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yan-randomfandom · 2 days ago

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Jinx x GN!Thief!Reader

getting chased by your victims—the people you stole from—you stumble into one of the most iconic figure in Zaun. wait, what the fuck—is that Jinx??

→ one shot, first meeting, violence, flirtatious MC 😭

🔵 ; act 3 js stabbed me btw

"Holy shit!! Move away! Move away, move away!!"

Before Jinx can even blink, she's slammed to the ground with tangling limbs. A choked groan escapes her lips as she quickly looks up to see you. Intense blue eyes deliriously captures all of your attention.

You stare back at her, eyes widening.

"...You're gorgeous," you blurt.

Her eyes narrow in a split second. Without warning, you swiftly rise to your feet and start running away. A few more thumping sounds follow, but Jinx is too fixated to watch your retreating figure.

"And I'm sooorrrrryyyyyyyy—!!" you yell, your voice growing fainter and fainter.

Jinx stands up.

A clicking sound stops her from moving. Something is pressed against her back.

"You an apprentice?" a gruff voice asks. The object—she guesses it's a gun—digs further into her top.

She sighs.

Turns around so fast they couldn't even react.

Her hand is raised. Fingers readily posed for a trigger.

...

Wait.

Where in the absolute fuck is her gun?

She drops her empty hand and taps on her pockets, feeling within. Empty. Empty. Empty.

Oh, shit. You didn't apologize for falling onto her.

The three massive men exchange confused looks. One shrugs and nudges the other. About to do a move, a long groan suddenly rings out.

Jinx pulls under her eyes in frustration. "God. You people are amateurs!"

She's already out of there. Her feet are running through the ground. Light, swift, and desperate. Inhumanly fast. The polluted breeze hits her face. How the hell did you do that? Right under her fucking nose.

Granted, she can always make another handgun and earn more money—but you had the blue crystals.

It's not like she'll have a hard time finding you, anyway.

You left trails of your muddy steps.

"There she is!"

A sharp exhale.

In one lucky move, Jinx manages to knock out all of the offenders. They all come crashing down on top of each other. Thank God for that loose pole.

There. She got rid of the nuisances. Turning, she prepares her heel—

"Woah."

You whistle loudly. Jinx snaps her head toward your direction. Just sitting above the rooftop apartments. "Gotta say, you're amazin', lady."

With a tilt of her head, she stares immensely at the weapon in your grasp. You handle it poorly by holding the tip with two fingers. Almost like it's worthless junk.

" ... That's mine," says Jinx.

"Yours?" you imitate her action, cocking your head to the side. Your lips pull a teasing smile. "Lowkey sounds hot. Can I be yours, too?"

She studies your face for a moment before a smirk of her own shows up. "Sure can. But my attractiveness kills people. Just gimme back my stuff, will ya?"

You laugh, humming, taking your sweet time to study her weapons. The blue glow in particular has your half-hearted attention. "Y'know, I've never seen anythin' like this before."

"Hah," Jinx crosses her arms, her grin widening. "Course ya didn't. I made it. Consider it an honor you even got to touch it, let alone look at it."

You pause at her words. Then take another look at the gun.

"You made this?" you say incredulously, an eyebrow arching. "Huh. That sounds a lot like somethin' Jinx would do."

Slight movement next to you. You turn, freezing at the sight of the bluenette sitting beside you.

She takes the chance to casually take the gun from your hand. There's an unimpressed look on her face.

"Guess what?"

You stare back, chuckling sheepishly. How is it that you've worked for Silco himself a few times, but have never met Jinx before?

" ... At least I'll die at the hands of a beautiful woman."

Jinx slaps your head. You let out a small cry, rubbing the sore spot. "I know who you are, moron. Silco's looking for you."

"Oh," you mutter, digging into your bag. "I should, uh, probably give your wallet back too."

🩵

I WANTED THIS TO BE MORE... hang on-- also my bad if reader sounds like a creep i swear that isnt my intention 😭 lemme know tho

"I won't complain if you explode me here rn,, heh..."

"dude shut the fuck up i said im sparing you"

"I bet you're real impressed by my swiping skills tho"

"honestly? yeah sure"

#yan writes #arcane x reader #arcane imagines #jinx x reader #jinx arcane

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half-oz-eddie · 2 days ago

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Sorry I missed you (on purpose)

Buck knew Tommy's schedules and habits, and he knew exactly when Tommy wasn't home.

Tommy's schedule fluctuated from week to week, so how did Buck know this? Well, Buck started anti-stalking Tommy, which is...still stalking, but he was only doing it to avoid running into Tommy. It doesn't make sense. To you, to anybody, but it makes sense to Buck, and Buck's gonna Buck, right?

Tommy liked to keep the porch light on because he fed a neighborhood cat whenever he was home, and he wanted the cat to know it was safe to come on his porch and have a bite to eat. Tommy was just good like this.

It's so hard not to love him.

Monday. Porch light on. Tuesday. Porch light off. Wednesday. Porch light on, and the curtain was open. Buck's heart raced when he saw Tommy walk past the window. What was he doing? Was he alone? Buck didn't intend to stick around too long and find out, so he drove off.

Thursday. Porch light off. Perfect. Buck left a post-it note on Tommy's front door.

"Wanted to drop some things of yours, but you weren't home and I didn't want to leave them on the porch. Feel free to call or drop by anytime! -Buck"

There. Simple enough. Now Buck just had to get the hell out of there before Tommy returned.

Two days passed and Tommy hadn't called, texted or stopped by. Why?

Did the post it note blow away? Did the cat eat it? Maybe he should've reinforced the post-it with some tape or something.

Or maybe...Tommy didn't want to talk to him at all. Maybe he just hated him.

Buck carried that thought to bed.

The next day after Buck's shift, he returned home to find a post-it on his door.

"Sorry I missed you. I have some of your things as well. You can drop mine off and pick up yours this week. Or I can stop by. Your choice. -Tommy"

Buck read the note over and over again. He could hear Tommy's voice in his head with every syllable his eyes scanned on the note. It even had the lingering smell of Tommy's cologne.

Buck stuck it to his fridge.

He missed talking to him.

The next day after his shift, Buck drove past Tommy's house. Porch light on.

Buck kept driving.

The day after, Buck returned to Tommy's again. Porch light off. This was his moment.

"Sorry I missed you again. I just can't seem to remember your schedule. Stop by whenever you can."

He stuck the post-it to the door, but he was unsatisfied, so he pulled out a second post-it.

PS: hope you're taking care of that knee that was bothering you a few weeks ago. You never took that compression sleeve. Should I bring it? -Buck"

It was a little ridiculous, sure, but Buck was talking to Tommy again. Sort of, and it was great.

Buck stopped baking as often, and everyone at the firehouse thought he was making some sort of progress. He told them he was. He just didn't explain the sort of progress he was making.

When he returned home from his shift 3 days later, there were 3 post-its on his door and his eyes lit up with excitement.

"We've gotta stop (not) meeting like this. I can't seem to remember your schedule either. I'm sure we'll sort this out soon." Buck smiled as he grabbed the first post it, before reading the second.

"My knee's better, but I'd still like that compression sleeve. Do you think you could drop it off with my stuff? Or I'll pick it up." Buck smiled wider. He was glad to know Tommy's knee wasn't bothering him as much anymore, but he was happy to know he still wanted his help.

"Let me know what works for you. PS: Is that wrist still bothering you? I hope it's all healed up now. -Tommy"

Buck stuck the post-its to his fridge and smiled to himself. He was almost convinced they'd talked via post-its enough to talk via text, but he didn't feel like it was the right time yet.

He continued anti-stalking Tommy for days, waiting for the day his porch light wasn't on. It had been 4 days since the porch light was off.

Finally. He hoped Tommy wasn't too worried. Then again, he probably wasn't worried at all, Buck assumed.

"Sorry again. I just have a lot of things keeping me busy so I stop by whenever I get the chance. I'm going to try again until we get this right." Buck stuck the first note to the door.

"PS: my wrist is fine now, thanks for asking. I've been putting it to use a lot lately because I'm baking so much."

Buck stuck the second note to the door, but wanted to leave three post-its like Tommy did, just to seem equally as invested in this post-it tag.

"PPS: I almost tripped over the bowl by your front door. Are you still feeding that cat? -Buck"

Buck stuck the final note to the door feeling satisfied. He even laughed to himself when he realized he stuck them to the door in the shape of a heart with the first two on top, and the third beneath.

Tommy probably wouldn't even notice.

When a week passed and Buck hadn't seen a single post-it on his door, he was beginning to worry that Tommy grew tired of their game of tag.

The next day, there was one, single post-it on his door.

"I think maybe I should text you."

Buck's heart was beating out of his chest. Was Tommy going to text him finally?

When? What time? What day? Today? Please be today, Buck hoped.

Buck was back to checking his phone for the next few hours. He started baking again to pass the time so he'd stop obsessing over his phone.

When he heard his phone ding, he nearly jumped across the counter for it.

Buck and Tommy continued to occasionally text for a week. Occasionally became frequently, and frequently became constantly, until they were talking again about any and everything that crossed their minds.

When Tommy addressed them finally meeting in person to exchange their belongings, Buck dreaded the thought. He was convinced that exchanging their belongings would end their text exchanges, so he blew Tommy off several times with various excuses about why he was too busy to meet.

Tommy was willing to wait and continue to text Buck, until one day, the texting turned into a phone call.

"Are you avoiding me on purpose?" Tommy asked.

"I-uh-no-I-I'm not. I'm not avoiding you. Not...intentionally." Buck stammered.

Tommy laughed on the other end of the phone. "Evan." There was that teasing voice Buck so dearly missed.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I am. I wasn't ready to do this face-to-face, in case this was going to be the last time we ever saw each other. So first, I dragged it out with the post-its..."

"I knew I saw your car that night! I thought maybe I was imagining it. Maybe...I dunno, wishful thinking."

Buck listened to the momentary silence and the soft sigh on the other end of the phone.

"The notes were cute, though. I...liked them. I suppose I was avoiding you too. Just to keep this going for a little bit longer."

"Really?" Buck smiled. "Y-you were? I didn't think you even wanted to talk to me anymore—"

"Are you kidding? Of course I do. I just...I know we broke up so suddenly. I...thought maybe we wouldn't work out. I guess it all felt too real and I...ran. I've done nothing but act cowardly since that night."

"I don't think you're a coward, Tommy. I didn't mean to scare you off. If you don't think I'm ready, I can promise you that you're wrong. Since the moment you left, I haven't stopped thinking about you. The baking was just to keep me from reaching out to you so I could give you space."

"I hate space. I hate avoiding you. I miss you, Evan. So much."

"I miss you too."

There was another silence while they each gathered their thoughts.

"Do you uh...do you still want your stuff back?" Buck worriedly asked.

"The only thing I left at your apartment that I want back is you."

Buck smiled so wide, his cheeks were aching. "You mean it?"

"Of course. When are you free?"

"For you? Whenever your porch light is on." Buck answered, getting a lighthearted laugh out of Tommy.

"Well...they're on right now."

"Yeah? I'll be right there."

Leave me kudos <3

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #firebeast.doc

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luvlyycy · 21 hours ago

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— a/n : , , thought this up w @cindol in a legit heartbeat ! bestfriend!sukuna... my beloved . . maybe I'll make a pt 2 iunno!

wc : , , 1k + !

summary : , , sukuna punches ur bf thats it. thats the fic. (angst/comfort)

Sukuna hates it. Everytime he looks at your face he's reminded of how weak and vulnerable he becomes. It's the classic sun and moon duo, and he hates it.

You're always going to him for your 'boy' problems, painting his nails as you yap on about this one boy in your class. You say how handsome he is or how nice his hands look. You've never said anything like that about him, but he doesn't care; or he tells himself that.

He'll often leave snacks on your table before your lectures, or drinks next to you at lunch. It's a small reminder that he cares about you.

Everyone says that he's a bad influence on such a kind, pretty girl like you. You never listen. Glued to his side as you walk down the long hallways, his piercings and black leather jacket a contrast to your beautiful outfit, the complete opposite of his.

You don't share dorms, and he wishes he put his pride aside and requested that you did. It's bothersome, having to make his routine of walking to your dorm, catching the eyes and hearing rumors of the two of you dating on the way.

Although, the snacks he hold are currently on the floor as the door opens, his lip curling upward and nose flaring in anger as he spots him— Satoru Gojo.

"What the fuck—"

He's leant against the door, a shit eating grin plastered on the face he's ready to punch the shit out of.

Is that lipstick on his fucking neck?

"Small world, huh?" Gojo chuckles out, turning around to face you, then back at Sukuna, "Guess I should tell ya. We're datin' now." .

There's a loud crash and a blur that you see as your boyfriend stumbles backwards, his hand holding his jaw.

Sukuna punched your boyfriend.

Sukuna just fucking punched your boyfriend.

You exclaim with a loud 'what the fuck' and get up from the bed, the blanket falling to pool around your legs.

Sukuna grits his teeth together as he sees you.. clad in panties and an oversized black shirt.

He begins to laugh and turns right back to Gojo, finally noticing that he's shirtless. He barks out a loud laugh and places his hand over his face, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Gojo throws his hands up, "What the hell is your problem?!" and Sukuna stops to look at you, then back at Gojo.

He points at the both of you, "Whatever the fuck this is, I don't want to be in between it. If I am in between it— your fucking little punk ass boyfriend— is getting punched again."

"Again?" Gojo laughs out, stepping closer to Sukuna, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

You sharply yell out Gojo's name but Sukuna speaks over you, "Doesn't fucking matter you puss—" a loud 'thwack!' is heard as you see your best friend this time stumble backwards.

Blood runs down Sukuna's nose before he wipes his messily with his thumb, bringing up his fists in a messy fighting stance. He's far too angry to fight for real.

You've seen him fight, and it's nothing like what you're seeing.

They're going back and forth, Sukuna punching Gojo in places that are sure to bruise within a few hours. Gojo pushes Sukuna against the wall with his forearm against his neck as he spits some awful insults into his face, only for Sukuna to spit his own blood directly onto his cheek.

You hear Sukuna laugh, and before you know it, you're wailing; sobbing like a baby if you will.

They both turn to you, Gojo still holding a squirming Sukuna against the wall.

You've never liked violence— and Sukuna can't help but wonder, is that why you chose Gojo? Was he too.. violent?

"Get the fuck off of me— She needs me—" Sukuna shouts and Gojo cuts him off, "She doesn't need you, she needs me."

Oh. Oh.

He's right. Gojo's ... right.

His ears are ringing as he watches you cry, feeling Gojo inevitably let up on his neck and make his way over to you. He cradles you, his hands on your cheeks as he wipes your tears and snot away.

He can't tell if he's lightheaded or he's about to cry. He doesn't want to know. He doesn't say anything, just makes his way toward the door, exiting out and stepping over the drinks and snacks he had dropped earlier.

You don't need him.

Sukuna shuts the door and looks down at his hands, turning them over to look at his visibly red and bloody knuckles. More eyes are peering at him as he walks down the hallway.

It feels empty despite all the people out of their rooms due to the commotion. His phone is buzzing in his pocket the whole time, no doubt that it's you but he doesn't check.

You don't need him.

His chest fucking hurts, and he feels his eyes tear up for once. He frowns, still tasting the blood from his busted lip.

You don't need him.

Once he gets to his room, he undresses and plops down onto his bed— he's lost. He doesn't know what to do until—

He does.

He ignores you for a week, maybe two.

He often finds himself looking at the messages you sent, endless questions flooding his messages but the last one stands out.

It simply reads, 'what did i do?'.

You never needed him that's what you did. He slaps his hands against his face as he gets ready for a day of ignoring you again, he pulls a plain hoodie over his head.

He notices the nail polish on his nails is chipped almost completely off. Probably some weird metaphor for your and his friendship.

He makes his way out the door, almost recieving a heart attack as he sees you— eyes puffy and red, only in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.

" 'Kuna." you sniff, hands wiping your eyes, "What'd I do? Why did you punch Gojo? What happened?" you whine in the hallway.

Eventually you're yanked into his room and placed onto his bed, still lightly sobbing as you look up at Sukuna.

"I just, felt like punching him."

"Bull fuckin shit."

Potty mouth.

He sighs, wiping your eyes like he'd usually do before that day.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it. You don't need me." You're silent, and he looks dead serious.

"....What?"

"You don't—" "No, I heard you. I'm just, confused."

He frowns, this is the first time he's said it out loud, let alone explain it.

"I- I do need you!" you suddenly exclaim, hands gripping onto his wrists, "Fuck, Sukuna, I need you so bad." he watches more tears spill and he can't help but frown even more.

"No, you don't—"

"I do!" you cut him off, sobbing, "Remember when I had my period and had no pads? You got them for me. Or, or, whenever I got depressed you would stay in my room and make sure I ate and drank. You don't remember that? Or, when you beat up those guys who tried to bully me?? Or when... I had those silly nightmares—" you let out a soft hiccup, "and you let me sleep in your room and hug you until I fell asleep?".

He stares at you.

"I do need you, more than anyhing."

If he wanted to be vulnerable, he'd be crying right beside you, instead he whispers your name.

He crouches in front of you, a weak smile spreading across his lips as he watches you weakly reciprocate.

You laugh, and he does too, "We're fucking idiots." he laughs out, moving closer to you.

You place your hands softly on his cheeks and look at his face, "It's all my fault— I was stupid, and didn't realize in time and, and, I left Gojo when you guys fought—" he sighs.

It takes a few moments for you to realize but he kissed you.

He finally kissed you. You both melt into each other, molding into the perfect mix of night 'n day. It sparks, like the stars in the night sky and your brain clears like a sunny day.

He pulls away to whisper, "Sleep in my room." you giggle, "It's not even nighttime." and he spares a moment to smile, "Yeah, and? You need a nap."

"I do. I do need a nap actually."

You do need him.

#ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna angst #jjk angst #jjk sukuna #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x black reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk x black!fem reader #black reader #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna

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glitterymarshmellowfem · 7 hours ago

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Stella could you take your young cousin Cindy up to your room and measure her for the right size for the dress we're buying her for her Xmas present. Better do it now, she's been drinking the Thanksgiving wine a bit too much and is getting a bit tipsy. Anymore and she won't be able to walk up the stairs.

Sure mom.

And make sure you do it with her naked, so you get an exact measurement for that bodycon dress.

My pleasure mom. Come on Cindy let's get your buns upstairs.....Okay girl strip. Been drinking the wine huh?

Yeah mom has been in the backyard and hasn't noticed.

Okay let's measure your bust. Nice boobies Cindy.

Yeah, I've got one of the best racks in my grade. Boys love to feel them up.

Oh Cindy, you are the little tart. Okay now your waist. My you are thin.

That's what Ana will do for you.

Oh you have an ED. I did too at your age. What are you now 13?

No 14.

Okay now your hips. Cute butt, girl and an adorable pussy. So smooth and tight. Do you like it when I rub it like that?

Mmmmm, yeah, that feels good.

Sit on the bed with your feet over the edge. If you liked my rubbing it, let's see how you like my licking it.......

Oh Stella that's incredible. Please don't stop.

First time you've had a girl eat you?

Yes!!!

Well let's see if I can make you climax. That's it girl, you're getting close, shaking like a leaf. A little more and there! I coaxed you over the edge. Liked that?

Uh-huh!

Well when another girl pleasures you, you should reciprocate..... That's it Cindy get your head between my legs, and do what I did to you......Oh Cindy you're a natural pussy muncher.

Girls, dinner!

Okay mom.! Cindy we gotta go eat, but when you come back for Xmas, I get first dibs on eating your sweet cunt while you're wearing your new dress.

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niceonejames7 · 2 days ago

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the sirius watermelon fic was SO CUTE I NEED A PART TWO OF THEM GETTING TOGETHER

watermelon pyjamas pt.2

sirius finally tells you how he feels. (the classic angry confession trope) part 1

words: 1.7k

genre: literally idiots™ to lovers, roommate!sirius, hurt/comfort(?), confession, lil angst, ends with fluff.

a/n: guys this is like my first ask. eeeek! thanks for requesting and reading<3

.....

“I’m an idiot”

“You're gonna have to elaborate."

“James, please."

Sirius wasn't sure if he would classify this as a bad day. Realising he's in love with you wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him, but hearing James gloat about how right he had been was.

He had managed to avoid you that evening, even the next day, internally panicking over what to do. But he was home in the evening, ignoring that stupid warm feeling in his chest when he saw your shoes in front of the door.

He entered the room, and sighed.

I'm fucked.

“Did you buy fruit themed pyjamas?" Sirius asked, his eyes moving over the cherry printed clothing. He was annoyed, not at you, mostly at himself. He couldn't find a single explanation why this affected him so much, but it did.

“I have watermelon, cherry, kiwi and peach.” You counted on your fingers.

“Wear the peach one tomorrow." Sirius grimaced at his too quick of a response, thankfully his face wasn't visible. He wasn't very proud of himself right now.

"I meant like- as a suggestion, that sounds cute, you know." He tries to explain himself, cringing on his own words.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, amused by his eagerness, “Do you want these? You seem to like them a lot." You asked cheekily.

Yeah, sure. That's exactly why I want you to wear these, Sirius though internally. His thoughts had involved you in his bed with the pants on, maybe off, but he kept that shamefully to himself.

The next couple of days felt torturous. Sirius felt like he had to physically restrain himself from reaching for you. Anytime you touch his shoulder, lean against him, huddle together on the couch, he overthought everything.

Every touch left him breathless, every look made it hard to breath. I need help.

You were distraught. For some reason, for the last few days, Sirius was acting weird. He had started pulling away from you, as if watching you from a distance. No ruffling your hair, no forehead kisses, no comfortable touches. It's not as if he owed you any affection, but he had stopped.

He knew.

He knew you had feelings for him. Even if he doesn't, which you desperately hope is the truth, he has a problem. You didn't know what to do. Everytime you thought to ask him something, he'd make up an excuse and leave. He definitely didn't want to talk to you.

Lily had suggested exactly as you predicted, the usual, you should talk to him, maybe he was just busy. And other times, she had been right, but not this time. All of this had led you to the inevitable decision, something you should have done long ago. Maybe if you had, this wouldn't have happened.

……

"I'm gonna move out, Lils.” You say into the phone,"What? Why?” Lily exclaimed, rather dramatically.

You sigh,"I can't live like this. He doesn't owe me anything. I shouldn't be expecting… things from him.”

There's a slight pause before you continue,"And I can't move on if I live with him. It's too painful, and too hard."

“Here's the real reason."

Lily felt like bashing her head against a wall. How can two people be so stupid at the same time? You two were perfect for each other, both too oblivious to see the obvious.

“Listen, I really think you should just tell him, even if you move out. He wouldn't stop being your friend, honey."

You hum as she says, but part of you knows you can't say it. You don't have the guts. You hear the familiar click of the door, Sirius is home.

“Lils, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later." You hang up the phone, not listening to whatever she said at the end, too nervous to care.

Your hands are sweaty, and your hands are fidgeting constantly. Sirius comes in and can immediately sense your anxious energy,

“What happened, lovely?" He asks, his voice cooing as he moves over to you.

He's used to you busying yourself around the house, sometimes bobbing your head to music as you wash the dishes, or some other silly thing, he could go on.

“Sirius, we need to talk." You say quickly, your words too rushed, dreading this conversation.

Sirius' heart feels like it's going to lurch out.

Oh no.

He thinks that you know, somehow. That he had… he'd stopped saying it at a point. The impossibility of it all was a painful reminder. Now you're going to confront him. He's fucked.

“Okay…” He says, his voice too quiet now.

You rub your hands to pep yourself up, encouraging yourself to not lose track,

“I'm gonna move out."

The silence that takes over is one more overwhelming than any noise. Sirius is sure now, you definitely know. A dangerous dread spreads over his body, like a disease covering itself around him.

“It's not because of you, it's because of me." Sirius has the urge to scoff at the cliched statement, but his body feels too stiff, his eyes stuck on you.

But Sirius needed closure. So, whatever your feelings were, Sirius needed to hear why you're leaving.

“Why?" His voice is void of emotion. It breaks your heart.

A pitiful chuckle escaped you, “Sirius, you've made it clear you don't want me here."

Don't confront him. This wasn't the plan.

It wasn't. It wasn't even the reason you were moving out. But he was still your friend, he had still hurt your feelings. You were still mad at him, even though you had no right to be.

“What the hell do you mean?" Sirius asks, incredulous. How could he ever not want you here?

“We haven't talked properly in days. You answer me in singular words-"

Sirius cuts you off, feeling oddly defensive, even if what you were saying wasn't untrue,

“I've been busy-"

“Oh you've been busy before, Sirius. You never did this," You wave him off, but meeting his eyes, you say, “It's alright, I got the message, if you don't want me here-" Your voice rises despite your efforts as the conversation gets more heated,

"So what then? You're just gonna move out? Am I that terrible?” Sirius asks, sarcastically. Typical, you think. You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration,

"Sirius, I told you, this isn't about you,”

Right now, he isn't keen on listening to your reasoning. In his mind, it's all his fault. It's his fault that you have to leave. He's scrambling for explanations,

"Look, I'm sorry that I'm in love with you, alright? I couldn't help myself. Hell,” He laughs, pity and amusement lacing his words, “I didn't even know until a few weeks ago.”

Sirius felt like his world was falling apart. His heart has dared to love someone, and it backfired. He doesn't regret that he loves you, he couldn't. He had no control over that, ever. He was always going to be in love with you.

He only regrets that you found out, somehow. But he supposed that was also inevitable, you weren't daft.

“The point is,” His pleading eyes look at you, “It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.” His eyes are watching your face, you don't know what he might find, “Please, don't leave.”

A few moments pass, and it's as if the world is coming back to you. And one sentence rings in your head, distinct from any other sentence he's said.

I'm sorry that I'm in love with you.

“You what??” You ask, your voice full of incredulity. It feels like someone had hit you with a hammer, or pushed you off a cliff.

“I didn't want to be the guy who's your friend and then tells you he's in love with you, you know? I'm sorry that I love you, but you don't have to leave. If it matters, I will. You should stay here.” Sirius stammers out, his voice laced with pain and nervousness.

Your hands are wrapped under his, his hands clutching yours like they could stop you. They probably did stop you.

"You're in love with me?” You ask, your heart in your mouth, as if one word would be enough to tip you over.

“Please don't make me say it again." Sirius pleads, his eyes slightly watery.

Your eyes flick back and forth to both of his, searching for any kind of hesitance on his face, but it's plain. He's said those words like they were casual, as if they didn't just break your brain. There's nothing to say, or there are no words coming to your brain which are enough to convey your emotions.

A smile spreads across your lips and you bite your lips to conceal it undoing your hands from his to cradle his face,

“You’re in love with me.”

Sirius' pleading frown transforms to a confused one, and he nods, even if you hadn't asked it as a question this time.

You laugh, a watery laugh before you meet your lips to his, smiling too hard to kiss him properly.

Sirius feels like his body is on autopilot, his hands immediately cradling the back of your neck, his other one holding your wrist, his lips immediately responding to yours, as if it was all too natural.

In all his ‘foreseen’ outcomes, this hadn't been a possibility.

He smiles too, confusion still evident at the back of his mind, but he could only focus on the feeling of your lips on his, your hands holding his face.

His head tilts as he tries to get a better angle, desperate to know your tells and signs, his hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

You smile again, breaking the kiss but his lips chase you which makes you laugh more, and he hides his face in your shoulder, laughing along with you.

“You're in love with me," You say it quietly, as if you're confirming it to yourself, but he's too close by not to listen.

“And here I was, moving out because I wanted to get over you."

His head whips up, his face dumbstruck,

“What?"

“Mhmm." You bite your lips, and Sirius has half a mind to kiss you again.

“You're also in…." He trails off, his expression confused but you know exactly what he's asking,

“Sirius, I just kissed you."

“Yeah, but what if you just took pity-" You shut him up again, and he melts, exactly as you intended, moulding his body to yours, trying to get as close as he can. If this was your way to shut him up, he could get used to it.

"Wait, so you're not moving out right? Because-" And his words are cut off again, the same way from before.

He smiles against your lips, again, ecstatic. Giddy, even. Sirius could get used to this. Sirius could get used to kissing you as he arrives home.

All this because of fucking watermelon pyjamas.

#sirius black fluff #sirius black drabble #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black #sirius black angst #marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #padfoot

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sturnina · 1 day ago

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Rule number one

Dealer!Chris x Fem!reader

— tags;; drug use, a lot of curse words, no use of y/n, arguments, angst

— wc;; 1.7k

— author‘s note;; my take on dealer!chris since I find it concerning that people think it‘s a good idea for him to be a druggie, hope you enjoy <3

Rule number one is clear. You are aware of it, Chris is aware of it, everyone knows. The dealer does not take their own stuff. Because what happens then? It goes down way too fast. It is too dangerous.

Everyone knows. With an almost infinite supply of more, always more, it is a risk you cannot take.

And yet, you’re here. Standing in front of Chris, with a deep and dark pit in your stomach. Fuck. His eyes are clearly dilated, and his heart is racing—you can feel it through his shirt when you press your hand against his chest. He mutters something incoherent, a smile dripping from his lips.

“What was it?” you mumble, more to yourself. At least you’re alone with him, away from his brothers or customers. “What did you take?” you ask again, louder this time while gripping his chin and forcing him to look at you.

No. Wrong approach. Violence doesn’t help. But fuck, you need to know what it was.

“Was it K? Ketamine? Chris, did you take Ketamine?” you ask, slowly rubbing his shoulders. Oh, please let it be Ketamine.

He laughs and launches forward, embracing you tightly. “Shush Ma, you’re making me all worried,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. “It’s alright. It will be alright, trust me.”

The pit in your stomach deepens while the machinery in your mind runs at full speed. Racing heartbeat. Emotional closeness. Dizziness maybe? From the way he is swaying, you can tell he is more than a little lightheaded. **

“What do you feel?” you ask him, pulling away a little to look at him. “How are you feeling? Are you disoriented? Drowsy?”

Chris shakes his head, sighing deeply. “Doesn’t matter,” he mutters, his voice getting a slight slurred edge.

“Do you have a headache? Or an increased appetite?”

“No?” His voice is disinterested—he clearly could not care less. Unfortunately, this is all you care about at the moment. Increased body temperature, sweating, slurred speech…

“Chris, did you take MDMA?”

“Mmh…” he says, pulling you close again and peppering kisses to your head. “No, it was a longer name…”

“Ecstasy, Chris.” A slight undertone of desperation lies in your voice. How does he not remember the simplest things? “MDMA is Ecstasy. Did you take it or not?”

“Why does it matter?” he asks, pulling away to look at you. His movements are unpredictable and confused—clearly, he does not see the way you do right now. Even if just through his energy. “Come on, let’s go back inside and have fun. Dance with me, pretty girl, yeah?”

He grabs your hands, but you refuse. “You can’t go back in there,” you say sternly.

“But the party isn’t over,” he complains. “I still gotta dance… and deal.”

“You can’t. Deal, I mean.” A lump forms in your throat at the confused look he shoots at you through half-lidded eyes.

“What? Sure I can! Look, I still have-” The second he pulls out a small bottle of pills, you snatch it out of his hand. And you were right—it’s X, MDMA, clarity, whatever you want to call it.

“Chris you have to stop dealing.”

“I know you’re always worried about me, Ma,” he says with a sloppy grin. “But you know I have everything under control. No one’s going to get too dangerous.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you sigh, stepping closer. “Chris, you have to stop dealing. You broke rule number one. You have a practically infinite supply of drugs, and you just started taking them. What do you think is happening now?”

He frowns, clearly having difficulties concentrating. Fuck, how long does Ecstasy last? You go through your memory, trying to find anything about it. From one up to… was it five? Six hours? Fuck.

“We’re going,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room you searched for shelter from the party.

The second you step outside, into the main area, the music clogs up your ears. Smoke burns in your lungs, mixed with the smells of alcohol and sweat. You’ve never been a fan of parties like this, but you came with Chris more and more often, wanting to look out for him—even though you wouldn’t be able to do anything in an extreme case.

But today, you’re infinitely grateful for having come with him. Who else would force him to go home and not take another pill? His brothers don’t even know what’s going on behind the scenes, he’s taken care of that.

Back at your car, you force him into the passenger seat. Now looking at him, restlessly playing with the decoration on your glovebox, you’re almost relieved he did it. Just because it means he has to stop dealing. As soon as he’s sober, he’ll realise that too.

After getting into the driver’s seat, you lock the doors and reach out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh?” he asks, pulling out his iPhone.

“Not that one. The burner one.”

Frowning deeply, he crosses his arms. “No.”

“Yes. Chris, do it.”

“No way. That’s the only contact I have with customers and the supplier,” he protests.

“Exactly. Hand it over, I’m not asking you again.” Your fingers move twice in your direction, a sign everyone knows. Come on, you think, don’t make this more complicated.

“A’ight,” he mutters, pulling it out of his back pocket and going back to fiddling with something he found in your car. You couldn’t care less what it is.

“Good,” you mutter, quickly chucking the phone into the backseat from where you’ll pick it up later. For now, you need to get Chris home.

The drive back is silent, except for when he occasionally starts humming a melody and then abruptly stops, grinding his teeth.

“Don’t do that,” you mutter, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

“Stop telling me what to do,” he replies, staring ahead like a pouty kid. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” you scoff, a wave of anger bubbling up in your chest.

How could he be so careless? How could he possibly have thought that taking drugs as a goddamn drug dealer is okay? That it works? He knows the dangers of every drug. He’s seen people get completely wasted, slowly destroying their lives and the ones of the people around them.

Why would he do this to you? To his brothers? His friends and family?

Tears are burning in your eyes and you blink rapidly to focus your gaze on the street.

“Ma? ‘re you crying?” Chris asks. His voice is softer but clearly slurred now. The drug seems to be kicking in.

You open your mouth to say something, but not a single sound escapes your lips.

“Why are you crying, love?” he whispers.

“Why would you do that?” you finally ask. “You know drugs. You know what they do. You know they destroy lives. Fuck, Chris, what’s going on? Why did you take it?”

The car is silent, and nervosity settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Chris…?” you ask again. “Why did you take it?”

“I js wanted to try,” he mumbles. It’s clearly not the only answer, but now is not the time to figure out what exactly led him to be so stupid.

After stopping the car in front of your house—you won’t let Nick and Matt see him in this state—, you force Chris outside, into the cool air. He doesn’t react, even as you start shivering. You quickly fetch the burner phone from the backseat and lead Chris inside, pushing him through the front door and to the couch. He seems restless and refuses to sit down, so you let him wander around.

While he’s still in his drug-induced haze, you sit down at the kitchen island and open the flip phone. The first number is his suppliers’, you know that, saved simply as G. It rings only once before he picks it up.

“You run out this quickly?” he asks. No greeting, no nothing.

“No,” you reply. The tension is palpable, even through the phone.

“Who are you?” G asks cautiously.

“You will not supply C anymore,” you say, careful not to use Chris’s name. “Do you understand me?”

“Tell me who you are and I’ll consider,” he repeats.

“That’s none of your business. If you sell to Chris-” Fuck, fuck fuck. “If you sell to him again, I will find out and send the police after you.”

The guy chuckles. “Easy. I’m sure we can talk about this. You his girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, running a hand over your face.

“You worried about him or something?”

“Obviously,” you scoff. “I don’t want him to become an addict. That’s normal, I fear.”

“He wouldn’t. I’ve been supplying to him for a while, he does it for the money, not the drugs,” G says, apparently unimpressed. “Just stay out of his business, yeah? This is no place for little girls.”

“You listen to me, you little fuck,” you hiss, jumping up from the chair. “I know who you are and from where you supply. I know the faces of all the little dealers around here, and they’re all connected to you. I know what parties you go to, and what people you know. I’ve seen you. And I will get you if you deal with my boyfriend again. He took Ecstasy today. And trust me, I know what happens next. I’ve seen it happen. So if one of us ever hears from you again, you will be caught, I promise.”

A stunned silence fills the phone. The only sounds you hear is the clock on the kitchen wall ticking… and heavy breathing behind you.

You whip your head around. Chris stares at you with confused eyes. He reaches out for the phone, but his movements are too uncoordinated, and you dodge his hand.

“Is that G?” he asks, slurring his words more than before. “Why would you- what are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t go down that path,” you say sternly.

Since you have no more to say to G, and you don’t care to hear his answer, you hang up the phone and guide Chris upstairs, leaving the burner phone on the kitchen counter.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“But ‘m not tired,” he protests, still energised from the Ecstasy.

This is going to be a long night.

masterlist

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thatdisasterauthor · 2 days ago

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I do indeed have much I can say on all of this! I don’t have time for a full breakdown, but let’s hit some key points.

🌪The Milton evacuation and changing the direction highways.

This is called “contraflow” and it is indeed a thing that is frequently used in evacuations. However, from what I understand, Florida might have laws against this? At least that’s what I’ve heard, or maybe just laws that do indeed make it very difficult. I haven’t had a chance to look into it too closely. And it is a tricky thing to do safely just off the cuff without a known procedure in place, which you wouldn’t have if it’s against the law in your area. You’ve gotta shut down all the exits/entrances accordingly so you don’t have issues with head-on traffic, you’ve gotta make sure you have effective alternate routes for emergency traffic, you’ve gotta have a space to reintegrate traffic into the proper lanes once the contraflow segment has ended, etc. etc.

You’re right that this isn’t a police problem, it’s a LAW problem. Maybe also a police problem in the sense of what trainings are available to them, what procedures they have in these situations, etc., but not an ACAB style police problem. Plenty of places DO use it, like I said. (Also, sometimes you’ll get spontaneous contraflow, where people just start doing on their own, but that’s a whole different can of worms.)

🚗 Over dependence on cars.

America is indeed super car dependent, but that’s not exactly the issue here, at least not in the way you’d think. First off, evacuations are just HARD. That’s a lot of people to move. Even if you took every large transport vehicle in a given area (so all the buses of any sort, any trains, any planes), you’re not going to get the entire population moved out in a timely manner, even if every seat is taken. It just isn’t feasible for so many reasons. People DO need to be able to evacuate via car. It’s also very dependent on the disaster in question. An evacuation for a hurricane is very different than most other evacuations due to the amount of time you, usually, have.

Now, one thing that happens and causes problems during evacuations is that people take ALL their cars instead of just one. Mom takes one car with the kids and as much stuff as possible stuffed in the back, and Dad takes his truck with the dogs and the bed piled high. A lot of evacuation planning doesn’t account for this. They see a four person family and think, “ah yes, the family sedan has six seats, they’ll just take that and go, we don’t need to plan for them to put both their cars on the road and at all the gas stations along the way.” But then they do take both cars, and so does every other family on the road, and suddenly you’ve got a shit ton more cars doing something that you expected a lot less cars to be doing. I have a lot more thoughts on this I can share later, if people are interested, but for now we shall move on.

(There’s also definitely an element of poor city planning and infrastructure in some places, but that’s very much a case by case thing.)

👩🏻‍🚒 We need a better emergency management system.

Yes! Though, actually, we already have a pretty good one as compared to other countries. Not great, by any means, but something like FEMA is pretty rare. Most countries just kind of ad hoc disaster response on a case by case basis, which is also what we did until we created FEMA in the 70s.

I have A LOT of thoughts about how we could improve the system as it currently stands, which is a big part of why I want to do a PhD in emergency management.

🔥 When to evacuate.

You mentioned this in relation to the Camp Fire, and that one is…yeah, that one was so bad. There’s a lot that goes into making evacuation decisions, and unfortunately studies have shown that a lot of emergency officials still believe the myth that people will panic if you give them too much information about a disaster. This leads to delays in evacuations, among other things. Also, evacuations are expensive, and that makes officials hold back. Plus, there’s the “cried wolf” effect where if it turns out the evacuation WASN’T needed, the next time it IS needed, people will be less likely to go, which again makes officials hold back.

With the Camp Fire, though, I don’t know if any of that specifically was what was at play. That thing just moved FAST. Also, this was a small mountain town. There were not a lot of ways out, just thin mountain roads. I guarantee those officials who made the evacuation call hesitated because they knew people WOULD get stuck on the few potential roads to safety. They weren’t making a choice about evacuation, they were making a choice on where they wanted people to be when the fire DID hit. Because it was going to hit. So do they concentrate people all in one spot, on a road that itself won’t burn but will be completely surrounded, or do they keep people spaced out all over town hoping that pockets of it might be safe? And they had to make that decision at the drop of a hat, knowing people were likely to die either way.

Fires are, in my opinion, the most terrifying thing to have to manage an evacuation for. They are both incredibly quick, but also potentially long lasting. They can shift direction at a moment’s notice. They can do things you never knew they could do. They can consume absolutely massive areas. They can die down and pop back up when you least expect it. And to be the person making the decision on how to handle that must be a very, very heavy weight.

👋🏻 People in positions of power just waving their hands.

Some do, some don’t. There are so, so many amazing people out there who care about this stuff and are doing their best to address these issues. But they need support. Taking over the department of transportation isn’t the answer, your local emergency management department is. Check out what their emergency plans look like, they should be on your county and state websites. Read through them, find the holes, go to meetings, contact your representatives. Be a nuisance to Congress RIGHT NOW.

🎓 Disaster education

Lastly, to @kyraneko’s point about needing better disaster education, yes! Yes we do! I think one of FEMA’s weakest points is its lack of addressing and helping individuals directly prior to a disaster, rather than in large groups. I’m working on it. Got a big project in the works that will, hopefully, start addressing this issue. And that’s not including the PhD.

Sooooooo….yeah! :D That ended up a lot longer than I thought, lol. Hope some of it was interesting to those of you who have made it to the end.

So I have a friend from high school who is a cop. (Yes, I KNOW.) I shared a photo on Facebook of a packed highway of people attempting to evacuate from Hurricane Milton, all while the lanes going in the opposite direction were open and empty. And my Facebook post was basically me screaming, “Open the other side of the highway and reverse it so that people can GET OUT.”

His response was essentially, “Yeah, that is *really* difficult for us to do.” Not in a condescending way, because he genuinely isn’t a huge asshole. (Yes, I KNOW.)

And then I may have vented in my response, in which I tried not to imply that the police were a problem. Because to be honest, I don’t see this as a police problem. I see this as how we have fucked ourselves as a nation by making ourselves so dependent on cars.

There is that poll on this site – or multiple polls, at this point – asking how long people can tolerate being in their cars. And the thing is, Americans (and Canadians as well, I am imagining) have almost no other options. We have to be used to spending a good 12 hours in a car without breaking a sweat. Everything in this country is built around being in a car. There’s a reason when you ask us how far away a place is from somewhere else, we normally give that distance in hours and not miles.

Air travel sucks. It sucks for a multitude of reasons – cost, the hassle of dealing with security, the time suck, etc. – and in an emergency, only a select few are going to be able to use it to get away from a hurricane. And that’s one of the few disasters where air travel is an optional escape.

Train travel sucks. Amtrak is not something you’re gonna be complaining about if you’re trying to get away from whatever disaster you need to evacuate from. But next to so many other countries, Amtrak looks like we’ve been receiving other countries’s leftover railway systems from the 70s. It also doesn’t go everywhere. I live in northeastern Pennsylvania near Scranton, which prides itself on its history in the train industry. We have a museum and everything. We have multiple things named after that museum, including the Steamtown marathon which is happening tomorrow.

Can you get on a passenger train in Scranton? Nope.

(The main argument against this always seems to be that people will come here from New York City and commit crimes, which is hilarious considering if somebody wanted to come here from New York City and commit crimes it’s only a 2.5-hour drive.)

Anyway, disasters.

If the only option you’re gonna give most people to get out of areas of Florida that are being targeted by hurricanes or areas of California that suffer from wildfires or places in the Midwest that face flooding are cars, then we need a better fucking emergency management system regarding transportation in this country. You can’t just sit there and mock people for not evacuating because they can’t or won’t when getting away from Milton meant sitting on highway for hours with absolutely no gas stations whatsoever nearby having any gas at all. (It just makes me think of those photos of people stranded on the highway in their cars in blizzards where people are like, “Now imagine imagine how bad it would be if all of those cars were electric!“ Well, all of those cars in that photo in that blizzard run on gas and they’re fucking stranded, sooooooo.)

Look, we can change the transportation system in this country. we did it before and we can do it again. We used to have more train options, fewer highways. My small hometown had a fucking trolley in the 40s. Now, if you don’t have a car here, you’re stuck. You can’t even get Uber here. if a wildfire started here and surrounded the town, it would be a clusterfuck.

Regardless of how you feel about the police, if police and fire departments in this country cannot organize an evacuation on a highway in a way that will reduce the backup so that tens of thousands of people aren’t sitting in their cars when a hurricane hits, that’s a problem – not just for those people, but for the police, and the fire department, and emergency management in general.

The people in charge of emergency management are just people, just human. I’m researching the Camp Fire in 2018 right now, and you had a bunch of people calling 911 saying, “I can see a huge fire off to the east. Are we safe? Should we evacuate?” The 911 operators could only work off the information they had. They could have told people to evacuate earlier, but Cal Fire didn’t anticipate the strength of the fire. Which is understandable. Nobody could anticipate the strength of that fire. But the 911 operators were sitting in an office with no windows, and they had no idea what was going on the east. They couldn’t look out and see exactly what was happening. If they could have, they probably would have told people to leave as soon as possible much sooner than they were told to. Instead, they waited for official confirmation, and when they did start telling people to evacuate, traffic managed to back up in a small town of 25,000 people until many of them were trapped in an unimaginable hellscape.

When people need to evacuate from a disaster, and they stay instead, far too many people - including those in positions of power – just kind of wave their hands and say, “Well, we tried.” No, we didn’t. This country made not trying its watchword, and now we’re at a point where unless you own a car, which is a luxury a lot of people cannot afford in this economy, escaping from disaster is impossible. So you can get in your car or somebody else’s car and go sit on a highway and hope your gas doesn’t run out, since none of the gas stations for 100 miles have any gas to give you, or you can stay in your house and hope you don’t die.

Sometimes, I really wish somebody would make me the head of the department of transportation. I would demand an absurd amount of money to build a better train system, to provide better transportation options for smaller towns, to provide extensive training for rescue personnel in managing evacuations like the clusterfuck in Florida this week. I would become an absolute fucking nuisance to Congress. I would be asking for money left and right to make it so that our only options as Americans weren’t to get into cars we can barely afford these days and attempt to organize our own evacuations from the growing number of natural disasters in this country.

Y’all keep posting these polls about how long you can tolerate being in a car at the same time that tens of thousands of Floridians were sitting on highways trying to get away from Tampa so they wouldn’t die in a hurricane.

We can tolerate being in a car all goddamn day. It’s because we don’t have a fucking choice, even when it’s life or death.

#Emergency Management #Evacuation #Natural Disaster #Wildfire #Hurricane

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silverskyeline · 3 days ago

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ੈ♡˳ 'birthday cake' - logan howlett x wade wilson

summary: logan buys wade a cake for his birthday and tries to convince himself it doesn't mean anything. (900 words) tags: kinda fluffy, kinda angsty, set a year after the movie, references to losing the x-men, feelings realisation, animal metaphors for logan, cussing, logan x wade. a/n: happy birthday deadpool!

birthdays. running a calloused hand across his stubbled jaw, logan eyes the cakes in the bakery aisle with disgust. when's the last time he celebrated a birthday? not since. . .

well.

not since.

he's not sure why he's here. except he is. yet he won't admit it. can't admit he gives a damn about that stupid red leather-wearing freak. isn't that what he's doing right now, though? a birthday cake, an admission of sorts?

logan grumbles, a deep rumble in the back of his throat. why was this so hard? why couldn't he just pick up a cake and go? or better yet, forget about this whole damn thing and go home?

home.

a word that still feels so foreign in his mind, a long-lost concept that's only recently begun to take root again despite his best efforts to weed it out. that's the thing with wade, he's persistent. fuck, he's extremely fucking persistent to a highly annoying degree. but it's funny how the things we want to deny the most are the things that turn out to be the best for us in the end.

there's a unicorn cake that catches his eye. an imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of logan's lips, a reluctant grin quirking up without permission. he can't help it. "god damn it," he mutters, letting out a soft exhale that could possibly be perceived as a laugh.

it isn't too late. he could back out now, snuff the candles out and toss the cake so hard into the garbage can that it explodes on impact, leaving no evidence behind. that'd probably be the best thing to do. because what the fuck was this?

the unicorn cake sits on the dining room table, a few candles placed carefully (yet still somehow messily) into the pink icing, thoughtfully avoiding the unicorn decorations and rainbows.

logan shuffles nervously on his feet, hands clasped behind his back. he can already hear wade's annoying squealing in his ear, fussing and yelling and talking and just always fucking talking.

he'd made a deliberate effort to ignore all of wade's incessant reminders, 'it's my birthday month peanut, gotta be nice to me', 'i made sure to cancel everything on your very empty calendar for my birthday'. but in reality, logan had it memorised from the moment he learned the date.

a key enters the door, and logan stiffens up, then forces himself to relax in an attempt to look nonchalant. he looks anything but, head tilted down with dark eyes glued to the door - watching, waiting, anticipating.

"holy fuck balls that traffic is ridiculous!" wade whines, closing the door and rolling his neck as though he'd been worked to the bone, "i swear, it's like none of those careless fuckers know it's my birthday - can you believe that? i was thinking about getting a tattoo, the date on my forehead, y'know, so that when anyone asks they-"

wade stops, finally looking into the open room, eyes landing on the flicker of the candles. then to logan, eyes softening. "you. . . got me a cake?" wade whispers in the softest tone logan's ever heard from him, voice thick with emotion. it hits him unexpectedly.

logan puffs his chest out, "don't make a big deal outta it, bub." he says firmly, eyes straying from wade's gaze. feels like his eyes are boring into him, he doesn't like it. doesn't like the way wade looks at him, really looks at him. that kinda look is dangerous, could make a man believe he deserves to be forgiven for all he did or didn't do. could make a man believe that he's allowed happiness, however strange or unusual that source of happiness may be.

when logan's eyes trail back to meet wade's, he's already in front of him, arms wrapping around him in a tight hug as he rests his cheek against his broad chest. logan huffs, making a sound of disapproval initially, yet makes no effort to move or push him away. instead, he settles, allowing it.

he knows wade must hear his heartbeat, the fact that it's fluttering in his chest. but wade only squeezes his arms around him tighter in response.

for once, the merc with a mouth is silent, basking in this moment the other has allowed. he's almost in disbelief. to some, and hell, maybe even logan himself, it looked like. . . well, just a cake.

but it symbolised so much more than that.

if wade has had his hand outstretched all this time, approaching the skittish animal threatening to lash out in learned survival instincts - then this is the gentle nudge from the animal's snout into his palm. a curious, tentative step forward. a willingness to let someone in, let someone help.

and god, wade won't mess this up, won't disappoint, despite the fact that it's all he thought he was good for, for a long ass time. if logan's taught him anything, it's that life is so much more than what you boil yourself down to. it's what others see in you, too.

wade's eyes pop open when he feels logan's firm hands hesitantly rest upon his back, giving a gentle pat. he bites his tongue, a mirage of sex jokes slinging through his filth-riddled mind. perhaps in a way, that was his own defense mechanism, push him away with just enough jokes to keep him guessing.

but not today.

because today logan bought him a cake. the same day that logan realised that he's hopelessly, ridiculously, disgustingly, annoyingly. . . in love.

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punkkture · 1 day ago

Note

Hi!! I love ur blog btw, it’s so cute ❦ Could you please write something about how Price would react coming home and seeing you all dolled up in a brand new set of lingerie just for him? Thank you. ݁𝜗𝜚.

- 🦢

eeek youre so sweet ily hunny pie - always love a good dose of hubby price

price has been and always will be infatuated with you. youre the sole thing that reminds him of home. youre the constant reminder in his head when hes away that he has heaven waiting for him at home. hes gotta make it back safe, just for you. john is the perfect, cookie cutter, idea of a man you had dreamed about growing up. he showers you in gifts and soft kisses and hands that never grip too tight; teeth that know just the right gentleness when they nip at your neck. it was about time you gave him the same amount of cherish. of course you always made sure he had a warm plate of food and a glass of hard liquor ready when he came home but he deserved more . . .

you kissed his cheek sweetly once you had gotten up from the table. grabbing his empty plate from infront of his frame. “so sweet on me, honey” john smiles as you kiss him. patting his chest as you started to clean up the table from the dishes, “go take a shower and get comfy, i’ll clean this up for you” you smiled to him. he couldn’t help but listen to the missus. warm and calloused palms rested on your waist as he kissed your neck and then temple as he ran his hands up your sides. “mmkay sweets, ill be back down soon.”

and the second you heard that water starting to run upstairs, you shoved the dishes into the sink and went into the bedroom, trying to contain your own excitement. of course you used his money for everything, he wanted you to, but you felt like such a smart girl taking cash out of the atm so he couldnt see the bank statements for the stores you went to. the fabric looked to intricate against your skin. it made you look like some porcelain doll, an ancient and ethereal painting that was hung up in heaven. sheer white fabric with soft pink lace tracing the edges of the bralette that fit snuggly around your chest. pulling up the panties that were the same fabric, he liked it when you looked pretty. not all slutted out, you were a fragile and delicate thing, you had to be dressed and treated as such.

the last touch you knew he would just melt for was those pretty white stockings that went up a little past your knees. the little frills roping around your plush thighs and the pretty silk bows on the back just looked so angelic when you would bend over. your cheeks were red with excitement at the thought of him reacting to you like this. you had never surprised him with something like this in a while. he deserved a treat. he deserved to see you laid out for him, just begging him to finally let go and release all of those tumultuous moments he experienced when away on deployment. now, he could take control without having to follow any restrictions and regulations.

hearing the shower water turn off, you got comfy across the fluffy bedding, like you were presenting for him. “john!” you softly called out to the en-suite bathroom, he had assumed you were still downstairs cleaning up dinner, not in the bedroom. “what is it honey?” he called back to you thorough the door. “i need your help with somethin’”

and of course, as if his life depended on it he wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the bedroom door, ready to help. but when he saw you sweetly laying on the bed for him all dolled up like some angel that had crashed down, he thought he had died and been sent to heaven. this was a blessing. an audible groan left his lips, there was a sense of yearning in his eyes as his brows furrowed a little and he walked out towards you. “what’s all this?” he asked as his fingers fluttered across your skin. you looked up at him so sweetly as you explained how he deserved treats too. he smiled gently as he leaned down to shower your pretty face in warm kisses.

it was only ten minutes later and his cock was practically leaking for you. your soft and nimble fingers reached out for him. it was very rarely he would let you get down on your knees for him, but seeing those big doe eyes look up at him with those gentle pleads leaving your mouth, he couldnt say no. price’s thick fingers brushed through your hair in the most soothing way, like you were his sweet pet. you held his heavy cock in your palms, adjusting on your knees before kissing on the tip sweetly. a string of his pre-cum stuck to your lips when you pulled back. “god . . sweetie youre killin’ me right now” he groaned softly looking down at you.

you almost wished you would’ve caved when he tried to tell you he didnt need you to blow him . . . he would shove your face flush with his abdomen, forcing you all the way down. it would cut off your air flow and get you to swallow around him even when he was deep in your throat. his grip on your hair was now tight and he was using both hands, fucking your mouth onto him with a force that showcased he was releasing all that tension. god you were so sweet to him. his lips parted for groans and whines and an abundance of praises. “my sweet baby,” - “takin’ me so well” - “youre so precious honey” were the ones you could make out.

eyes red and teary from the pressure in your throat and your airway being cut off, looking up at him as your eyelashes fluttered. his cock sheathed fully into your throat as he came down inside you. ensuring you would swallow it since it was already halfway down. he pulled you off of his sopping wet cock and a harsh gag left your puffy lips. your chin, neck, chest, and pretty new bralette were covered in spit and pre-cum from him using your mouth.

john would pull you up from the floor, kissing you harshly and pulling your pretty panties to the side as you settled on his lap, getting ready for more.

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shininginyourlight · 2 days ago

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"Let's do it, then." Kaito stood, attempting to sound more sure of himself than he really was. All he could hope was that Yagami was a little more calm than how he'd been before he'd fallen asleep. He just wasn't sure how he could handle a combative Yagami right now.

When was he the guy to back down when his friend needed him, though?

"Just keep an ear out, yeah? Gonna keep my voice down, so I don't make Tak's head hurt worse," he'd warn Sugiura as he turned.

Kaito made his way back toward the bedroom. For a moment, he just stopped to listen. No sign of anything, from what he could hear. Still asleep. He opened the door carefully, letting only a bit of light in as he peeked inside.

From where he stood, all he saw was the back of Yagami's head. Curled up in the bed he'd been sharing with Sugiura for weeks now. Quietly as he could manage, he stepped forward and kept the door to the room open just a smidge. Enough for Kaito to have a little bit of light to see.

"Tak... gotta wake up, man," Kaito's voice was low, more gentle than most would ever get the privilege of hearing.

From the other side of the door, Kaito's voice was muffled. His words weren't totally clear, but audible if one listened hard enough.

"...it...stay laying... head hurt?" A lull. Whatever was being saying in response was too quiet to be heard through the door.

"...dinner for us. Think... eat some?"

More quiet, only for that quiet to this time be broken by muted, broken cries from Yagami. What words he spoke were incomprehensible.

"...for you, Tak."

With more weepy, incoherent words spoken, Kaito's voice was suddenly a touch more clear.

"Sugiura?"

Ultimately, all either of them could do was be there should they be needed and try their best to make sure Yagami never felt particularly alone. They would help one another through it all, even in the smallest ways, and that would simply have to be enough.

Sugiura finished cooking, made sure Kaito had plenty to eat, that everything was ready to go and mentally could the youth make notes on what to buy and how much - - it was easier now he knew, in truth- and perhaps just cooking nice meals would be enough of a help in some aspects because sometimes... sometimes a home cooked meal did make things feel a little bit better.

"Absolutely." As he had vowed earlier, he wouldn't leave Kaito to deal with it by himself. He takes a moment to quickly tidy up, making sure Yagami's food is covered and there for when it is wanted before he heads back to Kaito and gives a determined nod. "I'll be just outside the door if you need me."

#v; i can't just lie to you like this #captianimarum #a warmth in this chilling isolation { yagami interactions }#long post cw

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heeambi · 17 hours ago

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ꞌꞋ ࣪ _ Matured Love ✿ . ꒱

pairings . ꒱ jake’s bsf jungwon x Older sister

Contains . ꒱ Sexual Fantasy . Explicit Content . Sexual Tension . Mature themes . Erotica . Smut . Sexual Imagery . Explict Language

count . 4.1k

. ꒱ . ( I think I might be missing some that it contains, but I'm so tired right now, so if I missed one, please don't mind it. )

He had always considered his best friend’s aka Jake’s older sister as someone unattainable, she was more older, matured, and had such confidence that made her seem out of his league. But, as he spent more time with her, jungwon started to see beneath the surface, slowly falling in love with her warmth, intelligence, and kindness. He tried to deny these feelings straight away, believing it to be a very impossible love, he hopes that maybe, just maybe, you guys could be more than just friends.

He became more and more aware of his feelings.. He finds himself constantly seeking her company. Whether it's a casual hangout or a group activity, he makes sure to be there, always so secretly stealing glances at you, appreciating your smile and the way that you speaks. He then begins to notice the small details about you, the way that your eyes lit up when you laugh, the way your hair falls across your face, the smell of your sweet perfume. He's so utterly smitten.

But as the time goes on, his feelings for you only grew stronger for you. He's always thinking about you when he's alone, wondering what you're doing at all times, wishing he could spend time with you. He even dreams about you (ALOT), wondering what it could be like if he was able to hold you or even kiss your lips.

His mind began to wander, The mere thought of them drove him wild, and he would feel against your soft skin or what they would do if he had a chance to taste them. His thoughts were quickly turned into erotic fantasies, and he couldn't even dent the stirring in his lower region at the mere thought of her mouth, specifically wrapped right around his….cock

As his fantasies had consumed him, Jungwon just couldn't resist letting put soft moans, his hand casually drifting towards his grown bulge in his jeans. He imagined your soft plumped lips, those so very enchanting red curves, trailing teasingly and slowly down his chest. reaching his abdomen before reaching their destination.

oh, but the thought of your mouth enveloping his throbbing painful length, the warm wetness and gentle suction as you would suck him off, was almost too much for him to handle. He bit his lip, trying to stifle his moans, as his fingers fumbled with the zipper to his jeans.

Finally freeing his hard cock, he stroked it slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as he began to lose himself in the vivid fantasty. He pictured your smaller frame looking up at him with those captivating eyes, your tongue darting out to lick his tip before you took him deep into your hot, eagered mouth.

His breathing grew heavier as he pleasured himself, his hips rocking them slightly. He imagined burying his hands in your hair, guiding your movements gently as you bobbed up and down his shaft. The wet sounds of this fantasy blowjob filled his ears.

Jungwon was approaching his peak, the fantasy shifted suddenly. Instead of your mouth, he pictured plunging his cock deep into your tight, wet pussy. The way he had imagined it sent him over the edge, he soon came hard, spurting thick ropes of his cum onto his abdomen and chest.

Just as he was coming down from his climax, he heard a knock on the guest bedroom door. “Hey, wonie, can I come in? I gotta ask you smth!” Jungwon, startled, quickly covered himself with a pillow and called out slightly embarrassed, “Um, j-just a minute! I'm, uh, CHANGING!!”

You raised a brow suspiciously “oh, okay…. Hurry up alright? I don't got all day.” he hastily pulled up his pants and zipped his pants zipper. Making sure to keep the pillow strategically placed in his lap. He then took a deep breath and called out, “Okay!!! You can come in now!”

Y/n had now entered the room, immediately noticing the slight sweat on the younger males face and the nervous look in his eyes. “Uhm, you okay there?” once again raising her brow at him “you look flustered.” He tried to hide his embarrassment, just laughing it off, “oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine! Just a little hot in here, that's all.. What did you need to ask me?”

“Just that I wanted to ask if you could help me move some boxes tomorrow. But seeing how “hot” you are, maybe i’ll ask someone else instead…” Jungwon, still very nervous, quickly responded, “what? No, no! I can't help! I was just…. Working out. That's why I'm so sweaty!! I’ll help you with the boxes, no problem”

Y/n was still not completely convinced, but accepting his answer “Mmm, Alright, if you're sure.. Mett me at my place tomorrow morning then. And do not be late!” Jungwon nodded weakly, silently praying that you hadn't seen or guessed what he had really been doing a few moments ago.. But as you reach the door, you turned back to him.

“Oh, and by the way, you might want to do a better job at bidding your.….erm, workout equipment, next door.” his heart skipped a beat as you gave him a knowing smirk before leaving the room. He immediately looked down at the pillow in his lap, now realizing there was a very obvious stain on it. He groaned embarrassingly, burying his face in his hands.

Creds go to @cafekitsune for the dividers !!

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hybridhideoutstory · 2 days ago

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CHAPTER 2

Payton could feel themself shifting in their bed, stirring and tossing around. “Woah” they thought in their groggy state. “That was one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had in my life.” They heard knocking on their bedroom door.

“Oh my gosh.” Payton thought “it’s Sunday. I gotta get ready to see my grandparents. They got up and rushed to the door. “I can’t wait to see grandma and grandpa, wonder what sweets and treasures they have for me this week.” They opened the door and low and behold,

It was Omf, they Young Adult novel hybrid

“Good morning Pay Pay! :] ready for the-“

They slammed the door in his face.

They rushed to their bed and grabbed the orange stained pillow from last night’s sobbing session, then promptly screamed bloody murder into it. Of course! This stupid dream was real it was all real! There’s no escape from Lizard boy and his crazy Hybrid shenanigans. They walked back to the door and opened it again to see that Omf was still standing in the doorway as cheery as the when the door was served to him.

He cleared his throat, “Good morning Pay Pay! :] ready for the tour?”

“I’m ready to kill myself right about now…”

“NOOO!!! :[! No no no! Look I know this is hard for you but the hideout is gonna be great alright??? You’re gonna be okay a promise!” He peered into Payton’s room and saw a gift basket sitting on their nightstand. He walked in and held it up

“Look! You got some goodies! Isn’t that fun? ,:]”

“I did not say you could enter my room.”

He sat on the ledge of the bed and invited Payton the sit with him. “It’s just a smart idea to have someone who knows things help you go through this, there could be important stuff I here!” He started shuffling through the basket wondering what Payton was given.

Payton protested. “Hey that’s my new stuff!”

“I’m just checking if something is in here. Aha! Yes I found it!” He held out a pamphlet that looked like an advert for a children’s story time at the local library. It was all cutesy with bright colors and “How to Care for Me! A Hybrids’s care book!” Written in rainbow comic sans.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Payton reluctantly flipped through the pages, which had random care facts that seemed to be answered by someone writing in a pink glitter pen. For example, the pamphlet would ask, “And to eat my hybrid needs…” and Pink Pen would reply with, “No food, No water, Nothing except for paint, if the hybrid loses too much paint the poor thing dies. Just make sure it eats Acrylic and drinks some watercolor so it can be healthy.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Hey >:[!”

Payton flipped through even more, each page felt more dehumanizing Than the next, Payton wasn’t vibing with the way Pink Pen referred to them as an “it”.

“For fun my hybrid can do…” “NO WATER!!!! Water will KILL it when the water distills in the paint. Absolutely NO water unless it’s mixed in with watercolor paint. No swimming!!!”

Payton was on the verge of orange tears again, no swimming, no normal showers, they couldn’t even eat their favorite foods anymore! Omf was constantly over their shoulder trying to absorb the information from the pamphlet.

“Hey!” He rummaged through Payton’s gifts again. “Whoever sent you all this gave you some paints! If your hungry that is.”

“You know what?” Payton said trembling. “Fine! You know my life basically screwed now anyway!” Orange started to bead from their eyes. “Might as well drink this, whatever the hell harvest red color is! That’s just what freaks like me need to stay alive haha…!” They uncapped the paint and brought it up to their mouth and started eating.

Surprisingly, the paint didn’t taste like anything chemical or the sorts. It tasted like crisp apples and cherries, it was delicious.

“Holy… what the…”

“What’s wrong?” Omf asked

“Nothing it just- tastes good?”

“Ooo lemme try! :]” Omf Without thinking took Payton precious food and took a swig. He quickly spit is out just as fast as he chugged it.

“It just tastes like paint!” He cried as he coughed as spat the paint all over Payton’s bed.

“Ew stop that! Not on my bed! Stop gaging all over my goddamn bed!”

“I’m sorry :[“ He said. “I’ll just be outside. When your ready for the tour just come outside. He then left Payton alone in their room.

Payton was left to contemplate more things in their room. Now they wish that had swam in their local pool more often, because they couldn’t do that anymore. Also, why did that paint taste like a delicious combination of fresh red fruit? Does all paint taste like that? Or does the flavor change with each color? They didn’t want to think about any of this at the moment, it was hurting their head. They figured it was best to distract themself from their misfortune.

Payton opened the door. “Okay Lizard boy” they said as if the first Thirty minutes of the day had exhausted them. “What are you going to show me first?”

Omf perked up, wagging his tail. “O O I CAN SHOW YOU THE ARCADE :]>!!!” He grabbed Payton by the blue hand and sprinted with them to the elevator. “WOAH!” Payton shouted. “SLOW DOWN!”

Omf practically slammed the poor kid into the elevator wall and clicked one of the big red buttons. The label next to this one saying “arcade”. The two descended, or ascended? Payton couldn’t tell.

The door dinged at they were in a maze of mechanical marvels. Tons of games and machines of the sort lit up the room. Payton felt they they were in the Dave n Busters headquarters. “Pretty OMFTASTIC huh?” Said omftastic Omf. The two wandered along in the neon paradise for a bit. Payton noticed other kids playing around in the arcade.

“Who are these kids?” Asked Payton.

“They’re other hybrids of course silly! Not all hybrids look as hybrid as you y’know. Though most of these guys must be video game hybrids, there’s been a spike of those lately from what I’ve heard.”

“Woah.” Payton paused. “There can be more than one hybrid of something?”

“Yeah pretty much.” Omf said. “Human teens are more susceptible to certain demigod possessions. Also kinda depends on the demigod too y’know. Like for example, I don’t think the one that got you is very fond of hybrids. That explains why your the only one of your kind.”

“Wow. I feel so special.” Payton said sarcastically.

“Hey don’t be like that…we still don’t know what your fully capable of.”

Payton scoffed. “What could paint to anyway? Make whatever I paint come to life?”

“Hmmm” Omf scratched his beard, or what can barely be considered a beard. “That sounds possible, but not really effective in combat.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Suddenly a kid popped up from behind Payton and tried to whack the living color out of them with a cheap plastic sword that was so amazing that the green light started to die.

“Hey!” Omf shouted. “What is wrong with you? >:[!”

“Level up!” Said the kid before he ran off he spoke like he was trapped in a PlayStation 1, but other than that he damn near looked exactly human.

Payton got up grasping their head. “God… what, what was that.”

“You just got hit in the head by one of the kids.”

“Oh so he thinks he’s hot stuff?” Payton claimed in a daze. “Well what’s his stick gonna do against a gun? God I wish I had a gun.”

“Okay… maybe we should move on to the next part of the tour…” Omf picked Payton up by the shoulders and took them to the elevator.

The elevator dinged. “This is our next stop!” Omf said cheerily. “It’s my favorite:]!” Payton observed that they were in a training Dojo. There were dummies and weapons all over the place. Omf picked up a sword from one of the racks. He sighed dreamily as he looked around and sniffed the air with his lizard nose as if he was on a hiking trip to the great glorious outdoors. “Awesome ain’t it?”

“No” Payton responded flatly.

“>:0! Uh well your gonna be spending a lot of time here Pay Pay, after all, Luna said your gonna be on patrol! Which means you have to train with me! And I’m gonna be the best trainer you’ve ever seen got it?”

“ ‘Kay”

“I- uh oh…” Omf sounded defeated but he didn’t push Payton any further. “Let’s… let’s go somewhere else now.”

When Payton and Omf got off the elevator again, they were In a massive movie theatre. “This is the hideout movie theatre!” Omf exclaimed. “Since hybrids can’t really go out and see the latest stuff, we ask the demigod of cinema to supply us with all the all the latest films. Plus you can basically ask for any movie one night and they’ll play it for you in the theatre. It’s awesome, and all the snacks… are free…. >:].”

Payton was amazed. Now THIS was something they could vibe with. Imagine all the sick film dates they could take Lynn on. Or all the dumb comedies they could watch with their friends. Just how many memories they could make with their friends. Oh right, they could never talk to them again.

“Uh… this is neat I guess. I’ve been meaning to see that new My girlfriend is a goth Vampire movie… I was… gonna watch it with my girlfriend.”

“Oh… :D.” Omf suddenly realized the pain in Payton’s voice. “I’m- so sorry.”

“It’s alright I guess, I suppose you miss your friends and family right?”

“Well- erm, uh…”

Suddenly a bell rung through the through the entire building. A voice on PA system rung out. “Good evening residents of the Hypnos Hideout, United States. As of this moment the cafeteria will be serving lunches. Have a good afternoon.”

“Welp!” Omf said, losing his previous train of thought. “It’s lunch time! Uh- don’t worry I’m sure they’ve made accommodations to the menu for you Pay Pay! Come on let’s go! :D”

When the go to the cafeteria floor, it looked like one of those food courts you’d find in a mall. The room was decked out with star shaped lights, moons and dreamy clouds. It looked more like nap time than lunch time. Teenagers and adults gathered in tables. Some of them looked like normal humans. Except maybe their eyes were an odd color. Some of them had horns, some had tails, some had big feathery wings, some looked like cyborgs. They all varied table by table. It was odd seeing all these people, Payton could feel some glares of the other kids. They passed by a group of what mainly consisted of girls, “O M G, who’s the freak with Mr protagonist over there?” The whole table had kids with small pink horns, some of them had pretty pink wings.

“Don’t listen to them Pay Pay,” Omf said quietly. Those are the drama hybrids, they’ll try to get under your skin. Just try to ignore them. Let’s get you some food. It should be at the accommodations booth.”

They walked up to the booth together. Omf stepped up “Hey um, we were wondering if you had any Paint, for Payton Varro?” The dude behind the counter sighed and reluctantly gave a palette of the six basic colors, and a cup of green watercolor paint. He looked as if the same breed of magic night creature as Luna. Omf got a strawberry treat from another stand.

Payton took some scoops of paint from the pallet with a spoon. None of these were as flavorful as the harvest red they tried that morning and the watercolor paint just tasted like water, but it was doable. The pair wondered the room looking for a place to sit until Payton spotted a round table in a corner.

“Bingo!” they said “let’s sit here to avoid those stupid drama girls, don’t worry this works at school all the time lizard boy, just sit in the corner to get away from whatever bull is going on.”

“Uh… Payton.” Omf said wearily. “I don’t think you should be sitting there…”

“Why not?” They retorted. “No one’s sitting here!”

“Yeah well… she usually sits there. I don’t think that’s a good seat, let’s go somewhere else :[.”

“And be bullied by some pink weirdoes? I’ll pass.”

Suddenly Omf stiffened up. “Payton… Payton she’s right behind you. Get out of there now.”

“Oh what? Is some big ugly monster behind me? Yeah rig-.”

BAM

Someone had hit the table square in the center. The table was completely destroyed and Payton’s food had gotten everywhere. They stumbled and landed on the floor by Omf’s feet.

“WHO YOU CALLEN MONSTER, COLOR GIRL?” Bellowed one of the largest hybrids in the hideout. She stood about six and a half feet tall, she was a large girl, but she was only 15. She had two horns on her head, but one was bent and contorted. She had a large maroon tail, but some of it was wrapped in bandages. She wore a purple leather jacket with spikes on her shoulders, the shirt under it was black with a skull on it. She wore chains around her wrist and neck. Like she was a rabid dog who had to be contained. Her hair was the color of a burning fire. The look In her eyes said, “I’m gonna kill somebody today.”

“HEY >:[!” Omf protested. “Payton is NOT a girl, and they didn’t know you said there Pattie! They’re new! Cut the poor pal some slack!”

Pattie picked payton up by their head as if they were a rag doll. “Look, Dragon guy, I see a punk in my seat, they get kicked out.” She tossed Payton across the cafeteria with full force. All the hybrids saw them flying though the air. Payton hit the wall at full force, and fell to the ground.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” Omf cried out.

“Nothin, kid just looked really throwable.”

Payton groaned on the floor, they had no idea on how none of their bones were broken. They looked over at where Pattie and Omf were standing. They used all the force in their body to stand up.

“Ooo!” Said one of the drama hybrids from the corner of the room. “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Suddenly all the hybrids were calling for a fight. Chanting the word over and over, which gave Pattie an unnecessary strike of confidence.

“Well!” She turned to Omf Smugly. “I guess everyone here wants to see a fight, hm?” She cracked her knuckles. “I guess I gotta give them the beat down of a lifetime.”

The moment Payton heard that they knew they had to be screwed. I mean, this girl stood over a foot taller than them at it looked like she ate weights for breakfast. Plus, they had no clue on how to fight. Maybe they should’ve trained with Omf for a bit. All they knew was that they did not want to get hit by this girl.

She charged toward Payton like an angry bull. Omf was petrified. All of the other hybrids stood on in curiosity and awe. As Payton watched her get closer, they saw the fist about to land on them. They flinched, closed their eyes, and prepared for the worst.

BONK!

“WHAT?” Shouted Pattie.

BONK!

BANG!

“WHAT IS THIS?”

Payton was just as confused as Pattie. They slowly opened their eyes. None of Pattie’s punches had actually landed, but why? Payton looked down at their hands. They had fused together, forming a teal color. They weren’t shaped like hands anymore, instead their hands had formed a giant shield.

BANG!

BONK!

“HEY LOSER! STOP HIDING BEHIND THAT SHIELD AND FIGHT ME!”

BANG!

“:0” said Omf. “PAYTON!!! :D! LOOK AT WHAT YOUR DOING!!! THAT’S INCREDIBLE!” He shouted, he really wanted Payton to know he had their back.

Suddenly an idea crossed their mind, they morphed the shield into two big teal boxing gloves on their hands. While Pattie was in shock from the sudden change, they wound up and hit her square in the gut. She crouched over in pain.

“YES!” Payton shouted. They looked at Omf with a proud smile on their face. “Hah! I did it!”

Omf didn’t look as convinced.

WHACK!

Just like that, Payton was out cold

When Payton opened their eyes, they were in the infirmary again, this time Pattie was laying on the bed next to them. At their feet stood a doctor, poor Omf, and a VERY angry Luna.

“So.” She said in a very disapproving tone. “I hope you two are proud of the commotion you caused today. Because we need to replace a wall.”

Then flew the accusations of “she/they started it!” But Luna wasn’t hearing any of that. “The two of you,” she said sternly. A day of washing dishes together, and I’m only being generous because Payton is new. Omf, watch over them for me.”

“Yes ma’am…” Omf said wearily.

Luna walked out of the room.

The doctor kid spoke up, he was another one of the purple folk who helped around the hideout, he looked more like a lamb with his hair looking like a lavender puffball on his head, “uhh, the good news is that none of you got any major injuries. You two will be fine in like an hour”

“Thanks Puff.” Omf sounded defeated.

“Hey no problem and,” he placed his and on Omf’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. It was out of your control.”

Omf sighed. “Okay :[…”

Payton shifted in the bed. Today was a mess, and it was all their fault. They wanted more than anything to just go home and get out of this crazy nightmare, to be a normal human again. They were getting sick of the nonsense.

“Hey,”

Payton turned to see the voice came from Pattie. “What…?”

“Your kinda alright kid, I’m sorry for tossin’ you like that.”

“I’m sorry for hitting you like that…”

“Eh, it happens. Sometime you just gotta hit somebody y’know.”

“Eh…”

Omf interjected “Well I think we shouldn’t of fought each other >:[! That wasn’t very nice of either of you!”

“We’re sorry” the both of them said.

“Well you should be! Now you two get some rest, you have dishes to get to tomorrow.”

<<PREV (you are here) NEXT>>

#Writing #original story #hybrid hideout #original work #original writing #chapter 2

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pinkygripper · 2 days ago

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"Hey youve gotta be nice to me ive had a chomp taken out of me"

"wait someone bit you?? I had absolutely *no* idea why had noone told me about this. If only someone had been here to remind me of it every two minutes."

" >:P "

Hey boppers for your eyes today i have created some cuisine. The flavour is scrumptious? I dunno why i love cochise and cowgirl so much when they're just kind of along for the ride. Listen guys they are very dear to me also cochise sticks her tounge out when shes concentrating I dont make the rules.

ALSO when I was drawing I suddenly thought cowgirl has a septum and ugh i love it forever unfortunately it didnt look right in this doodle i tried but! next time i draw her for sure.

If its not clear cochise is painting cowgirls toenails and they're having a yap session. <3

I was craving some silly sketchy doodles today so I wasnt looking too hard at references for it GUYS go and do some silly sketches! >:) also makes sure to stretch out your hands after drawing for ages

Okay also also i know I do a lot of yapping on these posts but I wanted to say thankyou!!! again for how lovely everyone is :'''') all the reblogs and comments pointing out stuff and details from my drawings that i liked made me like YIPPEEEE

Ive finally looked at the lyric book guys go look at the lyric book it has given me so many ideas so expect more art :D

anywayyyyy lots of big kisses to you all and especially @circeneedsahobby for showing me warriors, enabling my obsession by screaming about it with me and hyping me to post on here. GO LOOK AT THEIR ART! :))

#warriors album #warriors musical #warriors album fanart #fanart #warriors cowgirl #warriors cochise #the warriors

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venomwrites · 3 days ago

Note

Something something blindfolding and handcuffs - doesn’t have to be sexy though can def be angsty because even though vi was acting real cool about it I doubt it didn’t give her a fair share of panic

The shackles are heavy in Caitlyn’s hands.

How many nights has she dreamed about this?

How may ways has she dreamed about this?

Vi being slapped with shackles and dragged back and held until she saw reason. Until the anger in her eyes shifted back to Jinx where it belonged. Because surely at some point it was directed there. It was just buried under the anguish. Surely Caitlyn did not read things that wrong, Vi only needed to see reason.

Vi being shackled and hung and Caitlyn not knowing until it was too late. Until all that was left of Vi was her broken corpse, feet dangling from the bridge where she had saved her life. Ambessa’s hand falling heavy and triumphant on her shoulder as a scream starts but she can’t tell if it’s her own or Jinx’s or Vi’s ghost. It rings in her ears long after she shoots up in bed.

There’s barely any pink left on the woman in front of her.

“Let’s do this,” Vi says and holds out her wrists.

Vi with her hands knotted above her head, looking up at her with trust as she is stretched along her bed. Her tattoos glisten and her hips rock as Caitlyn tastes every scar on her face. Ever scar lower on her body. Every shade of pink that makes up Vi’s kaleidoscope.

Caitlyn thinks she might be sick.

“I can’t,” Caitlyn says.

“What? Why not?” Vi looks almost indignant, “you’ve been arresting people for months.”

Caitlyn doesn’t know how to say ‘but not you’ without sounding like even more of a monster to Vi. All the Enforcers know Vi is to be isolated if she’s captured. Caitlyn makes up some reason about betrayal and Enforcers and agrees to whatever the next thing Ambessa says is so she can have this one. Of course Vi is never arrested and now she’s standing in front of Caitlyn with her arms outstretched.

“Wait, before that you gotta hit me,” Vi says, “so it’s believable,” Caitlyn can only stare at her, “probably should be the face this time.”

“Excuse me,” she stammers out and shoves herself away.

Vi’s right about all of them. They’re as outdoors as they can be and their blindspot is small but Caitlyn gets right to the edge of it. The pain in her chest almost makes her hands shake. She’s played out seeing Vi again in a million different ways but this, this is something else. This is something she’s already done. Something she knows she’ll regret for the rest of her life.

“Cupcake—Cait,” Vi’s voice is tight, “we don’t have time for this right now.”

“I know,” Caitlyn says.

“Well—“

“Just give me a moment,” Caitlyn snaps.

Vi glares back at her and shoves her hands into her pockets, muttering a curse under her breath. There’s less desperation in her now. Less need. In an odd way she’s steadier than the last time. Her shoulders tense and she turns around. Caitlyn realizes she’s squaring up to make her hit her. And somehow that makes everything worse.

Vi thinks she has to manipulate her.

It’s like they’re back in Stillwater.

“Where?” Caitlyn grits out. Vi jams at her cheek, right under her tattoo, “that’s too close to your eye.”

“It has to be believable,” Vi says hotly, then gives a roguish smile, “besides, I block with my face.”

“Still?”

Vi’s features twist which only makes her recently broken nose more apparent. Her eyes dart back towards her and if Caitlyn didn’t know better she’d say there was something like hope in her eyes. But the expression vanishes as quickly as it came and Vi squares her shoulders, turning to face her.

“Just aim for the tattoo,” she mutters.

Caitlyn can’t bear to do that.

The sharp, surgical blow is still enough to whip Vi’s head to the side. It makes Caitlyn feel about ten inches tall when Vi’s gaze swings back to her. There’s no mistaking the anger. Though Caitlyn wishes she could. She can’t quite stop herself from stepping forward. The skin is bright and red against Vi’s pale skin.

Caitlyn wishes the color didn’t look so much like the Vi who haunts her dreams.

“You missed,” Vi says, rubbing near the spot.

“No.”

Vi’s hand pauses. Caitlyn turns back to the cuffs before she can speak. They feel just as heavy if not worse than they did a moment ago.

Slapping the shackles on Vi herself in the temple and dragging her back. Not letting her go. Vi breathing hard in her ear as they made their way back Topside where Vi belonged now. Back to the Manor, back to home, back to where everything made sense.

“Cait—“

“You’re right, we’re wasting time,” she says, “wrists.”

Vi thrusts them out. Vi’s hands have always been a mess. When they met it was by virtue of hitting concrete walls and faces with minimal protection. But she scrounged what she could. Her hands are still a mess but now there’s a carelessness to them. Half healed knuckles she’s continued to punch on, dirty wraps, its a miracle they are only swollen.

“When is the last time you broke out of these?” Vi shrugs, “we need to make sure you can.”

“I’ll be fine,” Vi says. Caitlyn holds her gaze, “fine! Here!”

She slaps the cuffs on and gets out of them quickly. It’s a relief but Caitlyn can see the edge on her. Still she rallies and puts her hands behind her back, slapping them on again. Vi is always at her most brilliant when she’s protecting. Caitlyn wonders how she forgot that.

“Last thing,” she says and she can’t help the apologetic tone though she knows it’ll just infuriate Vi.

Vi sneers at the bag in her hands. Vi hates the dark. She has for as long as Caitlyn’s known her. Even in the pits of the Fissures, Vi went for the one place that had light. She hates being in the dark. Still. Her eyes flit from the bag to her before her features set in determination.

“Do it.”

“I’m—“

“Don’t,” Vi cuts her off, “just do it.”

Caitlyn nods and approaches, guiding the bag over Vi’s face. Vi tenses when it gets near her nose. Caitlyn can’t imagine all the places on her that must hurt. She takes care not to touch her as she guides the bag down. Until all she can see of Vi is her bruised colored lips.

“Just focus on your Dad,” Caitlyn says.

“Wait,” Vi’s voice comes tight and strangled, “promise me you won’t hurt Powder.”

Caitlyn’s mouth goes dry at the collision of emotions. All of this—all of it can be worth it. She wants to take her in. She needs to kill her. She cannot believe Vi is even asking that she not make this all mean something. Anything. All that was lost has to be for something—

Vi makes a noise in the back of her throat.

“Cait—“ Vi chokes out, “please—“

It’s like being doused in cold water. The consequences of her actions are standing in front of her. Caked in grease and pain and Gods knew what else. And somehow still fighting. Still trying to aim her punches even if she was blind. Ambessa’s words echo in her head. Caitlyn doesn’t know if she’s strong enough to forgive Jinx. She doesn’t want to. But if Vi is strong enough to let her darken the world, surely—surely she can try.

“Alright,” she spits out.

Vi sucks in a breath and relaxes.

She believes her.

Caitlyn doesn’t deserve her faith. She doesn’t deserve her trust. She knows that and yet Vi gives it. She stares down the darkness and the fear and claws her way back. Enforcers talk about bravery, they aspire to it. Vi puts them all to shame. It’s so bright Caitlyn can barely stand to look.

So she pulls the bag down over Vi’s lips and resolves not to give her any more ghosts.

#vi #caitlyn kiramman #caitvi #arcane #vi x caitlyn #caitlyn x vi #arcane spoilers #this one's more of a missing scene but there is angsty introspection

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yougavememyopia · 6 hours ago

Text

Tags: Dubcon 18+, fem reader receiving, sub male yandere, kidnapping

He wore you down.

You stopped pushing him and yelling almost half an hour ago. His face was buried in your neck, his nose brushing against a sensitive spot. You tried once more to push him away, but that only made him hold you tighter. One of his legs was over your waist, and one of his arms around your shoulders. He held you tightly, making sure you weren't able to escape. It didn't matter. You couldn’t escape even if you tried. Your hands were tied in front of you, and so were your legs.

"Let.. go," you weakly protested, too tired to move your body.

"I told you an hour ago, I'm not letting go." He mumbled against your neck and then moved up to whisper in your ear. "I'm never letting you go. We're going to be together forever."

Shivers ran down your spine. His voice echoed in your ear. You were so tired. His hug was so comfortable.

"Augh... This can't be happening."

Your nose was invaded by the sweet smell of his cologne. His arms tightened even more, squeezing the life out of you.

"I love you.. I love you so much. Is it so bad to just let me take you? Please, let me have you. I'm tired of watching you be sad. I can make you happy. So, so happy..."

You scoffed. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"No." He began kissing your neck. It felt nice. The wet feeling of his tongue made you groan. "Doesn't that feel good? Don't you want this feeling to last forever? A cute boy like me... here for whatever you need."

You could feel his grin. He was trying to use pleasure to manipulate you. His hand moved to your chest, squeezing your breast in his hand.

You gasped. The thin shirt made it clear how hard your nipples were already. He rolled it between his fingers. His other hand came in to join. Both of them palming and messaged your chest. He started moaning softly in your ear.

"Mmh... This feels so much better than when you do it by yourself, right? My hands are bigger, warmer..."

He became harsher with his grip, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Mumbling about how he can be there for you, how your life will be so much better with him. You didn't protest, just enjoying the arousing feeling he was causing.

"Should I go lower? You're clenching your thighs together. Do you want me to touch you? Want me to make you feel good? Please, can I? Can I? Please, please, please!"

He sucked on your earlobe, not waiting for you to speak before putting his hands down the waistline of your panties.

"I'm so excited. I've been waiting for this forever. Do you know how many times I imagined this? How many times I practiced for this day? Oh, please..."

He rubbed a finger over your slit, parting your folds. Grabbing the wetness from your hole to bring up to your sensitive numb.

"Ah.. fuck..."

He rubbed it in a circular motion, making your body shake. You bit your lip, barely containing the sounds coming from your lips.

In contrast to you, he was moaning with no shame. Rubbing your clit impatiently, trying to be gentle. "It's so wet. Is that how it always is when you're playing with yourself? It feels so good. Do you feel good? Are you enjoying it? Please be enjoying it. Please love me."

He stopped abruptly. You sighed. He pushed you on your back, climbing on top of you.

"I need to see your face. I need to see you when I make you feel good. Ah, fuck, I'm making you feel good. I can't believe it."

He had a stupid grin on his face as he leaned down. He captured your lips in a deep kiss, his hands caressing your hair and rubbing your side. You already made out for a while earlier, yet it seemed like he wasn't done with your lips.

"Ah.. I gotta stay focused. You're distracting me from you. You taste so good. I love this. I love you. Fuck..."

He sighed, pulling down your underwear. He buried himself between your legs and started devouring you. You couldn't do anything but moan. He worked at a weird pace, going really fast but then slowing down. He couldn't keep his enthusiasm in check and probably had no idea what he was doing.

"Augh.. pick a pace." You forced yourself to say between pants. "Feels.. weird.."

"S-sorry... Be patient with me. Please? I promise I'll learn for you. We can... We can practice every night like this. Please? Wouldn't that be nice? Won't you enjoy it?"

He went back to sucking your nub, his fingers shakily pushing into you. One, then two, then three.

"Nngh!" You groaned.

He chuckled, pulling them out and then back in. Slowly, and then he picked up the pace. "Ah.. you're so tight. It's soft in here. Mmh, I feel so happy. It feels so good. Please..." He continued to do that while his mouth was busy. He curled his fingers, trying to use all the knowledge he gathered.

"Is that good? Mmph? You liked it? Should I do it more? Can I make you come?" He mumbled against you, picking up the speed as your thighs shook. "Mmh.. I wanna taste your release. I wanna feel you finish. You're squeezing around my fingers. You're close, right? Please come. Please, please, please!"

He moaned, continuing to beg you. You couldn't hold it back any longer. You squeezed his head with your legs and arched your back. He whined with you as you finished. He kept going gently, milking your release.

After a minute or two of licking you clean, he pulled back. He buried his head in your chest, panting. Kissed your cheek and then hugged you tightly.

"I'm all yours, y'know. You can tell me to do anything, and I'll do it. Just love me, please. Please..." He tilted his head up, making eye contact. "Did I do good? Did you like it? Hm? Was I a good boy?"

His eyes were getting glassy. You just stared back at him before nodding your head. Still fazed. "Yeah. Good... boy... You did well."

"Mmh! I'm your good boy. Your good boy forever now. We can do this lots more, yeah? Please let me make you feel good again."

He unbuttoned your shirt. His mouth immediately went to take in your nipple in his mouth. He sucked greedily, his hand playing with your other breast.

This was going to be a long night.

#yandere boy #yandere #yanblr #yandere oc #obsessive love #inexperienced #dom reader #sub yandere #sub character #pathetic men #pathetic yandere #desperate yandere #female reader #male yandere

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