#love to. and yet. and yet it feels like i don't have the right to do so after what i told him last time we met. UGHHH CHANGE MY DETESTED

[acid-ixx]

to you, my greatest passion (soft yandere! batfam x traumatized! reader oneshot)

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

tw: allusions to stockholm syndrome, flawed relationship (they have no concept of boundaries) and mild descriptions of injuries and torture (not by the batfam). read until the end for an author's note. happy 4k followers to me :)) uh leave comments if u like this type of analysis and want to see more. i had no direction for writing this. please don't let this flop huhu i might delete this since i don't like it

as much as i love my angst, we all need something soft at times, and moments with yan!batfam with a reader who is absolutely fucking broken from their past that the mere implication that someone could love them is enough to let them melt into whoever's chest they lay upon that night.

just, hurt/comfort. one that heals the soul in its overly possessive embrace. the same way chapped lips peck softly on your cheeks, muscled arms caress your fragile, shivering body, and legs tangle upon yours in a cacophony of warm, cozy blankets.

where as the longer time passes in the manor, the more you learn to love. to let go of the painful memories your tormenters left you. to allow past scars to heal into a mere visage of what once was streaks coated in blood. your family acts as your new abductors, yes, but how could you hold your freedom against them when it is them that comfort you from drowning through the deepest depths of your nightmares?

nightmares of the past, of the knives that break through your already gashed skin, or the ropes that burn through bruises and laceration— every time you wake up crying, with tears running down your cheeks and a pained cry; a recollection of the torture you were subject to, it is them that come running to your room not a moment after.

it's bruce's tall, domineering form that crumbles into soft, snug pillows for you. your father arms that punches criminals into prison become the shoulder you lean on. calloused fingers rub your cheeks, wiping away your tears, holding your face in his palms like you're the most fragile thing on earth— and you are. every time he looks at your dampened eyes and sniffling nose, he gets reminded of how lonely he was as a child, who lost his parent too young to the cruelty of the world, of gotham and her unyielding coldness. and when he reminisces, he begins to cage you in his arms a tad bit tighter, begins to comfort you longer and softer than he has ever done with anyone else, as if he is reassuring himself. it is with you that his vulnerability, that fear of loss becomes all too stronger. and every time you cry a bit longer, your hold on his sleeves becoming unyielding, does bruce become crueler in his pursuit of fighting crime, a lesson to himself that the people he punishes are those with hands capable enough to harm you, his precious, his pearl that glints throughout the moonlight.

whenever your father is unavailable, it's dick who runs to you, with all the intention to provide you comfort. it's him who calls you his baby bird, as he reassures you that you're no burden in his eyes every time you scream in terror as your sleep. it's him who loves to drown you in his affection, always near, always close, never far and never too much. physically, he's the most doting to a fault. tender, yet tight were his hugs. his kisses to your cheeks and your forehead always linger, as if hesitant to release itself from its rightful place. it's a testiment to how much he loves you, how he's incapable of separating himself from you. god, he loves you so much he wishes he'd just melt right into your skin, so that you actually finally realize how you're the most important thing in the world to him. you, his baby bird. if he had met you sooner, quite earlier, right after his parent's have died, then maybe he could've managed his anger better, could've learned to cope with you through the battles you both fought. it's with you that dick feel unbearably euphoric, ready to spill his love to the point where tears consume his eyes and his head laid on your chest refuses to detach itself.

jason isn't familiar with what warmth feels like, not anymore. but when he sees your hapless state, he sees a reflection of himself in that abandoned warehouse. broken, defiled, hurt. with nothing to comfort you from the cold other than the ropes that burn through your skin and the adrenaline that runs through your veins. he forgots what solace feels like, what it means, but through your shared trauma does jason learn. he learns to talk to you, with you, learns to pinpoint each and every emotion he felt at the time, what you felt inside that putrid basement. he learns to manage his grief because he doesn't want to anger himself looking at you, at just how much justice can only serve so many. the longer you talk to jason, the more he becomes softer, yet hungrier. he learns how to hold you in a way a brother learns to hold his baby sibling for the first time when conceived. he relearns the warmth he felt, like when he was finally able to be good enough to be the successor to the title of robin, when he felt you drool on his chest when you trusted him enough to sleep in his room. yet this time that feeling was accompanied with that ominous, distracting essence. one that makes jason's knuckles crack and have him prepare his guns, as he discovers that you can never truly erase the past. and even though it might take years for him to be your ideal brother, he could at least be your sole protector.

then there's tim, who never truly had the opportunity to develop that deeper sense of love he wanted to feel until he was officially adopted into the wayne family right after his parents' death. don't get him wrong, he loves his mom and dad, and so does he loves his current family— but it's obsession that drives him nonetheless. the need to prove himself, to gather information about everyone to know who they truly are; beyond that there's nothing more than shallowness, a neverending hole he can't satisfy. but with you? oh god, you. to tim, you're his everything. you devour his being whole. with you, there's always something new. the need to track every single thing about you leads him into this cycle of want and need that coagulates into desire, into drive. every time you smile, or laugh, or frown, he gains newer intel about you, one he loops into the deepest crevices of his brain at a constant, you are his constant. but staying right behind you can only do so much. and as he sits right beside you in bed, awkwardly comforting you through the ways he mirrored off from his brothers: a sloppy kiss to your knuckles, a joke cracked here and there, and wiping your eyes and nose with his sleeves; tim learns that stalking can only do so much. he learns what it feels like to be needed for emotional connection and nothing else and that only further motivates him to be perfect for you, and to be with you, his sibling, more often than to simply live right under your nose.

and damian, your baby brother, who's unsurprisingly the one who sleeps in your room, or has you sleep in his room, the most. damian tells himself he's incapable of love, of showing it or reciprocating it. but for you, he tries, and like jason, he learns. he discovers just how depraved both of you are when it comes to love. it enlightens you both and it makes damian feel a deeper sense of connection with you than anyone else. with you, he feels like a child: vulnerable, yet uncaring and free, like the true meaning of being a robin, one the soars through the skies with no grandfather or mother or league to watch your every step as their successor. all the times you cry, he silently sobs with you, holding your cheeks down to his level with scarred palms. silent, yet comforting, he'd allow his smaller form to simply become your teddy bear whilst he whispers consolations. about how strong his older sibling is, how precious you are for being comfortable with him to speak of your problems, how you're everything to damian just as he wishes to be the world for you. it makes you think you're more immature that him, it makes him grateful that he has you. even though he doesn't say it, he shows through actions just how truly important you are whenever he draws a sword towards his enemies, thinking about you and his unsaid promises.

nights where you're reminded of that solitary confinement, of the darkness that creeps into your vision and the voices that pierce through your ears. nights where you feel you've exhausted yourself of hope, where what was once warmth that hugs your heart is now that frigid, yet burning spikes that penetrates into the confidence that you'll somehow, someday, run away from that hellhole— those were nights you thought you'd never live with proper sleep. but as one or two of them holds you in their embrace whenever your nightmares consume your being, you're slowly allowing your established walls to fall apart, all for the mere implication of their love.

who would save you, if not for them? their hushed whispers of consolation, hands that wrap around your figure, and fingers that knead your cheeks provide you that deep sated comfort you always wanted. the sleeves they use to wipe away both saltine liquid and snot, to slowly silence your blubbering rambles, your inconsolable crying; it's warmer than the basement you used to be locked in as a child, with dripping faucets the only source of your water— they saved you once before, who's to say they won't save you a thousand times more?

every time you feel like crying, every time that familiar faulty tap in your eyes begins to dampen against ashen skin, it's them that asks you if you're alright. even if you grit your teeth, even if you seeth or bite or beat or punch or kick, to punish yourself, to cope through the trauma, to not feel nothing.

every time pain begins to sear through your skin, it's your grandfather, father, brothers and sisters that huddle around you and tell you 'you're safe here, in the manor, with us'.

every time they spend hours, ditching patrol nights, cooking your comfort food, reading your favorite books, watching movies for hours, ignoring your assigned sleep schedule, kissing your scarred hands gently, reverently, cuddling your form against their strong ones as a silent promise that with them, there's nothing to harm you no more— you'd feel lighter every time, a tad happier, even. slowly, but surely, melting against the confines of your adorned cage and the embrace of your loving captors.

every time they help you heal, it makes you forgive, and it makes you forget their prior kidnapping in return of building new memories with them, in a safer haven, with nobody to hurt you any longer, with nobody to bash your head against concrete walls, to punish you. you who is underserving of the circumstances bought upon you back then.

safe, a word you thought you'll never feel, a word you didn't even know existed in the crevices of your heart. but it is with them that you slowly start to associate safe with family.

the family that you've come to love and cherish in your own imperfect ways, the same way a stray dog becomes too loyal to a passerby when given bones for leftovers every day.

but you're not an animal, and you're not a pavlovian dog meant to be conditioned. no, you're their baby, their love, their treasure and their only one. the love they feed you exceeds beyond leftovers. only you can devour them wholly, the same way they cloak your world in the love that fills that neverending pit in your heart.

you're not biologically related to any of them in any way, too. yet it was all a matter of coincidence that they stumbled upon you.

but really, past is past.

then is then.

now it's just you and them.

it's you, with them.

just your family. overbearing, overprotective, overpowering.

but nothing is always over to you. their love isn't too much. how could you tell yourself it's too much? not when you were never given a basis of what is too much. how is one too much when you were never even given enough?

trust is built upon a foundation of connecting with others who can relate with you one way or another, who can see past through your flaws and mistakes— it's a bond that precedes mere acquaintanceship.

you might've met them later than everyone else, but it's you that completes them.

you're the puzzle that completes the family photographs, the goal for bruce to continue his legacy as batman and to ward off all evil, the inspiration for dick to be that aspiring hero everyone sees him to be, the reason jason begins to reform himself for your sake, the purpose for tim's endless pursuit of knowledge, the muse for damian's painting, the subject for his love he thought was no more, the ambition for steph's prolongation despite her countless of failures, the motivation for barbara to seek out all the criminals who have harmed you, the influence for cass to be stronger to protect you, the catalyst for duke to use his metahuman abilities for good, to take out those who walk in broad daylight, as if they weren't involved in your past tortures.

you're everything that they are.

their sunshine and moonlight, their companionship and loneliness, their pain and pleasure, their yin and yan.

their greatest passion.

a/n: hii guys erm. this is so sudden and also counts as a rant but yk... i feel like quitting this blog but at the same time not. it's just, i feel like writing has been more of an obligation than anything else. it doesn't help the fact that i've only been getting interaction if i were to actually produce something good. beyond that, it feels like people are expecting more of me. i get it, updates are sporadic, they appear in the blink of an eye when you least expect it, but at the same time it's just hard juggling what i want to write and what i feel like i need to write. this blog was primarily to post about my thoughts and to talk to people but lately, every time i open this app to write, i feel these plethora of thoughts and expectations telling me that if i don't do well enough then people would merely ignore whatever i post or it's just bad by standards. and yes i'm grateful for all the people supporting my writing, but at the same time i'm lead to a cycle of me losing my motivation to continue writing. ugh idk what im doing anymore help :((

tl;dr: will i stop writing? no, but at the same time i don't know. someday, i may deactivate this account out of impulse if i feel too much, or not. it depends hehe.

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

MISS YOU — rafe cameron (smut, angst, nsfw)

pairing; ex-boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader summary: years after your breakup, rafe cameron crawls back into your life when he realises that you might have started moving on. a/n: omg this was so long i think i got carried away warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), name calling, unprotected sex.

He does not knock.

Rafe Cameron barges into your dimly lit apartment instead of knocking the door and allowing you to let him in. He walks right past you, ignoring the frown on your face, and collapses down on your couch.

His shoulders are relaxed, arms stretched out along the back of the couch as he settles in and looks around your apartment.

His blue eyes are dart everywhere, but they don’t meet yours. His veiny hands are tapping away on his thighs—the same hands that used to envelope yours perfectly.

His blonde hair is longer than it was when you two were together—they're curling over his forehead. The length is almost too long, it makes him look shaggy, and yet it suits him nevertheless.

Your fists clench. Suddenly, the warmth of your home has vanished because of his presence.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" His voice is raspy and rough, almost as if he had just woken up, but you can tell from his red eyes and the dark circles underneath that he hasn't slept a wink.

"What do you want, Rafe?"

He finally turns his gaze to you, and the sight makes your knees go weak. You want to sit down next to him and bury your head into his chest, but you know that can't happen anymore.

He stands up, making you take a step back. You don't miss the hurt look in his eyes, but he hides it quickly and walks towards you.

The light coming out of the television playing in the background illuminates Rafe's face, his jawline sharp and his lips pulled in a soft frown.

He walks past you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"What the hell?" You murmur, following him as he walks towards the kitchen.

He halts to a stop and you stand behind him, feeling like a mouse in his tall presence. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He rolls his eyes and turns around to face you. His eyes stare into yours, resulting in the formation of a lump in your throat as your eyes meet for the first time in years.

“Who is he?” Rafe asks bitterly, his eyes not leaving your face. “The guy you were with yesterday at the Golf Club. Even better, where is he?"

Yesterday, your date made a reservation at the Golf Club for your first date, and the smug part of you had wished the Rafe saw the two of you together—which he apparently did.

You had a good time with the boy. He even dropped you off to your house afterwards. He was sweet, polite and soft-spoken. The complete opposite of your ex-boyfriend.

"Rafe, leave."

He scoffs, running his tongue along his inner-cheek. His eyes still burn into yours.

He brings a cold finger to your face and the metal of his ring faintly touches your cheek. You suck in a deep breath as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

You look away from him, unable to stand the intensity of his eyes. You know what he wants, and you won't allow yourself to give in to him.

Almost turning away, you feel him grab your face and force you to look at him. He's staring down at you in a way that makes your heart dip.

You can't believe you used to know this man, can't believe you shared the same bed with him and loved him so unconditionally.

His eyes drop down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. "Kiss me."

It's your turn to scoff. You try to pry his hand off your face, but he doesn't bulge. He simply leans his face closer to yours, the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes enveloping your nose.

"Don't tell me that you don't miss it," his thumb moves against your cheek. "I've thought about you every night since the day we broke up. You know, you're the only thing that stays on my mind."

"Rafe—"

"No," his jaw is clenched. "Let me finish, alright? I-I can't eat, I can't sleep. I'm fucking useless without you. I need you."

You push his chest away from you. "And whose fault is that, huh?"

"Please," his voice cracks. "Baby, please."

"Oh my god, just-just stop this, okay? Rafe, you didn't even remember our anniversary! The whole day you were getting high with B-"

"I don't care!" He shouts, interrupting you. "I don't care, okay? I just need you, and you need me too! Tell me you don't miss me and I'll leave."

You sigh, rubbing your face. You want to yell at him, but his presence and words make you weak.

He knows that he has an effect on you. He knows how easily he can manipulate you and bend you to his will.

But you gather yourself. You shake your head and seethe through your teeth, "Go fuck yourself, Rafe. Get out, right now. Or I swear to god, I will call the police."

He chuckles lowly. "And tell them what, baby? That Rafe Cameron came into your house and refused to leave? Please, call the police. It'll just make things easier."

"Get. Out." You point towards the door. "Go back to her, Rafe. The bimbo who's always on your arm."

He groans, his voice low and guttural. "She's not you, okay? She doesn't fucking get me. Only you do."

"You're a piece of shit."

He takes a step closer to you, if that was even possible.

"I'm a piece of shit? Do you hear yourself?" He's towering over you. His hands are gripping your arms.

You push his chest again and step back, only to bump into the wall behind.

He, too, takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. He laughs and looks down at his feet. "Fine. You wanna play this game, huh?"

He starts walking towards you, and suddenly your feet are glued to the floor.

You feel his warmth against your body before his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies are pressed against each other's.

You feel him run a finger down the length of your jaw.

You try to fight back the urge to moan at his touch. You want to push him away, but his touch makes you melt. It's been too long. Too long since he's been this close.

"Fuck you." You say, and your shaky voice doesn't go unnoticed by him. "And let go of me."

He ignores you.

He presses his forehead against yours, and your breath hitches in your throat.

You can't stop thinking about how much you want his lips on yours. How much you want him to not listen to your complaints and just fucking kiss you.

His breath hits your lips as his eyes search your face. "Tell me you don't miss me. Tell me you don't miss this," He whispers, his right-hand snaking up your body until it's resting right below your breast.

"I'll leave right now," he says, "and never come back. We can go our separate ways and live the rest of our lives separately. And then, ten years from now, you'll be at a children’s park and you'll see me and think, 'Wow. Rafe Cameron is hot.'"

"I-"

"Or," he pauses, his hand sliding down to your ass. "You can just stop being in denial and admit that you need me just as much as I need you."

His grip on you is tight, and his blue eyes are boring into yours. His breathing has quickened, and so has yours.

His face is mere centimetres away from yours at this point, and his eyes are digging holes in you. You feel his erection against your thigh, and the knowledge that he's aroused makes your brain go haywire.

"Say you fucking want me. I'm yours, alright? Just fucking say it." He's so close to you that you can taste his breathe.

You're at war with yourself. A part of you is screaming to kick him out, but the other part wants him to stay.

His grip on you tightens.

"I hate you." You murmur.

And then his lips are on yours.

The kiss isn’t soft and loving. It's harsh and needy, but it feels so right.

All protests, all thoughts and all the mixed feelings die down when he shifts his hand to your throat and squeezes it. With his other hand, he pulls up your thigh to his waist.

Your lips move together sloppily, his tongue darting into your mouth.

You feel him lift you up and walk over to your bedroom, his grip on you never loosening.

Your arms wrap around his neck, his tongue moves against yours, and all the feelings make you moan against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and pushes the door open with his foot, the dim light in the room allowing you to see the outline of his face.

He's breathing heavily. His eyes are dark with lust and his pupils are dilated.

You don't know what's gotten into him. Maybe the years apart have driven him crazy. But all that doesn't matter because right now he's kissing you like it's the end of the world, and you're letting him.

Your lips collide together again, and this time, it's different. It's more passionate and slow, and he kisses you in a way no one has ever kissed you before.

He lays you down on the bed and crawls on top of you.

You expect him to take control and dominate, but instead, he rests his head against the crook of your neck, his breathing hot on your skin.

"I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispers as he kisses the side of your neck.

You're speechless. Your brain is telling you to shove him off, but your heart and body are telling you something else.

The lump in your throat has returned, and your eyes are starting to burn.

But before you can say anything in response, he rushes back to your lips, and you lose yourself in him.

His lips move hungrily against yours. You can taste the saltiness of his tears, and the thought of Rafe Cameron crying makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

His hips are pressed firmly against yours, his erection digging into your inner thigh.

The kiss is passionate, but there's a hint of possessiveness in the way he grips the side of your face.

His hand trails down your body, his fingertips roughly pushing against the fabric of your shirt making you whimper.

"I missed you so much, baby." He whispers.

Then he's sucking your lips, nibbling, and kissing. He's all over you.

Your hands tug at the hem of his shirt, and he lifts himself off of you, straddling you as he helps you pull his shirt off.

He's still the same; toned, sculpted, and ripped. You can't help but stare.

You run your fingers down his chest, and your eyes shut.

He's beautiful, and you've missed him so much.

He starts trailing kisses down your neck, sucking and leaving dark marks.

You moan breathily when he sucks on the sweet spot beneath your ear.

You were supposed to stand your ground, but fuck, you need him. You need him the same way you did when he first made love to you.

"Rafe," your voice comes out breathy, "I want you."

His hand is on your stomach, moving upward. He pulls his head back, and you see the desperation in his eyes.

"Fuck, say it again," he kisses the tip of your nose. "Tell me that you're mine."

"I'm yours." You shakily murmur. "Only yours."

He only groans in response. His lips capture yours again, making a gasp come out of your mouth—which he greedily swallows.

A piteous whimper slips past your lips when you feel your wetness coating your panties and rubbing against Rafe's pants.

But he still doesn't do anything to relieve the ache between your thighs. You buck your hips discreetly to grind against his covered dick, but he simply slaps your thigh, making you yelp.

He positions himself in between your legs, both of your parts still clothed; the fabric against your wet skin making you whimper.

You moan, grasping his bicep when his fingers trace along your underwear teasingly.

"Does he make you this wet?" He asks before pulling your underwear off and running his fingers past your exposed clit.

Your brain is so fucked up that silence is your only answer.

“Answer me or I swear to fucking God I'll leave you like this,” he says, slapping your thigh and making you gasp.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you reply annoyedly, "Just fucking-"

Suddenly, all heat disappears from above you. Your eyes snap open. The sight of Rafe clenching his jaw and pulling himself away from you makes you hurriedly reach out for him.

You stutter, “Wait-wait, wait, Rafe, baby, please.”

You tug at his arm, pulling him back down on top of you.

"I need you. Please. Please just fuck me."

"You're so pathetic." He chuckles, clicking his tongue before his hands are taking his shirt off, followed by your shirt being thrown somewhere in the room.

He diverts his attention to your tits, trailing wet kisses on each of them. You let out a satisfactory sigh as he continues wrapping and unwrapping his lips around your nipples.

He goes further down and presses kisses along your stomach.

Before you can react, he buries his face between your thighs. Your back arches, a hand on his soft hair as the other grips the pillow next to you, “Oh, fuck."

He practically devours you, looking up every two seconds to meet your blown eyes. He pushes your legs up, making them almost touch your shoulders. You gasp, tightening your grip on his hair as he continues to eat you out.

Your hands are everywhere, trying to hold anything that can make the storm in your stomach calmer.

Rafe slowly releases his tight grip on your legs before sliding his fingers into you. Your eyes squeeze shut.

Your hips slightly buck upwards, but Rafe shoves you down with his free hand.

His fingers are thrusting into you at a brutal pace, his tongue doing wonders right along them.

He detaches his lips off your pussy, but his fingers are still in you.

"Does he-does he touch you as good as I do? Does he make you as wet as I do?" Rafe asks as he leans over you. The hand that had shoved you down is now wrapped around your throat as he presses, making you choke. "No, he fucking doesn't. Only I make you feel this good, yeah?"

He doesn't expect you to say something because he knows that he's saying the truth. He’s the only person who can turn you into a mess.

"Oh my god, Rafe, right there." You moan as he curls his fingers deeper into you.

"Answer me, does he fuck you up as good as I do?"

You roll your eyes at the question he's asking for the nth time now, "Yeah, yeah he does." You reply absent-mindedly.

"What the fuck?" He exclaims, immediately pulling his fingers out of you. He pushes his fingers into your mouth, so deep that it makes you gag.

"You know what, I'll fucking treat you like a whore." He says, his fingers still deep in your mouth. "I thought I'd be nice to you after all these years, but you always have to be a bitch, don't you?"

With one hand, he clumsily pulls off his pants and underwear.

You moan as you feel him drag the tip of his cock over your pussy. He teasingly does so for a few more seconds before meeting your eyes and smirking at you.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you." He mumbles. "Show your boyfriend the bruises I give you, alright?"

And when he pushes his dick in, he makes sure to look down at how your walls envelope him perfectly even after all these years.

"Oh, holy fucking shit." You gasp when his hips thrust forward and go deeper into you.

Rafe drops his head on your shoulder as he sets a pace. "I fucking missed this. I missed fucking you- oh shit." He breathes into your shoulder.

Your eyes roll back into your head, your body budding with the pleasure his thrusts give you.

"Right there." You breathe.

"You never learn, do you?" He says. Swiftly, Rafe pulls out of you and flips you over so that you're on your stomach. "You're a whore. But only mine, baby."

Then he harshly thrusts back into you, making a pathetic moan leave your lips. His hands grip your waist as he pounds into you.

He wraps his arms around your stomach and pulls you flush into his sweaty chest, tipping your head up to pull you into a messy kiss. Your teeth and tongues clash uncomfortably, but neither of you give a fuck.

His lips detach from yours, and he buries his forehead into the back of your neck.

"You're squeezing me the fuck out," He moans out.

The new position makes you moan, your hands shifting from being vacant to grabbing your tits as he pushes himself deeper and deeper into you.

The sight of you touching yourself results in Rafe letting out a loud groan. His hand leaves your hair and slides down the front of your body to rub your clit.

The new fervour makes your legs shudder, "Fuck, I'm close." You mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He nods frantically—having waited for this moment for years now.

"Cum for me, yeah. Cum all over me, baby. Need you." Rafe breathes out, thrusting harder into you.

In response, your back arches with a high. A loud moan escaping your lips and white dots blurring your vision as you release all over him.

Rafe fucks you through your orgasm—chasing his own with wild thrusts. “Oh, fuck, fuck."

You can feel his high approaching as he grips you tighter. He thrusts into you harshly, desperate for his release.

He throws his head back with a loud groan and a long string of curses when his hips falter and he's covering your insides with his cum.

The two of you are a gasping mess when you lay down on the bed.

You both stay there for moment, breathing in each other's scent. He traces your body, as if to memorise every inch.

When Rafe pulls away from you, it's like he's pulling your heart out too.

Because you know that this was just another night for him.

When Rafe cleans you up and covers you up with a blanket, he fails to cover the ache of your heart.

Because you know that the bed he'll be returning to won't be yours; but the other woman's.

[rosenclaws]

obsessed with your ex || Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: In his world you were his wife and he loved you and then you died. In this world you're his girlfriend and he loves you. At least you think he does. Still you can't help the voice in the back of your head telling you that you're nothing but a sad replacement.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY. insecure + jealous!reader, a very very toxic mindset, the reader's mind is very mean to her, reader is a mutant that can make objects disappear, angst, happy ending, rough sex, riding, french kissing, oral (f!receiving), a slight breakdown, soft sex, missionary, Logan is kinda a softie, cockwarming, fingering.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: Okay so it's here!! I need to make this clear that the readers mindset is NOT healthy and that relationships need good communication. That being said here's my fic idea that I've been thinking about for a bit. I love Olivia Rodrigo sm (I even saw her in concert!!) and this song was just begging to be written into a fic. Anyways I really hope you like it and that it's not too insane lmao. Also i made the graphic but i kinda hate it but i dont wanna change it so here we are I know it's ugly but its FINE

How long have you been here? Staring. Observing every little thing about you. Your nose, your eyes, your lips, your hair, your chin. The way your arms fall by your sides. Every. Little. Detail.

Did she have the same colored eyes? Did she talk like you? Was she smart? Was she powerful? Did he look at her the same way? Did he fuck her like he fucks you?

You clench your fists as you stare angrily at the mirror. He loves you. He says he loves you and yet it feels like you can never compare to her. She was the love of his life. She was an X-Men. She died. She was you. You're his dead fucking wife in his universe while you were nothing to the Logan in this one. 

He looked at you like a kicked puppy that first day you met. A lost little pet that had been searching for its owner. Dragged through hell and back just to get to you. It was easy to fall for him. Handsome, a little rough around the edges. You hadn’t even been dating for that long but it didn’t matter right? He worshiped you. He loved you. He promised he loved you.

But sometimes in the back of your head you wonder if when he's kissing you, does he imagine her? Does he close his eyes while he's pounding into you and imagine it's her? How could you ever compete? She was perfect, she was kind, she was everything to him. Spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of doubt and envy. There's a heavy pounding on the door but you choose to ignore it. Too wrapped up in your twisted mind to care. 

"Sweetheart, let me in." Logan's gruff voice was slightly muffled by the door. 

You clench your jaw as you finally tear your eyes away from the mirror. You slam open the door taking Logan by surprise. His eyes scan yours for injury, a worried look in his face as he steps into the bathroom. 

"I got worried, you were in here a long time." His arms wrap around your waist. 

He's looking at you with pity. At least that's what your brain tells you. Was he worried that you were hurt because he loves you or because he was thinking of her death again? You know he still dreams of her. He can hide it when he's awake but the nightmares don't lie. It hurts so bad. Love me. Love me. You're jealous you know. She's dead, she's gone. So why can't he love you. You push him off and storm out the bathroom. Nothing makes sense anymore in your head. 

"What the fuck?" Logan follows you and you feel yourself tensing up. 

It's a miracle your powers haven't started to go haywire yet. So many different emotions swirl around in your head until it mixes together to form one single feeling.

Need.

You grab Logan's shirt and pull him into you. Smashing your lips onto his with a hunger that you've never felt before. Logan hisses as you bite his bottom lip harshly but you don't give him time to say anything as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans as he starts to take some control back. Hands slipping up your shirt and ripping to shreds with ease.

You pull back from his lips, chest heaving for air as you paw at his shirt. Silently demanding he take it off which he happily does. Your lips are back onto his in an instant. He slowly walks you back until you fall onto the bed. You fall onto the bed and lick your lips. The bugle in his pants is evident as you flick your hand and the belt disappears. 

"I liked that belt." You pay no mind to his comment as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

"Easy there sweetheart," Logan pushes you back gently and crawls on top of you. Logan kisses down your chest, teasing each nipple with his tongue. 

"Let me take my time." He purrs.

His hands touch and squeeze your breasts roughly making you whine. You watch his arms move, god he's so hot. He's close to making you forget. He kisses down, down, all the way down. He sneaks out the tip of his claws to pop open the button of your pants and he yanks them down until they're all the way off.

"There she is, my perfect girl." His girl. That's right your his girl. No one else's.

Logan pulls your panties to the side as he situates himself between your legs. He stuffs his face without shame, licking hungrily and practically moaning at the taste. You arch your back as Logan devours you. Watching his back muscles move are mesmerizing. He's yours. He loves you. He promises he does.

You can't stop the thoughts that begin to invade you. Overwhelmed by pleasure from Logan and pain from the horrible ideas that pop into your head. Did he do this with her too? Did he worship her? Do you taste like her? Is that why he can't get enough? 

"Fuck!" You hiss as you sit up and tell Logan to stop. He does immediately, wondering what the hell is going on. 

"Can't fucking wait." You scratch down his chest with your nails. He groans and tries to crawl on top of you but you shake your head. 

"I'm going to ride you until you can't come anymore." You growl.

You bite his shoulder harshly making him hiss. It heals right up much to your dismay. How badly you wish you could mark him. You make his boxers disappear but before he can make a smart comment you sink down on him all the way. You whimper as you start to bounce on his cock. Loving how much he fills you.

You need to be fucked stupid. You're desperate for Logan to fuck every bad thought out of your head. To promise that he loves you so that you can believe him. You want to believe him. Please, you have to believe him. 

"Sweetheart." Logan's breath is labored as you relentlessly fuck yourself on his cock. You feel so damn good but fuck he can tell something is on your mind. 

"What do you need, let me help you." He sits up on his hands, placing one on your back as he tries to get you to slow down. His words make you want to scream. What do you need? You look at him and the only thing your rotten brain can tell you is that he is thinking of her. 

"I need you to fucking love me!" You yell.

The dam of built up feelings breaks down as tears pour out of your eyes. Ugly, horrible sobs that make your body shake. Logan watches with horror in his eyes as he stills your hips, using his strength to lift you off of him as you continue to cry. 

"I do love you." He says softly but you shake your head. 

"No!" You shout. You pound your fist against Logan's chest over and over again but he barely moves. 

"You love her! I know you do." Logan's heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. 

"I'm not your dead fucking wife Logan!" You should regret the words coming out of your mouth but you can't stop them. 

"You look at me and you see her. Like I'm just some fucking placeholder!" You let out an anguished scream as Logan captures your wrists in his hands. You know the stories. She was a hero, she was perfect in every single way. 

"How can I compete with, with her?" You say completely defeated.

Your head falls against his chest. There's a sense of relief that washes over you. Thoughts that have plagued you for months are finally out in the open. Yet the fear of what comes next overtakes any other feeling.

"Look at me." Logan tilts your head up but you push his hand away. 

"Sweetheart." He sighs and lets go of your face.

Logan's never been good at this. Talking. Being vulnerable. Then he lost everything and he hardened even more and he just. This was a new chance at life and even though it's hard he can't lose it all again. 

"I know you're not her. Of course I do." Logan presses his forehead against yours, trying to get you to look at him. 

"You loved her..." You croak out. 

"I did love her. She was my wife. But I love you too. In a different way." He's a different man. Having gone through tremendous loss. It shaped him into who he is now. 

"You're different people. Your powers act differently, you talk differently, you feel different. You are not a replacement." He says firmly. 

When you finally look at him he feels this horrible pit in his stomach. He wipes away your tears but doesn't make any other move. It's not the right time.

"Would you have even given me a second thought? If I didn't look like her?" You ask, that question has haunted you for a while now but you never asked, too afraid of the answer. Logan is silent, unsure of how to answer. 

"When I first saw you it was like a punch in the face." He starts. "For a moment I was 20 years in the past. Then I snapped out of it. You look like her, yes but you’re not her.” He gently traces a small scar on your jaw that you got when you were a child. 

“I’m not the same as your Logan right? He was a leader, a hero and I was an angry drunk murderer.” 

“I’m not gonna start listing all your fucking differences sweetheart, but I swear on my life that I love you for you.” He pulls you into a tight hug as you start to cry again. You cling onto him as tight as you can. The bad thoughts don’t just stop, even if you want them to but Logans whispering sweet words in your ear. Pushing out every bad thought for now.

“Logan,” You take a deep breath, letting Logan invade all your senses. Tobacco and whiskey. 

“I need you.” He’s hesitant, not sure if it’s the right time.

“Please, I just need you.”

“Okay sweetheart, you have me.” He slowly rolls you over and lays you on your back.

He captures your lips into a kiss. His hips rolling slowly making you moan softly. His lips drift from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your cheek, trailing down. Each one so gentle, so full of love.

“You have this spot, righttt here.” Logan nibbles on your neck and you gasp when bites right at this spot that drives you wild. You melt into the mattress as he kisses over it.

“Always makes you relax.” He crawls lower, kissing down your body. He sits up on his knees and grabs a pillow to place under your back.

“I know you like to be slightly elevated because it means I can go just a little deeper.” He purrs as he takes his cock in his hands and gently rubs the tip of it along your folds. He slides two fingers into your cunt slowly.

“Know that my fingers drive you absolutely wild, that you need me to go slow to start.” You nod absentmindedly.

You never realized he picked up on all these things. His fingers start to slide in smoother, your cunt getting wetter for him. He leans down and takes a deep breath, groaning at the scent. He slips them out and licks them clean.

“Relax sweetheart,” He spreads your thighs and slips in all the way. Going slow but unrelenting, stretching you just how you like.

“So impatient, you never let me take it easy on you right? Just wanna be full all the time.” He leans down on his elbows as he rolls his hips nice and slow.

There will be no rough sex this time, this is about love. To show you that he truly does love you for you.

“Look at me,” He tilts your head so that your eyes meet. He smiles at the desperate look on your face.

“You can pretend it makes you all embarrassed, but I know you like eye contact.” He hums as he angles his hips so that he hits that perfect spot.

You jolt as pleasure rocks through your whole body but he keeps you under him. He’s slowly and methodically tearing you apart. Every touch, every word out of his mouth just makes it better. He knows. Of course he does.

“I love you Logan.” Your hands cup his face as you stare into his hazel eyes.

This time not filled with lust, but with a true deep love. He looks at you like you’re everything.

“I love you too.” He kisses you as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He smirks as he feels you start to squirm under him. You could never help it when you were close.

“Come on sweetheart, just let go.” He whispers in your ear.

His deep voice paired with the unrelenting feeling of his cock is all it takes. He holds you in his firm arms as a warm and wonderful tingling sensation runs through your whole body. A blissful smile on your face as you tilt your head back.

You feel your whole body relax as your mind calms. Logan tries to hide his growls as he fucks into you a little faster, until he’s coming hard and deep inside of you. He sighs in contentment as he stays inside of you. He taps your cheek lightly and you look up at him.

“I love you. No one else. Just you.” He moves to pull out but you whine. You need to be close to him right now. He chuckles as he slowly moves to your side. Spooning you tightly with his cock still deep inside of you.

“Can we talk?” You ask shyly.

“About what?” Logan grunts as he pulls you as close as he can get you.

“Anything?” He’s not much of a talker so he asks the questions instead.

How did you discover your powers? How did you meet wade? Just anything and everything and you tell him.

You talk for who knows how long. Staying wrapped in each other's arms. It helps, it really does. Logan listens, he really does listen. He wants to get to know you. He loves you. You rest your head on his chest, tracing shapes into his palm as you talk.

For the first time in a while your mind seems to settle. Ignoring any thought that may try and ruin your mood. It’s just you and him right now. There’s no looming figure of your alternate selves, not anymore.

Just you and Logan. Forever.

[tragedy-of-commons]

hi gwen!! could i request a "i just wanted to hold your hand" dialogue prompt with dan heng, romantically for the 200 event? if you can't do it, it's alright! take your time with it if you can 💗

"I just wanted to hold your hand."

Are you hallucinating? Has every star in your immediate proximity exploded into a raging supernova yet? Has someone set off a gas bomb in the parlor car? Are you really lying half-dead in an infirmary somewhere, frothing at the mouth and dreaming up impossible scenarios?

Dan Heng's gaze flickers to the floor sheepishly, only for a moment, before he continues.

"That is why I have been, quote, 'staring at you like I want you dead'," he repeats your earlier remark, only meant to be a bit of harmless teasing. "I am not used to asking for... things like that."

No kidding. Ever since you began dating, nothing's really changed. You still sleep on the same pallet with the same guy in the same Astral Express archives. You still initiate all the physical contact (not like there's anything wrong with it being that way), and you definitely are the one to render him speechless - not the other way around!

"I--" you actually stutter, "you w-want to what?"

Delight erupts in your chest as he rushes to backpedal, in that constipated-but-endearing-Dan-Heng-way.

"Hold your hand. You are not obligated to," he elaborates quickly, cheeks and nose dusted with pink. "It's just a whim. You haven't been around as much lately."

That's true; you've been busy occupying Jarilo-VI while the rest of the crew has been traipsing about elsewhere. It's been an arduous separation (you cried after seeing a stray gray kitten in Rivet Town), but you didn't know it was affecting him this much. You frown.

"Don't," he warns, entirely willing.

"My love, my one and only!" you croon, giving him approximately one second to prepare before you launch yourself into his arms. On instinct, Dan Heng catches you, cradling your form with the utmost care - bespeaking any kind of declaration he could possibly make.

This is a lot more than he'd bargained for, you realize. You have to bite down your mad giggles so you can give him what he wants. Pulling back just a fraction, you fumble for his hand, stopping just shy of grazing his trembling fingers.

His admission echoes in your head - he wants to hold your hand. If you initiate, it'll be just like all the other times, just as nice... but not what he needs right now. Your top priority, though sometimes hard to tell, is to give Dan Heng exactly what he needs.

"Go on," you encourage, chin perched on his shoulder.

You feel the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows and takes ahold of your hand successfully. You were right; it is just as nice, maybe even a little nicer. You can't hold back your laughter anymore, even as you press your face into his neck (where gooseflesh just happens to be breaking out).

"Does that feel okay?"

Hidden inside Dan Heng's sudden question, you're able to decipher the underlying message with ease: 'Am I doing this right?'

Of course, there is no right way to show love. But for a man like Dan Heng, who would rather sustain a spear to the gut than take anything at all from you, it makes sense he'd need something to go off of; a basis to fall back on when the tide sweeps him under.

"Yes," you murmur, "it feels perfect."

You don't see yourself as his life-preserver or anything. Your boyfriend is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and finding his footing in gray areas - more proficient than you are, probably. However, as sappy as it may be, you're proud and overjoyed that he stepped out of his comfort zone all the same.

Sometimes he won't allow you to be so supportive (and it breaks your heart every time), so any praise has to be concealed in a plethora of entendres and the gaps of your interlocked fingers - the only time Dan Heng favors such an indirect approach.

That's just fine with you.

Maneuvering just enough to allow it, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He sighs, tension melting from his shoulders.

"Okay," he nods, likely signaling that it's time for you to let go.

Respectfully, you take the hint, stepping back--

Then he kisses you.

His lips are chapped but warm, swallowing up your ensuing gasp. Seems like you were doubly wrong, because Dan Heng has surprised you more than he ever has in the brief window of two minutes. You're rendered speechless, alright, more than that - you feel your eyes sting as they close in tandem with his.

After the best silence of your life, he notices your tears, something like panic in that sweet, sometimes flat voice of his.

"I'm sorry, I--did I overstep?" like he'd been scorched, he pulls his hands back immediately, much to your displeasure. They only return when you positively beam, your smile shadowed by his thumb wiping away any perceived evidence of despair.

You admire his visage, marred with concern, confusion, and an ever-growing warmth. "No, never. I'm just really happy, okay? I'm so happy with you, Baobei."

...your predilection for the cheesiest pet names is concerning, you know, but he hasn't put a stop to it just yet (at least not in private).

He withdraws for real this time, eyes of crystal enchanting as always. And when you think he can't possibly surprise you anymore than he already has, he proves you wrong again.

"Then I am content. With you, I mean," he states, firm.

That's all you need, you decide, yanking Dan Heng into another embrace for round two.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren, @mikashisus

a/n: BELL... your brain is HUGE!! tysm for this prompt and all of your support. you're so fun to chill with and i'm glad ure my mutual :3 as for other notes, thanks seth for linking those chinese naming basics. if i used baobei incorrectly, please lmk!

event post here

[wordsinhaled]

Have some Edwin & Charles making out because it's what they deserve. Thanks @shaylogic for prompting this :)

---

So, Edwin and Charles start courting, right? Because Charles is like, I've got to do this the right way! Edwin deserves to be courted! And of course, that involves, like, slowly progressing their relationship. They start going on dates, which are lovely. Charles brings Edwin flowers, and Edwin wears one on his lapel and hums to himself while shelving books in the office. They're not trying to rush, because there's no need. They have all the time in the world. And they're committed to the process! So they go out on their date of the week, and then they walk home arm in arm, and they have a bit of a kiss in the office doorway, all prim—never mind that after a few weeks, letting go of each other becomes an exercise in clinging and lingering, in a series of drawn-out, 'until next time' kisses, Don't go, not yet, wait, let me just... It grows harder and harder for them to cut things off at what Edwin would call a reasonable point and Charles might call halfway respectable: their hands start to wander; they get wrapped up in each other. On one memorable evening, matters progress from just inside the office door to up against the wall next to the office door until they tear away from one another jerkily like reluctant magnets, breathless and laughing, and slowly straighten themselves out, flushed and flustered, smoothing wrinkled clothes, flattening errant hair, touching idly for as long as they can justify... Charles doesn't think he's ever wanted anyone or anything this much. The way it feels to have Edwin like this, to be learning him like this, is swiftly becoming something he can't do without. He straightens Edwin's bow tie for him with trembling fingers, the last bit of evidence of what they'd just been doing slotting back into neatness, and Edwin finds himself holding his unnecessary breath all the while. Eventually another night finds Charles walking Edwin backwards until the backs of Edwin's thighs hit the desk and Charles pushes him to perch on it. He's sucking on Edwin's tongue, Edwin making these delicious, needy noises into his mouth and plucking at Charles' suspenders. Charles gets his hands under Edwin's suit jacket, pushing it down his arms, and Edwin shimmies to help, and the garment gets flung rather unceremoniously somewhere, neither of them much care where... And then Charles is staring at Edwin in his shirtsleeves and slipover, rosy-cheeked in the low warm light, his tie hopelessly askew, his hair in disarray from Charles' efforts, and—hold up a tick, he's got to— "Wait." Charles drops his forehead to Edwin's shoulder, panting into the space between them. "Wait—wait, I wanna—Edwin, I wanna do this right—" "Charles, you are doing this very right." Edwin sounds... god, he sounds bloody good. Like Charles has unraveled some of the tension in him, or something, with all the kissing and the reckless touching. He sounds happy, giddy even, and relaxed, and more than a little impatient, as if he wants Charles to get back to kissing him, the sooner the better. And Edwin hasn't let go of him, hasn't removed his hands from Charles' hips where they feel like twin brands, Edwin's long, pretty fingers unmoving just beneath the hem of Charles' polo shirt where they had started to journey before Charles halted them... "You know what I mean." Charles huffs. He uncurls himself so he can look at Edwin plaintively, through the fog of want that's still scattering him all over, and he thinks it's unfair that Edwin's so distractingly beautiful. "Wanna make you feel proper special, don't I? Not like some girl I chatted up 'cos I wanna get up your skirt—" "Oh, you don't?" Edwin asks dryly, and Charles can't help snorting a laugh. "Well," he says, "can't say I don't, at that..."

[lialuvsaven]

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tw: none, he's just skittish but that's understandable. Might have grammatical mistakes but English isn't my first language so whatever. The « » words are supposed to be the avgin dialect okok that's all

"Will you teach me how to speak the Avgin dialect?"

Aventurine nearly splutters out the sip of wine he was about to drink, and you observe as his whole body subtly jerks — trying to figure out if he misheard you or not.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

And yet, the only expression he sees on your face is a little smile, a hint of curiosity and optimism in those lovely eyes of yours. For some reason, he can't find it in him to appreciate that look this time.

"And why is that?" The tone of his voice is reserved, calculated, and for a millisecond, you are reminded of your job: meetings, negotiations and transaction. The air suddenly feels thicker, and although he maintains his usual smile, there's a subtle shift that suggests it may not be as genuine as it was moments ago.

"Because I….want to understand you?" You naively respond, unaware of the warnings you're triggering in his head, unaware of the amount of bells ringing in his ears. The red alarms flashing in front of his eyes are bright, and they blind him to everything else, drowning out your silhouette until he can't make out your face as a familiar one.

All he's seeing is red, red of a warning bell, red of sunset and endings, red of blood and—

"I'm not sure why you even thought that would be a good idea" a small chuckle leaves his mouth, and he shifts a little on the couch in an attempt to regain his belongings.

"After all, I don't even speak it anymore— a dead language is not something you'd benefit from learning."

"But I am a linguist" You counter, huffing a bit. "I wouldn't think a language is “less beneficial” just because it's dead. Besides, Sigonian isn't a dead language, and neither is the Avgin dialect. You are here, and you speak it."

Blink.

"What?" Aventurine grows defensive, and he shifts in his seat again; only a little. It's not okay to let others know of your discomfort, you cannot show your weaknesses. Luckily, you don't notice, and he continues carefully.

"I don't speak it— what are you saying? How could I possibly use that language?"

He picks his sentences with caution, leaving half of it up in the air for you to interpret. He can't bring himself to finish it— he can't use it when everyone else who spoke of it is presumably dead. That would only result in another restless night of futile attempts at subduing the void in his heart. Just because he knows it, doesn't mean he likes to think of it.

Aventurine does not like to remember the fact that he's the only one left of the Avgins, even though the cosmos is merciless in its reminders.

"You do speak it!!" You insist, and look into his eyes, and his eyes almost make you forget the rest of your sentence. "—You say things under your breath. When things go south, or when your catcakes do something super adorable and you can't hold a grin on your face. I've seen you multiple times, talking to yourself in an unfamiliar language. It is your mother tongue, is it not?"

Ah.

The words that escape your lips are curling into itself, flickering through the corners of his mind. I've seen you multiple times. Multiple times. Multiple times. Talking to yourself. To yourself. To yourself.

His mother tongue.

Oh, how he wishes he could talk to someone else, how he longs to talk to another Avgin in his mother tongue— in their mother tongue.

"Do I do that?" He inquires, and you affirm, still wearing a smile. Both of you have been smiling at each other, but only one of you is clawing through the walls of their mind trying their best not to leave the room right this moment. You're not an adversary, he reminds himself. You're not an enemy.

"I can't teach you that." He stares in an unusually cold tone, sending shivers down your spine. A tone Aventurine reserves for when a business deal has gone wry, for when he needs to put on his best performance and come back at the top. Unfortunately, this means there's no room for you to argue, no negotiations, no nothing.

You realize a bit too late that you've made him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry" Apologies keep flowing from your mouth, but Aventurine can barely hear them. All he knows is the warning bells in his ears are growing fainter, and you are once more becoming recognizable, the blur in your face diminishing by the second.

"It's okay," he laughs softly, ruffling your hair to dispel the gloom on your face.

"I don't remember much anyway- I can't teach you anything meaningful, you know? I think Tanti or any of the likes would do much better for your next research material than my native language. We have a reputation across the cosmos anyway, that language can't be intriguing to people."

"Huh?" You tilt your head in confusion, "I'm not going to write a paper on it though???"

"Then what did you want to learn it for?"

"Did you not hear me? I said I wanted to get to know you better."

The feeling of discomfort is back with that, and Aventurine finds himself trying to figure out how to come up with a valid excuse to end the conversation. If he isn't careful, you'll catch on. And if you catch on, you'll keep insisting on trying to understand him, to mend your mistakes and to avoid something similar in future. Then, he'd simply have to cut you off before you go too far. And he'd rather not cut you off and keep you by his side. Yes please, thanks.

You speak once more, but this time you avert your gaze from his eyes and focus on the soft carpet beneath your feet. "If you're not comfortable teaching me, I won't insist. I apologize if I overstepped. I want you to know that my intentions were not malicious. I simply wanted to learn your language so that we could converse in it, and I'm open to sharing my own language with you if you're interested."

Ah. You've now started to speak with more formal and eloquent words than usual, a habit Aventurine has picked up on thanks to observing you for so many years. You always do that when nervous, along with averting eye contact- and you're now anxious.

"it's okay," he reassures you again. "I know what you mean. So no need to worry, hm?"

His words seem to have given you a confidence boost, because your next words catch him off guard again.

"Also, I found your language to be quite beautiful."

"....Beautiful?"

"Yes," you gesture with your hands as you continue, "it's very melodious, you know? I'm familiar with the Sigonian language, as it was one of the languages I studied during my major. However, the Avgin dialect sounds... different. Of course, you're a very quiet mumbler—obviously— and I couldn't understand much- but I've realized that the Avgin is not only is not only significantly different from standard Sigonian, but it also has a much sweeter sound. As a linguist, it's disheartening to think that this sweetness has gone unnoticed by the world."

The initial panic has completely dissipated for Aventurine, replaced by a sadness even he can't place what for. He has half a mind to laugh, and tell you that his people were sweet too, but no one cared for that either. He wants to say of course it sounded sweeter, the standard Sigonian had always been dry and lacking the warmth, any Avgin would agree with you. And yet, he dares not let the dam loose.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, he decides to observe you, as the ringing in his ears has now completely silenced. The you in front of his eyes is meek, likely because you've assumed you overstepped and made him upset. He hates seeing that expression on you: truly, especially when you shouldn't have to feel that guilt. He knows you well enough to know you're not lying, and for a split second— he entertains the idea of sharing the sweetness of his language with you, to have someone else who can understand his tongue.

He decides it's not an entirely uncomfortable thought.

It has been a few weeks since he agreed to teach you the Avgin dialect, and he still finds it surprising that he made that decision. Everything related to the Avgins and their culture is dear to him, including his people, his family, and of course, kakavasha; he protects them with all of his being. However, for some reason, he has chosen to share this delicate and intimate part of himself with you. After all, he is the last known surviving Avgin—this is more than personal; it's his mother tongue, for goodness' sake!

You've proven yourself to be a very very dedicated student, absorbing every piece of information he imparts like a sponge. Aventurine is unsure of how to teach you, as he himself is losing touch with his language thanks to not speaking it for years. Because of you, he now thinks more in Avgin and realizes how much he thought he had forgotten but still remembered, and how much he thought he remembered but had forgotten.

But it's nice, to be greeted in his language whenever you two come across each other. You're still cheerful and sparkling as before, but now you can greet him in his language. «Hello, how's your day going!!!» You ask him each time, with that accent and broken words that makes you sound childish more than anything. But Aventurine could care less about that; he's quick to greet you back each time, adding a new word so you learn something from each interaction.

You've told him that he's much much more expressive whenever speaking Avgin, but he tries not to think about it.

"Manro means bread," Aventurine informs you, observing quietly as you eagerly jot it down in your notepad. "I quite like the feel of pen and paper," you told him once, and he still can't comprehend why that's preferable to typing on a screen instead.

"Mañro?" you repeat, and he has to conceal an affectionate smile at your accent. It's unfamiliar and odd, but not disliked. Never disliked.

"Manro." He corrects, and you get it down this time.

"So….«manro» means bread and you said…«pani» meant water? So let's say I wanna talk about my lunch….«I water with bread eat?» Is that how you say it?"

Aventurine purses his lips, trying to appear serious. "No, it's «I ate bread with water.» But what's with that meal choice? That can't be good for you."

You only huff in response, "hey— I'm still learning okay!! How do you say wine?"

"Mol"

"Mol— how about wanting to drink or taste?"

Aventurine raises an eyebrow, "Zumavel"

"Okok. So…. «I want to taste wine really bad. Might die.»"

Aventurine snickers at that, turning his gaze away to avoid receiving another punch from you. Despite the fact that you've opted for this inefficient learning method—since he can't provide proper grammar lessons—the sentences you're coming up with are hilarious.

"Not quite. It's «I want to drink wine so bad that I might die»" he corrects you again, and you let out an embarrassed laugh to write the correct structure down. You've promised him you'll figure out the grammatical structure and everything to him after all. And he can't say he's not hoping you actually will.

"How do you say eye?"

"Just like how you say in standard Sigonian"

"Ohhh….I've noticed that body part names are usually unchanged in the Avgin dialect. How about warmth?"

"We call it tato" he smiles at you, and your cheeks tint the faintest hue of pink as you look away.

"«Your eyes—»" you purse your lips, thinking hard to form the structure "«-Are warm right now. Very warm.»"

Aventurine's eyes widen, and for a moment he's speechless; unable to comprehend how and why. But you're blushing, and playing with the hem of your shirt, which means at the very least you aren't lying.

«I'm afraid you've become my heart» He says under his breath, the words escaping his mouth before he can even stop them. It tastes sweet in his tongue, memories of a time long gone resurfacing. He didn't even remember that saying, up until now. And now, he has a little more understanding of how sweet his mother tongue really is.

"What does that mean?" You ask him, and he merely smiles at that.

"Nothing. I just said thank you."

A/N : gah I'm sorry for that word vomit I can't stop thinking about it....like one been thinking for months about his language and what it might mean for him now that he's (presumably) the only avgin left. My mother tongue has PLENTY of dialects, and there are certain ones that are totally different from the standard (I don't understand some of those) so I kind of projected....and other than that I hope it wasn't too bad omg

[fairytsuk1]

four seasons | (s)

apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!

prompt: meeting at a holiday resort, both with friends or family tagging along

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

words: 5.4k

warnings: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, spin the bottle, marijuana mentioned, alcohol, drunk sex, begging

It's everything you thought it'd be and more. The sun shines on you in a bright gleam that warms your skin. Your plans had finally made it out of the group chat! This was going to be the best vacation ever. Your sandals slap against the concrete as you trod to your friends with your luggage.

"Hey! Can you guys believe this? It's so beautiful!"

Ayami beams, her short hair bouncing as she nods eagerly, "I can already feel myself re-energizing! All this nature and ocean—oh, it's going to be wonderful!"

Ryoka's hand slips around her girlfriend's waist with a relaxed smile. "Hell yeah. We should go ahead and check-in."

"Already done! No need to thank me," Natsumi brags as she flings the dark oak door open, "had to do it since you guys were taking your sweet time getting out of the car!"

Your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling. You must've done something heroic in your past life, maybe saving a war-torn city, to have this warm feeling fluttering in your chest. The resort is made better with your friend's banter and complimentary slippers that sink into plush carpet. 

An attendant explains things in a blur, yet your eyes are locked onto the glittering ripples of water that peek through a window. The pool is on the first floor, she says. And don't forget to ____, you ignore. Soon enough, all four of you are dashing to claim a spot on white resin lounge chairs. It feels like a dream when your manicured toes glisten under the hot summer air. It becomes more like a fairy tale when your wandering eyes land on something interesting.

He's hot. Scratch that; he's more than hot! Lecherous eyes start at sopping blonde hair pushed back by muscled biceps and veiny forearms. The way the water rolls down his back is absolutely sinful. Even his abs flex as he cockily smirks, pushing back against his red-headed friend during their game of roughhousing.

Not only is he easy on the eyes, but he looks like he fucks, which is the perfect maraschino cherry on top. You could bite into him, and it'd be sugary sweet as the sticky juice runs red down your jugular. Yeah, you could eat him alive and he'd love it. Confidence thrums through you, and you know your time is now. At the same time, he stands casually in the water, merely observing and completely unaware.

You slip in effortlessly and unnoticed, lurking like a shark behind him as you plan your words before making yourself known.

"Hey," you chirp, hands wading in the water.

You expect him to turn to you with a sly smile; maybe he'd grow close and lean on the pool edge as he asked for your name and whether you were single. Only he didn't do any of that. His eyes scan you like you're a drab beige wall, and then he has the nerve to shrug you off.

"Hey."

It's awkward. It's tense. It's very unexpected.

"What's your–"

"I don't need a drink right now," he dismisses with a casual wave.

It actually stuns you into silence. Your mouth drops open and then closes, and then opens again, "I-I'm not a worker! Do workers wear bikinis where you're from?"

The man sneers at your reaction and finally turns to face you. He's taller, broader, and you wish he wasn't so fine because he was turning out to be such a dick. You stand up straighter, squaring your shoulders to stare frustratedly into his eyes.

"No, but I don't bother paying attention to extras when I'm trying to relax," and lewd eyes dip down to your cleavage, "but maybe I can spare you some time."

"An extra!? Oh, fuck you!"

It comes out harshly, and your bottom lip droops as you stare at him: "I just came by to introduce myself, but never mind. I'm leaving."

"Then introduce yourself, or did I scare ya' off?"

You've never met a man so bold. A man with the audacity to call you an extra and still so obviously commit your curves to memory. Introductions come out in a stutter from you with warm cheeks, "and what's your name, so I can report your behavior with the front desk."

"It's Bakugou," he grunts. "Be my guest."

"I will," you challenge.

"How about I report you for harassment, hah?"

"You insulted me first!"

Bakugou shrugs with a smirk. It irritates you beyond belief to see his smug little face. The sun burns too bright and hot on you two, firing you up and encouraging you to storm out of the pool. Bakugou takes the opportunity to leer at your ass as you crawl out the side, wet swim skirt sticking to your curves and making him tug his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Damn," he grunts as you prissily walk off.

Perhaps he judged you too harshly. But then he thought about it, and you just seemed like a spoiled brat. A pretty one but a brat nonetheless. He didn't take things like that. He reassures himself under his breath, but his thoughts know what he's really thinking about: sliding those wet bikini bottoms off you and spreading your legs. It would be all for him, too. You did approach him first.

You, however, collect your things in a huff. Your move to the other end of the pool may have been petty, but you don't care. Things had to be thought through. Was it worth actually pursuing this sexy asshole guy? As you type a pro-con list into your phone, Ryoka pats your shoulder, "Are you planning on missing the game for your phone?"

The exercise will do you some good. After squeezing your friend's hand and promising to return after you change, you opt to release your frustrations on a good game of volleyball.

After a bit, it's even hotter and you've only gotten sexier. It's important to note as Bakugou stares at you from the sidelines. Sure, you were prissy, but your body was killer, and the snarl escaping you every time you spiked the ball sent wrecking balls of fantasy into his mind. You were a spitfire, and Bakugou tries to swallow the flush when you look at him in an intense adrenaline haze.

A block. A quick run to the side for a spike. Light cheering. This was the sweet escape you needed, giving you just enough space to let out your blood thirst. If you had fangs, then you'd be chomping at everyone's face! You were in the groove. Your eyes pass over him easily. And then you meet again.

Parted, pink lips with beads of sweat on your upper lip. Your hair falls messily, framing your face with sticky strands as your dark eyes pierce Bakugou's. For a minute, neither of you seems to exist in this reality. You both stay in this limbo for a second longer than you should before your head snaps forward to bump an incoming ball. Bakugou’s frozen to the core with genuine butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't even think this has ever happened to him before, or even that it ever would.

A whistle is blown, and you’re cheering with your team. It always felt good to win. It was even better when you knew you had eyes on you.

"Good game, good game! Yeah, you did amazing, Ayami…" You towel off as you relish in the glow of your success. It wasn't all due to you, but you were being a bit of a try-hard.

You don't even notice how Bakugou makes his way through the crowd. How his lips curl into a frown as someone bumps into him, and how he taps your shoulder with a gruff, "Hey."

Your head turns with hair that cracks like a whip. Obviously, you recognize him immediately. You're not happy.

"Hey," you mutter, toweling off and ready to escape. "Nice seeing you."

"Wait a minute," Bakugou's hand curls around your wrist, and you're so irritated to feel heat rush through you at seeing the sinewy muscle move. "Lemme talk to you."

"I gotta get in the shower. So, no."

"You're being stubborn. I'm sorry for earlier," he huffs with eyes that lack the confidence to look straight at you. "Let me buy you a soda or somethin'."

"What makes you think I want a soda from you, an extra?"

He almost wants to shout in your face, but he knows there's no way around that. Bakugou mumbles about not meaning it while kicking at the ground, and your posture stays stiff. It happens so quickly you almost miss it, but you catch a glimpse of a smile on his lips.

"What's so funny?! You're a real jerk, laughing and everything when you insulted me and–"

"You're all defensive at being called an extra. It's cute." 

"I have a name," you nearly stomp your foot in exasperation despite the flush crawling up your skin.

"I forgot. You stuttered it out last time," he provokes calmly with a tilt of his head. Really, he just wants to hear that pretty name on your lips again.

You try to tell yourself that there's no time to think about the compliment that flies and waves in the air like a kite. You introduce yourself calmly, emphasizing the syllables and ensuring he gets it.

Bakugou repeats your name so slowly. So pointedly, velvety tongue and eyes narrowing. You could imagine him whispering it into your neck as strong hips hump to meet yours. Maybe in the morning, with a kiss on the cheek and the taste of coffee on your tongue. He puts so much care into repeating your name that you almost cave when he asks if you want to get smoothies together.

You're a strong, independent woman. That and, well, his pissed-off face was sexy. Your glossy lips smirk at him as you cock your hip, "Sorry, I'm getting drinks with friends. I'll catch you later, though, yeah?"

"...Alright, yeah."

The way you ditch him in the dust leaves him half-chubbed in his shorts. God, you were such a cock tease. If only he could kiss you and show you what you're missing out on by playing cat and mouse. Thick fingers adjust his shorts, and Bakugou pushes his hair back, opting to turn back to his friends indulging in flower necklaces and drunk karaoke.

If you wanted to be the mouse, he had no problem being the cat.

Everything's clear-headed and far too boring and bright. Within time and the coaxing with your friends; you're grinning ear to ear after too many puffs of a joint and sips of cocktails. Things tilt around you, and the music sounds irresistible as you feel the rhythm lend you dance moves. Everything feels like ecstasy as you twirl in circles with your crew. The alcohol was flowing, and you were starting to have that craving for closeness as things ramped up and up.

Natsumi practically topples you over as she blushes into your face. "Come with me. I made some friends."

“Friends? What kinda friends?”

 "Don’t ask, just go. Come on, you have to! They’re cool, you really gotta meet 'em," your friend pleads as you give her a reluctant look.

"Well, okay…"

Natsumi hiccups as she escorts you a few tables over. She giggles about someone being your type, and there's a real worry that the alcohol is clouding her mind, and you’re about to have to reject a loser.

"Hey, Natsumi! I was wondering where you went!"

A yellow-toned boy speaks up, face flushed as he waves a sloppy hand from where he rests on a beachy pull-out. Next to him, Bakugou nurses a rum and coke, eyes red and cast downward towards the ground. They lazily crawl a path up to your eyes, a bit woozy but flickering with recognition.

No fucking way. Of course, he's here, and of course, he looks fantastic! You know your dress looks immaculate. There was no denying that, but Bakugou left your mouth embarrassingly dry. His white button-up was nice, but it was more about what it revealed; tanned skin and the promise of more the further you looked. As you looked down at his body, Bakugou looked up at yours.

As you sit down, you can't help but open your mouth, "What are you doing here?"

"My friends dragged me out, I could be sleeping by now."

You find yourself letting out a small laugh and turning toward him with interest. He really wasn't so bad.

“You sleep early?”

“You don’t?”

Amid it all, Bakugou and you end up squished together as the budding love story of your two friends blossoms. Every time their heated make out spills into limbs crossing over into your bubble, you grunt in frustration, inevitably scooting closer to your frenemy with a slight sway.

"She is so ridiculous," you comment on Natsumi with a slight huff. "So is your friend, by the way."

"Maybe they're made for each other," he snorts.

A beat of silence passes by as you both observe each-other. It was really more like admiring, though.

 "Why're you so standoffish? I said I was sorry, called you pretty, ‘nd you don't wanna give me another chance?"

He grumbles when he says it but looks curious as his teeth sink into his lip for a split second. You almost get lost in the motion as you unconsciously lean closer like a moth to a flame.

"I didn't peg you as someone who begged."

"Sometimes you make mistakes, hm? And I'm not begging, babe, trust me."

The conversation dies, but the tension grows larger. The way his voice dropped made your thighs squeeze together. Blood flowed south as Bakugou traced over your red lips and briefly down to your cleavage–nice, he smirked.

"Well, whatever," you pray the sip of your lychee martini gives you a long enough reprieve to think of how to coyly flirt back. "What are you doing here anyway? Vacationing? Dying of an illness and this is your last hoorah?"

"Just relaxing. What're you doing besides bein' a brat. Spending daddy's money?"

"I paid for this trip myself, actually!"

"I like a smart woman," he says, moving to brush his thumb lightly against your cheek. He pulls away just as fast, and you can smell the breeze of his icy cologne. "I paid for myself, too. Can't rely on anyone or anything!"

You see the mask slip just a second. The calm persona dropped to reveal his boyish grin and messy hair.

"Yeah, you really can't."

It was so terrible that you knew deep down he was cute. You couldn't pretend at all. Now that you're starting to know him, you're falling head first into really liking him. You weren't sure if your girls' trip vacation could withstand a passionate, whirlwind romance.

"Oh my god, you know what would be totally fucking fun right now? What if we played a game? You guys know spin the bottle! C'mon," Natsumi beams excitedly.

"I haven't done that since I was still smoking cigarettes!" Ryoka shakes her head with a laugh.

"But, come on," she gives you all a pleading look. "If we haven't done it in forever, wouldn't it be fun to do it one last time?"

Natsumi's heartfelt yet drunken rambles strike a chord within all of you. You glance at Bakugou, who doesn't reply, only shrugging in acquiescence to the group. To hell with it, you call, raising your drink in the air.

"You know what, let's go for it! You're right, Natsumi."

Bakugou eyes you curiously as you stand to hug your friend with a slight wobble in your step. You had a point. To hell with it!

Moments later, you all were knee-rubbing, stumbling idiots sitting in a circle. The more you admire Bakugou as you sit across from him, the more you're hoping the stars align with the spin of the bottle. The kiss would be innocent. Fun and games. It meant nothing. That's what you told yourself to repent for your future sins.

A bead of sweat glides down the back of your neck as the glass goes round and round. You watch as Natsumi eagerly kisses a flushed Kaminari, who is all too eager to receive it. Ryoka and Ayami are familiar but sweet. Kirishima lands a peck on you, but it's nothing crazy.

You miss the way Bakugou's eyes glitter with disappointment every time the green bottle spun past him mockingly, taunting him deviously with the promise of vodka-tinged kisses. Only then do you both find a line drawn between point A, you, and point B, him.

"Finally," Ryoka slurs out.

Suddenly, you're nervous. You're nervous as you sit up a bit more and scoot closer over the bottle containing the will of fate. He looks calm and relaxed, his eyelids lowered just enough to make him look… wanting. Knees graze the carpet as you inch closer until you both can feel each other's breath.

The music is still bumping. The alcohol is still flowing, yet you're stuck in this standstill with nothing to break you out of your reverie. Other than the kiss that's planted on your lips, Bakugou tastes like rum and mint gum. You wonder if you taste like lychee, or maybe you'll mix into an entirely new flavor that leaves you both with incessant cravings.

You're unsure when or who pulls away first, but it happens. Your butt plops down right as the round of giggles surrounds you. Bakugou smirked as he sat back, crossing his legs and taking a smug swig of his drink. It was unfair that you were left dazed; he was the reason for it all.

You okay? He mouths over the talking that's come instead of the next bottle spin.

Are you? You ask with a smirk, flipping your hair in jest.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a full-on grin. You feel something fond bloom in your chest. Something that makes the sound of ringing bells when you see that flash of teeth and a glimpse of a slick tongue. Someone suggests dancing, and pairs of legs come into view as they stumble out as a crew, a unit. There are two missing cogs. You both stay sitting and facing each other.

"I thought you said you were okay," he jokes as he scoots closer.

You realize you have a tendency to mimic him, "I am. You're the one who didn't even try to pretend to follow."

"I don't pretend anything, pretty. I do and say what I mean."

There's a beat of silence, and your clit throbs at the tone of his voice.

"You know what I mean?"

His voice is deep, almost mocking, as he croons at you. You're going to fuck. It might be now, on the last day of your resort, but it would happen. Set in stone, if you will.

"I think I do."

"Mhm. Let's go dance, gotta show you what a real dancer looks like."

Bakugou offers a firm hand and pulls you up like you weigh nothing. It makes you feel tiny, and you wonder if the same effect will happen as you sway your hips against his dick.

You find yourself dancing to Nelly, and hearing lulls about being a promiscuous girl. It makes satisfaction thrum in your chest at having success in your findings. Grinding did, indeed, produce the same effect. Bakugou was trying to dominate your form, and you let it happen.

Bit by bit, you find yourself caring less about the group and becoming more preoccupied with Bakugou. You let him buy you drinks, giggling as your hands jokingly interlace before you pull away coyly. He only smirks at you, chasing you wherever you go, as if he didn't want you to forget him in your intoxicated parade.

He tells you to call him Katsuki when you slur his last name out, gripping the white button as you pout tiredly, "I want to go back to my room."

"Since when am I your keeper, huh?"

Katsuki lays a steady hand on the curve of your waist and lets you fall into him.

"Don't be mean, we bonded sooo much. I thought you were this asshole guy, but you're actually kinda funny and sexy."

"I think I knew that last part. Remember when you tried this on me before?"

"Are you dumb enough to still reject me?"

"Nah, not this time," he says, making sure to drink in your gaze as he does.

Thankfully, you'd already had your first kiss. That made it easier for him to lean forward and press his lips against yours. The promise of something more, and you practically purred as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Katsuki's hands skirt down your back, down to your hips, and pull you so close, "You're sexy, too."

A bartender squawks at your behavior, and his voice floats over the music and sticky kisses to yell for you to get a room! The man at your side noses your neck and then juts forward.

"Come to my room," and he's so gruff. Like he knows you want this, "Wanna get you alone and see how feisty you are then."

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth. Surely, your friends would be fine; your eyes flit between him and the crowd dancing behind him. Yeah, they'd be alright. Your hand slips into his, and he's quick to tug you next to him by your waist. He makes you unsteady and chuckles, "Let's get goin', then."

Neither of you is composed as you tumble through Katsuki's–clearly luxurious–room onto his plush bed. He's not afraid to lift you with his raw strength and place you right where he wants you. It makes you laugh, tinged with shyness, as his red predatory eyes sweep over you before settling on your face.

It's silent as both eyes hold this deep, wanting gaze. He crawls closer, and you lay back further; he's on top of you with a forearm dipping into the mattress and a veiny hand supporting his weight. Katsuki doesn't touch you as if he's waiting for something. You can't wait anymore, and you're ungracefully yanking him closer till his body weight rests on you, and you can feel his hardness poking at your thigh.

He must have been waiting on you–the bastard! But you can't deny that feeling the rippling strength resting on your body and pressing you into the mattress feels good. You and Katsuki exchange saccharine kisses as your bodies grind together like you're one. He grits his teeth and takes a sharp inhale when your wandering hand brushes against his bulge, "don't, fuck, don't do that."

"Why? Sensitive?"

Katsuki's vermilion eyes meet yours and narrow, "you're such a tease, you know?"

His voice is low and honeyed as he slowly peels your skirt from your thick thighs.

"All I did was ignore you the first time–"

"And then I did the second!"

Seemingly having had enough of your quips, a hush falls over you when his hand swats at your thigh, "Yeah, and you're still under me, begging for my cock. Ironic, right?"

He then snickers when sticky strings stretch from your slick pussy to the cotton underwear.

"She's beggin' too."

In a flash, he's lapping at your folds and groaning at how sweet you taste.

"Oh! Oh my god, w-wait!"

“Nuh-uh, no waiting.”

He's so messy with it. His chiseled nose bumps against your clit with every lap as he mixes spit with your leaking arousal; it's so debauched, and yet you're wailing for more as you try to push his face further between your thighs. Katsuki groans and your eyes meet right when he suckles your clit with his plush, rosy lips.

"Y-Your mouth's so good, ohfuck!"

Katsuki lets out a pleased hum before wrangling your squirming hips under a flexing forearm, "don' move too much. Wanna enjoy this, babe."

His right hand comes up to toy with your soaked hole. His teeth are sharp, and he's downright predatory in how he sinks two fingers into you. They're thicker than yours; a keening whimper escapes you.

"C'mon, tell me how it feels. Since you've been dyin' for it, I want a review, baby."

There's a wet clicking sound as fingers crook against that deliciously torturous spot, leaving stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Gonna cum! Wanna cum, ‘mygod, ‘tsukiii!”

"Already? Such a needy girl," and he latches his tongue to your puffy clit, massaging it as your pleasure uncoils into a white-hot explosion.

Somewhere in the haze, you can hear Katsuki murmuring, "Good girl, good girl," and leaving sharp kisses on your inner thighs. He chuckles at how you jump, how cute, and sighs into your neck before biting your pulse point.

"Holy fuck," you mumble, hands wringing into his shirt as he peels off his shirt and makes his way up yours.

"You alright? Looked like things were good," and he has the nerve to snicker at you. "It's okay to admit it."

"You're such a cocky bastard. When are you gonna fuck me?"

Katsuki's hands are practically already in his pants as he unbuckles his belt. He shoves his jeans down, and your eyes widen at how big he looks, the fat head leaving a dark patch of pre-cum against his gray boxers. You're coming closer as he tugs off his underwear, leaving him exposed. His cock bobs, smearing on his navel, while a throaty groan escapes his lips once you wrap a soft hand around him. He's so hot and weighty in your hand that you can feel how he practically pulses in your hand; you can't help but want to go in for a little taste…

He's gentle as thick fingers press back on the crown of your head, a tut escaping his lips as he shakes his head, "No way. I'll cum way too fast, wanna give it to you good."

The scratchiness of his voice leaves your thighs pressing together. Katsuki kisses you before motioning for you to settle on your hands and knees.

"Like this?"

You're practically mewling at him! Your back arches so tauntingly, cute butt perked up in the air and swaying back and forth. Katsuki draws close, and your eyelids are fluttering when his fat head bumps against your soaked folds, "ohfuck, stop admiring me already."

"And here I thought you wanted it all nice and sweet," and you're whimpering as the head barely breaches past your pussy. "But, I'll give it to ya' how you like it."

With that, his hands are smoothing over the curve of your back as his heavy balls press against your pussy clit. You're already caving for him, with eyes threatening to roll towards the ceiling as his hips stick to yours. He's so full inside you that you can barely move, barely breathe, only able to leak around him as he grunts, "so fuckin' tight. 'S like you're a virgin."

"Katsukiii. Fuck, pleasepleaseplease move!"

He hums thoughtfully, hips rocking just the slightest inside your gummy walls.

"Ask me again," and he punctures it with a thrust that leaves you breathless.

"Please, wanna feel you fuck me. I-I've been waiting for your annoying ass, I wanna cum so bad…"

The man behind you doesn't seem convinced, though his hips move just a tad faster. " C'mon. I know you can do it. What is it you want again?"

He's pushing you to your breaking point. Katsuki's strong enough that he can press forward and bend you further into that delicious arch, nearly fucking you into the mattress if he would just move!

"Oh god, fuck me. Need to feel you take control, Katsuki, I-I can't! I need you, need you so bad, 'm gonna cry. I jus' wanna feel you breed me, please!?"

"Was that so hard?"

Within seconds, he's hunkering down and fucking you within an inch of your life. Your hands desperately cling to the duvet as if that'll ground you, but he's moving too hard and fast!

"S-So deep, ohshit!"

"Ngh, yeah? You're fucking grippin' me, I love how you sound, how you taste, how you feel–fuuuuck. Let me have it, baby."

You're wailing as you gush around him. The smell of sex is overpowering, and your panting breaths mingle with Katsuki's. You can't help but push back just a bit, the two of you joined together so intimately. His muscles ripple with every rock into your cunt. You wish you could see how debauched he looks–though your ears are privy to the hot groans and curses flying out of him as he slides home over and over and over again.

Katsuki loses himself in your pussy, head tipping back to expose the expanse of his throat as his balls tighten with his orgasm. God, fuck, did you say to breed you? He tries to recover as he watches your sneaky hand desperately rub you till you're trying to run from his thrusts (to which he only tuts and brings you back full force towards him). The slick, papping sounds echo, and you're not even sure what you're saying as you wail for him.

"Oh, 'm gonna cum all over you. Ohfuckfuckfuck, wait! I-I'm gonna, Katsuki!"

"Yeah? Cum all over this dick, let me feel it. Fuck, 'm gonna cum too, gonna fill you up."

Your wrist twists another tight circle, and you're falling apart. Your thighs shake and tight walls squeeze Katsuki, trying to draw him as deep as possible as he hits your g-spot dead on. A cry escapes you, and you know his base is creamy from your orgasm. In the haze, you can tell he's close by how his fingers twitch around your hips; you start mewling weakly for him, "cum inside me. Ohmygod!!”

He's sure he's leaving bruises, and yet he doesn't even care as he shoots rope after rope inside you. God, your pussy sucks him in like it wants every drop; despite the sensitivity, Katsuki can't help but keep moving till you're whining from overstimulation. Pulling out slowly and giving your thigh a playful swat, the two of you practically collapse into the soft sheets.

Katsuki's hand quickly grabs your chin and pulls you to face him. " Are you good?"

With your hair mussed and bruises littering your body, you were more than good. A soft nod, and then you're scooting closer for warmth. Katsuki lets it happen to your joy, a strong arm wrapping around your waist as he hoists you close.

"Good, you gonna run off of me, now?"

"No. Are you?"

"It's my room, you stalker," he teases with a toothy grin. His features are relaxed, and his red eyes are a bit glazed.

He looks wonderful. Beautiful, even.

—

You review your mental checklist one last time as you pace about your room, door open. How could it have all ended so soon? You'd spent the rest of your days happily fucking, drinking, and soaking in the luxuries of the resort.

Katsuki lingers by the doorway. A flicker of fondness grows into a fire when you turn to see him and smile. When did he get so soft?

"Hey! What's up?"

"What's up? It's your last day, and you're what's upping me."

"Katsukiii," you drag out the syllables and catch the faintest smirk on his lips. "Don't get too sad while I'm gone."

"Please," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, the two of you making eye contact that holds longer than it should.

The two of you shouldn't be so dramatic; you should try to steel yourself. It's not like you've known each other for that long, Katsuki thinks before reaching out and pulling you into a loose hug.

"See ya," he grumbles.

"Hehe, text me! Call me whenever," you mumble into the muscle of his chest.

He smells like the start of a campfire, mixed with a cool cologne that wafts like the breeze of a nearby ocean. You pull away and look into the tides of his eyes, the Red Sea staring back at you, before he gently kisses your lips.

"I'll think about it. For now, I'll walk you out," and he wraps a possessive arm around your waist.

There was no other option; he was walking you out. You squawk at his comment, "That is not an 'I'll think about it' statement!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, lemme think on it."

"Stop it!"

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II

Part I

Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!

CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood

You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven

Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax

You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out

It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there

Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible

It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.

But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.

Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?

A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing

You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 

The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 

But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.

It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.

Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 

He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.

Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook

Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 

You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 

But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.

With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 

It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows

Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 

No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.

Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.

The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.

Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your

Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you

You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.

You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path

Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.

Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.

You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 

Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.

Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night

Nightwing sighs as he handcuffs the thief. He went a lot harder than he expected but how can you blame him? His family was in danger and he needed to do everything to make sure it doesn’t happen again

The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.

Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well

The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea

You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 

Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there

Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least

Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say

Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.

Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags

Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.

It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.

Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you

Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven

You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home

[diminuel]

I said I'd try to write a little companion piece/ continuation to my Luffy time traveling into the past to meet a young Crocodile comic!

As a warning: I know nothing about ships and since this is just a little no pressure project to try to get out of writer's block I didn’t do a lot of research. There is also a plot discrepancy because Luffy mentions Bonney and her abilities which he shouldn’t know based on the frame story I’ve given this fic *lol* Also: I don't know how to write these characters yet.

No beta, sorry for mistakes.

This is a Crocodad AU fic of course! ♥

--

Maybe This Time Part 1 (3.5k)

“Better get down from there, Luffy!” Nami called from the upper deck. “I don’t quite trust these clouds.” Luffy turned to look over his shoulder, feet dangling over the railing. Nami stood with a hand over her brow, looking up at the sky. Luffy turned back to look out at the sea and tilted his head up. The sky had a pretty green hue, nearly blending seamlessly into a dark mist rising above them. A huge dark cloud had formed ahead, casting a shadow over the sea in the distance.

“Just-“

He titled forward, lost his grip on the railing. A swooping feeling of falling tickled his stomach but before he could make a surprised sound he hit the surface of the water. It felt like he was crashing through glass.

And then it was dark.

This wasn’t the first time Luffy woke up after having been tossed into the water, but for some reason he was bone dry. And oddly thirsty.

“Thirsty,” he wheezed, sticking out his tongue to escape the uncomfortable dryness of his mouth.

A small barrel with a straw was held out to him with a curt “here.” Luffy’s attention zeroed in on the offering and he grabbed it without second-thought. A couple of deep gulps of the water later he felt a lot better already. He heaved a sigh in relief. He took the straw into his mouth again, starting a thank you as he turned towards his savior.

Startled, he sucked in water and spit it out again before he could choke on it, right into the face of someone who looked shockingly familiar.

“BABA?!” Luffy yelled. The person in front of stared at him blanky, the water dripping off his face.

Luffy stared right back. Could it be? This wasn’t Baba as he knew him, but much younger. Sure, they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months, but he couldn’t change that much, right? But who else could it be? The same hair, the same eyes, the same scar, the same unimpressed expression.

A thousand questions rampaged through Luffy’s minds. How was Baba here? Last they had talked he had been still on Buggy’s homebase. Had he saved him? Where was his crew? What kind of island was this? But one question seemed most important.

“Why are you so young?!” Luffy asked, staring at Baba who couldn’t be much older than Luffy was now.

“Huh?”

“Was it Bonney?” The confusion on Baba’s face only grew.

“Who?” he asked. Luffy stared back at him taking in the complete lack of recognition on Baba’s face.

What?

“Don’t you recognize me, Baba?!” Luffy shouted in horror. The corners of Baba’s mouth twitched and his brows drew down. At least that was a marginally more familiar expression on his face.

“My name isn’t Baba,” he insisted. “And no. Should I?” That hit Luffy like Grandpa’s fist of love.

“Yes!!” Luffy argued, feeling overwhelmed and his crew wasn’t even here to help figure this out. Robin or Jinbei would know what to do! Luffy looked at the sea. It was overcast, the sun faint, the air cool. It was most likely early morning. There wasn’t a single ship visible in the bay or beyond. No other people on this beach. He could feel tears form in his eyes.

“What is going on?” he yelled.

--

There were rules for unexpected situations that had been drilled into his head at an early age. Get yourself out of any immediate danger. Figure out where your people are and regroup. Figure out where you are. Eat. Everything else can wait until after you’ve eaten.

Maybe the importance placed on food was just the Monkey family’s way of dealing with problems, but Luffy wasn’t about to complain. The perfectly grilled meat and the little stick that was loaded with huge mushrooms helped to dampen the anxious pit in his stomach. But the moment he looked up and caught a glimpse of the person sitting across from him, tearing the meat straight off the bone in an unsettling lack of finesse, he felt like he was being dunked into sea water again.

Just what was going on here? Luffy had been travelling with his crew, enjoying that exhilarating part of adventuring where you were simply sailing, facing the challenges the sea of the New World threw at you, not yet knowing where the path would take you. And then the next thing he knew he was plunged into water, sank, blacked out.

Nothing after made any sense. Because the person that had saved him…

“You’re staring.” Luffy startled at the unsettlingly unfamiliar voice. He watched the person opposite him pick his teeth. “Do I really look like that Baba person?” Maybe a smart man would keep his mouth shut and Luffy had been raised to have at least a pinch of common sense between his ears but…

Just what was he supposed to do when a young version of his father was sitting opposite him?!

“You do,” he settled on saying, wary. Baba didn’t look particularly upset by his lack of an explanation, not even a hint of annoyance pinching his brow. And that was unusual too.

What was this? A hallucination? Someone’s devil fruit power? Actual time travel?

(And why not into the future so Luffy could at least see cool robots shooting lasers?)

“What did you say your name was?” Baba asked, genuinely curious, then he pointed at the food in Luffy’s hands. “More where that came from,” he promised. “Eat.” And wasn’t that just another strange thing? Why was he so nice to him if he didn’t even know who Luffy was? Luffy stuffed the food in his mouth, chewing morosely.

“Monkey D. Luffy. I’m going to be the pirate king,” he announced, though far more subdued than he usually was when introducing himself. Baba’s eyebrow lifted.

“There’s no such thing as a king of pirates,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Isn’t that the whole point? The freedom?” Luffy swallowed his food, tilting his head in confusion. Baba put his elbow on his knee, and propped his chin in his palm. He grinned at Luffy, the expression open and joyful, almost mischievous. “That’s why I set sail. I want to do things for myself, see what I can achieve on the Grandline!” His grin softened to an expression a lot more familiar to Luffy though he couldn’t exactly place it. “A big adventure before…,” he trailed off and sat up straight, still grinning but not sharing his thoughts.

It was strange to hear Baba talk of freedom and piracy like that. While Baba had given Ace, Sabo and him a lot of practical information on what to expect out of piracy, he almost never talked about how it used to be for him when he just starting out. Luffy didn’t know when he became a pirate, what motivated him or why he gave up that freedom for a warlord position.

He just knew that nowadays everything, even freedom, was shackled by conditions upon conditions. A thousand locks for Baba and Dad to pick before it could be achieved. Luffy had never quite understood it. Freedom was so easy to achieve if you just pushed your boat off the shore.

Maybe this Baba still trusted that freedom was always within reach.

“How old are you?” Luffy blurted out, putting aside the unease about the situation to admit a little bit of curiosity. Even if it was a hallucination or the work of a very capable impostor, he wanted to know more about him. He wanted to know everything about him.

“19,” Baba answered. “And you?”

“Uh, me too,” Luffy said, then lifted his fingers. “46 minus 19.”

“27,” Baba answered right away, chewing on a mushroom. It seems Baba hadn’t yet discovered the “don’t talk with your mouth full” rule.

“27 years?” Luffy repeated in dawning horror, touching his palms to his cheeks. “I’m 27 years in the past?!” He whined and let himself drop onto his back. He stared up at the overcast sky, partially visible through the sparse trees here so close to the shore. How was that possible?! Did they sail into some sort of mystical area of the Grandline and were now all scattered across time? Was that even possible?

Baba’s face appeared in his field of vision, blocking out the sky.

“What are you talking about?” he wanted to know, his hands in his hips as he bent down to study Luffy. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re from the future.”

“But I am!” Luffy insisted and jumped to his feet. Luckily Baba straightened quickly enough to not be hit by Luffy’s head. He grimaced, momentarily distracted by the fact that even now his father was nearly a head taller than him. He shrugged it off. “I know that there is no known devil fruit that will grant the user the ability to go back in time. But there has got to be an explanation for this!”

“Other than you being insane?” Baba offered but judged by his tone and the grin stretching his lips he was teasing, not mocking. Luffy groaned, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You do realize that what you’re saying is improbable.”

“But it’s still true!” Baba didn’t react to his outburst. “I’ve seen a lot of so-called improbable things before! Islands with dinosaurs! Islands that fly in the sky! Islands where people turned into living toys!” Baba lifted his eyebrows at that. Luffy waved him off. “It was just Mingo, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying about it,” Baba answered, amusement evident. “But it seems like you’ve already travelled a bit. I thought you were new to the Grandline. You look like a rookie.”

“I’m not!” Luffy protested then pointed his thumb at his chest. “I’ve been on the Grandline for 2 years! I’ve got an amazing ship and the best crew in the world!” At the mention of his crew his spirits sunk like an anchor. He hoped they were okay…!

“Where were you when you got separated from your crew? You can’t have been washed ashore from that far away,” Baba asked. Luffy hummed, trying to remember. He scratched his head.

“We’d been on sea for about three weeks after Wano,” he said. “But we hadn’t come into stable climate yet, so I don’t think we were close to an island.”

“Wano,” Baba repeated. “You were in the New World?” He seemed surprised now. Was he doubting him again?

“You’re in the New World too,” Luffy shot back.

“No! We’re on Agaricus,” Baba insisted. Luffy squinted at him. Where had he heard that name before? He was sure he had heard Baba mention it. “The next big island you might have heard of is Alabasta.” Luffy hit his balled fist into his palm in recognition.

“The autumn island where you like to go mushroom hunting!” he said then the words registered. “What?! We’re in the first half of the Grandline?!” Baba looked about as shocked as Luffy felt.

“How do you know that?” he asked and it took a moment for Luffy to realize that he looked wary all of a sudden, his stance a lot less relaxed. Luffy knew that he should be able to defend himself against a 19-year-old version of his father, but he still didn’t want to test that hypothesis if Baba actually started to believe that Luffy was a threat.

“I told you! I’m from the future! I know you!” Luffy defended himself. Baba frowned at him, but his stance shifted just a bit. A soft sound at Luffy’s feet made him look down just to see tendrils of sand slip back down on the floor. He hadn’t even realized that Baba must have manipulated the sand to grab him if needed. When Luffy looked up Baba’s expression was serious, a crease between his eyebrows.

“27 years into the future,” Baba affirmed. “When you and your crew sailed the New World. As apparently I do too.” He rubbed his arms, his face uncertain for the first time. “I’m still alive in 27 years?”

“Obviously!” Luffy insisted, angry at the suggestion that Baba would not make it on the Grandline. “You’re strong!” A small grin appeared on Baba’s face.

“Yeah? So how do we know each other? Am I your captain or something?” Luffy wrinkled his nose but at the same time Baba did too. “Do I insist on everybody calling me Baba like fucking Whitebeard wants everyone to call him Pops?” Baba made a disgusted expression at that. Luffy of course knew that Baba and Whitebeard had history, but as most things of his father’s past, this was something he kept close to his chest. Sometimes his secrecy was quite annoying and it was hard to pretend not to care about what had happened, especially since the old man had meant so much to Ace.

“How can you already have a grudge against Whitebeard at 19?”

“Oh, so you don’t know everything, Monkey D. Luffy,” Baba said, his grim look dropping quickly at the supposed upper hand he fancied himself to have. Luffy wasn’t used to these quick mood changes. Still, instead of answering he grimaced. “What?”

“I don’t like when you call me by my full name. You only do that when you’re scolding me. Call me Luffy or Strawhat.”

“Strawhat?” Baba asked, laughing. Luffy pulled his hat from his back and put it onto his head demonstratively. “And you let me scold you? What am I? Your mom?” Luffy pressed his lips together, the question feeling like someone had upended a bucket of cold water onto his head. But Baba laughed in amusement as if the thought was absurd. “Am I your captain?”

For the first time a different kind of worry made a home in Luffy’s mind. He had arguably no experience in time traveling but he wondered if it was a good idea to let his father know too much. Could Luffy change the past just by being here? Could he change his own present if he messed up here?

Luffy knew that he was a “happy accident.” What if he told Baba who he was and Baba decided to be a bit more careful so that no happy accidents happened accidentally? That’d be horrible! Would Luffy just disappear?! Maybe this was the true danger of this situation!

“You’re not my captain! I’m the captain of my ship!” Luffy insisted, pride in his position winning out over the moment of panic.

“Then what’s our connection?” Crocodile asked and took a step closer to Luffy, a glint in his eyes that Luffy didn’t quite like. He didn’t have a sharp hook to hold under his nose but he had a sharp and menacing grin. “Spit it out, Strawhat.”

“I… I don’t know anything!” Luffy said through pursed lips, looking away. But other than grab him and shake him or worse (as Luffy had seen Baba do to people who annoyed him or lied to him) Baba just blinked at him. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

“I know someone who’s just as horrible as you are at lying!” he said. Luffy wrinkled his nose. Not everyone could lie professionally. “But why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because I am from the future!” Luffy insisted. “What if I say something that changes something big?! I don’t want that! I like my life! Maybe if someone sent me into this past, this is their objective?! What if they’re trying to kill me by letting me make a mistake here in the past that leads to me not being born?!”

“That seems far too much effort,” Baba said, looking Luffy up and down. “You don’t look particularly strong, Strawhat,” he said his tone annoyingly patronizing. “A stray bullet could kill you.”

“What?! I am strong! And my bounty is higher than yours!” he protested. Luffy would never have said that to his Baba’s face but this young version of him was different. “And I’m not going to tell you what it is!” Baba rolled his eyes.

“At least tell me I didn’t choose something as stupid as Baba as my name,” he said, then he moved his hand and a wave of sand spread over the fire they had roasted their food on, dousing it at once.

“I’ve always done my best to fly under the marine’s radar and it’s hard to break the habit. I haven’t really gotten my name out there yet,” Baba continued. He pointed at Luffy. “But I will! The world will soon hear of the exploits of Crocodile!” Luffy stared at him, taking in his wide, confident grin.

Baba looked impossibly young.

“Yes,” Luffy agreed, not sure why there was a lump in his throat. Baba smiled at him, then he reached out to pat Luffy’s shoulder. “Let’s go.” Baba turned around and started packing up the rest of the cooked meat and mushrooms. He tossed Luffy a bag, then shouldered his own. When he walked away from the camp, Luffy trailed after him.

“Where are we going?” he asked. They stepped out of the outskirts of the forest and back onto the beach. There was a small ship docking on a pier that Luffy hadn’t noticed back when he had first woken up. It wasn’t much bigger than the one Luffy had initially set out on. Far too small for a crew of more than two. Not a vessel that looked suited for the Grandline.

“You’re looking for your crew, right? And a way to get back home, wherever and whenever that might be,” Baba said and then thrust his thumb behind him, towards the ship. “So what do you say, Strawhat Luffy? Want to join me?” Luffy looked at him in surprise. Baba wasn’t exactly the kind of person to make such generous offers to strangers, at least he wasn’t today.

“Fine. But I’m captain!” Luffy said and extended his arm to grab onto the ship’s mast. He pulled himself onto the ship, Baba staring after him. Luffy sat himself down at the helm of the ship. Baba cursed to himself, then undid the rope and gave his ship a powerful shove with his foot. He turned into sand and landed on the ship next to Luffy.

“No way! This is my ship!” Luffy looked up the mast, noticing the lack of a pirate flag.

“Baba-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Crocodile, you don’t even have a pirate flag!” he said disapprovingly and for the first time Baba actually seemed embarrassed. “Does your ship have name at least?”

“Yeah, it’s the Mind Your Own Business Strawhat!” Crocodile went down into the cabin and then came back with an eternal pose. Luffy couldn’t read the name written on it. Crocodile walked to the steering wheel and then looked up at the sail. Luffy watched as sand spread from Crocodile’s body until the sails were lifted and caught the wind.

“Where are we going?” Luffy asked, inspecting the stemhead but it didn’t seem particularly comfortable to sit on. Crocodile’s ship didn’t even have a figurehead! Maybe he had a banana in his galley so Luffy could put it on the stemhead. The "Mind your Own Business Strawhat" needed least some decoration. Momentarily caught up in his musings, it took him a moment to turn back around to look up at Crocodile behind the wheel. It was strange seeing him there. He had only sailed with Crocodile on the same ship once, leaving Impel Down. He didn’t know why it seemed so strange to see him man a ship himself. He knew that his father was a pirate and yet it seemed odd to realize what that actually meant. That he hadn’t always been a warlord who tended to stay in one place or travel on marine vessels, that he hadn’t always had 2000 people under his command, that he hadn’t always been an emperor’s commander. But he looked comfortable behind the wheel, like he had never done anything else.

“Do you want to go all the way to Wano?” Luffy eventually asked and jumped up to where Crocodile was. “What about your own adventure? Don’t you want to follow the log poses and do your route around the Grandline?”

“I don’t mind making a detour,” he easily said as if it wasn’t difficult at all for him to give up his plans. “And absolutely not, I’m not going to sail into the blue like that just based on your last location in allegedly 27 years from now” Crocodile said with a scoff. “We need information.” He smiled down at the log pose. “And I might have an idea where we could get it.”

To be continued? If you find it too hard to read on here I can post it on AO3.

[ervotica]

loved up?

pairing; fred weasley x fem!reader

series; the bestfriendverse NEW! (ongoing)

warnings; allusions to self harm (reader), pining, idiots in love (but they don't know it yet), a lil sad but also fluffy

synopsis; fred gives you - his obviously platonic best friend - a cuddle in the common room. an interrogation ensues.

a/n; i'm veeeery rusty but i'm back bitches!! and proud to present.... the bestfriendverse. turning this into a lil series of drabbles (& hopefully longer chapters) if my brain keeps braining for long enough. so requests are muchly appreciated and my inbox is always open. cannot wait to explore these two in more depth!!! missed you all </3

You're halfway into Fred's lap when George and Lee round the corner to the common room, melty soft and warm with your legs over his thighs, eyes closed and lashes brushing at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

He smells lovely.

He feels even lovelier – that soft rumble of his chest that lazily pushes its way through you, his hand at the side of your neck, keeping you nuzzling against him like a needy kitten. He hikes you further up and you preen, eyes still closed, half asleep and well on your way to drooling on his shoulder.

You stretch and wheedle your arms underneath his own until your shoulder is squeezed beneath his armpit. He makes room for you, as expected.

"Oi! They're having a love-fest in here!" Lee says. You groan and dig your head further into Fred's neck. Your heartbeat ticks up when he scrubs a sweeping circle over your back with his palm outstretched –you don't even mind when he rucks up your t-shirt.

You diligently ignore the hammering in your own ears.

The other end of the settee dips and George's weight settles at your back, knuckles brushing at the back of your neck in a way he knows makes you bristle and squirm. You squeak and make to dive behind Fred.

"Leave her be, Georgie," Fred says, mock offence dripping from his every syllable. His arm lifts instinctively and he ushers you right under until you're well and truly squashed, your whole body curled inward against his chest. It's endearing how seriously he takes defending your honour. "We were very comfortable before you interrupted, you silly sod."

"I resent that comment."

"You resemble it, more like."

George gasps in faux horror. You tip your head upwards just in time to watch Lee throw his arms around the pair of you, a devious grin on his face.

You know what he's going to say, no matter how much you wish he wouldn't.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you two looked proper loved up. Wouldn't you agree, George?"

"Absolutely."

If Fred feels you deflate, he's gracious enough not to mention it. Your lips purse and you busy yourself picking at your cuticles.

"Shut up," Fred snorts as though the thought alone is utterly ridiculous. Your heart does this awful sort of flip-flop that knocks the breath right out of you– it leaves an ache that carries right down to your toes.

You try to disentangle yourself from him as smoothly as possible. You want to run and hide from this conversation, the very conversation you've been rehearsing over and over in your head for months.

Being in love with your best friend isn't for the faint of heart.

Fred clings when you attempt to slide out of his grip, tugging you right back into his side. Heat rises to your cheeks so fast you feel faint.

Honestly, you might pass out right now.

Lee's already distracted, animatedly discussing the next upcoming prank with almost concerning fervour. Fred absentmindedly fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt as he listens.

Godric, you're burning up.

You can feel George's eyes on you. You know what he wants to say – can picture it right down to the pitying look in his eyes. He's always been the more observant twin.

You don't want to hear it.

Fred won't let go no matter how much you fidget. You pick at your nails until red pools at the edges of your cuticles. The sting prickles at your eyes.

"Hey." Fred's attention snaps to you suddenly. "What's the matter, lovie? You feeling alright?"

Fucking hell. He must be doing it on purpose, surely. Your throat burns.

"Nothing," you croak. "I'm okay."

It's just convincing enough for him to leave it, though you're half sure you'll be questioned later.

He smears a kiss to the crown of your head before he stands and it almost finishes you off.

That boy is going to be the death of you.

[alexwilltellyouthings]

What if the confession happened as Edwin planned?

"I've been realizing that I..."

Charles is staring intently. Edwin can see he has no clue what's coming and it makes it easier and harder at the same time.

He almost wishes they were interrupted. Almost.

"I...", Edwin loses his words again, and looks down, sideways, trying to gather his courage anywhere else as if he doesn't know Charles' eyes are the only right place to look at.

For once, Charles doesn't say anything, sensing he needs time. Still, Edwin sees a frown just starting to form, and knows he has to get this over with for both of their sakes.

"It is not Monty", he says quickly, gazing back at Charles, "that I like".

Charles properly frowns now. After a couple of seconds, his expression changes entirely, going from confused to bewildered, and Edwin reads him easily.

"Not the Cat King, either."

Charles breathes out, breaking his composure entirely. "Thank God, mate. I mean, I wouldn't judge your taste or anything..."

Edwin raises an eyebrow and Charles chuckles.

"Okay, maybe I would, so I'm glad it's not him. But then who...?"

Edwin feels his throat close. Charles is searching him, waiting for an answer he, by all means, should know.

Edwin just stares back for a second, then two, then three, until Charles is not confused anymore. The crease between his eyebrows slowly fades and his lips part open just slightly.

Edwin gulps. "Who else?", he nearly whispers.

Charles' eyes are franctically moving between Edwin's and he tries to say something, but doesn't seem to be able to form any proper words.

Edwin rushes to continue, "You don't have to feel the same. I just needed to tell you".

And while it feels like every part of him is burning, Edwin still doesn't think this is over, not yet, so he licks his lips nervously and adds quietly: "That I'm in love with you".

That hits Charles so strongly he sways a little bit, and only then looks away.

"I, uh", he starts stupidly. "Edwin, I don't even..."

"You don't have to say anything..."

"No, but I want to", Charles says, and his own words bring him back to a steadier mindset. He takes a deep breath and sets his hands over Edwin's shoulders. "Edwin, you're my best mate. That'll never change. You're the most important person in the world to me, okay?"

Edwin nods, feeling as if it wasn't for Charles' hands, he would be combusting.

"And I don't..." Charles' grip gets a little tighter for a moment. "I don't know what that means right now, for us, or for me, but we have all the time in the world to figure it out, yeah?"

Edwin smiles without meaning to. He notices his eyes are tearful, for some reason, and Charles smiles back while bringing a hand up to dry Edwin's cheeks as those tears fall down.

"Thank you for telling me", Charles completes, and pulls Edwin into a hug.

Edwin allows it and allows himself to melt into the embrace. He agrees — they have all the time in the world, and this is just the beginning.

[fanficimagery]

Joining the Biz.

When the hotels are all booked up, your cousin asks if a few friends can crash at your place. You accept, not knowing you'll be meeting some people who will become lifelong friends and get a shot at doing what you once loved. [Part Three of Three]

Words: 9.9K Author's Note: I know Rey Mysterio is part of the LWO or whatever it's called, but for the sake of this.. he's all alone and needs help from others. Also, I know there are several females on the Smackdown roster that are amazing, but I just recently started watching again so I only mention those I'm somewhat familiar with. No offense to any of those lovely ladies. FYI, I don't write smut. The most I write is mediocre kissing lmao. And Jesus fuck. Do you know how hard it is to write a wrestling match? Why did I do this to myself?

You continue to make appearances on Raw, this time everything being filmed backstage.

The feud between father and son amps up, you being there every time to help your Tio up and glaring at a laughing Judgement Day, but more importantly at a smug Liv who thinks she's untouchable. Even the Terror Twins and Jey Uso get involved, helping Rey when Judgement Day overwhelms him. Eventually it evolves to a fight, four on four; Rey, Damian, Rhea, and Jey versus Dom, Finn, Liv, and JD with Carlito subjected to watching from the sides. Everyone knows Carlito will get involved, but so will you. Even if the fans don't know it.

Before you're revealed on Smackdown, however, you're to be an anonymous ally to Rey, Jey, and the Terror Twins for their match. Only Rey will know of the identity of the ally, leaving everyone in the dark, but everyone will know exactly where this ally is to be hidden during the duration of the match so as to not mess up what's been written in the script.

You're to have a slight makeover for Smackdown, but you can't do what they want just yet, so you settle for only the anonymous outfit. They give you an oversized black hoodie with black jeans and black booties with a chunky heel. To keep your identity hidden, they double french braid your hair, plop in purple contacts, and give you a mask like the one the Winter Soldier from the Marvel universe wears.

Between one match and the next, the arena goes dark during a commercial break. The production crew has to sneak you to the ring and hide you beneath it before the lights come back up.

(Live on Raw)

It feels like forever before the two groups swagger down to the ring and are introduced, and then even longer once the match starts.

Once you get the cue from your Tio, you slide out from beneath the ring and stay crouched by the side. The fans that see you start to cheer, and any second Liv will round the corner of the ring, running from Rhea. Sure enough, when she does, you fly up and sprint at her, spearing her to the ground.

The crowd goes wild, even more so when Rhea comes to a stop in front of you and the two of you have a stare down. She seems suspicious of you, at least up until you mockingly salute her- the same salute she'd given you when you first made your appearance on Raw. Her eyes seem to gleam with recognition then, but then your gaze is darting behind her where Carlito is running up.

Shoving Rhea aside, you superkick Carlito right across his chin. As Carlito falls, you turn towards Rhea and place your index finger over where your mouth is beneath your mask as if shushing her to keep the secret.

In the ring, there's a count of three and your Tio and friends are announced the winners. When Rhea takes her gaze off of you, you jump the barricade and rush through the crowd.

(End of segment broadcast.)

You make quick work of jumping into a waiting car in the garage, stripping off your mask behind the tinted windows and are driven to the hotel you're staying at. You find your bag at your feet, yanking out your phone and sending a text to Rhea, while also changing into normal clothing so Jey doesn't find the anonymous outfit in your room.

To Rhea: All will be revealed Friday Night. Stay tuned.

It's not until you're back in the room you're sharing with Jey that she texts back.

From Rhea: So, it's safe to assume you'll be on Smackdown? To Rhea: Paul hasn't spoken to you guys? From Rhea: What's going on? To Rhea: Shit. You didn't hear this from me, so don't spread it. My home will be Smackdown, but Paul mentioned that with how the storylines are going.. it looks like both rosters will be making appearances either night. No one's going to be stuck only on Raw or only on Smackdown. I'm not sure how long that will last though. From Rhea: This is going to be fun. Btw, Jey's convinced you were the anonymous female who helped us. To Rhea: Good luck proving it. I've done a good job making it seem like I've been in the room all night.

You send her the gif of Karen from Mean Girls where she fake coughs and says I'm sick. Rhea sends you back a laughing emoji and wishes you luck.

Later, when Jey gets back, he looks prepared to grill you about your whereabouts. But when he sees you all snuggled up and looking a little under the weather, he leans over you to kiss your forehead.

"You need anything?"

You feel bad lying to him, but it's only for a few more days. "No. Just want you to hold me. How was work?"

"You mean you didn't watch?"

"I did, but I just want to hear you talk."

Jey smiles. "Let me shower really quick and I'll tell you all about it."

Jey makes quick work of showering and when he exits the bathroom in nothing but a pair of briefs, you mentally curse the restraint the two of you have. It's no secret to either of you that you're it for one another, but taking that next step seems to be stumping the two of you. You'll be affectionate with each other and sleep in the same bed, but you've yet to kiss or anything. It's almost like you're afraid to take that final step and lose what you currently have.

But as Jey snuggles in next to you, all that seems to fade away and you listen as he recounts his day at work and how he'll be making an appearance on this upcoming Friday Night Smackdown.

Week after week, Roman's been dealing with Solo and his version of the Bloodline. Sure, he has Jimmy, and Jey's been allowed to come over when needed, but Solo has something that Roman doesn't and it's hindering his climb back to Tribal Chief.

It goes against both Roman and Jimmy's real life and alter ego's morals to lay hands on a woman, even though Nia Jax has no issue laying hands on them. So, when Paul laid out the storyline that a female wrestler would be put into Roman's side of the Bloodline, Roman was relieved but also skeptical. Who would be good enough to stand up to Nia Jax? He knows the female roster on Smackdown and there's no one decent enough besides Bayley, but Bayley doesn't seem to fit with him or Jimmy. She has her own alter ego, and it doesn't mesh well with that of Roman.

When he learns that some wrestlers will be given the green light to swap back and forth on Raw and Smackdown, he thinks of Rhea since she now has a connection to Jey, but then disregards it because she has the Terror Twin schtick going for her. When he asks Paul who his little enforcer will be, Paul merely smirks and mentions that he's going to like her just fine.

The night for the newest addition to his faction comes, and he's anxious. The storyline is pretty good, and he can't wait to see his female enforcer take out Nia Jax since Nia is currently injured and needs an excuse to be out for a few months. That and he gets to unmask her.

. .

. .

Ready for your debut, you stare at your new haircut in the mirror. They gave you a trim so your hair reached just below your shoulders while also giving you a small undercut on the left side of your head, just enough to cut a design into the shaved part. As your hair swoops over to the right, the roots along the part in your hair are dyed a vibrant red.

The purple contacts have been left out, showcasing your natural eye color. Your mask, the one you dubbed the Winter Soldier is back in place, shielding the bottom half of your face. You have your hoodie zipped all the way up to your neck, you're back in dark skinny jeans, and back in the black booties with heels.

You watch the monitors as everything unfolds out in the ring, waiting for your cue to rush to Roman's aide.

(Live on Smackdown)

The fight turns brutal fast.

Solo is livid that the Ula Fala has been stolen from his locker room, and everyone is in agreement that Roman must have taken it. But when Roman meets them in the ring, he has no idea what they're talking about.

Solo and his Bloodline are hearing nothing Roman has to say and beats him down. When he's handcuffed to the bottom rope, Nia takes her chance to get in a few hits on the ex-Tribal Chief. Only when a table is brought in and set up near one of the corners do the Usos theme song blare through the arena. As the twin brothers rush to Roman's aide, Paul Heyman seems relieved outside the ring.

When Solo sees Jimmy and Jey though, he quickly drops to roll out of the ring and drags Jacob Fatu with him. Uncaring of their cowardice, Jimmy and Jey deal with Tama Tonga and Tonga Loa. As those two are tossed from the ring, all that's left is Nia who isn't paying attention and delivering kick after kick to Roman's chest as he slouches in the corner of the ring, unable to move.

Having crept into the crowd, you jump the barricade much to everyone's glee. Jumping onto the side of the ring, you step between the bottom and middle ropes, and crouch in the corner opposite of Nia. Jimmy and Jey glance at you, but you only have eyes for Nia. As you start pounding on the mat, the crowd matches the beat with a clap of their hands.

Nia finally takes notice of the atmosphere, and she goes to turn, you stand and rush her, delivering a superkick to her chin. Dazed and confused, Nia falls. You glance between Jimmy and Jey, pointing at Nia and then pointing to the table. Both brothers glance at one another before shrugging, picking up Nia and laying her out on the table before stepping back. Paul Heyman then rushes to uncuff Roman.

Turning to the corner post closest to the table, you start to climb. The crowd goes wild as Solo and his Bloodline watch Nia be annihilated. As you stand on the top rope, you briefly glance over your shoulder to make sure you're lined up. Then with a roar as your arms stretch out on either side of you, very reminiscent of Jeff Hardy, you moonsault backwards off the top rope and put both your body and Nia's through the table.

The landing practically punches the breath out of you, but you pull it together as you crawl away from the destruction. Nia lays there, unconscious, and you stand to glare at Solo and Jacob as they reach under the bottom rope to grab Nia by the ankle and drag her out of the ring.

You pace back and forth then, adrenaline pumping and watching Solo and his Bloodline retreat up the ramp.

When the crowd quiets, you turn around, only to be met with Roman Reigns rubbing at his sore wrists. Jimmy and Jey flank him, unsure of you, and Paul Heyman stands off to the side looking a bit weary himself. At least he looks weary until you unzip the hoodie and strip it off, leaving you in an OTC shirt- Roman's merch- and the missing Ula Fala draped around your neck.

Paul Heyman gasps, Jimmy and Jey act surprised, and Roman's jaw twitches as he stares you down. Fisting your right hand, you cross your arm over your chest with your first above your heart and bow your head to Roman. A moment passes and then you take off the Ula Fala, holding it up for him. Roman watches you and hesitantly lowers his head, and you drape the Ula Fala around the rightful Tribal Chief's neck.

As the crowd goes wild for the turn of events, you stand back with your feet shoulder widths apart. Your hands clasp behind your back and you stare straight ahead. Roman takes his sweet time searching your features for any sign of deceit. He reaches for your mask then and, when you don't budge, he unclasps it.

Roman makes it as dramatic as he can as he pulls the mask off and when he does… you can see him fighting a smile when recognition sets in. Jimmy, however, has no restraint and ends up laughing when he sees it's you. Apparently, Roman and Jey weren't the only ones kept in the dark about your identity.

The crowd is surprisingly cheering for you and you're grateful for it. You weren't sure how your presence on Smackdown would be taken considering your family was on Raw.

Jimmy is slapping a stunned Jey on his shoulder, nudging him while pointing at you. Roman proceeds to shock everyone as he steps forward and envelops you in a hug, tucking your head beneath his chin and just holding you close for a moment.

"You're my female enforcer?" He asks, making sure to hide his mouth so no one can read his lips.

Pulling back a little, you stare up at him. "It looks like we're gonna be spending a lot of time together, Reigns." You allow yourself to flash a cocky smirk. "Get used to it, Big Uce."

Roman chuckles as you step out of the hug. You step to his side and grab his wrist, raising his arm in the air as high as you can while pointing at him and hollering at the crowd. Jimmy grabs his other wrist, doing the same, and then Jey grabs your other wrist to raise in the air. When you glance at him, you can see the excitement in his gaze, but he's keeping it toned down since he can't do anything to jeopardize his storyline with Rhea.

In the middle of the Smackdown ring, Roman and his Bloodline is introduced.

You, Jey, and Jimmy then break off, amping up the crowd and acknowledging Roman with a hand raised in the air, index finger pointing to the ceiling.

When it's time to head back, you pick up your mask and roll out of the ring. There are people screaming and hollering, and you flash everyone a cocky smirk while walking backstage.

(End of segment broadcast.)

Once the camera lights cut out to signify the end of filming, Jey whirls on you and backs you into a wall where he grasps your face and plants his lips on yours. The surprise doesn't even register with you because this kiss has been a long time coming, and you gladly return Jey's enthusiasm, but Jimmy's exclamation of, "Finally!", has you snapping to attention.

When you come up for air, panting and heaving, you take notice of the position you and Jey are in. Your hands are cradling his bearded face, one leg being held up on his hip with one of his hands and his other grasping at your ass. You're momentarily distracted by his own heaving chest, but you quickly snap out of it.

Hands pressing against Jey's chest, you push him away and lower your leg. Your eyes widen, especially when you hear the chuckles all around you, and you slap at his chest when he tries to crowd into your space again. "Not where there are cameras around! I am too invested in Jhea for the cameras to accidentally film you fooling around with Roman's newest addition."

Jey blinks at you. "You right, you right." He steps back, licking his bottom lip as he stares you up and down. His darkened gaze, however, proves that he's moments from losing control again. "But damn, girl. How you gonna go out there lookin' like a badass and not expect me to jump on that?"

You snort and before Jimmy or Roman can start joking, Solo steps up. "You little thief," he muses.

You're grateful for the distraction and laugh at Solo, bringing the Uso's younger brother into a hug. "Surprised?"

"Yes. You're surprisingly good at keeping secrets."

"Aw, don't feel bad, uce," Jimmy says as he slaps a hand on his brother's shoulder. "She told none of us."

"The only ones who knew were Rhea and tio Rey," you admit. "Tio Rey because he was there for my contract signing and Rhea because after spearing Liv Morgan last Monday, I teased her with a gesture that would clue her in."

"Well I'm glad you're here, even if Nia is going to kick your ass when she comes back."

You laugh. "Speaking of, where is Nia? I wanna check on her."

Before you can go check on Nia to make sure the bit with the table didn't aggravate her injury further, Solo takes it upon himself to introduce you to his cousins that made up his Bloodline faction. All three are very intimidating in the ring, but off-camera they are as lovable as Solo, Jey, Jimmy, and Roman. Then after introductions are had, you briefly meet with Nia where she jokes about you being prepared for her return because she was going to kick your little ass.

Laughing, you tell her you're looking forward to a proper match with her and that you hope her recovery goes smoothly. The production crew then gathers Roman and his Bloodline for pictures to be added to WWE's socials, introducing the reunion of the OG Bloodline, plus their newest addition.

You take pictures with your mask on and off, with the whole group, by yourself, and then with just Roman. You're excited, especially since the photographer makes you look badass and promises to email the pics to you so you can start adding some to your own socials.

Then when it's time to go to the hotel, Jimmy has to keep his twin in check every time he reaches for your hand. You're not even out of the arena yet when Jey turns handsy, and Roman has to push you in front of him to shield you from Jey's wandering hands, less the paparazzi and fans capture pictures of Jey cheating on Rhea.

During the week, you manage to make time for both your jobs- fielding calls for your main source of income and hitting the gym with Roman and Jimmy. And when you're not letting your two brothers kick your ass in the ring in preparation for taking on any male wrestler that goes after your boys, Jey has you locked away in the hotel room you share to make up for lost time.

Roman and Jimmy take great pleasure in making you run back and forth across the ring, shoulder checking you and making you practice your falls. You even have to practice falling from higher heights, making Roman and Jimmy crack up when on one particular fall, you land wrong.

"Ow. My tits." Rolling over and rubbing at your chest, Roman spews the water he'd been drinking and Jimmy falls to one knee laughing. "Fuck off," you grumble.

As you get to your feet, Jimmy can't help but muse, "I'm sure Jey will kiss it better."

"Don't tell him anything!" You warn him. "I'm all for our sudden, enthusiastic sex life, but my vagina needs a break. Jesus, it hasn't even been a full week and-"

Roman starts coughing. "No! No. We are not talking about that."

Jimmy is dying of laughter and you smirk at the Tribal Chief. "Aw, come on, Roman. Aren't you curious about your cousin's dick game?"

"Hell no."

"Fine. If you want my silence, I demand chicken tenders and ranch."

Roman grimaces. "What is it with chicken tenders and ranch?"

You shrug. "It's good."

"If you say so. Now come on. Spar with Jimmy one more time and we'll call it a day."

Jimmy has a case of the giggles during your entire spar, so it's easy for you to get the drop on him a few times.

. .

. .

When Friday Night Smackdown rolls around again, you have to deal with Solo's Bloodline alongside Jimmy, and it's the first time they get to get their hands on you so you can show how resilient you are against the men.

Jimmy has a solo, no disqualification match against Tonga Loa, who will be accompanied by Tama Tonga. You will accompany Jimmy to the ring, keeping an eye on Tama whose mission is apparently to make you as uncomfortable as possible with suggestive comments and licking his lips as he looks you up and down.

(Live on Smackdown)

The match starts, and Jimmy and Tonga are pretty evenly matched. Both take hits that have you wincing and trying not to break character and laugh, especially when Tonga takes an accidental hit to the groin area and you hear him shout, "My balls!".

You're pounding the mat, urging Jimmy to get up when you notice Tama Tonga climbing onto the side of the ring. Jimmy rolls and pins a dazed Tonga Loa, but the ref is distracted by Tama. Annoyed, you walk in Tama's direction, and he takes notice. When he smirks and hops down, you take off at a run. And when Tama opens his arms as if volunteering to let you have the first hit, you surprise him by running faster, jumping, and then kicking him with both soles of your feet.

You've just dropkicked Tama Tonga, stunning the Samoan.

However, as you're getting up, spitting curses at Tama, you're grabbed by the back of your hair. You shout, scratching at the hand holding you, and then urgently try to get away when you realize it's Jacob Fatu that has a hold of you.

With a shout, Jacob picks you up sideways and drives your back into the steel steps that lead into the ring. You scream as he drops you, rolling onto your back as you reach behind you with one hand to hold the aching spot.

"Uce! You good, uce? Get up!" You groan at Jimmy's voice, slowly getting to your hands and knees.

Roman's theme goes off, the crowd goes wild, and Roman flies down the ramp to meet Jacob Fatu head on. It's a clash of two strong personas that everyone's been wanting, so you leave them be. In the ring, however, Tama Tonga and Tonga Loa are teaming up against Jimmy.

Anger building, you stand and roll into the ring under the bottom rope. When you get to your feet and Jimmy notices you standing there, he shoves Tama Tonga off of him and Tama stumbles towards you with his back facing you.

Hands bracing on his shoulders, you jump and place both knees against his back. Then falling backwards with Tama still in hand, your knees drive hard into his back as you both fall on the mat. Hurt, Tama Tonga rolls out of the ring. You stand up, hunched just a little because your back in on fire, and Tonga Loa gets into your face. You sneer at one another, but yours slowly morphs into a smirk.

"What the hell are you smilin' about?"

"Just the fact that you're focused on me when you should be focused on Jimmy."

Your gaze darts behind him, but before he can turn, you headbutt him. Dazed, Tonga turns right into a spear from your friend.

Jimmy takes the win and as he celebrates his victory around the ring, you drop to the mat and roll under the bottom rope, sitting on the ledge. Roman walks up, hair mussed from whatever fight he got into with Jacob.

"Need a hand?"

"Not in front of the camera, Reigns," you grit out with a smile. Roman's lips twitch as he still offers you a hand, a hand which you take and hold onto as you hop off the side of the ring. Jimmy is suddenly on your other side, clapping you on the back. "Fuck!" You shout, twisting out from beneath his hands.

Immediately, Jimmy's hands go up. "My bad, uce. My bad."

You glare at him as Roman does his best to mask his chortles, and then the three of you walk up the ramp.

(End of segment broadcast)

Off camera, Jacob rushes up to you, concern in his gaze. "I'm fine," you immediately tell him.

"Are you sure? That scream didn't sound like it was fake."

You grimace at him, and then tense when someone lifts the back of your shirt. "Shit. You're bleeding."

"What?" You turn around just in time for Roman to call for a medic. "Huh. I must have caught the edge of the stairs." When you face Jacob again, you can't help but chuckle. "Jacob, it's fine! Promise."

He winces. "I know. I just- I hate that I actually hurt you."

"It's all part of the job, buddy."

When the medics come and lead you to a room, you're laid out on your front. They clean and assess the apparent two-inch gash but conclude that it doesn't need stitches. As they reclean it and bandage it up for you, they tell you that you'll be sore for the next few days and that it's best to take it easy so the wound can close. You huff, but tell them you'll speak with Paul to see what he says.

Surprisingly, Paul agrees. He tells you to rest up and that while you can accompany your faction to the ring next week, he doesn't want you in the middle of the action.

And when you get back to the hotel, you're met with a worried Jey and have to deal with his mother hen tendencies.

Talking trash is not as fun if you can't throw down with your faction. But you keep to the rules laid out for you and stand back as Solo and Roman continue their feud.

On Raw, Judgement Day and the Terror Twins feud is still going just as strong. You've been watching, growing annoyed when one week Damian and Rhea seem like this overpowered duo, only for them to get their asses kicked the following week by the entire faction they once belonged to. It amps up until Finn suggests a match- Finn, Dom, and Liv versus Damian, Jey, and Rhea. The fans seem to love the idea, so the match is made for the following Monday.

However, behind the scenes when Damian, Rhea, and Jey are talking, Judgement Day attacks them out of the blue. You're not sure what goes wrong, but something seriously happens to Rhea's knee. You're not sure how severe it is until Paul calls you, asking if you can make an appearance as Damian and Jey's third. You agree.

. .

. .

"There is so much bad blood here, that I want it to seem as unscripted as possible," Paul tells you Wednesday night when he calls a meeting between all the wrestlers involved. "The fans will go wild."

"So, there's no script for the match?" Dominik asks. "How do we know who will win and when to make the pin?"

Paul now smiles. "It's gonna be the first match of the night and you'll fight until you're exhausted. I want you guys to take it easy on each other, but the women," he says, glancing between you and Liv, "I want you feral. I want you spitting mad. Just don't seriously injure one another. The crowd seems to love when the women go off on each other."

Glancing deviously at Liv, the two of you laugh when all the other men swear at the matching smirks you're now sporting. "Free reign to kick ass?"

"Hell yes," Liv muses.

"I just want you to know right now that whatever is said or done out there on camera, it's not personal."

"I want your best, YN. Bring it."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry," Dominik says. When everyone glances at him, he says, "I've seen YN fight, truly fight, before my dad got her disciplined in the ring. If she doesn't hold back, it's gonna be a fight to be remembered."

"That's what I'm hoping for. Especially since it'll be YN's first official match. This will set the tone for her place in Roman's faction."

After a few more details are hashed out, everyone goes their separate ways.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Jey asks.

"Yes. I've been in fights before, babe. It's nothing I can't handle."

"Man, Rhea's gonna be so jealous." Damian chuckles. "We're all taught to hold back, pull our punches. And here Paul is giving you permission to seriously mess each other up."

"It's gonna be fun, but I swear you boys better take this win."

"Oh, we will," Jey muses.

When you get to the hotel, Damian walks off to find Rhea, and you and Jey head to Roman's room. He wants to know what's going on and when you tell him, he's surprised.

"You better kick some major ass, girl."

"Don't worry, I will."

"I want you in the ring by eight tomorrow morning."

"Goddammit, Reigns."

Jey laughs and Roman turns to him. "I don't know why you're laughing. You need to be there too. In fact, call Priest and tell him to meet us in the morning. I'm not going to let the two of you make the Bloodline's She-Wolf look incompetent in the ring."

Jey gapes before sighing and giving into the inevitable. Pulling out his phone, Jey texts Damian what Roman is demanding. And just when you think you can jump on the bed and relax, Roman gets down to business and starts asking questions about what you have planned for the match.

(Live on Raw)

Judgement Day takes the ring, the arena booing them as they're all smug smiles and laughter. They've just finished the replay of Judgement Day attacking Damian and Rhea last week, and then Rhea confessing to Damian and Jey in the back earlier that night that there's no way she can fight in tonight's match.

"So, you see," Liv laughs on the mic, "there will be no match tonight. Damian and Jey might have some new friends backstage, but they have no females to fill in for that pathetic Rhea Ripley."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, blue lights start flashing.

USO!

Jey walks out with Damian by his side and Rhea hobbling on crutches on his other side. Damian is the most heated, pacing back and forth as Jey amps up the crowd for a few seconds. As the music cuts out, Damian raises the mic to his mouth and says, "Güera, do everyone a favor and shut up." The crowd cheers and laughs. "Honestly, I don't know how Dom deals with your ass. Your voice is annoying as hell."

In the ring, Liv gapes and shoves at Dominik before pointing at Damian and demanding Dominik to defend her.

"You're honestly so lucky that Rhea can't fight tonight. So lucky."

"But that luck just ran out, white girl. The match is still on," Jey says, producing his own mic as the crowd cheers. "Because you right about us not havin' female friends here. But just because we have no female connections here, doesn't mean we don't have any female connections.. on Smackdown."

The crowd cheers even louder, especially when in the ring Dominik is the first to make the connection as he freezes in shock. And then, he rips the mic from Liv's hand. "No. You're lying! My prima wouldn't do that to me. We don't see eye to eye, but she would never-"

Roman's theme blares and if the crowd was loud earlier, they're deafening now.

The Tribal Chief walks out, the red Ula Fala draped around his neck. Flanking him are you and Jimmy, and behind you is Paul Heyman. You're sporting your new mask, the black mask having been painted with markings that match the tribal symbols from Roman, Jimmy, and Jey's tattoos.

"Danngggg," Jey muses as he steps up to your side, glancing at you and then staring at Liv down in the ring. "Betchu really wishing you were taking on Rhea now, huh. Because I can promise you, the Bloodline's She-Wolf is very much all bite."

"The She-Wolf?" Liv barks out a laugh before sneering. "I'm not afraid of some little bitch."

The crowd ooh's and a camera man kneels in front of you, catching your reaction. Slowly but surely, you reach up and remove your mask. Smirking, you lean into the mic that Jey holds out for you. "You will be."

As you turn towards Roman, he holds his hand out for your mask. You hand it off to him and then Jey's theme starts again. Together, you, Damian, and Jey stride down to the ring with you in the middle. Behind you, Jimmy, Roman, Rhea, and Paul Heyman follow.

Before you can stomp up the steel stairs, you feel a pat on your butt. You freeze as the fans behind you laugh and whoop, and glare at the culprit over your shoulder. "That's not very brotherly, Roman," you hiss.

He smirks. "Show 'em your teeth, She-Wolf."

You nod, jaw clenching, and then stomp up the stairs and into the ring behind Jey and Damian. Carlito and JD roll out of the ring, weary of Jimmy, Roman, and Rhea spreading out along the sidelines. Liv and Finn are glaring at the three of you, but Dominik looks like he wants to call the match off.

The bell rings, and Damian takes one step in their direction just as Dominik and Finn drop and roll out of the ring. Liv turns to seethe at them, but then turns back around. "Fine. I'll win this match myself."

Jey and Damian laugh, stepping back to step outside the ring. You step forward, smirking. "We'll see, Güerita. We'll see."

Liv screams and rushes you, but you very easily block her punch. You deliver three punches of your own, driving her into a corner post. Then switching it up, you grab onto the middle ropes and drive your shoulder into Liv's abdomen over and over.

"Stop it, prima! That's enough!"

Dominik's words garner your attention and you turn towards him. "That's enough? That's enough!?" You shout at him. "It's not nearly enough. Cowards don't get mercy."

You realize too late he was a distraction and Liv takes the upper hand. She grabs you by the hair and throws you backwards so you slam your back on the mat. Then standing over you, she delivers kick after kick until you grab her by the ankle and roll her up into a pin. Unsurprisingly, she kicks out and you stand up, grinning.

As you walk backwards, you hold a hand up and let someone tag in. It's Jey. As Jey enters the ring, Liv tags in Finn.

Finn and Jey go toe to toe, evenly matched. Finn gets the upper hand right away, but you and Damian championing for Jey reinvigorates him. When Finn, the coward, realizes he's losing the upper hand, he tags in Dominik. Dominik is too confident as he knocks Jey around, but the moment Damian is tapped in… he's nothing but a scared little boy.

Damian tosses Dominik around the ring like a rag doll that it's laughable. Carlito and JD are too close to the ring, too close to Damian, so you start to climb off the ring as inconspicuously as you can. Roman and Jimmy watch you, not interfering as you watch Liv climb off the side of the ring. When Finn helps Dominik tag team Damian as the ref gets distracted by JD, and Damian then gets up on his knees with his upper body leaning between the ropes, Liv jumps up and grabs him by the back of the head to choke him out on the rope.

Rhea sees everything go down and she chases Liv with her crutch. Liv runs around the ring, laughing over her shoulder, and giving you the perfect opportunity to catch her. Instead of spearing her, however, you pick her up by the back of her thighs and then slam her back onto the announcer's table.

Climbing on top of Liv, you rain down punch after punch. She grabs one of the small monitors on the table and hits you upside the head with it, and you roll off of her. Briefly dazed, you stumble off and right into Carlito's chest. He tries to intimidate you, but you're distracted by the liquid falling into your eyes.

Reaching up, you swipe where you feel the wetness and your hand comes away red. Fuck. You're bleeding from the head.

Carlito gets spun around by Jimmy who starts attacking him, and before you can turn there's a pair of arms wrapping around your abdomen from behind. Liv bear hugs your waist and throws you over her head, into the barricade.

THIS IS AWESOME, the crowd chants over and over.

Trying to catch your breath, Liv then stands and picks you up, tossing you into the ring. It seems Jey and Damian weren't faring as well as you hoped.

You and Liv are now the eligible wrestlers, the two of you slapping, punching, and kicking until you're out of breath. The side of your face is covered in blood, but you're not tapping out. Not today.

The cheers from your faction, your friends, and the fans get your adrenaline going once more. You start slapping and punching back harder. And then as you have her in the perfect position to superkick her, Dominik rushes between the two of you.

"Don't do it!"

You freeze, standing on one leg with the other in the air, bent as you stare at your cousin. "Get out of my way, Dom!"

"No! That's enough."

"It's enough? Now it's enough when I'm about to kick in the teeth of your precious güerita?"

Dominik goes quiet and then he slowly, cruelly smirks. "Fooled you."

"What?"

There's a sudden, sharp pain to the knee of the leg you'd been standing on. It seems Liv got enough wind to sneak around and take you out by the knee.

You go down, screaming, and Liv takes the opportunity to start kicking at your injured knee. Dominik stands over you, laughing, but then gets taken out with a spear by Jey. Then just as Finn goes to fight off Jey, Damian steps in and kicks him off the side of the ring.

Having enough, Damian turns and grasps Liv by the back of the neck and tosses her outside the ring where Carlito and JD readily catch her. "Not today, sucia."

Spitting mad at your cousin for distracting you and the now throbbing pain in your knee, you get up, hopping on your one good leg. "Really, primo? You're gonna let that little hoodrat do me dirty?"

Rolling onto his back, Dominik holds his hands up in surrender. "Listen, it's not- I didn't-"

"Save it." You spit on the mat, closest to his head. Turning, you meet Damian's gaze while pointing down at your cousin. "Put his ass on the mat. Chokeslam that cabrón!"

"It'll be my genuine pleasure, She-Wolf." Damian roars as he strips off the top half of his wrestling suit, then bends down to pick up Dominik.

Dominik tries to get away, but there's no use and Damian chokeslams him brutally. As he groans flat on his back, you push past the pain in your knee and start climbing the corner post. Once at the top rope, you stare down at your cousin who stares up with wide eyes.

Flipping Dominik off, you leap, and frog splash your own cousin before rolling over and getting back to your feet. Damian falls on top of Dominik for the pin and at the count of two, Liv rushes in. But before she can throw herself on the men to break the pin, you surprise her with a spear.

The bell rings and you remain crouched, trying to catch your breath.

Jey and Damian turn around in the ring, offering you hugs for a job well done. Even Rhea rolls into the ring, fist bumping you for taking the win. And when Damian notices you are favoring one leg over the other, he goes to support most of your weight you as Jey excitedly yeets with the crowd.

Jey's smile falters when he notices Damian supporting you and he walks up to you. He grabs you by the chin, tilting your face a certain way to find where you're bleeding from.

"M'fine." You pull your face from your grasp.

"You got a cut by the temple."

"Yeah." Huffing a laugh, you flash him a grin. "Liv caught me with a monitor. That bitch."

Jimmy suddenly jostles his brother, and you turn away, only to bump into Roman. As the others are celebrating the win, you're wincing up at your Tribal Chief.

"Need a medic?" His voice rumbles.

"Nah." You blink and then sway on the spot. "Maybe," you then amend. "And then when I'm all patched up, I want food. I'm surprisingly starving."

"Chicken tenders and ranch?"

"You know it."

Roman grins down at you before lifting your arm and draping it around his neck, helping you walk to the ropes. You crouch down and slide beneath them, surprisingly finding Damian already outside the ring and helping you hop down. You thank him, but then Roman is there and lifting you off your feet in a bridal carry.

As the crowd cheers, you groan and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. "I hate you. They're gonna start shipping us if you're not careful."

Roman merely smirks and continues to walk you backstage.

(End of segment broadcast.)

Behind the curtain and off camera, you're congratulated by everyone who'd been watching. Those in the women's division are stoked about how you and Liv put it all on the line like you did. Then after the congratulations are over, Roman and Jey escort you to the medic where the small cut by your temple is cleaned and patched up with a butterfly bandage.

There's a brief segment you all shoot, a victory dinner of sorts where it's nothing but chicken tenders, fries, and ranch. Damian, Rhea, and Jey take great pleasure in joking about Dom and chicken tendies while you, Jimmy, and Roman watch from the other side of the table. It's an odd dynamic with the goofiness on one side and the stoic seriousness on the other. But it isn't until Jimmy reaches for something on your plate that you snap out of watching everyone across the table, your hand snapping out and slapping his hand away.

The slap garners everyone's attention, Jey snorting at his twin holding his hand to his chest with a look of betrayal on his face.

Both Damian and Rhea chuckle.

"Never touch the tendies," she muses.

"Yeah," Damian rumbles. "That family has a weird thing about food."

You turn to glare at Damian, only to end up rolling your eyes. "Do not."

"Do too." Rhea smirks. Suddenly, the amusement fades as she says, "You know, I had my doubts about you when Jey said you could fill in. Family versus family is messy and you almost proved me right when you refused to kick Dom's teeth in." Remembering the betrayal makes you tense and Roman drapes an arm around the back of your shoulders. "But when you had Damian chokeslam him before you frog splashed him." She groans, smiling. "God, that was so good to watch."

Huffing a laugh, you nod. "If you ever need assistance with my primo, I'm only a phone call away." Smile fading, you also add. "And if you need a hand with that pinche puta, call me. I owe her one," you say while gesturing to the bandage at your temple.

Rhea smiles evilly and they cut the segment.

The storyline with Bloodline vs. Bloodline ended up exploding and coming to an end when Nia made her grand return, interrupting your match against Tiffany Stratton. When Nia had gotten her hands on you, Tiffany knew what to do and set up a table just outside the ring. Nia tossed you out of the ring after beating down on you, and before Jimmy or Roman could interfere, she put you through a table as payback.

And that- that was not acceptable to the Tribal Chief.

Roman Reigns had been a force to be reckoned with before there was ever a female he felt protective over, so after seeing you lying nearly unconscious in the wreckage of a table, it sent him off the deep end. For Bad Blood, Roman wanted Bloodline vs. Bloodline, and he got it.

But needless to say, Solo and his Bloodline was no match for the wrath that Roman unleashed. Even Jimmy and Jey were surprised, but the match ended and Roman made everyone acknowledge him.

Having then been given some time off so the industry can roll out other storylines, you gladly take the time to fly back home. You and Jey are very much still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, so he flies out to his own apartment to pack a few bags before flying out back to you.

Being alone with Jey in your house is a completely different experience than when it was him and the others. This time around, while still fun, there's also a sense of domesticity that should scare you. Instead, it brings you a feeling of happiness and rightness, and you can tell Jey feels the exact same way when he easily makes himself at home in your space.

You're grateful for the time off, especially since your birthday falls during your break. But since you've never made a big deal out of your birthdays, you don't mention it to Jey. The only reason he finds out is because Dominik sneaks into your house early the morning of, along with a couple of your friends.

You're sleeping peacefully when you feel something tickle your nose and you continuously swat at it until muffled laughter pulls you fully into wakefulness. When your eyes blink open, Dominik is crouched on your free side.

"Happy birthday, prima."

"Go away, Dom."

As you move to turn over and hide away against Jey's slumbering form, you spot Rhea standing atop your bed with a party hat on her head and a party horn in her mouth. "Happy birthday!" She shouts, now bouncing and tooting the horn in her mouth.

Jey jerks away, confused as hell, and when your gaze darts to the towering form at the end of your bed, your eyes narrow on a smirking Damian. "Priest?"

"Happy birthday, hermana." From behind his back, Damian produces a large confetti popper and pops it over you.

Multi-colored confetti rain down on you and you groan as you fall against the mattress. "I hate you guys. I love you, but I hate you. Get out."

"What is going on?" Jey finally asks. As you try to pull the blanket up and over your head, Dominik yanks it away.

"It's YN's birthday. Didn't you know?"

"Dom," you whine. "You know I don't celebrate. Why would I tell anyone?"

"It's your birthday?" When you meet Jey's gaze, he looks hurt. "You should have said something."

"No, babe. No," you say. As you cuddle up to him, you shake your head. "I honestly don't celebrate. I don't like dressing up for dinner reservations or going to places where they sing happy birthday to you and everyone watches in awkward silence. I just.." you trail off, sighing tiredly and knowing full well these pushy individuals are going to make you do something for your day. "If I had to choose the perfect way to spend my birthday, it's laid up in my own house while wearing the comfiest clothes I own with a smorgasbord of food in front of me and marathoning my favorite show or movies."

"Say less," Damian muses. "We're doing exactly that then."

Rhea starts excitedly bouncing at the end of your bed. "Now get up. I'm taking you out for manis and pedis, and to get the color in your hair retouched."

"Rhea," you groan.

"Nope. Up."

"Jey?" You glance at your boyfriend, hoping he'd be of some help. You're not that lucky.

"Up." He slowly grins. "But first, a shower." You roll back over with another groan, trying to burrow into your bed, only for Jey to slap you on the ass. "Get up. We're gonna shower, you're gonna go out with Rhea for a girl's day, and all the while we're gonna get shit done here."

"Fine." Very reluctantly, you start to get up. Rhea cheers, but then everyone with the exception of Jey vacates the upper level of your house.

As you and Jey both collect clothes, you disappear into the bathroom together.

He gets the water going, the bathroom steaming up just how you like it. When Jey turns around, before he can strip out of his briefs, you embrace him in a tight hug. With your arms around his waist and forehead pressing against his shoulder, you say, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Don't even worry 'bout it, baby girl." His arms wrap around you in return. "Some people like big and flashy, some people don't. And can I just say I'm actually pretty relieved you just wanna chill?"

You huff a laugh. "I figured you would be. Me and you are the same when it comes to downtime."

"Mhm. But before I send you off with Rhea…" Jey pulls away to mess with his phone he'd brought into the bathroom with him, along with a bluetooth speaker. "We're gonna start your birthday how it should have been started had I known we was gonna be celebrating you."

You frown at his back, brow furrowed. But then the familiar tune of a song resonates around the bathroom, and you can't help but bark out a laugh. Birthday Sex fills the air you readily strip out of your tank top and shorts when he turns around. "You're determined to traumatize our friends, aren't you?"

"They'll only be traumatized if you can't keep quiet."

"Birthday Sex is blaring. I think they know what's about to go down."

Jey slowly smirks and pushes down his briefs. "Only the best for my girl."

You laugh as Jey lunges for you, kissing you as he picks you up and walks you into the shower, under the heated spray. He then proceeds to start your birthday off the right way with a couple of orgasms before sending you on your way.

. .

. .

Rhea ends up taking you out for brunch before taking you to get your undercut touched up and redyeing the red in your hair, then out for mani/pedis. Through it all, she takes pics and videos. You and her serenade each other during brunch with some Justin Bieber song that had been playing over the speakers, but your favorite probably has to be when you're walking to her car after your hair is all done up and she's blaring We Like to Party by Vengaboys. You start dancing in the middle of the parking lot as she records you, laughing. With those videos in her arsenal, she then surprises you and her fans with a birthday post dedicated to her real-life bestie and that she'd forever be grateful to Dom for introducing the two of you.

When you finally get home, it's just a little after five in the evening. The boys had apparently been busy while you were gone, putting up a birthday banner, streamers, and placing balloon clusters all around the place. Your kitchen island is filled with all sorts of birthday treats and you can't help but laugh when you see it.

"Happy birthday!" Damian, Jey, and Dominik cheer when they see you.

You shake your head, accepting hugs, and then waving off Dominik and Damian when they mention needing to leave to go get the food they'd ordered. Walking up to Jey, you kiss him as he smiles, uncaring that Rhea has her phone pointed at the two of you.

Jey rubs a thumb across the undercut on the side of your head, then leaning in to kiss your cheek. "Have fun with Rhea?"

"Of course, but I missed you."

"Of course you did." He kisses you again before patting your butt. "Now go get changed. There's some stuff laid out on the bed for you."

"Yes, sir." Jey freezes and you wink, laughing as his gaze turns heated before you rush out of the kitchen.

"You two are disgustingly adorable," Rhea muses.

Jey snaps out of his lustful thoughts, pointing at Rhea and the phone in her hand. "Send me any and all pics that you have of me and YN. I'm gonna make a birthday post later."

"You finally gonna let the world know that Jey Uso is a taken man?" She slowly smiles.

"Yeah. I know the industry likes us to keep personal relationships off our socials, but that's my girl, 'ya know? I'm not tryin' to hide her."

"Good. Text the others, especially Jimmy and Roman. I know for a fact they have some good ones of the two of you."

"Good idea, uce."

Upstairs, you're staring at the outfit Jey had left out for you- a white crop top with a pair of gray sweats that say Uso on the ass, and a pink and silver birthday sash. You laugh and get dressed, careful not to mess up your hair since it's styled quite nicely. You even add a light layer of makeup so you don't look like death has warmed over in any inevitable photos, and then put on socks before heading downstairs.

"Pictures!" Rhea whoops when she sees you. "And you can't say no."

Laughing, you and Rhea take pics in front of all your birthday treats before she switches out with Jey, and you take even more pictures with him. Jey then proceeds to pull a cake out from the refrigerator and hand it to you.

"It's not much since it was all last minute," he says, "but I hope you like it."

It's a round, two-tier cake done up in various shades of purple with a marble effect. There are icing flowers along the bottom and edible pearls around the top tier with Happy Birthday, YN written in cursive on top. You smile down at it before glancing up at Jey. "It's perfect." He kisses you over the cake and then you pose with the cake as Rhea instructs you.

When Dominik and Damian eventually get back with the food, they set everything out on your coffee table while you queue up Criminal Minds on your TV.

Amidst the good food, defending that the Criminal Minds episodes with Hotch were better than those without, and some much-needed laughter, you're grateful for where you're currently at in life.

You had kept to yourself for most of your life, never getting too close to anyone. But then Dominik swooped in with these particular individuals who needed a place to stay.. and suddenly you wanted a life you never thought you'd ever have. You got the wrestling job, the man of your dreams, and friends who had quickly become family.

Then when the boys start clearing away the leftover food and instructing you to stay put, you cuddle up next to Rhea and take the moment to check the notifications on your phone. You have texts from Roman, Jimmy, Solo, Liv, and Nia that all wish you the happiest of days. You thank each of them personally and then check your social notifications. Apparently, Rhea's post blew up. The fans are all for the friendship between the two of you, and there are many questions about when Mami and the She-Wolf of the Bloodline will meet in the ring.

To tease the fans, you and Rhea snap two quick selfies- one of you with your heads tilted towards one another, cheesin' for the camera, and another with you kissing her cheek. You post them, thanking her for the much-needed girl's day. Then afterwards, you check out Roman and Jimmy's post that they had also dedicated to you- each Samoan posting candids they'd taken of you, and pics that others had taken when they caught you with them as the She-Wolf or during training as you looked up to Roman and Jimmy as they walked you through some moves they wanted you to try out. But the thing that really gets you are their captions where they both mention you as the little sister they'd always wanted and are happy to finally have.

As you're thanking them for their heartfelt words, a notification pops up about Jey tagging you in a new post. Without looking at him, you open his post and your emotions are quick to well up. The first picture is of you holding your birthday cake, nose scrunched up as you laugh. The second is one of you and Jey goofing off in your pool, the third is of you and him from Smackdown with your mask on, the fourth is of you goofing off with Solo, the fifth is one of you sleeping on the plane, the sixth is of Roman giving you a piggyback ride, but it's the seventh and eighth ones that make your breath hitch.

For the world to see, Jey posted a pic of you and him cuddling on your couch, followed by another one of you kissing.

@JeyUso_WWE: Speaking as Jey Uso, the man (not the wrestler), I'd like to take a moment to celebrate this wonderful woman. I don't like gettin' too personal on here, but these past several months have been such a whirlwind of work and the good fortune of finally findin' the girl of my dreams that I just needed to share it with the world. enterusename came into my life when I least expected it, but I am so blessed to have her by my side, doin' what we love and surroundin' ourselves with friends and family who just get us. Happy birthday, baby. Though I didn't find out it was your birthday until @DirtyDom_WWE, @DamianPriest_WWE, and @RheaRipley_WWE broke in and woke us up by jumpin' on the bed and poppin' a confetti popper over us, I hope you had a great day. Now will you please stop readin' this and get yo ass in this kitchen so we can cut the cake?

Laughing, you quickly wipe at the tears that had gathered in the corner of your eyes, like Jey's post, and type out a quick reply.

@enterusername: Te amo, bebe.

As you toss your phone aside, you get up, followed by Rhea, and enter the kitchen. You immediately hug Jey, kissing him. "Love you too, baby." You smile against his mouth, heart swelling at the affection you have for this man. "But seriously, can we cut this cake?"

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the abrupt ending! I rambled and I didn't know where to cut it off lmao.

Spanish translations: Güera/Güerita - White girl (slang) Prima - Female cousin Sucia - Dirty girl (can be slang to also mean offense to someone) Cabrón - Bastard/Asshole (you get the idea lol) Pinche puta - Fucking bitch (slang) Hermana - Sister. Te amo, bebe - I love you, baby.

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine: Part 3

You hate Logan but have a daughter together and he finds your sex toy

You should've known something was up when he had that cocky look on his face. The fact that his dimples were pressed in as he couldn't press the smirk on his face. "What logan." You groaned as he stepped further into the room a hand still behind his back.

"Forgot something in the bathroom."

"Logan-" You started, your eyes widening as you stood up and darted towards him as he backed up.

"They just didn't know who it belonged to but then I saw it." Logan continued, as his nostrils flared with the grin as he licked his lip. "Recognized the pink dildo you got because it looked so much like my-"

"Logan!" You gritted, stepping towards him and put a hand over his mouth. "Just shut up and give it back, this is humaliting enough."

"No no i dont think it is." He laughed, moving away from your hand and shutting your door with a soft click. "You still use it huh? Outta all your other toys?"

You neglected to make eye contact with him, crossing your arms over your chest. "C'mon nothing to say now?" He joked, as he hunched his shoulders forward as his hands remained behind his back. "Cause if you still love me and your using my dildo. Well I can give you the real thing any time you want."

"Logan I cant-"

"You say that, every time but I don't think you mean it. I think you want me to convince you that you can ask for me whenever you want. You know I'm yours and I never stopped being yours, Y/n." Logan said, his arms relaxing as he held the toy in his hands. Before moving forward to drop it in your hand, it was luckily wrapped in a towel so you didn't have to come face to face with just yet. He stepped in closer, as you looked into his eyes. "Whenever your ready I am here, and I'm always gonna be here."

"How do I know that? How do I know you won't get scared?"

"You won't, I don't know if Ill get scared again and hurt you." His hand came to his abdomen as he spoke. "But I know I don't want to, that Ill do everything I can to come back and try and be strong for you and our daughter. I can't promise that I won't fuck up again but Ill promise that I will always love you and Ill always be right here."

"Logan-"

"Just think about it." Logan murmured, his hand coming to your hair and pushing it away from your face. You leant in to his touch, his green hazel eyes hypnotizing you before you glanced over at his plump lips. Your hand shakily came up to his face, his eyes closing at the touch.

"Gotta kiss me first." You pressed.

"Yeah why's that?"

"Gonna have to think over something right?" You joked as he grunted his hand coming to the back of your neck to pull your mouth into his. You moaned into the kiss, the feeling so foreign to you but so comforting. Before you can deepen the kiss Logan moves back slightly breathless. Your hand moved to his chest, patting his pec as he watched your every movement. "Now bye Lo."

"Bye sweetheart."

tags: @ohtobemare@jessjessmarvelandhp

@chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland@mega-kittyglitter-1

[theninthdoor]

⭒˚｡⋆ 🍓 pac || inside your crush's mind ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ 🐞

𖦹 think of your crush, take 3 deep breaths and pick one of the piles below! lets see what is/was going through your person’s mind & if you have or ever had a chance with them. 𖦹 take only what resonates. if you feel like the pile you’ve initially picked doesn’t really apply to the person/situation you’re thinking of, it’s OK to pick another one. I'm also leaving some extra messages and keywords at the end of each reading. those may work as confirmation for some people, but if they don't mean anything to you, that doesn't mean that that's not your pile. what you should really take into account is the description I make of the person (your crush) in each pile, and that's how you will know if you have chosen the right or wrong one. please use your discernment. 𖦹 remember that this is all for entertainment purposes and that free will still exists. don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to, just because your person thinks this or that, ok? 𖦹 enjoy, my lovelies!

Pile 1 || ☎️ cards: four of pentacles rx, death rx, knight of pentacles rx, judgement rx, the chariot

not you guys landing on the player's pile… omg So, yeah- Did you ever had a chance? For sure. Anyone would have a chance with this person, I feel like. This is someone who's either constantly in love or just can't stand being alone for too long. Maybe it's just their personality - being extroverted, a connection-seeker, always open to new relationships and whatever experiences come with it -, or perhaps they are simply that charming and the options never end for them. This does feel like someone who's very much a feeler, but maybe not the wisest or yet the most mature in general (or even the most emotionally available!!). For the most part, their relationships feel quite short lived, and mostly based on physical attraction. They may have had one or two longer ones, still (for some people in specific, it feels like your crush may have been in longer-term relationship that was very talked about and known about, and they may still be heavily associated with this ex of theirs). Now, when it comes to their thoughts and feelings towards you: I'm sorry to say it, but I just don't see them having cared or caring too much... They see you quite plainly (if they know you at all); you're just a friend, coworker or acquaintance. Yet, as I said, I feel like you'd definitely still be able to have a chance with them - all you would have to do is take that step towards them and get yourself noticed. Be confident about it! I think that's what attracts them the most to someone, actually: boldness. Flirt a little with them, and see where it leads you… It might not result in the most serious, stable or long lasting relationship of all time, but maybe you'll still get to have a good time together.

⋆ extra messages:

This totally feels straight out of a 2000s coming of age movie, or some rom-com set in high school, with your crush being the popular guy/girl everyone knows and is attracted to lol. Just thought I should add that in.

Milena. Mimi. Mario. Jet-black hair. Affluent neighbourhoods. Family business. Taking acting classes. Ankles/ankle bracelets. Big family event or gathering coming up soon (like a birthday, a wedding, some special holiday…). Talking about or someone's been worrying about frown lines recently. Jennifer. Janet. J surnames. Wearing a lot of orange lately, or having just bought a new orange clothing item. Ash. Ashley.

⋆ channeled song: The Bellamy Brothers - Let Your Love Flow

Pile 2 || 💄 cards: page of wands rx, ten of pentacles rx, knight of pentacles rx, the hermit, seven of wands

So, my sweet pile 2, here we have someone who has, for sure, noticed you before! Seven of Wands + The Hermit at the bottom of the deck = this person would do anything to get to know you a little better and/or to spend more time with you. There's something about the way you are or carry yourself that makes you stand out from other people - or perhaps you're just your crush's type and that's why their eyes are on you... I don't get a whole lot of communication or movement coming from them, so even if they talk to you, it doesn't feel direct; they're not letting you know how they feel; they're not openly flirting with you. This person actually feels very much like a Virgo or Capricorn Moon; logical, careful, slow moving. Once you get them to come of their shell and finally they feel ready to say something, though, you can definitely expect them to be very direct about it. At first they study you, consider the potential of this connection, and then they decide if they should go for it or not. If they do come towards you then, they won't waste any time, again. They're saying, you know… "Hey, let's go out one of these days. I'd like to spend some time with you." or "I really like your vibe. Would you care to go on a date with me, sometime?". It's quite dry and lame actually lol. They're still not flirting, exactly. They're just putting it out there that they're interested and want to explore this connection - again, very direct and logical about the whole thing. (And their flirting skills may actually suck, btw…) In the meantime, they may get closer to you by asking you about your interests, by sitting nearby in class or at lunch, watching your ig stories or something like that. It's the small things, and they're gonna take their sweet time with this. It's not something they are losing their sleep over; it's a case they are studying.

⋆ extra messages:

Is anyone here working or studying in a scientific field? Science feels very relevant. Ron, Rob, R names. Lab coats. Law; rules and regulations. College towns. Planning (or planning on attending) a big Halloween party - and putting a lot of thought into this as of late. Wisconsin. Big 3 Libra placements. Glasgow. Glass working/art. Gallows. Gallows humour. G surnames.

⋆ channeled song: John Legend - All of Me

Pile 3 || 🎧 cards: the chariot, four of swords rx, the magician, ten of swords, queen of wands, two of wands

Listen!!- Pile 3, please go for it!! Even if this doesn't last too long, I think there's great potential here for an absolutely amazing relationship/fling! The chemistry here is just insane… I don't know if it's this person themselves, or if it's actually the result of you two coming together, but I'm feeling HOT. I'm blushing. I'm excited. There's just so much passion here! I think this person is a smooth talker; not necessarily the most extroverted or talkative, but when they do talk to you, you can't help it but feel absolutely charmed. They are good-looking, smart, polite. I get a very venusian vibe coming them. They may put a lot of effort into how they look, not by vanity but because they genuinely like to take care of themselves + find it unmannerly to go out looking like a mess.

As for what's on their mind, my dear pile 3, I have good news for you! They have noticed you and thought about you before, and everything's very positive. They find you attractive, interesting, and a great catch, really. It also seems like they may have heard quite a bit about you (coming from others), and whatever was said gave them a very good impression on you, so even if you're not that well acquainted, they hold you in high regard already. However, with this 2oW, I feel like they may have other options, and if you don't make it clear that you want to explore a relationship with them, the opportunity might just pass you by. I actually don't see them making that move themselves, I'm sorry… There are other things/people holding their attention at the moment and for the foreseeable future. Still, The Strength rx + Queen of Cups at the bottom of the deck = the potential is here, and so is the chemistry I was talking about. Once you get this started, there's no stopping it! You'll be pulled in and taken on the most amazing ride.

⋆ extra messages:

E names. Emily. Emmett. Emerson. Soccer/football. Lia/Leah. India. Indya. I + IY/YI names. 2016 being a significant year - moving, meeting, Instagram following. June. Born on the 6th of the month. History. Brown hair and green eyes. Hazel eyes. Hazelnut. German family or travelling to Germany. Studying architecture or building architectural models. Learning french.

⋆ channeled song: Rihanna - Love On The Brain

Pile 4 || ♣️ cards: justice rx, page of cups rx, five of cups, page of pentacles rx, eight of pentacles

There's something very sad about this person and this pile. Your crush may have been or may be going through a difficult period, yet I feel like they've been doing their best to hide it. They laugh a lot, smile all day, joke around, but on the inside they are going through something that has been bringing them down. I think they feel lost, confused, alone. Maybe it's a family matter (like a divorce or some kind of separation), or perhaps it's just that, for some reason, they are now being forced to leave their home, friends and/or family, and it just hasn't been easy to them to accept and deal with that. There's a loss of stability here, and a loss of community. It could've happened already, too, by the way - they may already be in separation from their loved ones or away from the place they were used to calling home. On a positive note, I feel like this is temporary and they'll recover soon. It's just a low point for them. Also, they may be dealing with some concerns regarding their future and where to go next (professionally, academically, etc.), and that only adds to it all. As for the two of you, my dear pile 3, it seems like right now just isn't the right moment for anything to happen here. You can offer them friendship, some comfort, advice, support, but that's about it, I believe. This person has a lot to figure out at the moment, on their own, and whatever they have to offer you doesn't seem to be exactly what you need or want, deep down. It would lead to heartbreak, most likely. Still, this feels so sweet and so warm. So, maybe, you should give it some time and then give it a try… Because, honestly, I do think this person has some good feelings for you (or could grow some good feelings for you, if you aren't yet acquainted). They may not know what those are exactly, but I still think something really good could bloom from this.

⋆ extra messages:

A names. Adam. Adrienne. Greenland. Finland. Art class. Discussing or studying politics. Georgia. G names. Galicia. Meeting or seeing their father/father figure for the 1st time, or their father being mentioned in conversation a lot. Surgery. Torn ankle or some other leg/foot injury. Mockingbird. Buzzcut. Red nail polish.

⋆ channeled song: Billie Eilish - Bored

deck used || Tarot of the New Vision

(Disclaimer: Based on current energies. All is alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

[aloeveratarot]

what you don't see about yourself

pick a card ᡣ𐭩

note: this is just a short general reading so if anything does not seem to resonate please simply let it go. feedback and requests are very welcome.

extended reading is on my patreon ᡣ𐭩

pile 1:

two of wands, lover, prostitute

you may lack confidence in your love life ~ you may believe that you are not worthy enough or good enough to maintain a romantic connection. i'm getting the sense that for a majority this is tied into self-worth, body image or just low self-esteem. however, others can effortlessly imagine you in a loving relationship, capable of being loved and deservingly so. they see you for all the good you have to offer ~ especially in regards to your love life. other people can see how you can make another person fulfilled romantically ~ you're attractive inside and out. i believe all you truly lack is confidence in yourself.

pile 2:

nine of swords, virgin, guide

you may not realise that you tend to take on more than you can chew at times. you might often spread yourself thin yet refuse to realise you want (and even need) to take a few steps back for your own sake. others see that you are in need of some rest, relaxation and self care. some of you may even need to hear that you should seek out guidance from a professional or simply start listening to the advice of others and their concerns. right now, your needs should come first and you should start by validating your own feelings rather than ignoring them.

pile 3:

nine of pentacles, five of swords, damsel

you don't see that you are capable of achieving anything in life ~ you are in a fortunate disposition where you can succeed in any path. however, you likely see place limits on how far your abilities can extend, which is just simply false. you may feel stuck and even indecisive but the world is your oyster and i get the sense that no matter what doors open for you, you'll be able to support yourself in the end. you tend to completely underestimate your skills and abilities ~ if you were to allow yourself to take a step forward you may prove to yourself that you are far more competent than you once thought.

[the-one-and-only-elita]

One thing that I absolutely love about TFOne's writing is that it manages to avoid a lot of the heavier criticism I've seen regarding MegOp's hero/villain dynamic over the years (trust me, the mid-2010s TF discourse was crazy)

*Spoilers Below*

First of all, the narrative benefits so much from the main 4 cast members all being a part of the same exploited mining class. So many takes on MegOp have Orion being of a higher status (an archivist, a cop, etc) while Megatron is much lower down on the social latter (a miner, a gladiator, often in the context of being a slave).

I've seen many people be put off by this, because it feels as if Megs is being villianized for being rightfully angry at the system that deeply harmed and exploited him, while Orion/Optimus is praised for taking a more pacifistic stance despite him not suffering as much from or in some ways even benefiting from the system he claims to oppose. I don't find their dynamic to be as simple as that, and I do find these takes to be a bit reductive, but I do very much see where they are coming from.

I am definitely one of those people who's very frustrated with the way pacifism is hailed as the one true path of morality, and the inherent implication that taking any sort of revenge on the people who abused/exploited you makes you just as bad as them. Also, Marvel's particular brand of demonizing any form of radical political action, despite the system clearly being broken and corrupt, but being completely unwilling to offer any other alternatives to meaningfully change things for the better.

When looking at what I described above its pretty easy to see how a lot of versions of MegOp's hero/villain dynamic unfortunately fits into that trope. Bringing it back to TFOne, you can see how Op and Meg coming from the same political/social status subverts this. The existence of Elita and Bee only further illustrates that out of the 4 people of the mining class who were all deceived, exploited, and literally mutilated in the same way it is only D-16 that completely loses himself to his rage, even to the point where he loses compassion for his own companions and disregarding the safety of the other miners (when he decides to "tears everything down" and Elita exclaims he's going to "kill everyone").

What I think I love most about the characterization in TFOne is that Orion is the radical one. Not only that, but he is praised by Elita and by extension the narrative for it. He is constantly challenging authority, and is the first to have the suspicion that their society is structured in an unjust way.

Meanwhile D-16, to be frank, is kind of a bootlicker. He fully believed in the system and that Sentinal Prime, as someone with power, had the right to decided "what was best" for those who are weaker/lesser (I wish I had the specific quote from D-16 to support this, but the movie's still in theaters). It illustrate that D-16 already held certain fascistic ideals, and that he and Orion already have fundamentally opposing moral/political values, it simply hasn't been of any consequence yet. It shows that their eventual falling out was inevitable, even if they had decided to rebuild Cybertron together.

It should also be noted that D-16's feelings of anger and betrayal do not necessarily have anything to do with the unjust system itself, but that said unjust system was predicated on a lie. Hence his fixation on deception in the post-credits scene and him naming his faction the Decepticons. Meanwhile, when Orion learns the truth he's just sort of like "yeah, I always kinda knew something was up" because again, he understood on some level that their system was predicated on injustice.

Even D-16's obsession with Megatronus Prime, while initially an endearing aspect of his character, is also an indicator of the questionably large amount of value he puts on one's strength. It foreshadows the "might makes right" ideology that the decepticons follow, and is a key part of their ideological characterization across continuities.

Instead of the narrative we often see in Transformers media were Optimus is idolized by the narrative for being more moderate and Megatron is villiainized for being radical (or so people often claim), it is instead Optimus who is rewarded and praised by the narrative for being radical, and Megatron who is villainized and punished by the narrative for holding potentially fascistic values.

I do agree with some criticism I've seen that the whole thing with killing Sentinel and D-16's final turn into villainy felt a bit rushed and more than a little cliche, but I also understand it both had a limited runtime and that it is ultimately a family film meant to be accessible to children. More importantly though, I think the movie set the groundwork early on that, no matter how this final act played out, D-16 was always going to turn to darkness, and Orion would not have been able to stop him.

Its perfectly tragic, the way all MegOp should be, while also feeling really well thought out from a thematic standpoint. I love it.