#tell them to leave and/or block then please

[kennedyhateskanye]

Jinx dating head cannons

because i unfortunately developed a deep and uncharacteristic attraction to her.

Warnings: angst, f!reader, writing of drastically poor quality probably, codependency,

Jinx isn’t all there, you knew it very well going in, both of you, which is why her intelligence, depth, and capacity for love shocked you. Of course her mental illness rises and falls. Flaring up and resolving itself several times each day. It’s not uncommon for her to be extremely lucid and seemingly resolved of any mental block for a few hours, behaving so “normally” you’d forget she struggled at all if you didn’t know her so very well.

Of course the longer you loved her, the more resilient you became to the emotional roller coaster she dragged those around her on. You learned not to take it personally. And even more importantly, to never hold it against her, after all, if it was hard for you to deal with her mental anguish, it must be infinitely more difficult for her.

However, what most people don’t know about loving jinx, when they picture it, is that all the work it was seemed minuscule in comparison to the pay off.

She was a force of nature, complex and beautiful and unforgiving, to witness her was to be put in awe. Any struggle she gave you was collateral. You’d walk through fire through her love. Enormously more warm and sweet and all encompassing than that of any of the smirking pilties that turned their nose up at her.

She’d wake up in the middle of the night. To watch your chest rise and fall, and to thank her lucky stars that you were here with her.

She thought of you in everything, saw you in everything she did, evrey task she carried out, every tool and trinket she built

It was near constant you’d walk into your shared room to find something she’d crafted for you with her own two hands and her remarkable genius. Welded flowers, jewelry boxes, wind up toys, hell sometimes you didn’t even know what they were supposed to be, all painstakingly painted in great detail with her signature colors.

That and the notes, oh the notes. all scribed in her chicken scratch with her special quill fountain pen. You’d find them everywhere. Under cups, in your journals, on the walls, hidden beneath pillows. Some were proclamations of love, some were slightly nonsensical. Some were drawings of you two, or sketches she did of you while you weren’t looking, ink strokes depicting you distracted with a task, face scrunched in concentration.

You guessed all her little tendencies were not only small acts of love, but also reminders, that she was there, even when she was away. Jinx struggles with abandonment, scratching grading voices telling her you’ll leave her, storm off and forget about her without a second thought. So, Subconsciously she reminds you, tries to entertain and to please even in her absence.

You are her first thought in the loneliness of the morning when you’re not yet awake, she often feels a pang in her heart at the thought of you and wraps herself desperately around your body, nuzzling her face into your neck or chest to capture your scent and your presence.

She lets loose for you, lets her hair down, lets her hips sway to the music while she’s working, lets her foot tap absentmindedly, lets her subconscious train of thought out, and finds herself loving nothing more than when you reply to each bit of her ramblings as she goes.

She has never felt such relief as she has for the duration of your relationship. Someone to stay, to rub her temples and hum for her when the voices swarm hurting her head. Someone to disarm her when she hallucinates, using practiced exercises to help her check reality. Someone to bandage her hands when she chews at her cuticles and skin absent mindedly

The care absolutely goes both ways, though, and jinx truly does dote over you in endless ways.

She can sense when you are even slightly altered in any way, frustrated, sad, doesn’t matter. She can tell, and she uses her supercomputer of a brain to make a mental bullet list of the most effective ways to make your uncomfortably dissapear

Sometimes jinx looses herself in her scattered mind and forgets to come up for breath. Forgetting to bathe, to eat, to sleep. You take the burden off her shoulders, slowly and tediously washing all of her long blue hair, braiding it back into a wearable style. Scrubbing days old makeup of her face with a washcloth and a gentle hand, taking turns biting out of something you cooked for her.

After these sessions you dress her in your clothes and lay in bed together for hours wide awake, while she stares at you with wide beautiful eyes, saying very little, iorn grip on your arm or your hand, her heart racing with immeasurable love and affection

That’s a whole other thing, jinx has a very serious staring problem, your not sure what it is, but you’ve come to accept it, she often goes selectively silent and stares with her eyes blown wide. Taking in evrey facet of your being. It’s unmistakably affectionate

Jinx wants to be buried with you, jinx wants to see you through evrey season of every lifetime. There’s no question that girl loves you

[jujuscrolled]

Satoru Gojo has a lot of love in his heart and he refuses to keep it all inside. His preferred method of showing exactly how much love he has to offer? Physical touch.

Even before he knew he loved you, your personal space had quickly become his personal space.

“Say, Gojo, you ever heard of personal space?” You asked one day as satoru pressed his leg up against yours while sitting on the bleachers. The two of you were watching Shoko and Suguru “spar”, though really it was just them doing the least amount of work possible - enough to keep Yaga satisfied but no where near enough for it to actually have any effect on their improvement (“you can only get better with real life experience!” Suguru would say leaning back on his chair slightly. “And i’ve got better things to do than fight this loser anyway.” Shoko nodded to herself , ignoring Suguru and Satoru’s eye rolls.)

“It’s Toru to you, and i’ve heard of it. Why do you ask?” He asked leaning closer to your face making you roll your eyes, “oh, you know, it’s just that usually people like to stay within their own personal space. Not in mine.” You thwacked his forehead causing him to whine dramatically before he threw an arm around your shoulders. “But I like your personal space better than mine, Sweets! Not my fault you have your own gravitational pull and stuff.” He grinned as he watched your cheeks bloom a lovely shade of red.

That being said if he sees anyone invading your personal space he will not hold back. “Hey, you mind backing out of our personal space?” he’d tell anyone who he deemed to be far too close to you before wrapping an arm around you and practically absorbing you into his side.

You’d only roll your eyes, heat filling your cheeks as you pinched his side. “Yeowch!” he’d exclaim dramatically but still never backing away from you.

Satoru Gojo also needs a lot of reassurance. He’s not picky on how he receives it as long as he receives it. He needs it. And if he felt he wasn’t getting enough back you’d definitely be hearing about it.

“I can’t believe we went from being madly in love to being just roommates.” he sighed one day, shaking head before placing the back of his hand over his forehead; imitating a damsel in distress. He was leaning against the bathroom door watching from his peripheral as you rolled your eyes, not moving away from in front of the bathroom mirror and into his arms like he had hoped.

“Neither can I… Because that hasn’t happened.” you sighed finishing your skin care before flicking the bathroom light off and squeezing past him, right under the arm that he had placed specifically to block you from leaving.

His pout deepened as he followed behind you like a lost puppy.

“Hasn’t?! As in it could?!” He whined reaching his arm towards you but narrowly missing the back of your shirt (you had sped up at the last second, already having had anticipated his behavior).

“Gojo.”

“That doesn’t work anymore, I’m not sure if you’re talking about me or you now, so you’ll have to be more specific about who you’re talking about!” he scoffed, finally grabbing onto your body before you were able to flop down onto your bed. You let out a whine, giving up and simply allowing him to maneuver your body however he pleased.

Taking your flimsy body as permission, he turned you around to face him, he wrapped his arms tightly around your torso before biting your cheek softly, coaxing a soft hiss from you.

“That’s exactly my point, Toru. We’re married not roommates… Does that not show how madly in love with you I am?” You couldn’t help but coo at him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiled widely at you, pursing his lips before tightening his already brutal grip on your body.

“Dunno… You’ve only kissed me like two times today. Tax getting high on them or what up? I can pay my fees, ya know?” You rolled your eyes again but a small smile pulled at the corners of your lips. You had definitely kissed him way over two times but you knew that when he got this way there was no other way to soothe him than by giving him what he wants.

“They’ll run you about 450… Each. Sure you got it like that?”

“What about the husband discount?”

“Make it 650.”

“Ugh! You’re an evil little gremlin, aren’t you?”

To nobody’s surprise he got his kisses. Several of them and in quick succession resulting in your face being covered in an abhorrent amount of his spit (his full face smooches are always so unnecessarily messy!) Family discount be damned, he’d pay whatever tariff necessary for your love (not that he ever had to!)

[callsign-rogueone]

an unexpected visitor

cadet!Brennan Sorrengail x cadet!reader words: 1.6k 🏷: sfw (taking a break from the overdue kinktober stuff!), canon-typical injury, why do rider cadets always try to kill each other at 3am, you get stabbed, sorry, but Bren mends you up, no pronouns used for reader but you wear feminine pj's and smell like flowers <3, bren just met you but he's already down bad, naolin cameo, marbh is sassy, i just love writing lil cadet bren.

“Find Brennan Sorrengail.”

It takes you a second to place the name -- the boy in your year with the mending signet. The general’s son. He’s not in your squad, or even in your wing, so he has every right to put you out of your misery — but something is screaming at you that you can trust him, that he’ll help you. He wouldn’t have become a mender if he didn’t have a good heart, right? Surely he wouldn’t leave you to die, or finish you off himself to thin the herd.

You’ll die without his help anyway, so it’s worth a shot.

“You are not dying today. I will not allow it.”

“How exactly are you going to—”

The door swings open, and you thank the gods that you remembered which room was his. 

He’s visibly confused, probably because he doesn’t even know your name, and you’re knocking on his door at three in the morning in negligeé. He blinks at you once, twice, about to ask why you’re here — and then he spots the knife currently sticking out of your ribcage.

“Please,” you rasp, clinging to the doorway with a bloodied hand. “Wasn’t gonna make it to the healers…” 

He doesn’t hesitate, tossing his own blade aside, yanking a towel down from the hook by the door and throwing it over the bedspread, guiding you to lay down with a gentle hand on your elbow. 

You cry softly as the movement shifts the knife, and he murmurs an apology as you lay back, helping lower you down. Your eyes lock with his, and for a moment you’re entranced by the flickers of emotion in them, the minute movements of his pupils as he takes you in… you've never seen anyone with irises that color, such a warm, rich amber.

He pulls away first, focusing back on the issue at hand. “Can I tear this? I’ll fix it later.”

It takes a second for you to realize that he’s talking about your shirt. “Sure,” you wheeze. 

He hooks his fingers into the split from the knife and pulls, the fabric ripping easily. He’s quick to drape another towel over your chest, letting you keep some decency. 

You really should have chosen better clothing — you’re a little embarrassed to be laying on his bed in a now-shredded pink satin teddy and a tiny pair of shorts, but in your defense, when you got out of bed to relieve yourself, you didn’t think you’d be getting into a knife fight, and then knocking on a near-stranger’s door to ask him to save your life. 

He doesn’t seem to care at all, more worried about the wound than anything else. He’s not telling you anything, but the crease between his eyebrows and the tone of his voice as he mutters a few colorful words gives it all away. 

“Is it bad?” you rasp.

“The blood is bubbling. That means the knife went through your lung.”

“Oh,” you say hollowly. Talking is agonizing, but you feel the need to fill the silence, to make this interaction any less awkward. “This is my first time being stabbed, so…”

He huffs out a laugh. “You’re doing great. It’s serrated, so it’s going to do more damage coming out than it did going in, but I should be able to fix it. It might scar, though. I’m not that good yet.”

“I’ll take those odds.”

“I need two hands for this, so I can’t block the pain.”

“Just do it,” you beg, tears already flowing down your cheeks. “Please.”

He settles a warm hand on your side, wrapping the other around the hilt. “Ready?” 

“Yes, please just get it over with—” you try to muffle your scream with your hand, but it still slips out into the air as he starts to ease the knife back out, the jagged edges ripping your skin further.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he soothes, his thumb stroking over your rib as he continues to pull slowly, slowly… then there’s a clatter of metal hitting the floor. “It’s out.”

You almost regret asking him to remove it. The cold air of the room hitting the inside of the wound feels like your skin has been lit on fire, and somehow breathing is even more difficult than it was before; the blade was plugging the hole in your lung, and now it feels like you’d just accidentally inhaled half a glass of water. You bring an elbow up to cough into, your eyes widening as you realize that the metallic taste in your mouth is blood — and the warmth pouring down your side, too.

“Fuck, okay… I’m gonna try to fix it now. Just hold on for me. Try to relax.”

You sob in relief as the pain dulls, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to focus on anything other than the burning feeling in your lungs, and not being able to breathe. 

Layer by layer, the wound joins itself back together, leaving only a pink scar behind. Your breaths even out, your eyes fluttering shut and your posture relaxing.  “That’s it,” he soothes. “I’m almost done.”

You don’t respond, and he realizes you’re unconscious. Not an abnormal reaction to having such a serious wound, but a slightly inconvenient one: he can’t ask you what happened, or if you have any other serious injuries. 

The fabric slowly stitches itself back together, the bloodied patches disappearing along with the dried blood coating your skin. The stained towel and the red under his fingernails are the only evidence that anything had happened. That, and the bruise on your arm — though that looks to be a few days old. 

Whoever attacked you must have snuck up on you, thinking one quick stab would finish the job. If they were coward enough to take such a cheap shot at someone in the middle of the night, they’re probably dumb enough to think that would kill you. He wonders if they met their demise, and they’re currently laying dead in the hallway, or if they made an escape. You probably didn’t let them get away with this. You don’t seem like the type to run away from a fight, especially when the other person struck first, and when you’d shown up at his door it didn’t look like you were being chased, either. 

He fades away the bruise and a papercut on your finger, admiring the softness of your skin against his. You’re warm, which is a good sign that you didn't lose too much blood. 

You look quite comfortable laid out on the side of his bed, your head resting on your arm and your legs tucked up toward your chest. You probably aren’t going to wake up any time soon. It’s nearly four in the morning, anyway, and you need as much sleep as you can get after tonight’s events. 

He carefully climbs in on the other side, giving you plenty of room, and pulls the blankets over the pair of you. You stir, burrowing down into the warmth with a soft, content sound. 

He watches you for a moment, comforted by the steadiness of your breathing. Might as well get some sleep, he decides — formation is in less than three hours.

———————————————————-

Thankfully you’re an early riser. The only thing that could make this any more awkward would be if he had to wake you up. 

You yawn and stretch, cracking an eye open to see that his face is only a foot away from yours. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, a light blush covering his cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I don’t have a knife sticking out of me anymore, so pretty good.”

He exhales in relief. “I was worried that you wouldn’t remember, and then this would be super awkward.”

You laugh, sitting up. “Thank you for saving my life and letting me crash — and I’m sorry. It was pretty dumb of me to walk down the hall without a knife or anything. I thought we were safe now that we’re bonded, but I guess not.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, it’s theirs.” He pauses. “Did you…”

“No,” you answer. “I didn’t kill him. Just knocked him out.”

Him? Brennan’s jaw clenches. “Was it that prick from third wing?”

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess. He seems like the type to go after someone unarmed and unaware. Especially someone half his size.”

You snort. “Seeing the look on his face at formation is going to be so fun.”

He blinks at you, questioning how calm you’re being about this. You take advantage of his stunned silence, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I owe you one. Two, really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he manages. 

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, making a graceful drop to the floor and bending down to pick up your slippers -- he’d straightened them up for you. How sweet. You spot the knife on his desk, nodding toward it. “Do you want this, or can I keep it as a souvenir?”

“You can keep it. You earned it, after all.”

“Good point. Thanks.”

He keeps his eyes on the wall as you slip out the door, trying to look at anything except the amount of skin that shows in that little pajama set you’re wearing.

As the door closes behind you, he can hear you greeting someone -- not embarrassed at all to be walking down the hall in your pajamas, your slippers in one hand and the dagger in the other.

He flops back down onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the interaction in his head, analyzing every word for any hint of deeper meaning. 

“Good morning.”

He jolts upright, snapped out of his thoughts. “Gods above, Marbh,” he pants, recovering from the shock. 

“You’re going to be late.”

Is it possible for a dragon to sound smug?

There’s a knock at the door before it opens -- Naolin. “Why aren’t you dressed?” He sniffs once, twice, his eyebrows creasing in confusion. “And why does it smell like rose petals in here?”

[nolongersigma]

Osamu Dazai SMUT.

MINORS DNI warnings! Dazai crunches up on your cooch, gender neutral pronouns used but afab reader implied, Relationship already established. This is a short fic!!

(headers from Pinterest)

You are absolutely drenched by the time you get back home. It’s been stormy all week and it’s making everything totally depressing, not the fact you work a 9-5 office job that looks like the stereotypes. Kicking off your boots as you enter Osamu’s apartment, you lazily toss your jacket who knows where and you slump onto the couch. When you close your eyes to relax for just a minute, you hear the god awful footsteps of your boyfriend! Can’t you just get a break yet??

His voice rings out like a fork against a plate. “Welcome back! Couldn’t even care to announce your arrival?” He says in fake somber as he drops to his knees by the couch where you sit and lays his head by your thigh. You groan in response and put your hands over your eyes to block out the light. “I thought you wouldn’t be home until seven…” You grumble out, to which he chuckles. “I convinced Kunikida-kun to let me leave early~” You roll your eyes, as if, he definitely used his wits to escape or something, typical. He’s going to get an earful tomorrow. Simply, you slump back, making your exhaustion as obvious as possible, knowing he can definitely tell. Of course, Osamu pretends, typical… He innocently smiles up at you, his hand on your knee and his body sat on the floor before you, as if he were praising a higher being. It’s a pleasing sight, you admit mentally. Maybe if you were a bit more energized, you’d give him some attention, but you just lay back and close your eyes, to which he pouts. Shuffling can be heard before your legs are spread. You jerk in surprise and look down at Osamu between your legs. It’s something your used to but it certainly caught you off guard when he does that so quickly! Relaxing again, you absentmindedly move your hips forward towards him and he eagerly digs his fingers into the plush of your thighs. Osamu is definitely going to ask you to crush him between your thighs after this, as usual. You lazily watch him nimbly undo your belt and pull it off, tossing it to the other side of the couch before unzipping your pants. He grins as he sees a bit of your panties and he gets to work on pulling off your nuisance of pants. Osamu finally gets them off and he admires your taste in underwear before running his finger tip along the seam of your panties. He snickers and looks up towards you. You roll your eyes, not in the mood for foreplay. Osamu reads the expression easily and quickly hooks his fingers into the panties and pulls them down to your thighs. He groans under his breath at the sight of your sex, excitement building as he notices you’re not even wet. Osamu loves when he has to really try for it..

Pulling down your panties the rest of the way, whispering some curses, he brings his face close to where the tip of his nose bumps against the flesh of your cunt. The musky scent has his eyes rolling back and body twitching like a virgin. Looking back up at you one more time, admiring your invisible grin before leaning in and licking a fat stripe against your slit, top to bottom. He moans, loud, louder than you. As his tongue reaches your clit, he sucks down on it, teeth grazing against it, making you twitch immediately. His nails dig into your inner thighs as he eats like a starved dog. Teeth, tongue, lips, it all has you arching and moaning like you never have. Your hands fly to grip his hair and gain at least a little control, fingers tangling into the brown locks as he continues slurping up on your sensitive cunt. Whining, your legs move to his shoulders and he takes it as just more invitation to go further. His teeth lightly bite down on your clit, making you yelp in surprise. You feel him smile against your pussy, so you hit the top of his head, to which it turns into a pout. He licks gently over where he bit before going back to using his whole tongue to lick everywhere else. The sensation of his tongue flattening then him sucking right after is too much. You squeal and yell whatever will come out of your mouth as you grip anything for dear life. Your back arches and you groan in a high pitched way, swearing you could see the light. No, you really just squirted all over his face. When you come back down from your high, you glance down at Osamu, blinking away the tears. You finally see the mess you made on him and the surprised expression on his face, (which is a first for you.) which makes you almost laugh. He slowly smiles wildly. “I have never seen you do that before, that was so sexy.” He giggles like a little kid with a crush. “Hey! I wanna see you do that again. Let’s do it again.” …How fun.

[delusionalfanficwriter]

Kristie & Her Firefighter (Ariana OG character)

The air smelled like roasted chestnuts and city streets—Kristie loved this time of year, the way the crispness of fall wrapped itself around everything like a warm scarf. She held Ariana’s hand tightly as they walked through downtown Seattle, both savoring a rare day off together. Ariana had been practically glued to Station 19 since she joined the crew a year ago, trading her cleats for turnout gear after retiring from soccer. Kristie couldn’t be prouder, even if she hated the late nights and early mornings that came with the job. Ariana was a hero, plain and simple.

“What are you thinking about?” Ariana asked, her voice low, carrying that calm confidence that had drawn Kristie to her in the first place.

“You,” Kristie admitted with a grin, bumping her hip against Ariana’s. “And how lucky I am.”

Ariana chuckled, squeezing Kristie’s hand. “I’m the lucky one.”

They turned a corner, and that’s when it hit them: the acrid smell of smoke, sharp and unmistakable. Kristie stopped in her tracks as Ariana’s head snapped toward the source. About a block away, a small house was engulfed in flames, the orange and red licking hungrily at the sky

“Oh my God,” Kristie gasped.

Ariana didn’t waste a second. “Call 911,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding. Her hand slipped out of Kristie’s as she started toward the house.

“Ariana, wait!” Kristie’s voice cracked, panic setting in. “You’re not on duty!”

But Ariana was already moving, her pace quickening as shouts erupted from the growing crowd of onlookers. A woman stood on the front lawn, screaming, her words fractured and frantic.

“My babies! Please! They’re still inside!”

Ariana froze mid-stride. Her breath hitched, her mind processing the weight of those words. Her feet moved before her brain could catch up, instincts and adrenaline taking over. She turned back to Kristie, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Call 911. Tell them there are kids trapped inside.”

“Ariana, don’t!” Kristie yelled, her voice cracking as Ariana broke into a full sprint toward the inferno.

The heat was immediate, pressing against Ariana’s skin like a wall of fire even before she reached the doorway. Smoke billowed out, thick and black, stinging her eyes and clawing at her throat. She crouched low, instinctively pulling her hoodie up to cover her nose and mouth. The roar of the flames was deafening, drowning out everything but the erratic pounding of her heart.

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” she shouted, her voice hoarse and strained.

The muffled sound of crying cut through the crackling of wood. Ariana dropped lower, her hand skimming the floor as she followed the sound. She moved quickly but carefully, navigating through a haze of smoke and heat that seemed to cling to her like a second skin.

“In here!” a small, panicked voice called from somewhere in the back.

Ariana pushed forward, the heat intensifying with every step. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the air thick with smoke and ash. She found them in the kitchen—a boy, maybe seven, and a little girl no older than three. They were huddled under a table, the boy shielding his sister with his body.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Ariana said, her voice as calm as she could make it. She crouched down, extending her arms. “We’re going to get out of here, I promise. Can you walk?”

The boy nodded, clutching his sister tightly. Ariana didn’t hesitate. She scooped the little girl into her arms and grabbed the boy’s hand, leading them toward what should have been the front door. But when she turned the corner, her heart sank. Flames had engulfed the entryway, cutting off their exit.

“Damn it,” she muttered, scanning the room for another way out. The fire was spreading faster than she’d expected, the structure groaning under its own weight.

They were almost there when the beam gave way, crashing to the floor inches from where they stood. Ariana shielded the kids with her body, her heart pounding as she scrambled to her feet.

“Almost there,” she muttered, more to herself than to them.

...

Maya Bishop jumped out first, followed by Jack, Travis, and the rest of the crew. Kristie ran to Maya, desperation etched on her face.

“Ariana’s in there!” she yelled.

Maya’s face darkened. “Of course she is,” she muttered. “She can’t help herself.”

“She heard there were kids inside,” Kristie added, her voice trembling. “Please, get her out.”

Maya nodded, already strapping on her helmet. “We will.”

Inside, Ariana was backing toward a window, shielding the kids with her body as flames roared around them. She felt her strength flagging, the heat pressing in from all sides, when she heard the faint but unmistakable sound of her team’s voices.

“Ariana! Where are you?” Jack’s voice boomed through the chaos.

“In here!” a small, panicked voice called from somewhere in the back.

Ariana pushed forward, the heat intensifying with every step. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the air thick with smoke and ash. She found them in the kitchen—a boy, maybe seven, and a little girl no older than three. They were huddled under a table, the boy shielding his sister with his body.

Outside, Maya and Jack breached the front door, the heat and smoke hitting them like a freight train. They moved quickly, scanning the house for signs of life. Jack spotted movement near the window and shouted to Maya.

“There! By the living room!”

Maya nodded, motioning for him to cover her as she moved toward the window. Through the thick smoke, she saw Ariana, clutching a little girl with one arm while guiding a boy with the other.

“Ariana!” Maya called, her voice muffled by her mask.

Ariana’s head snapped up, relief flooding her face. “I’ve got them!” she shouted back.

Jack smashed the window with the butt of his axe, clearing the way as Maya reached in to help. They got the kids out first, handing them off to Travis, who waited outside. Then Maya extended her hand to Ariana.

“Come on, let’s go!” Maya yelled.

Ariana hesitated for a split second, her legs trembling from exhaustion. But she grabbed Maya’s hand, letting herself be pulled through the window just as another beam collapsed behind her.

The flames roared behind them as Maya and Jack helped Ariana through the shattered living room window, their movements swift and methodical. Once outside, Ariana leaned forward, hands braced on her knees, coughing a few times but quickly straightening up. She brushed soot from her face, giving Maya a lopsided grin.

“Not bad for a retired athlete, huh?” Ariana quipped, her voice raspy but laced with humor. She turned to Kristie, who was already rushing toward her. “You see that? Still got it.”

Kristie didn’t bother with words. She threw her arms around Ariana, holding her tightly despite the soot and sweat. “You scared the hell out of me,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Ariana patted her back, chuckling softly. “Come on, babe. I’ve done worse. You’re dating a firefighter, remember?”

Jack, standing nearby, shook his head with a small grin. “She’s been one of us for too long—she thinks this is normal.”

“Definitely normal,” Ariana said, cracking a crooked smile as she wiped her forehead, leaving a streak of soot across her face. “Save some kids, ruin my hoodie, get yelled at by my girlfriend—just a day off.”

Maya smirked but kept her eyes on Ariana, her sharp gaze catching the subtle tension in her posture. “Yeah, well, don’t think you’re out of the woods yet. You inhaled a lot of smoke in there. We’ll check you out back at the station.”

“I’m fine, Bishop,” Ariana said, waving her off. “Stop mothering me.”

But as she said it, she wavered slightly, just enough for Kristie to notice. Kristie stepped back, her brow furrowing as she looked at Ariana more closely.

“Ari, are you sure you’re okay?” Kristie asked, her voice tinged with concern.

“Yeah,” Ariana replied, though her smile faltered. She took a shaky breath and blinked rapidly, her vision swimming for a moment. “I just... need a minute.”

The words barely left her lips before her legs buckled. She stumbled forward, and Maya caught her, lowering her gently to the ground.

“Ariana!” Kristie’s voice cracked as she dropped to her knees beside her.

Jack was at Kristie’s side in an instant, gently pulling her back. “Kristie, give them space,” he said softly but firmly, his arm steadying her as she started to panic.

Maya crouched next to Ariana, her voice calm but commanding. “Ari, stay with me. Can you hear me? What’s going on?”

Ariana’s head lolled to the side, her breathing shallow and erratic. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused, and she struggled to speak. “Just... tired,” she rasped.

“Her breathing’s too shallow,” Maya said, glancing over her shoulder. “Travis! Get me oxygen now!”

Travis sprinted to the truck, returning seconds later with a portable oxygen tank and mask. Maya placed the mask over Ariana’s face, adjusting it carefully.

“Come on, Ari, breathe,” Maya urged, her voice tight but steady. “Deep breaths. You can do this.”

Ariana’s hand twitched, as if she was trying to push the mask away, but her strength was fading. Maya pressed two fingers to her neck, her expression darkening as she checked her pulse.

“It’s fast, but weak,” Maya said. “She’s crashing.”

Kristie let out a strangled sob, and Jack tightened his hold on her, his voice soothing. “They’ve got her, Kristie. Maya knows what she’s doing.”

Kristie nodded, tears streaming down her face as she clutched Jack’s arm. “She was fine two minutes ago,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “She was joking with me.”

Maya’s voice cut through the chaos. “She’s compensating for something. We need to figure out what.” She leaned closer to Ariana, her tone softening. “Ari, listen to me. Did you hit your head? Do you feel any pain?”

Ariana blinked sluggishly, her lips moving under the mask. Maya leaned closer, straining to hear.

“...chest... hurts,” Ariana whispered, her words barely audible.

Maya’s jaw tightened. She looked up at Jack and Travis. “It might be smoke inhalation, but if she’s saying chest pain, we can’t rule out a cardiac issue. We need to move her now. We’re taking her ourselves. Jack, help me get her on the stretcher.”

Jack nodded, releasing Kristie and moving quickly to Maya’s side. Together, they lifted Ariana onto the stretcher, securing her as carefully as possible.

Kristie clung to Travis, her breathing ragged as she watched. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s tough,” Travis reassured her, though his own worry was evident. “She’ll pull through.”

As they loaded Ariana into the back of the truck, Maya turned to Kristie, her expression softening. “You’re coming with us. Get in.”

Kristie didn’t hesitate, climbing into the truck and taking Ariana’s hand. “I’m here,” she whispered, her tears falling freely. “I’m right here.”

Maya sat beside Ariana, her eyes locked on the monitor as they sped toward the hospital. Her hand rested lightly on Ariana’s arm, her voice steady as she spoke.

“Stay with us, Ari,” Maya murmured. “We’ve got you. Just hang on.”

The sirens wailed, the urgency of their mission echoing through the night.

The ambulance’s sirens wailed, drowning out the pounding of Kristie’s heart. She sat next to Ariana on the narrow bench, clutching her girlfriend’s hand as Maya worked efficiently beside her, her focus locked on the monitor displaying Ariana’s vitals.

“She’s still tachycardic,” Maya muttered, frowning at the screen. “Heart rate’s through the roof, and it’s irregular. Damn it.”

Kristie’s stomach twisted. “What does that mean? What’s wrong with her?”

Maya glanced at her, her expression professional but tinged with concern. “It’s likely from the smoke inhalation—carbon monoxide poisoning can cause arrhythmias. But until we run tests at the hospital, we can’t rule out other things, like if she hit her head or had some kind of cardiac event.”

Kristie’s grip tightened on Ariana’s hand, her knuckles white. Ariana stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open for a moment before sliding shut again.

“Ari, hey,” Kristie said, her voice trembling. “Stay with me, babe. You’re scaring me.”

Ariana’s lips moved faintly under the oxygen mask, but no sound came out. Kristie looked at Maya, her panic bubbling over. “Why isn’t she saying anything? She was talking before.”

“She’s slipping in and out of consciousness,” Maya said evenly, though the tightness in her jaw betrayed her worry. “That’s why we need to keep her oxygenated and monitor her. If her rhythm worsens or her oxygen levels drop—” She stopped herself, not wanting to say the worst aloud.

Maya pulled out her phone, typing a quick text with one hand while keeping her other hand on Ariana’s wrist, checking her pulse. Kristie caught a glimpse of the name: Carina.

“Emergency. Ariana’s in bad shape. Meet us at the ER. Kristie needs you.”

Kristie blinked back tears, focusing on Ariana’s face. Her girlfriend’s usual fire and humor were gone, replaced by pallor and shallow breaths. “Come on, Ari,” Kristie whispered. “You’re tougher than this. You don’t get to scare me like this.”

Ariana’s eyes fluttered open again, glassy and unfocused. “Kris...tie,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

“I’m here,” Kristie said quickly, leaning closer. “I’m right here, baby. Just hang on.”

“Hurts...” Ariana’s hand twitched weakly in Kristie’s grip.

“I know, I know it does,” Kristie choked out, tears streaming down her face. “We’re almost there. Just hold on a little longer.”

Maya’s voice cut through the tension. “Her rhythm’s worsening—V-tach,” she said sharply, her hand moving to adjust the defibrillator pads already attached to Ariana’s chest. “I’m prepping for a shock if it doesn’t stabilize.”

Kristie’s world tilted. “Shock? What do you mean? Maya—”

Maya placed a steadying hand on Kristie’s shoulder. “If her heart doesn’t stabilize, we might have to shock it back into rhythm. It’s scary, but it’s what she needs. I won’t let her crash on us.”

Ariana stirred again, her eyelids heavy as she looked at Maya, her voice barely audible. “Bishop... bossy... as always.”

Maya huffed out a short, relieved laugh, though her eyes stayed on the monitor. “And you’re a pain in the ass as always. Stay awake so you can keep sassing me, Ari.”

Kristie let out a shaky laugh, relief momentarily breaking through her panic. “You hear that? You’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

Ariana’s lips curved into a faint, ghost of a smirk before her head lolled to the side again.

“Damn it,” Maya muttered. She glanced at the paramedic driving the ambulance. “How much longer?”

“Two minutes,” the Travis called back.

“Two minutes might as well be two hours,” Maya muttered under her breath. She checked Ariana’s pupils, frowning at the sluggish response. “If she hit her head in there, we’ll need neuro imaging. But right now, the arrhythmia is our top priority.”

Kristie’s breath caught. “You think she hit her head? Maya—”

“We don’t know for sure,” Maya interrupted gently. “But the smoke, the heat, the falling debris—anything’s possible. Carina’s meeting us at the hospital, okay? She’ll help explain everything. You’re not alone in this.”

Kristie nodded, though her heart felt like it might shatter. “You texted her?”

“She’ll be there for you,” Maya said. “You’re part of this family now, Kristie. We take care of our own.”

The ambulance hit a bump, jostling everyone inside. Ariana groaned softly, her eyes flickering open again. “This... sucks,” she whispered.

Kristie let out a tearful laugh, stroking Ariana’s cheek. “Yeah, it does. But you’re going to be fine. You hear me? You’ve got too much attitude to go anywhere.”

Maya grinned faintly, watching the monitor. “She’s stabilizing for now. Let’s hope it holds until we’re at Grey Sloan.”

As the ambulance pulled up to the hospital, the doors swung open, and the trauma team rushed to meet them. Maya climbed out first, barking orders as they transferred Ariana to a gurney.

Kristie hesitated, frozen in the moment, until she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Carina, her face calm but filled with compassion.

“Kristie,” Carina said softly, her Italian accent grounding. “Come. Let them work. You can stay with me. We’ll stay close.”

Kristie nodded, allowing herself to be guided as her world spun around her. “She’s going to be okay, right?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Carina squeezed her shoulder, her voice steady and soothing. “She’s strong. And she has all of us. We won’t let her go without a fight.”

[turned-on-tum-rubs]

Daily reminder not to be in fetish spaces if ur a minor

AND REMINDER TO KICK OUT MINORS FROM FETISH SPACES CUZ A LOT OF YALL DONT DO THAT???

[crippled-peeper]

i dont want to trample on ur emotions/right to be upset at people getting mad at you for not wanting to be called smth, but like. idk the way youre talking about DID is really weird and rubs me the wrong way.

you have every right to be upset at the people in ur inbox calling you heinous shit, but you dont have to attack (online) DID culture because of these people. it's reading very fakeclaim-y

I don’t think you would recognize sarcasm if it punched you in the face

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

My mom just sent a message to the family group chat suggesting that my siblings download the 'For the Strength of Youth' magazine on their Gospel Library app and talked about how much the youth magazines helped her testimony growing up and like, cool. Fine. Don't know why the 'sending random spiritual thoughts in the gc' thing started out of nowhere when it hadn't been a thing for a decade but this is just another one of those, and you're ofc allowed to talk about things that are significant in your life.

I don't think sending the 'What I Did When Someone Close to Me Challenged My Faith' article right afterwards was strictly necessary though 🙃

[chenyann]

WAIT YESNO GONE TOO!?

[amischievouscat]

vent post and tags below the cut don't open if you don't want to hear this cat's woes

remembering the time my ex friend, a trans person, was consistently misgendering Kris from deltarune despite me telling them that Kris is NB and uses neutral pronouns and only changed their tune after they presumably looked it up themselves is really making me Think and Ponder rn

not worried about this unnamed person finding this either because they don't use tumblr to my knowledge and if they do they don't know my handle

further info in tags for anyone who feels like listening lolol

[rafesproperty]

Rafe Cameron x Shy GF <3

Rafe Cameron x Reader + a little platonic Barry x Reader cuz I just love Barry

Soo Rafe is an ESTP, which is probably the most outgoing personality type and they get along with introverts pretty well. Rafe would so adore his shy girl who’s just so dependent on him for everything. Luckily he’s always got you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Topper and Kelce didn’t really understand why would Rafe date you out of all people. You were always quiet, never speaking up, never showing up to parties, and if you did you’d stay glued to your friends' sides and never really speak to anyone.

It baffled them, actually.

But neither Topper or Kelce actually knew Rafe. He didn’t need a wild fire on top of his own messy chaos of a life. He needed the calmness. He didn’t need a girl who’d party her night away and dance with everyone and leave him hangin’ alone. He needed someone who’d be glued to his side, tug at his sleeve and beg for him to stay there and shield her with his body.

He needed someone he could just keep on his lap when he did lines and talked to people, and you'd just stay there, like an obedient scared puppy, playing with his fingers.

He didn’t need a girl that would be outgoing, speak up for herself, independent, talkative with other people. He enjoyed speaking up for you, ordering your food, picking your deliveries up, giving you rides everywhere because you hated public transport, holding you close to him, knowing feeling that you physically desperately need him everywhere with you. Even if you wanted ice cream that was sold two blocks down the street you'd ask him if he'd join you. Call him selfish, but he loves to be the one you constantly need and hide behind. He is obsessed with it. Always ready to provide and protect his girl.

And it’s not like you were like that all the time. The second you two were alone in his car, house or just away from everyone else you were joking around, dancing with him, calling him mocking nicknames like dude, bro, dummy, or the more intimate ones like baby, Rafey, my sweet boy, you'd jokingly call him my husband, my man, my love (all of these worked him up and you knew it), you’d tease the fuck out of him, crawling into his lap like a desperate bitch, grinding on him because you needed him right now. Pulling him in to kiss him. And God, he loved it. To be the only one to see this side of yours.

You were so polite to everyone too, always saying please and thank you in the quietest voice with a blush on your cheeks, but he knew you could be a loud, moaning, dirty mess under him. He knew you could ride him through multiple orgasms with zero shame. Only he knew you rocked your hips desperately against his mouth and squeezed your legs around his head to keep him there. Only he knew you'd get down on your knees and do absolutely everything for him.

You've met Barry a few times whenever Rafe needed cocaine from him and couldn't wait, he'd just drag you along and tell you to stay in the car. But the wait eventually got long and you followed after him.

Barry immediately offered you drugs and Rafe almost broke his face... but this little incident aside you actually clicked with Barry immediately. He wouldn't even let you speak, he just talked away, spilling info and gossip about Rafe as if he wasn't just standing right there.

"Ah shit, and you like this j-crew lookin' ass?" You giggled. "Yeah, I do," you gave Rafe a smile. "A lot."

You and Barry became friends. Rafe wouldn't let you hang out with him alone but the three of you actually hung out a lot at Barrys. He quickly understood how shy you are and he maybe had a little soft spot for you too, keeping an eye on you in public whenever Rafe needed to take care of something quickly.

You were getting a drink with Rafe at the Country Club, Topper and Kelce were there too, when Barry pulled up on his bike and made his way over to the two of you, ignoring all the Kooks that gave him dirty looks.

"Country Cluuuuub princessssss," he yelled in his accent and made his way over to you, "what's good with you girl?" He chuckled as you two did a quick handshake you've taught him.

Rafe rolled his eyes and immediately threw his arm around your shoulders in a protective manner.

Topper and Kelce stared in awe. You, who barely spoke any words to them, were all of a sudden buddies with the drug dealer?

[cosmosredshift7]

if you’re like. 14 and trans on tumblr rn and getting ur first anon hate from terfs. word of advice. stop responding to that shit. theyre only gonna send more, it’s only gonna make you spiral even if you put on a strong face. report + block messages as soon as they come in, don’t let them sit in your inbox it’s gonna make you feel like shit. turn off anon for a few days, block anyone suspicious in your notes liberally for a little while. repeat as needed. don’t give them the time of day. it sucks, but like. i dont know any trans person on the internet with any following who hasn’t gotten some disgusting messages. just. be safe yknow

[dollgxtz]

Getting Closer

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, stalking roleplay, rough sex, taunting, home invasion roleplay, crying, pet names like kitten, and sweetie, spanking

AN: Hiii again! Tyvm for 900 notes on my last story!!! I didn't think dark romance content with Sylus would be popular with ppl (I keep seeing convos about people mis-characterizing him). But honestly I think people should write him however they see fit!! I love seeing different interpretations! However, one things for certain. This man is definitely into primal play and no one can convince me other wise. This is loosely based on the midnight stealth story where he says "You're pretty good at running away" and "I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle, especially when it thinks it can escape from me"

AHHHH ENOUGH TYPING ENJOYYYYY!!! (✿˶’◡˘)♡

Its a late evening and you and your dearest coworker Tara (who you basically considered your bestie at this point) were having a delicious dinner at one of the most high rated restaurants in Linkon. What was the occasion? Nothing special actually, Tara was just an intense foodie and felt the need to drag you to practically every restaurant in the city when she was feeling a particular craving. Not that you minded, it was actually nice to get to do something other than fighting for once. The Wanderers had been getting more frequent lately, and it seemed like every other day you were being called to fight them off.

Tara was busy chatting away about her own exhaustion from work, how badly her last haircut had gone, and some guy she had met on the subway that couldn't seem to leave her alone. You could only giggle as she went on and on about him. Despite her obvious distaste for the guy, you thought he actually seemed pretty well rounded. You had been hesitating on telling her about Sylus. You didn't worry that he was going to leave you for Tara, nothing ridiculous like that. He was just...hard to explain. I mean what could you say?

"Oh yeah, I'm dating the leader of Onychinus, yeah the one that escaped from space prison and rules the N109 Zone...did I mention he probably owns this restaurant? But don't worry he's SUCH a sweet guy if you get to know him!"

Yeah...probably wouldn't go well. You let out an exasperated sigh, looking out of the restaurants tall window. It was a bit chilly tonight, no doubt it would start snowing soon. You turn to Tara again, whose still in the middle of her stories of her bad dates. You're about to ask her if she's ready for the check when your phone rings.

Tara gets a dangerous look in her eye and before you can even blink she snatches your phone off the table and abruptly answers.

"Is this the mysterious handsome boyfriend my friend wont tell me about?" she coos, blocking your attempts to grab your phone. "Tara!! Please!" you exclaim, trying your hardest to not get the attention of the other patrons.

You feel your ears heat up as you get up from the booth. She laughs at something he says as you finally get your device from her grasp. She huffs in amusement from her little joke. You put the phone to your ear to hear Sylus chuckling a bit.

"Sorry ...um, what did you want?" you say lowly, trying to get yourself together.

"I'm guessing that's...Tessa?" Sylus says, clearly amused by the situation. He's got that...tone in his voice. The one he uses when he's toying with you. You feel your face heat up, trying to keep your cool with Tara watching close next to you.

"Tara" you correct, coldly, shooting her a death glare. "She's still got a few screws loose clearly". She giggles at this comment and you sigh.

"She seems pretty funny to me"

"What did you want? I was just about to head ho-"

"I really like your hair today, kitten" Sylus says, his voice seemingly lower and...dark?

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, immediately you begin to scan the restaurant. He hasn't seen you today at all...is he in the restaurant? Is Mephisto outside somewhere tattling again? You scan everywhere but no sight of either one of them.

"Cat got your tongue sweetie?"

You swallow, turning back to the phone. "I see you have nothing better to do than send that damn bird to spy on me again. I'm taking him apart when I find him" you say, trying your hardest to sound calm.

Tara tilts her head in confusion, and you give her an awkward grin. Dammit. You'll have to explain it off as an inside joke or something later. Sylus chuckles again on the other end, sending a million thoughts racing in your head.

"Who said anything about Mephisto? He's back at home, probably resting".

"Then how..." your voice trails off, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. Curse this man, always playing his stupid mind games with you.

"What do you mean how? I can see you of course. How else would I know sweetie?"

Ah...so he is here. He's just hiding from you, probably enjoying the look of your panicked face and you wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.

"That skirt will roll up pretty easy don't you think, kitten?" Sylus says, drawing out every syllable. You can hear the smile through the phone and it infuriates you. But it also forms a knot in your stomach from excitement. He's got you right where he wants you clearly.

You suddenly hang up on him, barely able to bear the tension forming in you heart and stomach. You sigh and turn your attention back to your very worried coworker. "Um...sorry. I think we should probably get the check don't you think? Its late haha..." you trail off, trying to look less stressed. What was that idiot thinking?? There's no way you were gonna do that in public. You try looking through the window again, trying to spot even a tall silhouette somewhere but nothing...where is he???

You feel cold fingers touch your shoulder, and you whip your head to face Tara. "I'm sorry if I made you upset...or him. Is everything okay with you both?" she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion. Your head spins trying to come up with some explanation for your panic. Is there even a good excuse? No way you could tell her that its some kind of sex game you both indulge in right???

"Umm, look its fine!! Nothing to worry about Tara, I forgive you" you say quickly, gathering your things into your bag. "I have to go though, lets get the check yeah?"

Tara, albeit still puzzled, nods her head in agreement. "Lets meet here again next week! But please, if you ever need to talk to me I'm here okay?" she says softly, before leaning in to give you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. You both chat for a bit before the waiter comes with the check, bidding each other goodbye once the bill was settled.

You open the door to the restaurant and shiver as the crisp, early winter air envelopes your body. It wasn't nearly this cold earlier and you curse yourself for picking this stupid thin skirt to wear. The sun has long set and its dark. The moon gives the street a nice glow however, which settles your nerves a little.

Your phone rings.

You stop dead in your tracks, debating if you should even pick up. With shaky fingers, you finally answer.

"You know I don’t like being hung up on, where’s your manners hm?" Sylus asks. You glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see his annoying grin, but there's nothing there. You nod absentmindedly and murmur a quick "whatever" as you keep walking. Maybe if you stay quiet, you’ll catch the sound of his footsteps and figure out his location?

"You're close...aren't you Sylus?" you say, trying to sound confident in your question. In all honesty you had no idea.

"Obviously. I can smell that vanilla perfume I love so much. You should wear it more often"

"Its not really that good of a scent, too sweet. I don't like it..." you mutter, voice shaking as you walk. You hear a crunch behind you and you whip your head around. Unfortunately, its just some stray cats scurrying about near some trash cans. You cant tell whether your relieved or more frightened that its not Sylus.

"We both know that's not true. You always wear it on our dates..." he chuckles through the phone, as if it finds it amusing. "Always trying to impress me, how cute”.

Ah, so he did notice. You found it kind of freaky how observant he was sometimes. He probably knew you better than yourself at times. But this confirmed something very important. He was close, close enough to smell you. Did you pass by him by accident and didn't notice? You start walking a bit faster, hoping to catch the last subway home before in leaves the station.

"Zip it" you growl into the phone. You look up ahead, spotting some mirrors being displayed in some glass displays. Ah hah...maybe you'll see glimpses of him if you stop by?

You abruptly stop in front of one of the mirrors, pretending to admire your appearance.

"Do you think I should wear my hair like this more often Sylus?" you ask, narrowing your eyes to look in the reflection. There is someone, but its not Sylus. Just a disheveled looking guy smoking a cigarette.

"Using the reflection are we? What a clever little kitten you are...~"

He hangs up.

You spin around, hoping to catch sight of him. I mean c'mon, he's over 6ft, wide shoulders, and white hair. He should be easy to spot, even in the dark. But again, nothing.

But you know he's still watching you. You can feel it. You begin to hug yourself, partly out of fear but also out of being cold. You needed to hurry if you didn't want to be stuck walking the rest of the way to your apartment.

Part of you didn't want to admit it but this was exciting. You liked Sylus when he was sweet yes...but you liked it more when he was dangerous. You keep up a slightly fast pace, trying to keep your head on a swivel. You battle between feeling scared and confident, your stomach in shambles.

You turn your head as you enter the crowd of people waiting to board the subway. All of them seemingly tired and needing somewhere to be. You swipe your subway pass through the gate lock and it opens.

Your phone rings again, and out of instinct you hang up on him. Then you get an idea. You call back.

The distinct ring tone of Sylus's phone can barely be heard over the noise of people chattering but you hear it!! You strain to hear it but it only rings once before he picks up.

"You always manage to impress me with how clever you are. Too bad it won't save you in the end...will it?" Sylus chuckles.

"Quit talking and stop hiding prick" you spat, looking around.

"Ah ah ah, patience sweetie. Unless you want me to take what's mine in front of all these people?"

You can tell by Sylus's tone that he's losing his resolve. More importantly his patience. No doubt he'd be turning up the intensity of yall's little game very soon. You shiver, imagining you pinned underneath him, whining and mewling from his cock while people pass.

"What's your plan kitten?" he asks, the sounds of brakes and doors opening echoing through the phone. "I know where you live, I know what turns you make, what your street looks like. You know you can't outrun me"

"Ha, well I know that you cant hide forever, Sylus" you say triumphantly. You step onto the subway, trying your hardest to push past people.

That's when you see it. The white hair, the red eyes. Your gazes find each other almost instantly. Despite walking into your trap, Sylus's mouth forms an almost villainous grin and he starts taking strides towards you. The door shuts behind him.

You hang up.

Thankfully, people pile behind you, giving you some cover from him. You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him closely. He's wearing a black turtleneck with a brown winter jacket made somewhat of leather. He's broad, and tall and yet blends in fine with the people around him.

You watch as he scans every face and seat he passes. You attempt to back up but are met with a few disgruntled people telling you to stop pushing. You're trapped. Panicking, you try to think. Maybe you could get off a stop early? No, he'd definitely get to your place before you. You have to get home and lock the doors, maybe barricade if you have to. All you can do is think to press yourself against the glass doors to hopefully be the first one off.

You turn around, and realize he's staring you down intently. Somehow he had made his way right behind you without you noticing. He towers above you, blocking your view of other people.

Shit shit shit.

His expression, once smug, now drops. His eyes glare at you from under his brow. You feel frozen, like a deer in headlights. Like true prey. All you can think to do in the moment is turn back around, avoiding his gaze. Sure, he's got you pinned now. But he won't do anything with all these people around right?

You feel him lean down, breath hot against your ear.

"Did you really think you could escape from me?" he growls, trailing a finger down the curve of your spine. You shiver from his touch, your instincts screaming at you to bolt away from him immediately.

"I do like to play with my prey a little...but you know I always find you" he says, resting a hand on your hip now. Your shaking now, whether from fear or excitement, you don't really know. He's so close you can feel the hardness of his erection against your ass. He's definitely at his limit now.

Not wanting him to think he's won just yet, you remain silent and whip your head away from him. You look at the faces of your fellow passengers but no one seems to notice you. They're all busy engrossed in their phones or conversations.

"No ones going to help you kitten". He mocks. He gets even closer, resting his arm on the wall beside you, angling his body so no one can see you. He takes his free hand and slides it under your shirt, caressing your soft tummy, up to your belly button, eventually settling on the roundness of your breasts.

You desperately try to reach up to remove his hands but of course to no avail, it doesn't work. You feel heat rising to your face...but not only there. An aching, hot feeling in the core of your stomach and between your legs engulfs you.

"Sylus...really? Here?" you ask, voice shaking, trying your best to hold in a whimper. Sylus doesn't answer, only continuing touch your breasts. His thumb and index finger rests on one of your nipples, pinching it slightly. You nearly drop to the ground, pain and pleasure sweeping through your core.

'What's wrong? I can touch you wherever and whenever I please" he says plainly, continuing his assault on your nipple. "You're mine".

As if trying to prove a point, his hands comes off your breast and dips underneath your skirt. He swiftly but roughly begins to press his fingers against your pussy over the fabric of your underwear. You gasp at the suddenness of the assault, your knees threatening to buck underneath you. You grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him but he ignores you.

"I should just take you right here. What do you think sweetie?" he whispers in your ear, clearly enjoying the sight of your distraught face.

As if the universe decided to grant mercy on you, the robotic voice of the intercom suddenly announces the name of your stop.

The doors open. You lose your balance, but quickly recover before you eat gravel. You don't even bother to look behind you, you just start bolting, trying to put as much distance between you and Sylus as you can.

"Aww, kitten where are you going? We're just getting started" Sylus chimes from behind you. No doubt not even bothering to chase after you. You knew he'd catch up in his own ways. Ignoring him, you keep bolting, all that track during high school thankfully being good for something.

You make a sharp turn into an alley, your stamina beginning to falter but you know you cant stop. Your phone rings, and in a burst of anger you answer.

"Quit calling!" your voice a mix of anger, desperation and fear, which gives Sylus a good chuckle once more. He's completely unphased by your little tantrum.

"I must ask, why pick an alley? Are you trying to make this easy for me?" he teases.

You turn your head, almost gasping when you see the familiar silhouette of Sylus.

Then he moves. Long, quick strides and he's already closed the distance between you two. He's whistling a familiar tune, no doubt from one of his many records. You recognize it almost immediately, its one of your favorites. But now rather than soothing, its just rather unnerving.

You snap out of your frozen state and keep bolting, narrowly missing Sylus's attempt to grab your hair.

"My kitten is still fairly quick, I see. Good job sweetie" he praises, his footsteps still not far behind you. You know his words are made mockingly. He could've easily grabbed you with his Evol if he wanted to. He's simply toying with you now. Playing with his food.

You turn sharply out of the alleyway, the sight of the gates to your apartment building in view. Safety. Its so close. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind whips past your face as you push your body past its limits. The night is even colder now with the sweat pouring all down your body. Your hair is even sticking to your neck and face now but all you can think about is bolting up the stairs and locking yourself away.

You made it to the base of the stairs, wasting no time to run up the stairs. There it is.

You hear footsteps behind you.

The door. Now. GO. You dash through your doorway, cursing yourself about why the door was even unlocked in the first place. But in this situation? It was a blessing in disguise.

That was the fastest you had ever locked a door in your life. You scanned the room making quick work of pushing the sofa against the door and a few chairs.

You collapse.

Your breathes come in uneven, staccato bursts, sweat having drenched your shirt by now. You rip it off over your head, the clamminess unbearable. Now only in your bra and skirt, you're able to breathe a bit. As you start to collect your thoughts, you freeze.

Wait. The balcony.

Fuck.

You get up quickly, rounding the corner to lock the balcony doors. Thankfully, they're still shut when you reach over to lock it.

Yes!! You won?? Did he give up?

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your ac humming for a few short moments. You start to question if Sylus actually did leave you alone, when your phone suddenly rings. You answer it. confidence ringing in your voice.

"I win Sylus. Thanks for the little game though" you retort, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks. His voice is cool and calm. "How sure are you that you got to the balcony before I did?"

"Wha-I would've heard you Sylus..." you say with uncertainty. You weren't sure anymore. You look around. Your apartment isn't the biggest. No way he got in here without you noticing.

"Would you have heard me?"

"Pfft. You don't scare me" you spat, backing away from the balcony doors.

You hear him chuckle. "I guess I almost had you didn't I?". You make your way towards your the middle of your living room.

"Say...what do you think would've happened if I caught you kitten?"

Your thoughts stir in your nearly silent apartment. You aren't sure how to answer him, anxiety knotting in your stomach. You start making your way to your bedroom, with your face towards the balcony, watching it with intensity.

"Surprise...~"

You nearly jump out of your skin, a scream ripping through your throat as large arms wrap around your waist and lift you. Sylus is quick to cover your mouth, dragging your kicking and distraught form towards your bedroom.

He got in before you. Of course he did. He can be lightening fast after all.

You bite his hand, hard. He simply chuckles, causing you to get even more desperate.

"Let me go!" you yell.

"Sure sweetie" he drops you to the ground, giving you a small window of opportunity to run. You try, but he instantly grabs your hair, twisting it into his grip. You yelp, tears forming from the sudden pain. The more you struggle the more it hurts. You desperately try removing his hand but of course he doesn't budge.

He watches you with a pitiful look, rolling his eyes.

"So fucking predictable, as usual"

He starts dragging you across the hard marble floor. Your scalp feels like its on fire, each and every strand being stressed with every pull. He finally reaches your bedroom, wasting no time to bend you over the bed. You push back against him, attempting to kick him. He pulls your head back by your hair. You nearly scream, letting out a sob. Tears stream down your face as you try to look at him, pleading.

"Please, I'm sorry. Please don't" you beg. He simply laughs. You feel his Evol wrapping around you.

"None of those are safe words sweetie"

You choke back on tears. You're practically soaked now. And it wasn't sweat. You feel utterly helpless, trapped underneath him, begging to be freed. He reaches up a hand, undoing the clasps of your bra with one hand. Its falls off your chest effortlessly, leaving you exposed.

"Thanks for making this part easy. Though this skirt is still in the way" he mutters. He pins you to the bed, rolling your skirt up to reveal the skin of your ass.

"Sylus...please" you whimper. Your only answer from him is the sudden sting from a sudden slap to the ass. You yelp in pain, the hot achiness between your legs rising. He rips your underwear in two with swiftness.

"Sylus, please" he mocks, you can hear the grin on his face. 'Telling me you don't want this and yet your dripping all down your leg"

He slides a finger along your cunt, making your legs buck. He rolls a finger around your cunt a few times, earning a symphonies of moans from you. You're already desperate to cum and he's barely done anything to you. Breath ragged, legs shaking, your about to beg him to let you finish when he suddenly pulls away.

???

You're confused until you hear the sound of his belt unbuckle. Is he...going to fuck you already? Not that your disappointed at all. You brace yourself for a sudden intrusion when your met with the sharp sting. You yelp, the surprise of the attack sending shivers down your body. But he doesn't stop, he hits your ass again. And again. Then again. And again.

You feel like your about to pass out. The pain is overwhelming all your senses. But part of you doesn't want him to stop. Your sure you have belt shaped bruises littering your ass by now. The tears have completely clouded your vision. You cant see a thing.

"You're so pretty when you cry sweetie. So pretty~". Sylus reaches a hand up to your faces and wipes some tears away. He leans over, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"Are you doing okay?" his tone is soft, his expression a mix of wonder and worry. You nod enthusiastically, letting him know you're still enjoying this.

"Aw. Lets change that shall we?" he says, his soft expression turning into a smug grin. Your smile drops and your heart starts pound again.

This bastard.

He gives you one last hard whip to the ass before you hear the belt drop to the floor. Then the sound of him unzipping of his pants follows. Your pulse quickens in anticipation. You can't move though, his evol keeping you firmly in place. He puts his hand back in your hair, tugging just enough to remind you of your place beneath him. You feel him align his hips with yours.

"Sylus, I-"

Then he's pushing into you. You're so wet that all it takes is one fluid motion and he's in. Doesn't hurt any less though. You stifle a scream, trying desperately through your tears to beg him to pull out. His pace is deep and slow. It feels almost akin to torture. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot, building a painful high in your abdomen. The hour of teasing and adrenaline rush has you beyond overstimulated, you feel ready to burst at any moment but its not enough stimulation. You stay bordering on the edge of heaven, and yet he doesn't allow you to cross over. It feels like hours as he keeps getting you right to the tip of finishing and then slows down. It hurts so bad, and your crying over and over.

"Sylus...it hurts" you whimper.

"Its supposed to"

"Sylus...please" you beg, your voice shaking from desperation.

"Calm down kitten"

"Sylus-'

"I said calm yourself. Or I'll stop now. Do you want that?"

You whimper in disagreement, face planting into the bed once more. Sylus lifts your head by the chin, leaning down to give you a small kiss on the cheek. You look so beautiful right now, the puffiness and red of your eyes turning him on even more. He speaks, his voice hard and cold.

"Always so greedy. Spoiled brat."

With little to no warning, he slams his cock into your aching cunt. You gasp in shock, but have no time to process anything as he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust. Your so overstimulated that it only takes a few thrusts to make you cum. Your body tenses and shakes as you come undone on his cock. Your moaning while gasping for air, feeling the best you've ever felt and yet on the verge of passing out.

Sylus feels your cunt tighten so hard around him that he can't help but also come undone himself. You hear a small and faint "Fuck..." but your head is spinning too much to hear much else. You're in a trance practically.

You feel the stickiness of his cum dripping down your thigh and then your out like a light. Adrenaline and overstimulation had gotten the best of you. Sylus chuckles and gently lifts you onto your bed, pulling the sheets over your worn out body.

When you wake up, your eyes and head hurt so so bad. Your vision is blurry too. You attempt too blink the blurriness away.

Sylus.

You sit up, looking for him. Did he leave already? You look at the clock, the red hue of the lights read that its three in the morning.

"S-sylus?" you whimper, feeling slightly abandoned.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm here. Its cute watching you search for me though" he says, his figure appearing in the doorway. He's holding a water bottle and a wet rag. He sits next to you, and starts gently wiping the dried tears from your face. You look down, your thighs still a sticky mess of cum, sweat and desperation from earlier. Sylus smiles a bit, laughing under his breath.

"I figured I could run you a shower when you woke up" he says, stretching out his hand for you. "Although the plumbing here is...less than adequate I guess I could join you".

You roll your eyes, laughing at his dumb remark before taking his hand in yours. You cant help but crack a smile.

"Yeah, lets go"

[motomamita]

loser!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, cunnilingus, sex!

loser!könig

a simple photo of your breasts was enough for könig to become the most submissive and needy being in the entire universe. And how to blame him? It was the first time that a girl agreed to have a conversation with him without leaving him in seen or blocking him.

from that moment on, not a day went by when könig sent you a good morning message or a photo of his fat cock showing through his jeans. sometimes you ignored him or took a while to respond, but he always answered instantly. könig didn't mind staying up late talking to you or having to look at his cell phone constantly waiting for your response, he loved the little attention you gave him.

some nights he would surprise you by sending you videos of him masturbating while moaning your name and telling you in an agitated voice how much he needed you there with him. he set your photo as his wallpaper and, sooner rather than later, asked for your bank account information to send you money every time you delayed responding.

soon könig proposed that you meet him in his city, he wanted to meet you in person. you hesitated at his proposal but soon changed your mind when you noticed the amount of money he had sent you, it was enough to pay for a plane ticket to his city. it was all paid for, so how can you say no?

you met könig in a hotel room that he had reserved for both of you. in photos he looked huge and in person it was even more so. he covered almost the entire door frame, his muscles were visible through his t-shirt and his face expressed absolute desire. in his hand he carried a bouquet of roses that he had bought especially to receive you and a bottle of champagne.

you both didn't talk much. there was no need either, you both knew what you were going for.

könig had you under him, hugging your bare legs preventing you from escaping while his big cock entered and exited you. your pussy stretched deliciously with each thrust while your clitoris rubbed against his skin. könig breathed close to your face, fixing his gaze on every expression of pleasure and how you desperately asked him to slow down a little.

"cutie, i can't stop, i can't..."

könig increased the speed of his thrusts, sinking you into the mattress and approaching your face to kiss you desperately. your tongues played with each other and his alcoholic breath invaded you completely.

"are you going to cum? uh? i can feel your pussy squeezing my fat cock. come on, cum in my mouth."

könig pulled out of you and brought his mouth to your wet pussy. he licks and sucks every part of your folds like he's wanted to do it for a long time, and he did. he brought his large hands to your thighs and squeezed them tightly, preventing you from closing your legs.

you pulled his hair hard as your orgasm hit. könig moaned over your pussy and tried to collect all your flavor with his tongue.

before you could react, he sat up and positioned himself on top of you jerking his cock quickly while moaning your name. in a matter of seconds his abundant warm cum fell onto your belly and a moan of relief left his mouth.

"fuck, cutie... now, can you let me cum inside you, please, please?"

with a face like that, how can you refuse? :(

[libidinous-weeb]

i…i thought it was about making fun of adults because they sound like inexperienced teenagers who are shocked and aghast at even the mention of sex. i didn’t know ya’ll were actually on god pressed about what a literal child thinks about doin the nasty??

as someone very pro dark content (obviously) these 25+ year old pro shippers’ obsession with wacking ‘puriteens’ is weird to me. the term puriteen in general is weird to me