busy. Don’t come, Harry don’t...stay where you are!” Before the  transmission cut off.

No one could speak, horror was etched into all of there faces. The twins were scrabbling over themselves with wand in hand to track where the transmission had come from. 

The Ministry. 

“We’re going...now” said Molly, standing up. Her tears were gone, grabbing for her wand and coat. “Molly...be rationale, we need to plan this.” Said Arthur, Molly spun on her heel and glared. “I am not going to sit here while those...monsters torture MY son! Planning will take to long, did you hear him Arthur?! Did you hear your son crying out in pain...he doesn’t have long left...” Arthur looked down, unable to respond. 

Molly looked at the rest of the family, her gaze saying it all: You can come with me or you can stay. The first to stand was Bill, closely followed by Fleur who met his thankful gaze with a determined smile. Charlie and Ron were next, grabbing there wands with Harry and Hermione following. Ginny and the twins exchanged guilty looks but stood. Arthur couldn’t look at any of them, he simply picked up his wand. 

“Harry, I understand if you wish to stay” said Molly, he shook his head. “I might not know him well but Percy’s family 2...I cant sit here while you guys go even with the danger.” He replied, and somehow that was all it was, Percy was family...enough said. 

And so the family of lions got up and left, to find the one they left behind. 

_______________________________________________________

Percy was terrified.

A part of him argued that he should be grateful they came at all for him. Maybe it was out of pity, out of ensuring that he wasn't able to be used against them.

Yes, that's all it was. He was nothing afterall, he was merely a civilian in a war.

And yet hearing Molly tearfully and frantically whisper his name. Hearing Hermione yell the counterspell to his imprisonment to Ron who did so perfectly. Seeing the light of spells cast by Ginny and the twins to stun Not Edward... (Who was apparently called Edgar... Eh close enough.)

Feeling Charlie carry him in his arms, mumbling curse words. Smelling Arthur's cologne.

It all felt right. It was warmth that he couldn't remember experiencing. It was enough to lull him to a facade that everything was fine.

But when his wounds were healed and he saw them all looking at him... Percy knew he had to shelf that dream. "I told you not to come" was the first thing he said, averting his gaze. (Couldn't look them in the eye)

"And you must've lost a few screws if you thought we wouldn't" said Bill, meeting Percy's gaze. "You shouldn't have" is all he replied. "And what, let you be killed by the ministry?" Gaped Ginny. Percy shrugged "wouldn't have made much difference, you've only gone and put yourselves in more danger."

"Are you... Are you fucking with us right now?" Asked Fred, incredously. "No, im too busy ranting about cauldron bottoms to do that." And if Fred paused, Percy didn't see it.

Seeing as no one was getting anyway, Bill sat beside Percy who immediately felt on edge. "Thanks for the watch" he said simply. Everyone blinked in confusion and than realisation as no one has known where Bill's new watch had come from. Percy smiled faintly "You're welcome, reminded me of you."

"Although, I do wish you could've gave it in person" continued Bill, testing the waters. Percy surprised him by shaking his head "no you wouldn't have. It was your day, I wasn't going to ruin it." Bill frowned "is that what you think?" Percy shrugged again "it's what I've been told."

"You are way to chill after being tortured" said Charlie, Percy looked at his bandaged arms and snorted. "Eh? It's nothing new. That guy was just there for the theatrics, sadist if you ask me." Charlie raised an eyebrow "nothing new?" Percy nodded "yeah, what you think the ministry that's so far up Voldermorts ass would allow me to work there without some 'interviews'."

Everyone paled.

"But than why stay there?" Asked Arthur, Percy froze. Steeling himself, switching from calm to panic to calm in an instant but they all saw. "I've got business there, things I need to get done and ensure are done. Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue but I should be off."

He didn't belong here. Not anymore.

"Percy, you can stay." Said Molly, already standing up to get his room prepared. "No, I can't. I have work, I have a duty... And I'm no longer part of this family." When he said that, Percy felt like the wind was knocked out of him but stood his ground. "Percy... That's not true.."

Percy met Arthur's gaze, his father's eyes. "Really? Than pray tell why did no one tell me you were all in hiding... Or a warning? And don't say it was impossible because I managed to send a parcel to a location I didn't even know about nor knew existed."

No one could answer that.

"I'll be off, and don't worry I won't tell them anything. Just do what you do best, and leave me alone." Arthur managed to grab Percy's wrist though he hissed in pain and pulled his arm back like he'd been burnt. "Don't.. Touch me, Arthur Weasely."

Arthur recoiled, Percy looked away. "I spent my whole life wanting to be someone you could be proud off...I listened to all the critism and yes I was a prat. But the moment I made my own choice you already made me aware I didn't belong in my own house. I’m sorry...that I’m not athletic like Ginny, I’m not smart like Ron or as successful as Bill and Charlie, I’m not a hero like a Ron or fun like Fred and George. That I’m just plain ol prat Percy.”

He began to walk away. Just like he did before.

"That choice was against following Dumbledor, turning against the light." Said Molly, wanting him to understand. Percy laughed, with no humour at all but glaring hard. Rage emanated from him.

"I'm sorry if I choose not to stand behind an old coot who routinely sends an abused boy to his abusers, who nearly got 3 11 yearolds killed because he wanted to weed out a possibility. Who nearly got thousands of children killed and did nothing to save Ginny with the chamber. The man who wouldn't give an innocent man a trial and got him sent to the worst prison for 12 years... Who put teenagers in a death game and let an underage kid join because why not. That man is a monster and I refuse to follow someone like that. But no that means I'm blindly following authority." He sneered, staring at them all.

"And the ministry? Because as corrupt and fucked up as it is I know I can do something. That changes can be made in the systems to benefit everyone, Dumbledor is someone who breeds child solider’s and let's a known abuser teach at his school and somehow I’m the only one who isn't okay with that."

And with that Percy left, no one knew what to say. They simply sat in silence, absorbing everything they just heard. Ginny thought about how Percy had profusely apologised after she was free from the chamber, how he’d made time for her since than. Ron thought of all the times they’d have an adventure and Percy would watch over them like a mother hen. 

Bill and Charlie recalled when Percy would still come to them for help before he started Hogwarts. When they found him bruised and broken from bullies except this was because of them. “He really thinks that doesn’t he...?” Said Fred, George nodded. Neither could smile, guilt pooled in their hearts that they didn’t think he felt like that. 

Molly sobbed for her son who was once again lost and Arthur wondered where he had gone wrong to lose his son all over again. 

________________________________________________

Meanwhile Percy entered a muggle flat in London. Alone again just like he belonged, laying on his bed and looking at the brand on his arm.

'Son of none'

And if that didn't hurt most of all.

Suffice to say they all things to think about for when they’d meet again. 

[softluci]

hello yes can i just say i l o v e d your gen z hcs and may i acquire more

for starters, i am not religious, but i am PRAYING you don’t think i was ignoring your ask. i’ve been thinking about it since i got it, it’s just that i’m a college student with worms for brains, so hopefully you understand. this is something that i’ve had on my mind for a long time [i’ve been at this on and off for months], and it most definitely can be associated with/attributed to gen z. 

for a fleeting, wonderful period of time, there was a trend on tiktok that went, “buss it, buss it…” are you familiar? 

that should be enough of a summary, right? ah—for future reference, “o7” is like a saluting emote, for anyone who might not know. reader is g/n as usual, enjoy!

[a/n: so because this is so long, this part is going to be, like, the lore, and then the actual headcanons will be right here]

trendy 

the two things most corrosive to the human spirit are easily named—capitalism and boredom. while it would be easier and less taxing to explain the former, the latter was the problem at hand. it’s not that there was nothing to do in the devildom—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that you wanted some time to yourself every now and again. the trouble with trying to take time for yourself in a completely new location, the residents of which are always enamored with you in one way or another, is that there isn’t anything to do. the house was full of adventures for you to take—the trap door under the rug in the library, the other trap door under the dining room table, the small door behind the couch in the living room, and whatever other poorly hidden doors your seven roommates thought you didn’t know about. 

trouble was, you didn’t want to leave your room. you, intelligent creature that you are, knew that the chances of you running into mammon or satan or beel or asmo were all too high, and even higher were the chances of you agreeing to spend time with them if they asked, and you knew they would. what were you to do? 

you stared at your ceiling from your bed, d.d.d. resting on your stomach as you let your mind wander. your d.d.d. was full of things for you to do, the devildom’s ethernet at your fingertips, but you weren’t interested in finding new things right now. you wanted something familiar, like—like your phone. 

what was the point of lucifer taking your phone, anyway? it’s not like you could use it—being here rendered it a useless brick of glass and metal, so it wouldn’t have been a big deal if you still had it. it was funny, though, that you couldn’t use your actual phone when it was still possible to access the human internet from down here. 

at least, you assumed so. 

how else would levi be able to keep up with his human idols, get tickets for their shows—the works, you know? luckily, you were fully capable of asking. 

d.d.d. now in your hand, you rolled onto your stomach and found your messages with levi, nails clacking against the glass as you tried to reach him.

hey, you texted, can you help me with something?

his reply came faster than you expected: ?? what do you need 

how do i access human websites and apps, you asked, rolling onto your side. you know how to, right?

lololol, it’s not possible :p

a grunt, more aggravated than you’d care to admit, escaped from the back of your throat.

don’t lie. 

a few minutes passed with no response, and you wondered if you were too harsh. 

“he’s a sensitive guy,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply. “i probably came on too strong or something.” 

just as you started typing out an apology and a, “forget i ever said anything,” you got a response. 

a vpn and a proxy site. 

a smile crept onto your face as air came out of your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you could muster. 

can you set it up for me? 

after another few minutes of no response, you sit up, wondering how you could’ve possibly fucked up a second time, your d.d.d. buzzed. 

levi sent you a file and a link, with a host of instructions. 

click on the file and it’ll take you to the vpn you need to download. don’t worry about bugs or anything, i made it myself. 

you let out a low whistle, flopping onto your back once more. 

“this guy gets up to more than i thought,” you said, eyebrows raised. “someone get this man some physical affection.” 

you continued to read, growing more fond of him with each sentence.

once you install it, pick the country whose network you want access to. from there, you’ll have a list of that country’s most used applications available for you. again, don’t worry about bugs. 

what’s the link for? you asked, excitement getting the better of you. 

for when you download internet applications. it’s added security, paste the link in before you search anything or you’ll trigger the firewall alarm. 

you blinked. 

you’ll trigger the what? 

i’ll trigger the fucking What? 

levi’s response was the fastest one yet: the Fucking Firewall Alarm. barbatos’ design. he has no idea i know how to bypass it. just do what i said. don’t try to solve any potential issues on your own, come to me for everything.

roger that o7, you replied, thanks levi ^_^

yeah, yeah. come to my room for a hxh binge tomorrow night.

you snorted. what a fucking nerd—in the greatest way possible. 

of course bestie :] ily

ily2 normie -_- 

in his room, unbeknownst to you, levi felt like he made a mistake of some kind. it’s not that he didn’t trust you, it’s just that you had a tendency to end up in undesirable situations, even if it wasn’t always on purpose. he was probably just worried over nothing, or so he tried to tell himself, but whatever. this isn’t even about him.

you sat up once more, this time leaning against your pillows as you started setting everything up. everything went so quickly that you barely wondered if all of this—subverting hell’s firewall, personally designed by a man eerily similar to a 2D crush from when you were in middle school—was worth accessing a few silly apps from the human world. 

a few minutes later, your d.d.d. now a much, much cooler copy of your phone, any and all thoughts of regret and hesitation were absent from your mind. 

your first order of business on your upgraded d.d.d. was logging into your tiktok account, however surprising it was that you even remembered the password. you put your headphones in and adjusted your volume, going back into the dumpster fire that is your for-you page with open arms. 

after around half an hour of stifled laughter and small, offended gasps from being targeted by the algorithm, you came across a rare dancing video. the person on your screen was in casual clothes, making minor, silly dance movements as the music dwindled, only for them to drop into a squat in time with the music, suddenly dolled up. you shot forward, taken aback by their transformation and by their dancing post beat drop. did you watch it on a loop for a few minutes? well, that’s nobody’s business but yours. you clicked on the sound in hopes of finding similar videos, and much to your relief, there were plenty. about ten videos in, a smile still on your face, you got an idea. 

you slipped your headphones out, arbitrarily looking around your room, before whispering to yourself, “i could—i could do that. i could totally do that.” 

and you were right. you had nice clothes and makeup from various shopping occasions with asmo. your room had led strips, courtesy of levi ordering the wrong ones and being so kind as to give them to you. you could do it. 

levi was the only person you’d spoken to since you retreated to your room a few hours ago, and the lights have been off the entire time, which meant that if you worked quietly enough, everyone else had reason enough to assume you were asleep. good! how could you possibly explain what you were doing getting all dolled up at, like, 11:00 on a wednesday night? you couldn’t, even a little bit—not in a way that convinced anyone, anyway. 

come midnight, you were sitting cross legged on your bed, watching your final product. not to be vain or anything, but you were looking very respectfully at yourself. since when could you move like that, anyway? the wonders of being alone, you supposed. 

you didn’t post it publicly, electing to save it as a draft just so it would save to your d.d.d. maybe you’d post it once you were back in the human world, when your friends wouldn’t swarm your comments asking where the fuck you were. 

yeah, lucifer told you, “everything was taken care of,” but regardless of whether or not you believed him, you knew it wasn’t a good idea to risk finding out if he missed something. 

boredom creeping up on you again, you elected to go through the messages on your d.d.d. it would be better to make yourself laugh before you were fully bored again, right? you stood up and stretched, opening the group text with the adults. luke doesn’t know about it; he thinks the one with everyone is the main one, and everyone lets him think that so he feels included. 

walking around your room in small circles, you scrolled up to the older conversations and read through them, rolling your eyes and chuckling to yourself. very rarely did they talk about anything of importance. it was mostly diavolo, barbatos, and simeon making quips and jokes at lucifer’s expense for everyone to see. it was gold in its purest form. 

you contemplated sending one of the many cursed things sitting in your camera roll, just to keep them on their toes, but just after opening your gallery, you resigned not to, figuring it would be best to leave him alone. 

you stretched again, the hold on your d.d.d. a bit looser this time. it nearly slipped out of your hands, but you caught it, tossing it onto your bed. as soon as you resigned to start getting ready for bed, you turned back around and picked it up. 

there was no rhyme or reason to your actions; if someone in that moment were to ask you why you did it, you would’ve said, “just ‘cause.”

human intuition is a wonderful thing.

your d.d.d. was still on, still open to the group chat. you’d sent something, evidently a second ago, as indicated by the time stamp. the thumbnail was of you, in casual clothing—the casual clothing you were wearing before you got dolled up, actually. huh. 

huh. 

the weight of your mistake came crashing down on you in full force, a chill sinking into your skin and running up your spine.

you were suddenly acutely aware of the concept of time, how it was of the essence and you had absolutely none to waste.

what were you to do? it wouldn’t be long before your favorite person saw it. you had to do something. 

you could say nothing. you could tell the truth and say it was an accident and that you were embarrassed, but that was even worse than saying nothing because it meant you were set to be the target of teasing you didn’t even wanna try to imagine. you could say it was an accident and be confident about it, telling them, “enjoy!” but that was a dangerous game to play, and you knew it. 

well, i do admire you for taking time to think, but, unfortunately, there was a checkmark next to your message. oh, a number as well—eleven. you just can’t catch a break. what were they all doing up at this time, anyway? it was a school night🤨. 

[anninhiliation]

Office Visit

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected Sex. A little filthy. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Disclaimer:  THIS IS MY OWN PERSONAL WRITING. You do not have the right or consent to copy my work and claim it as your own. You do not have the right to even copy my work. I can and will publicly shame you. Changing the boy is still plagiarism. Write your own work. Don’t test me or karma. Don’t be a useless leech.

Word Count: 1899

Locked in his office all day made you a little bored and very needy. You knew he had a big case in only two days with a client who was more than guilty and a judge who very much hated Chris. He was dealt a bad hand with the public charging his client as guilty before the trial even began. To top things off, the media had a frenzy with the case, following it every step of the way. All eyes would be on Chris, watching how he would play this out. Only adding to his stress, knowing how easily this one trial could easily ruin his career. As the sun officially set, you figured it was time for him to call it a day. He could easily work through the night and up until the case with very little breaks in-between. You know that Chris used to do it in law school and could easily still do it. Thus, it was up to you to make sure he gave himself a nice long break.

“Papi need some help?” you asked as you opened the doors to Chris’s office.

 He was reading some papers on his brown leather armchair, biting his lower lip deep in concentration and drinking whiskey. Hearing his office doors open had him looking up from the case file. It was clear by the dark circles under his eyes and his general body language that he was stressed, and completely drained.

 “¿Quieres ayudar hermosa?” He raised his eyebrow as he placed the papers down on the small side table. 

 Shifting in his seat, his back melting into the leather as he left out a low sigh. His legs widened a bit as his muscles relaxed.

 "Siempre," you grinned, shutting the wooden doors behind you.

 Taking a sip of whiskey, his brown eyes glued to your every move. Tracing every curve from your leggings, up to your breasts slightly bouncing with every step. His tattooed arms rested on the arm rest still holding the glass of whiskey as he waited for your touch.

 “You’ve been working all day” sighing, you got down on your knees and undid his neatly tucked in button up exposing his lower stomach.

 His breathing tightened as he felt your warm fingertips on his freshly exposed skin. One of your hands held his hardening member, palming it.

 “Well, nena you know about the case,” he groaned lacing his fingers through your hair.

 Chunks of hair intertwined around his fingers as he gave you a gentle tug. You weren’t here to tease or waste time. Looking up at his lust filled eyes you undid his leather belt and unzipped his pants.

 “You’ve been on the case all day papi” you pouted as you pulled down the elastic band to his black briefs exposing his still hardening member.

 Holding his shaft, you began to rub at an even pace as you circled his tip with your tongue. The warm wetness of your mouth had Chris letting out a low soft moan as his white salty liquid drained out. You let out a content moan feeling him on your tastebuds.

 “Carajo” he mumbled as you took more of him in, moving your hand down to make room.

 Bobbing your head at a steady pace you slowly took more of him in. Your jaw slowly relaxed with every stroke allowing you to swallow more of him in. His head rolled back as a low moan echoed down your spine. You moaned out contently feeling your bud begin to pulsate. Watching Chris clearly enjoy what you were doing to him was a turn on for you. How his face contoured in pleasure, how he tugged your hair every time you swallowed around his shaft. Chris was floating in the clouds with your every movement.

 “Just like that nena” he encouraged

 Moving your hand away and resting it on his upper thigh, you fully relaxed your throat to take more and more of him in. With only about an inch of him exposed, tears streamed down your face. The air in your lungs constricted with you gagging around him. A deep moan echoed through the room, vibrations ending right at your core.

 “Fuck nena- ah” he encouraged tugging your hair tighter as he began to slowly move his hips a bit.

 It reached a moment where you needed air, you needed a moment to collect yourself. Pulling him out panting, you massaged his shaft and toyed with the strands of spit leaving your mouth. Makeup smeared, chin and lips covered in spit, and you trying to catch your breath had Chris ready to just hit his orgasm right there and then. Still maintaining eye contact with him you went to go toy with his foreskin.

 “Fuck” he whispered.

  Gently tugging at the sensitive skin for a bit, you pushed his shaft back to work on his balls. As you were paying attention to each sack enough air came back into your lungs. Sinking back down his shaft you could tell Chris was closer to the edge. Bobbing your head at a quicker pace your free hand toyed with his balls.

 “Asi nena” a breathy moan of encouragement.

 You could feel Chris’s shaft twitch inside you, his balls tensing up under your touch. He was seeing stars as you deep throated him one last time and swallowed around him. Chris incoherently spilled some Spanish curses mixed with your name. Warm white strands hit the back of your throat and pooled around your tongue. Pulling out his thick shaft you moaned contently as you swallowed his load and milked him out for every last drop.

 “Think you can give me another load papi” you grinned as you circled your tongue around his tip collecting the last few drops of his salty liquid.

 “Adonde? In that pretty little pussy of yours nena?” He asked as he wiped off some excess white drops from the corners of your lips.

 Grabbing his hand and cleaning up the juices you moaned out an “mm-hm.”

 Chris wasted no time and lifted you up, making you gasp as your hands clawed into his shoulders. His fingers dug into your soft flesh as his lips molded with yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist trying to pull him closer. Lower lips throbbed painfully as he dominated the kiss. With every passing second you were growing more and more needy for him.

 “Chris” you whined out grinding your hips down on his grip trying to find some friction.

 “Need something nena?” he teased grinning.

 He was playful and liked to push some buttons but he knew how to please. Chris was well aware of how needy and desperate you were. He knew if he kept at it, you might have killed him. Lips molded against each other as you tugged on Chris’s shaggy hair. Tasting himself on you was nothing new for him and he could honestly care less. Your walls clenched tighter as he set you down on the desk. Papers, and pens, and everything else rained down on the hard wooden floor as your ass was rested down on the cold desk. Your hands desperately roamed his body as you gripped his button up and tore it up. Buttons scattered around the office making Chris groan.

 “Aye nena” He whined.

 Warm lips marked the weakest point in your neck making you mewl out. Your warm hands roamed his skin sending a rush of blood back down to his cock. Tattooed hands grabbed the edge of your shirt and pulled in right off, tossing the fabric with the other discarded items. Your nipples hardened with the cool air making Chris groan out at your bare chest.

 “Nena no te puseste un corpiño?” he grinned cupping your breasts.

 His warms thumbs skimmed over your hard buds. Shivers ran down your spine the sensation pooling at your folds.

 “N-no papi” you moaned out tugging his hair.

 Moving one hand away Chris pampered your breast in soft kisses before circling his tongue around your hardened nipple. Your back arched and roughly pulled his hair. He swiftly mirrored his actions to your other nipple before pampering down your stomach in soft kisses. Grabbing your leggings and your panties Chris tugged them right off, and threw them aimlessly. Lowering his pants down, Chris grabbed his shaft and adjusted himself between your legs. Your hole clenched in anticipation as you whined out for Chris. His tip teased your folds soaking up in your juices before sliding in. Gripping onto Chris’s biceps you let out a content gasp. Feeling his size stretch you out had you floating on cloud nine.

 “Fuck you’re so tight nena” His groaned as he began rolling his hips into yours.

 Gripping the back of Chris’s shirt, you bucked your hips up. Head rolling back on the hard wood as every thrust had you moving back and forth. The desk creaked and groaned every time hips connected. He grabbed your hips tightly not letting you get too far as you marked little red lines down his biceps and through the back of his button up.  Your hole clenched around him, as you began to need more. The pleasure reaching its limit in this position, driving you whiner and whiner.

 “Chris” you moaned between thrusts as your legs wrapped around him trying to pull him closer.

 Squirming under his grip you tried to adjust your hips just to get that one sweet spot. He quickly got the message and pulled out to throw your leg over his shoulder. Adjusting his hips and as slid back inside had your eyes rolling back. With this new position he was able to get deeper inside you, stretching out those hard-to-reach places.

 “That better preciosa?” He groaned feeling your muscles tightly clench around him.

 You couldn’t even answer coherently as Chris’s tip hit your inner g-spot over and over again. Eyes glued to the back of your skull as the pleasure tightened inside you. Toes curled intensely as your screams grew louder and louder. Chris rammed inside you with the majority of his strength keeping you high above the clouds.

 “Christopher!” you screamed out bunching the back of his button down.

The pleasure in your lower stomach growing tighter and tighter. Your warm velvet walls fluttered around him as you grew closer and closer to orgasm. Chris growled feeling his own orgasm draw closer. His shaft throbbing making each thrust more difficult than the last.

 “Dale nena” he encouraged using his free hand to toy with your clit.

 The added stimulation had your thighs trembling and walls closing in tighter. You incoherently cursed his name as the pleasure released. Sparks of electricity strongly flowed through your body as Chris rode you out for as long as he could. He loudly groaned your name, as his own pleasure became too much. Strings of white liquid shot out of him as he filled you up. Giving you the last few thrusts, milking out every last drop. Chris stayed inside you for a second as you both floated back down to earth.

 “Hermosa viene a la oficina mañana” he grinned as he pulled out and gave you a soft kiss.

 Sliding off his desk, you stole his button up as he fixed his pants.

 “No papi, mañana terminas temprano” you pouted as you dragged him out of the office.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Not sure if you still want to write for old prompts but if so; May I request Rodimus, Brainstorm, and a bot of your choice for the kidnapped s/o defending their bot and giving the kidnapper a tongue lashing? Your writing is so good it seriously brightens my day reading through it all! :D

I never tire of my prompts, lovely anon! Thanks a million and here's the good boys! I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to do for the third bot but I poured my heart and soul into these two, I hope you like them!

Rodimus

·Your panic had never really gone beyond some light anxiety about when you'd get to eat next, but you credited that to the rescue party you knew was coming. Rodimus had bested bad guys far more competent than this loser, so you had few worries about getting out. Truthfully your greatest concern was how unfathomably annoying your captor was proving to be. Between their grandiose personality and their constant taunting over the communication line, you feel as if you're going to go mad. Unfortunately, when the mocking starts to be aimed directly at Rodimus without end, you quickly build to your limit. The gloves come off when your captor crosses the final line and calls your partner "Hot Rod" in an unacceptable jab.

·"Oh for God's sake! It's Rodimus you dolt, not Hot Rod! I know the extra syllable is a little difficult for you, but try to keep up!" Your shout echoes so loudly in the tiny cave that a bit of dust falls from the ceiling. Your captor is quick to try and shut you up, but that doesn't stop you in the slightest, as yelling feels far better than taking any more of their trash. For pete's sake, they stole you for ransom and they're expecting good behavior? Entitlement falls way short of describing what a jerk this bot is, and you let them know it, channeling the insults you know your partner would unleash if they could.

·"You think you scare me? You think you scare anyone?! You're dumb enough to piss off the captain of the Lost Light buddy, you should be afraid! Rodimus sees guys like you as footnotes compared to what he usually deals with!" Quite accustomed to your beloved captain charging in to save the day, you let loose a long list of his accomplishments, proudly defending and boasting at the same time. Your captor can't even get a word in edgewise. With a devilish smirk, you start to go on about all the less public ways Rodimus rules as a partner. His impeccable charm, his smooth wit, and his capacity to perform as a Prime where it really counts... That last bit is kept from vulgarity only due to a none too distant explosion cutting you off.

·Before anything can move, the door quite literally melts before imploding inward as molten metal, revealing Rodimus covered in flame. He moves in a fiery blur, his fist more akin to a meteorite as it collides with your captor to knock them out in a single punch. At your cheering of his name, he comes to your side in a flash, fire dissipating completely after he frees you of your bonds. Moments later the remainder of the crew is pouring in with Magnus scolding Rodimus for rushing ahead. He ignored him completely as he takes you into his arms, optics shining as if he's beholding something more precious than the Matrix could ever be. Though his words are flirty, his tone is tender and brimming with affection as he takes you back to the ship. His lovestruck expression doesn't seem to go away even when he throws a massive party to celebrate your rescue.

·In an incredibly rare moment where his responsibilities pull him away from you, a bot close to him tells you something they think you should know. Rodimus was initially devastated by your kidnapping. Though the entire ship had rallied for your rescue, he'd barely held it together enough to take charge, and hearing the bot mock him had nearly sent him over the edge. Your outburst had, as if by a miracle, revitalized him. Hearing you stick up for him, including your grand list of what you adored about him, had so inspired him that controlling his fire had become easy. It was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. You believing in him had put into perspective what he was capable of, to the point it lit a fire in the most literal sense of the phrase.

Brainstorm

·Dating a bot brilliant enough to rend time had made you quite accustomed to shenanigans of all kinds. Thus, you were calm when kidnapped, both due to the aforementioned reason as well as your certainty of rescue. However, that calm had proved short lived when your captor proved to be an annoying jerk with a massive inferiority complex. Their ceaseless mockery through the communication channel was like torture the DJD would have found too cruel to condone. You'd been able to stay cool for some time, focusing on keeping the situation calm and looking for weak points your rescuers might exploit, but inevitably you'd been pushed to your limit. The final straw had been your captor having the audacity to mock your partner for being a hopeless inventor who only managed to make things no one needed, and that sent you over the edge.

·"Hopeless?! You call inventing time travel and creating the multiverse hopeless?! This coming from a loser in a cave with the most backwards security system on this side of the galaxy?!" Your outburst had come with a rattling of your chains to emphasize your point, and between your voice and the clanking metal you'd immediately had the full attention of the bad bot. Still enraged, you made a point of detailing every single categorical failure they'd displayed, having learned plenty about judging the quality of technology in Brainstorm's lab. There's more than enough material for you to throw at them with the nightmare of poor maintenance surrounding you. "When was the last time you bothered patching up these turrets anyway?! Hope you're not planning on using these for defense, Brainstorm will have them short circuiting before he's done hacking that door!"

·There's something resembling an attempt at a comeback, but you're a mile ahead before it's even halfway out. To say your beloved bot eclipses this loser's intellect would imply they'd actually register on the same level, and you have to laugh at the absurdity of someone so incompetent daring to come after one of the most brilliant bots in the galaxy, something you let them know in no uncertain terms. The litany of reality warping ways you might be rescued is as long as it is ridiculously plausible. You begin going off on the countless other ways Brainstorm might get around this captive situation, extolling his many talents in weapon design and paying special attention to how brilliantly he thinks outside the box. You're about to get into the details of other areas he's creative in when the lights go out and everything plunges in to darkness.

·Flashes of biolights, small explosions, and shouts of action are all you have to discern some incredible rush of activity. Before you can really figure out what's happening a beautiful pair of yellow optics light up the darkness, and in a split second your chains are broken and you're being lovingly cupped by a pair of careful hands. At the flip of a small device the lights flicker on to reveal a beaten but otherwise fine captor being cuffed, but you ignore that entirely when Brainstorm removes his mask to speak to you. Playfully fussing over your condition, he uncharacteristically kisses your little head in full view of everyone, something he's never done before. In fact, the next few days he's nothing but openly loving and outright showy in his affections, publicly presenting you with a series of fantastic gifts invented to profess his love.

·In a rare moment of solitude, you're unexpectedly taken aside by a bot who says they need to let you know something important. Brainstorm was almost dangerous. He'd already lost one love, and he'd been so intent on not losing another he'd been forced from his lab to prevent him from tearing reality asunder to get to you. He'd been nearly impossible to console or restrain until your voice came through the comm. Hearing you defend him so passionately had calmed and invigorated him all at once, grounding him in reality and giving him the clarity he needed to assist in rescuing you. The device he'd created to extinguish enemy defenses had been put together at a speed that impressed Perceptor. It was thanks to you that he remembered to go slow and take things one step at a time, because just as much as you were worth fighting for, you were worth living for.