#I've heard that even with a mask it hurts to breathe

[blueberycow]

the smoke from the Canadian wild fires might reach Maine this weekend due to the front that's been protecting us from it temporarily being gone. it won't be as bad as places like New York but it will likely still reach us. nothing bad ever happens in Maine. it's always been one of the safe states, in any situation. I'm a bit worried honestly.

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

[empresskylo]

I don't know if you take requests but I would love a fic where Ghost returns hurt badly and the doc tells him not to make any effort, so in return reader needs to ride him during ✨️their time✨️

I would really appreciate it 🫶🏻 love you and your writing 🫶🏻🩷

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 sure can. thank u for this because i am now obsessed with the idea of a hurt ghost who wants you so desperately that he doesn't even care about the pain and lets you ride him slowly 😩

⋆｡°✩CONTENT WARNINGS | afab!reader, feminine pet names used, smut! 18+ (2k words)

cod masterlist | main masterlist

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖

“Come’re,” Simon mumbled towards you. You came to sit beside him on his bed where he’d likely be stationed for the next week or so given the extent of his injuries.

His large hands brushed over your hips and tugged you towards him. You giggled, letting him pull you against him, trying your hardest to avoid putting any pressure on his shoulder wound that had fresh stitches just begging to rip.

“Simon, be careful,” you muttered into his chest as his arms wrapped firmly around you.

He hummed into your hair, his fingers stroking the soft skin of your upper arm. He didn't care about the pain, he just missed you and wanted your body against his.

You played with the fabric of his dark grey t-shirt, relishing in the way the man that was usually strapped to the nines in military gear was stripped almost bare. His mask had been forgotten, all his tactical gear tucked beside his bed. He had on black sweatpants and a t-shirt. That was it. His hair was disheveled from being locked away in his mask and then promptly shoved against a pillow while repairs were made to his arm.

Simon wasn’t usually the most touchy person, but something about being injured made him want to have you all over him—probably the drugs—and he was desperate to have you. He didn't care if his arm groaned in pain.

His hand wandered lower on your body, the faint glow from the hall subtly illuminating the two of you alone in the infirmary for the night.

“Simon,” you warned as his hand gripped your ass.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he said smoothly.

You titled your head to look up at him, his dark eyes still smudged with black paint.

His face was stoic but you could see something kindling in his eyes. You shifted your arm to stretch across his stomach and felt your hand brush against something hard…

“You don’t want your stitches to come out,” you said softly, knowing where this was going. Leave it to Simon to be horny only hours after returning from a brutal mission, his shoulder wrapped and bandaged from a bullet wound.

“Hm?” He hummed pretending not to heed your warnings. His arms tried to hike you up closer to him, wanting you to straddle his waist, when you heard him grunt in frustration.

You rolled your eyes, sitting up on your own. “Stop moving. The doc said you needed rest,” you said with a grin forming on your lips.

Simon relaxed back against the pillow and watched you curiously as you shuffled on top of him, a knee on either side of his hips. His arms couldn’t stop themselves as he reached out and gripped your exposed hips, your shirt riding up.

“Let me take care of you for once,” your voice was barely above a whisper, sending a chill up Simon’s spine. He was always the one to take control. He liked being the one in power. Liked to toss you around and make demands. But now, with his arm injured, you were going to be the one in command tonight.

His fingers aimlessly traced circles on your hips as you leaned down and connected your lips to his. The kiss started sweet and gentle before you both fought for dominance, his tongue swirling yours, his teeth grazing your lips, one of his hands coming up to pull your head further into him.

You desperately reached down between your bodies and palmed Simon through his sweatpants eliciting a groan from him that you quickly swallowed.

"Fuck, I've missed you," he said with a husky breath before kissing you again. You smiled against his lips.

"Mmm," you hummed against him. "What did you miss the most?" You slowly worked him above his pants, his hips ever so slightly rocking into your hand.

"Your scent," he grumbled.

You pulled away, breaking the kiss to look at his dark eyes that somehow managed to look black. You were caught a bit off guard, a small laugh escaping you. "What?"

He used his good arm as his hand slid up your side and pushed the hair that he had messed up behind your ear. "The way you smell. I didn't realize how much I loved the way you smelt like rain and goddamn sugar cookies until I was surrounded by Soap, Price, and Gaz for weeks, in the middle of fuckin' summer."

You giggled again, running your hand through his hair as he stared at you, his gaze never wavering.

"And that laugh. God how I missed hearing that." His hand slid over to your breast, gently groping it in his hand. "And your warm body tucked against mine at night. Slept like shit without you."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he kneaded your flesh, his kind words sending butterflies in your stomach.

"I fuckin' missed everything, pet."

You hummed in contentment, his hand moving back to the hem of your shirt, edging it upwards. You opened your eyes and tore your shirt off, then your bra, leaving you exposed to him. He groaned in satisfaction as he took in your bare chest. His hand gripped your neck and pulled you in for a kiss before he urged you up slightly so he could take your nipple into his mouth.

"Simon," you breathed through a moan as he sucked and nipped at you. You rocked your hips against him, his hard length feeling wonderful against your clothed center.

He released your nipple and kissed up to your neck, his hands brushing against the hem of your pants. "Need these off, love."

You obliged, shuffling your pants off awkwardly before settling on top of him again. He squeezed your ass in his hands, his teeth grazing your bottom lip.

You were very happy you decided to wear one of your less practical pair of panties. Simon slid his fingers along the tiny strap of your black and dainty thong before brushing over your clit. You mewled, burrowing your face in his neck as he rubbed his fingers up and down you.

He pushed your underwear aside and his fingers teased your entrance before you stopped him. You wanted to take care of him tonight. Not the other way around.

You trailed your hands down his chest, his shirt taut against his muscles, the hem riding up and exposing the V by his hips.

You licked your lips as you pulled him out of his sweats and underwear, his cock springing free. He watched you intently as you took the tip of him in your mouth, his hands running through your hair, gripping it in his fist when you took him in fully.

He moaned darkly as you slid your tongue around him while you bobbed your head up and down.

"Fuckin' hell, baby," he grunted in sparring breaths.

It didn't take long as you hollowed out your cheeks and let him hit the back of your throat before he pulled you off him. He had been without you for so long that he had been dreaming about being inside you. It was all he could think about. He needed you.

His thumb wiped along your bottom lip as you caught your breath. He smirked mischievously as he pulled you in for another kiss.

You reached down between your bodies and shifted your underwear to the side, too impatient to take them off. He stroked his fingers against your cunt, mumbling to himself. "Fuckin' hell, you're soaked."

He fisted his cock, using your juices for lub, and helped to line you up with him. Your hand met his as you directed him, sitting down slowly. His head breached your entrance making you gasp. You heard Simon hum while you took him in painfully slow.

By the time you were fully seated, your nails were digging into his chest and your breathing was unsteady. Simon rubbed circles on your hips where his hands rested. "Take your time, baby," he said soothingly.

You tilted your head up to look at him and he pushed your hair out of your face before hooking his hand behind your neck and bringing you down to kiss him. As the kiss deepened, you instinctively rolled your hips making him grunt.

"Shit," he grumbled against your lips. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily onto his skin, his good arm wrapped tightly around you, and you began to rise up, feeling every ridge of his cock inside you.

"Jesus, baby. You feel fuckin' amazing," he said hoarsely. You mewled against him as you took up speed, trying to be gentle enough to not hurt his bad shoulder

"God.. Simon.. I missed you," you said through panting breaths. Simon gripped your ass firmly in his hands, allowing you to hit slightly deeper, making you let out a startled moan.

"I missed you too, sweet girl," he breathed against your lips. You connected your lips to his and swallowed each other's moans and gasps.

You hadn't even touched yourself since Simon left so you knew you weren't going to last long. You could feel the warmth pool in your lower belly, shocks of electricity shooting up your spine and chest whenever Simon hit that particular spot inside you.

The only sound in the dark room was your ragged breathing and the slight slap of your body as you collided against him. Your clit seemed to hit his skin in the perfect way that shocks coursed through you each time you sat down.

His arm around your waist began to help hoist your down to meet his hips, making you both break the kiss in a heady gasp. "Oh my god," you breathed.

"You close, pet?"

You nodded your head impatiently, squeezing your eyes closed as you felt your entire body fill with pleasure and love.

"Look at me, baby," he said. You fluttered your eyes open to look at Simon's whose were dark and looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him in this world. "I wanna watch as I make you come," he said, his hand fisting your hair as he tried to control himself to not finish before you did.

You nodded again, unable to speak in coherent words.

"Fuck--Gah, fuck," he growled, feeling himself grow dangerously close. "Come for me, love. Please," he begged, not wanting to finish until he felt you clench around him.

You groaned, your arms going weak against him, having to use all your strength to keep bouncing up and down. "Simon," you whispered as your walls tensed around him, crushing him almost painfully. That was enough to send Simon over the edge with you, coming inside you as you babbled and whined, your walls clenching and unclenching, sending intense waves of pleasure through Simon.

"Thats it, baby," he managed through grunts. You collapsed against his chest as you lazily kept riding him up and down, his hand cradling your head, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he continued to come in spurts.

"Fuckin' hell," he groaned, stopping your hips from moving to avoid overstimulation. He held you close as you both tried to catch your breath, both of your eyes heavy, your bodies spent.

He ran soothing patterns against your back as you lay against him, smiling in contentment.

"Stay the night?" he asked in an almost plea. As if you might say no.

It wasn't long after that you were curled up against Simon, your legs intertwined with his, your head tucked under his chin, his arm gripping him closely, that you both fell asleep.

[mercedista]

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓⠀⠀⠀→⠀⠀⠀𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:⠀A killer breaks into your room, except he doesn't kill you. Well, that's one of the pros of being his girlfriend, even if you don't know that behind the mask is your boyfriend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒):⠀Porn with plot, horror, non-con, dub-con, mention of murder, threat, poor smut, squirting, toxic relationship.

𝐀/𝐍: Part one for more context. Also, I haven't proofread the content, I don't have any experience with smut and English is not my first language. Keep it in mind.

"Open your fucking mouth, before I make you pay for what you did with your own life." Not that there was any other option, he gave your cheek a light slap, just as a silent warning, and as soon as you opened it, he stuck his fingers in. It was a disgusting sensation for you, that glove rubbing against your tongue as you were forced to watch him use his other hand to open a little of the cape he was wearing and then his own pants.

You knew what to expect, and your vision became blurry again with tears.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and pushed the back of your head against his cock. You didn't want to notice, much less compare, but there was no way you couldn't, he was big. Maybe as big as your boyfriend.

"You've lost your choice, slut." Your thoughts were interrupted by his cock entering until he felt your throat squeezing it. You fought against it, not having prepared yourself, and not having any experience. You didn't know if that pain was normal, if it was his exaggerated size, or just the result of him being too violent with the thrust.

He held your head against him for a few seconds, before letting go and allowing you to catch your breath. But as soon as you recovered – a matter of only five seconds – he was already making you swallow his cock again. "Back to work."

At least he seemed to be having a little more mercy now, continuing to pump your head on his cock, while he threw his back each time your tongue dragged against a vein of his. His hair was already sweaty beneath that mask. "Fuck...!"

His breathing was heavy, but his throat was still forced to wait a few minutes that seemed more like hours until he finally reached his peak.

You were already dizzy, your head hurting, when he pushed your head back, ordering you to stick your tongue out. "I'm going to paint your pretty lips, baby."

The salty splashes touched your tongue, you felt disgusting, you wanted to spit it all out. Not because of the taste, but because of the guilt you felt for being used, even though you had no responsibility for it. "It's not over yet, doll."

Pulling you by the neck, he threw you on the bed, your face sinking against the pillow, while you only heard the clink of more parts of his clothes falling to the floor. "Please, just kill me already... I can’t–" You begged one last time, sobbing, fearing the worst that was to come.

"Don't cry, princess." He said, his voice surprisingly human now. And definitely familiar, more than you would have expected. You felt his hands turn your body, and through the tears that blurred your vision, you recognized the face of your dear boyfriend. If you could still call him that. "Surprise, I guess?" The look of horror that once again crossed his face was divine, and even better with the small sobs that passed through his lips.

"Did I scare you? I went easy on you, baby. I've done worse to my victims." He said, spreading your legs. Without any warning, he thrust into you, a growl escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench around his cock. "But you know... I'm faithful, I've never fucked them like that, if that makes you feel any better."

He wasn't being as delicate with his thrusts as his tone of voice was deceiving, his skin slapping against yours without any mercy. Your boyfriend bit the tip of his glove, ripping it off and throwing it to the side, leaving his bare hand to slap dangerously close to your clit. "I'm glad... that you chose to stay faithful as well..." He said, giving a particularly violent thrust, which made you grunt between sobs. He pressed his uncovered face against your neck, nibbling on it as he continued to fuck you. "I didn't mean to test you, but hell...! I fucking love you."

He said smiling. Your faces were so close, he squeezed your waist. You felt his tongue lick a tear that ran down your cheek. He loves you alive and well, of course, despite his sadism. But, the thought of you cheating on him just to save yourself? He would kill you before you had the chance to do that. "Fuck." He bit his lip. "Such a good little fucktoy. Taking my cock like a champ. You're still as tight as the day I fucked you for the first time."

You closed your eyes, trying to find some semblance of sanity amidst the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that were running through your body at that moment.

"Aw, baby, look at me. Think of how good..." His boyfriend paused, moaning. "How good it feels now... There are no more secrets between us. Like it always should have been."

"You're a damn murderer... you lied to me...!" You snapped, biting your lip then to make a moan die in your throat. "And now you expect... me to forgive you–"

You were interrupted by a sudden movement, he turned you around again, without even making much effort, and put you on all fours. "Silence, now. For someone who was crying minutes ago, you're talking too much." He grunted, slapping your ass, rubbing his cock, still hard, against it. "Shut your pretty mouth, or I'll fuck the little hole you don't like."

He chuckled at the irritated noise you made before he slid his cock back into your entrance. "Now why don't we start over, and you thank me for being a good boyfriend and not opening your throat with a knife after that kick?"

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you as he hugs you waist, pressing his body against your back. The pain from his rough thrusts is intertwined with a sickening sense of pleasure, and the realization that he's truly capable of such violence sends shivers down your spine.

"Too... much..." You manage to choke out, your voice barely audible above the sound of your boyfriend's grunts and the creaking of the bed.

He seems to take pity on you, or perhaps he's simply enjoying watching you tremble and humiliate youself. Either way, he slow down a bit, but continues to pound into you, his grip on your hips tightening. "That's a good girl," he purrs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're learning your place." As he speaks, you feel his cock twitch inside you, and you know he's close to climax. "God, I can't even imagine what it's like to fuck your ass..."

Tears stream down your face as you try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much you're enjoying being used. But it's no use; the pleasure is too intense, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

Suddenly, he pulls out of you, and you feel cold and empty without him inside. Before you can protest, he flips you over onto your back and climbs on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head.

He leans down and captures your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and claiming you in the most intimate way possible. "You're so easy to play around with, like a doll, so easy for me to put you in any position." At the same time, he lines up his cock with your entrance and slams back inside, burying himself to the hilt in one movement. The pain from his grip on your wrists mixes with the pleasure of his cock hitting your sweet spot.

He let go of your wrists and reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly. "Tell me, have you ever let another man touch you like this?"

You shake your head frantically. "No..." You whimper.

He chuckles darkly, his hand sliding down to rub your clit. "Good... good fucking answer." he purrs, his fingers circling the sensitive nub. "Because if you ever let another man touch this tight little cunt, I'll fucking kill you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but wonder if he's serious. But the thought of him being jealous and possessive only turns you on more. And you hated yourself for it.

"Oh?" He mocks, giving your cunt a sharp slap. "Did you just get tighter? You fucking freak." Your boyfriend couldn't help but smile at his pretty girl.

"Y-You're imagining things..." You try to deny it, saving a shred of dignity that was still left, but it was just so hard, you can feel every inch of his cock as it slides in and out of your sore, sensitive flesh. 

He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and you cry out. "I don't have time to baby you," he growls, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force.

Right now, he was only concerned with his own orgasm. Maybe he himself was already tired of all that edging. You can feel your orgasm building, your walls clenching around his throbbing cock as he drives into you relentlessly. Just as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls out, leaving you empty and desperate, his cock spurting cum all over your pussy and stomach. It made you tremble just with the mere contact of his tip over your clit.

Even without having reached your orgasm, you were dizzy from all the stimulation and tired, without much strength to move. So you were expecting the same from him, but a few seconds after cumming, he was already moving again, making you groan. He moves down your body, his tongue tracing a path from your neck to your belly.

"Aw, my poor baby..." he coos, his breath hot against your skin. "You didn't get to cum, did you?"

You shake your head weakly, too exhausted to form words. He smiles at you, his eyes filled with a wicked gleam. You were already too tired to fight, and you just wanted to cum already, it didn't matter if you had to beg or cry for it.

You can feel the heat of his breath as he moves lower and lower, until he's positioned between your legs. He spreads them, exposing your sensitive, swollen clit. He takes a moment to admire his handiwork, the sight of your glistening pussy making his cock twitch with renewed interest

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "So desperate." He dips his head down and starts to lap at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. You moan, your hips bucking up against his face as he continues to tease you. He chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

He slips a finger into your pussy, pumping it in and out as he continues to suck on your clit. You can feel your orgasm building once again, your walls clenching around his finger as he works you closer to the edge.

Your boyfriend increases the pressure on your clit, his tongue flicking rapidly against the sensitive bundle of nerves, your body tensing as you prepare for the inevitable release. Your hand went to his hair, fingers tangling with his beautiful locks, he chuckled against your pussy, before going back to his work. You barely had time to warn him, your body shook in ecstasy as you felt yourself squirt. Your heart was racing and your vision was blurry, your chest rising and falling in search of air.

Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise as he feels your pussy clench and release around his finger, your juices gushing out and coating his chin. He pulls back, looking up at you with a mixture of shock and excitement on his face. His voice woke you up from your trance.

"Holy shit, did you just squirt?" he exclaims, his voice filled with awe and disbelief. "I've never seen you do that before!"

He grins at you, his face glistening with your juices, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride at the effect you've had on him. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning, his eyes sparkling with joy and anticipation. "That was so fucking hot!" he says, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "I want to see you do it again." He was already going back between her legs.

"No, no, no! Fuck, I am sensitive, you dumbass...!" Your mind barely processed what you said, and when you realized it, you didn't expect him to listen to you, but he did. With a sad exaggerated expression, but he obeyed, at least.

"Aw, but I was having so much fun." he pouts, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of sadness.

He crawls up your body, resting his head on your chest, his ears pressed against your heart. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, rising and falling with each beat of your heart.

"I'm sorry, baby..." he murmurs, his voice soft, but you knew it was just another one of his attempts at manipulation. You were already used to it enough to recognize it. "I just wanted to play around a bit, I didn't expect things to unfold this way."

"Be quiet or get out of here." You snapped, eyes closing. "You better kill me before I wake up with energy again, because you're going to pay for all this shit."

He faced you, his hand resting on your waist as he observed how upset you were. Which, to be fair, he should have expected. "Come on, baby," he murmured, as if he were pleading for you to talk to him, but it only sounded like mocking. "I made you cum, didn't I?"

When you didn't answer him, he continued. "We both know you'll forgive me before the morning, princess."

Of course he expected you'd let him get away with this. As you always did. But he didn't blame you—he would always find a way to manipulate you, because it suited him so much more.

"You'll be lucky if I even look you in the face after all this, let alone forgive you." You said and covered yourself with the blanket, pushing him away from you and laying with your back to him.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, having to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He knew you'd give in and forgive him... eventually.

"That's cute." He said, with a scoff. "You act like you have any choice." He said, standing up and picking up his clothes. He stared at his mask, wondering whether to take it or not, but smiled, deciding to leave it as a reminder for you.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

what about the 141 boys and konig rejecting the reader to keep things professional but when she starts getting closer with someone on base they try to get her back

Thanks for this one. I hope this is what you were looking for!🙂

141 + König Rejecting Reader, Then Regretting It

Warnings: angst, fluff at the end, swearing, crying

(Not me using this Simon gif again because it makes me weak in the knees🫡)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

It wasn't that Simon didn't like you. He truly did. It was more so the fact that he was your lieutenant, your superior, and he couldn't put you both at risk like that by accepting your romantic advances.

He'd felt horrible, his insides churning when he'd rejected you. He watched as your face fell in defeat and how you struggled not to cry in front of him. He didn't know how to make the situation better or what to say, so he watched as you fled from the room, wondering if you'd ever talk to him again.

He thought he'd be able to work through it. Work through knowing that you felt the same about him and that he blew it. But then came König.

You two had been friends for some time, but lately you two had seemed...closer. He saw the two of you together more frequently, whether it be training together, eating together, or even sitting on the couch together after missions. What hurt Simon the most was the fact that you seemed... happy with him.

The more Simon thought about it, the more he started to beat himself up. Thinking that his time was limited, he decided to talk to you about it. He just hoped that he wasn't too late.

~

He found you later that night, finishing up at the shooting range. He was thankful everyone else had gone to bed, leaving you two alone.

"Y/N." Simon called out, grabbing your attention. You whirled around to meet him face to face and gave the best smile you could muster. You hadn't really spoken to him since he rejected you, and the ache in your heart was still present.

"Sir." You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

Simon scratched at the back of his head nervously, unsure of what to say next. He had it planned out in his head, but now that you were here in front of him, his mind was a jumbled mess. "Don't date him."

Your eyes widened slightly as you absorbed his words. "I'm sorry? Date who?"

"König." Simon's voice came out cracked, and you could tell that he was nervous, an emotion not commonly associated with the masked man.

"König? Why would I be dating him?" You asked, bemused.

"I've seen the two of you together, and you seem... happy with him." Simon was avoiding your eyes, the mask he wore, unable to hide the emotions he was feeling.

You took a deep breath as you regarded the man carefully. Your mind was racing with a million different thoughts. Why did he care if you dated König? He was the one who rejected you.

"Why do you care if I do?" You tried, curious to see his reasoning. It wasn't like it was against the rules to date him. He wasn't in your squad.

Simon let out a huff of frustration, clearly annoyed at the situation, at the fact you couldn't just understand what he was trying to say. Words didn't come easy to Simon, and he wasn't sure what to say to make you understand.

"I don't want you to." Is all he was able to say.

"You don't want me to? Simon, what the hell is that supposed to mean? If this is because of us, you're the one who rejected me. And now you're telling me you don't want me seeing other people? I don't understand why-"

In a matter of seconds, Simon's balaclava was torn off, revealing his handsome face as he swiftly moved toward you, crashing his lips to yours, effectively cutting you off.

The kiss was brief, fleeting, as before you could even register what was happening, he was pulling away.

"Simon?" You asked, breathless as your cheeks began to burn pink.

"I don't want you to be with anyone, but me." His voice was barely above a whisper, but you'd still heard him.

"Simon, you told me no. You said that it wasn't smart and-"

"Fuck being smart. I can't get you out of my head, kid. You're always there. I've thought for so long that I'm better off alone, and I was okay with that. Until you. And for the first time in a long fucking time, I want something for myself. I want you."

You felt tears starting to form in your eyes as you watched him struggle for words. This was a side of Simon you've never seen before. He was showing you his vulnerability. "If you truly want me, Simon, I'm yours."

His ears perked up slightly as he lifted his gaze back to you. You saw a ghost of a smile on his lips as you slowly moved to cup his cheek. You let your eyes rake across his handsome features before landing them back on his lips. "Kiss me, Simon Riley."

And he did.

König-

"König. Do you have a second?" You asked, approaching the hooded mass of a man timidly.

"Of course, Maus. What's up?" He gave you a warm smile before turning back to scrub at the dirty hood in his hands.

"I was.. I wanted to tell you that I have feelings for you. They've gotten hard to ignore, and I felt I should tell you." You said, your voice shaking slightly.

You heard König sigh deeply as he turned his gaze to you. "We can't. It's not ethical. I'm sorry."

He turned back to his hood, giving the impression that the conversation was over.

You let out a shaky breath as you struggled to keep your composure. "Of course. I understand."

You quickly turned on your heel and fled from his room, desperate for him to not see you cry.

König listened to your fading footsteps and sighed deeply. He felt terrible. He honestly didn't know you felt the same way and frankly didn't know how to react. He'd liked you for a long time but was scared that being romantically entagled in this sort of field wasn't beneficial for either of you. It didn't help that he was terrible with words as well.

He was planning on approaching you about it, to try and smooth things over, but every time he tried, you were with Ghost.

He knew you and Ghost had a close relationship, but lately, it seemed to strengthen in a way that had Königs heart constricting.

Everywhere he went, there you were with the masked lieutenant. König was no fool. He'd heard the whispers of the women on base, even the men, of how attractive Ghost was. König could only hope that you weren't one of the ones that felt that way.

A few days had passed since the two of you spoke, and König was starting to lose his mind. He couldn't bear not talking to you, and as the days went on, he was terrified he'd lose you to Ghost.

~

König had decided to approach you during lunch one day, not caring that you were sitting next to your Lieutenant.

"Maus, can I speak with you." He asked, clearing his throat to get your attention away from Ghost.

You turned to König with a small smile, nodding your head. "Sure. What's up?"

"Alone, if that's okay." He murmured, turning his head toward the door.

You followed him wordlessly to the weapons room, and fortunately for the two of you, it was empty.

"Are...are you with him?" König stuttered out, his cheeks burning with shame as he ripped off his hood.

"Who, Ghost? No, he's just a friend. Same as you." You said, your voice laced with disdain.

Königs eyes left yours as they landed on the ground beneath you. He didn't know what to say. It was clear you were still upset with him, not that he could blame you.

"Is that all you wanted to ask me? If I'm with Ghost?" You asked, bouncing on the heels of your feet. The tension was palpable between the two of you, and you wanted nothing more than to run from it.

"I wanted that to be me. The one laughing with you. The one you went to after a long day. The one you wanted to be around." He said, his voice characteristically soft.

"It was. Then you rejected me. I didn't know if you wanted me around anymore." You admitted, your voice breaking slightly.

"Don't ever ever say that. Hell would freeze over before I'd ever stop wanting your company." Königs voice was stern, a complete contrast to how he was speaking moments before. "I want you, Y/N. I was a moron to reject you. I thought I was doing what was best, and then you pulled away completely. And I saw you with him. I just.. I dont.."

You took a step toward him and placed a warm hand on his cheek. "König."

He stopped his rambling as his eyes met yours once more. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand drifted down his cheek softly, your thumb slowly carrying his bottom lip.

You stood on your toes, barely able to reach his cheek with your mouth, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's okay, Kö."

His eyes opened as he looked down at you, a toothy grin making its way to his lips. "Be mine, Maus."

You nodded, and he was quick to press his lips to yours. His lips were softer than you'd imagined they'd be, and he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you closely as if he thought you'd leave if he didn't. Little did he know, in his arms was the only place you'd ever wanted to be.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You've never been so embarrassed in your life. You'd been in love with Johnny for years, and you truly had thought he felt the same. You thought that you made it to a point in your friendship that you could finally tell him how you felt.

So when he flat out rejected you, you were surprised, to say the least. He'd told you that while he respected that that's how you felt, he couldn't in good conscious get into a relationship with you. It wouldn't be professional.

You avoided him for a few days after that, as you were too embarrassed and hurt to face him. Johnny was no better. He felt horrible after you left and wondered if he made the right call. You were the love of his life. He just didn't think he deserved you, and he was so scared thinking about you getting hurt out in the field because of him.

What hurt him the most, though, was the fact that you started to hang out a lot more with Reyes, one of the guys from SpecGru who'd been on base a few weeks. The way you treated him was the way you treated Johnny before he went and screwed everything up.

Johnny began to find it impossible not to get riled up every time he saw you with Reyes. It was clear the Canadian had an interest in you, and the thought of you two being together had Johnny's insides churning.

~

Later that night, you'd walked into your room and were met face to face with Johnny, who was sitting on your bed.

"I'm a fool, Y/N." Johnny's voice caught your attention as you walked through your door.

"Jesus, Johnny. Scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?" Your hand flew to your heart as you caught your breath.

"Sorry. I just uh. I wanted to talk." His eyes flitted down to his hands, as he began to fiddle with a hang nail.

"About?" You crossed your arms defensively, desperate to protect the little piece of your heart he hadn't already hurt.

"I shouldn't have turned you down. I was a fool. I thought, by turning you away, I'd keep you safe. That our feelings for each other wouldn't get in the way of our responsibilities if I just ignored how I felt."

"And what changed in a matter of days?" Your tone was icy, and it made Johnny shudder. It wasn't a tone he liked being on the receiving end of, but he couldn't fault you for it.

"I saw you. With Reyes." Johnny admitted, his head downturned in shame. He didn't want to admit he was jealous, but it tore him up inside to see you laughing, and happy with a man that wasn't him.

"So you're only telling me this because you're jealous."

"No. I'm telling you this because I've harbored feelings for you for years. I tried to push you away because I thought it was what was best. And I was wrong. Seeing you with Reyes made me realize that. I want you, Y/N. I always have. I just hope I'm not too late." You heard his voice quiver slightly toward the end, and it made your defensive walls crumble.

"You want me, Johnny? Truly?" You asked, standing straight as you watched him watch you.

Johnny stood off your bed and strode up to you. "I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on you."

And that was all that was needed for you to press your lips to his. The man you'd been in love with for years, was finally yours.

John Price-

"While I respect how you feel, it's inappropriate. You're my subordinate, I'm your superior." John stated curtly. He watched as your shoulders slumped in defeat, as you struggled to maintain a neutral expression.

"Understood, sir. I apologize for bringing it up." You gave a firm nod as you turned to the door.

"Y/N. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"Of course, sir. Enjoy your day." You a small smile before exiting, letting the tears free fall once you made it far enough away from his office.

Price slouched forward in his chair and ran his hands along his face. He felt like a total asshole. He wasn't blind. He knew you had feelings for him, and he'd be a liar if he said he didn't return them.

You were his ray of sunshine in every sense of the word, and he'd do anything for you. He just knew the risks that came with superior/subordinate relationships, and he wasn't okay with those. He didn't want to see you get hurt because of him.

A few days passed since the incident, and he'd seen no sign of you. You usually would start your mornings with him, but he hadn't seen you since that day in his office.

He made his way to the cafeteria, stopping short when he saw you sitting with Soap.

Price gritted his teeth as he watched you joke around with him. He knew it was childish, immature even. While he was doing his best to push his feelings for you aside, you were making it impossible for him.

It went on like this for nearly a week. Every time that you'd usually come to see Price, he'd now find you hanging out with the scot.

He'd finally had enough of it, his jealousy getting the better of him, as he stormed off to his office.

~

"Hey, Price told me to send you to his office." Gaz had informed you later that day.

"Oh? Am I in trouble?" You questioned, chuckling lightly.

"Who knows, he does seem a little grumpy today." Kyle sent you a sympathetic smile before walking toward the barracks.

"Great." You murmured as you made your way to Price's office.

~

"Y/N." John greeted you as you walked through the door. "Close the door."

"Sir. What can I do for you?" You asked, pushing the door closed with a slam. Price never called you into his office like this.

He watched you for a moment, not saying anything as he carefully studied your movements. He could tell you were nervous.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, regarding you carefully as he slowly started to talk toward you.

"What are you referring to, sir?" You knew what he was asking, but you didn't feel like being shut down yet again by the man.

"You said you have feelings for me." He continued to stalk toward you. "I'm asking if that was that true?"

You gulped audibly as you began to step backward, away from him. "Yes, sir. But I realize that it was inappropriate."

"I'm your captian."

"I know."

"Your boss."

"I know."

"The man who's hands you put your life in, every time I send you out on a mission."

"I know."

John stared at you, his gaze intense as he tried to read you. He wanted to know what was going on in that beautiful head of yours. "And, I'm the man that's going to make you scream out his name tonight."

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him carefully. He'd effectively backed you into the corner of his office, and you'd heard the "click" of the lock on his door.

"But you said-"

"Fuck what I said. I'm done doing this dance. There's no point in beating around the bush any longer. I want you, and I want this. If you want me, get over here."

Your body reacted before your brain could catch up, as you threw yourself onto John, your lips latching to his in a heated, desperate kiss.

Needless to say, John was a man of his word, and it didn't take long before he had you screaming his name that day, and many others to come.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"It wouldn't work between us. We've both got so much going on, and with this job, I think it would be a bit too much for us to handle." Kyle said, smiling sadly.

"Oh! Yeah, sure. That makes sense. I get it." You nodded your head vigorously, your eyes moving anywhere but your best friends face. "Silly of me to even bring it up."

"Y/N." Kyle started, trying to walk up to you.

"No. No, really. It's okay. I have to go anyway, I have a bunch of stuff to do." You gave him a sad smile before briskly making your way out of the room.

Kyle felt his stomach drop as he heard a sniffle come from the hallway, knowing it was you. The more he rethought what he said to you, the worse he felt. He's had feelings for you for quite some time, but he was always too worried to act on it. His job meant the world to him, and frankly, he was scared of that being jeopardized.

Desperate to try to repair your relationship, however, he set out to find you.

~

Kyle found you later that day in the training room, practicing hand to hand combat with Alejandro.

He felt his blood boil at the way the man touched you. He knew it wasn't fair to Alejandro, but seeing him touch you like that sparked something in Kyle. It was in that moment that he knew he didn't want to push down his feelings for you any longer.

"Mind if I take over?" He asked as he approached. "Been needing to blow off some steam."

You and Alejandro stopped mid fight, the two of you struggling to catch your breath. "Alright, hermana, same time tomorrow?"

"Of course. Thank you for helping, by the way." You slapped his shoulder playfully .

"Anytime. Kyle, be seeing you." He gave Kyle a pat on the back as he made his way out.

Silence fell in the room as you and Kyle watched Alejandro leave.

"Hey." Kyle said after some time.

"Hey." You replied, rubbing at your arm nervously. "Did you actually want to train or?"

Kyle swallowed thickly, his eyes darting around the room. "I just wanted to talk. I felt bad. For earlier."

"Nothing to apologize for. You said your peace and I can't fault you for that." You gave him a sad smile.

"No, I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have turned you down. I thought in the moment I was doing the right thing."

"And now?"

"And now, I realize that the only right thing for me is you." The sincerity in his voice had your heart skipping a beat, as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. "I was a fool for thinking otherwise. You're all I want."

"What will you do about it?" You asked, your eyes flickering to his lips.

"If you'll let me, I'd kiss you." He gave you a warm smile as he leaned down toward you, his warm breath fanning across your lips. Your eyes falling shut was all the consent he needed.

And, after waiting for nearly 5 years, you'd finally gotten the kiss you'd been waiting for, with the man you loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thanks for reading!

[fvsm4x]

‚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜, 𝐈‘𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧‘𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 ‘ — 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐬

𝐜𝐰. Best friends to fwb / fwb! gojo satoru x fem! reader / one sided love? / smut / gojo is kinda a whore / jealousy / kinda angsty / 18+ content / oral (f receiving) / fingering / p in v / 5k words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠. : @starlightanyaaa @froufrousnowman @101strawberries101 @dazaisfavgf @the-lazy-perfectionist @maiiluvs @lukiaheart

November 26

The city skyline glittered under the moonlight, a sprawling array of lights against the night sky, painting a mesmerizing backdrop to the chaotic rhythm of the urban jungle. From your balcony, perched high above the city streets, you watched as life carried on below, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within you.

You picked up your phone, the screen glowing softly in the darkness, displaying a single message from him.

Satoru: you busy?

October 2

The neon lights of the bar flickered in the darkness, casting an ethereal glow over the crowded room on that Friday night. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the hum of conversation, creating an atmosphere charged with anticipation. Lost in your own thoughts, you sat at the bar, nursing your drink in silence, observing the world around you.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a voice drawled beside you, jolting you from your reverie.

Turning, you found Gojo Satoru sliding onto the stool beside you, his trademark smirk in place. “Can't say the feeling's mutual,” you retorted, taking a sip of your drink and pointedly ignoring him.

He chuckled, undeterred by your icy demeanor. “Come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly.”

Rolling your eyes, you resisted the urge to scoff at his feeble attempt at charm. “Save it, Satoru. I've heard it all before.”

Raising an eyebrow, a hint of amusement danced in Gojo's eyes. “Touché. But you have to admit, we make quite the pair.”

You scoffed, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp. “Speak for yourself.”

As the night wore on, the tension between you grew, fueled by a potent combination of alcohol and unspoken desires. Arguing and bantering became your shared language, trading barbs and insults with the ease of long-time adversaries. But beneath the surface, a different kind of tension simmered—a tension born of attraction and longing, a tension that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

“You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you sure do spend a lot of time with me,” Gojo remarked, his lips quirking up into a sly grin.

“Maybe I just enjoy watching you make a fool of yourself,” you shot back, though the words rang hollow even to your own ears.

He chuckled, leaning in closer until his breath fanned against your ear. “Or maybe you just can't resist me.”

You tensed at his proximity, the heat of his body sending a shiver down your spine. “Don't flatter yourself,” you replied, though the words lacked conviction.

He leaned back, his grin widening into a smirk. “I'll take that as a yes.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't deny the truth in his words. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that drew you in against your better judgment.

“Why do you always have to be such a pain?” you muttered, though your words lacked the bite of true conviction.

He chuckled, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “Because it's fun.”

You swatted his hand away with a scowl, though your heart wasn't in it. “You're impossible.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “And yet, you love me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips as his gaze locked with yours. You furrowed your eyebrows and turned away from him.

“I could never lower my standards for a rodent like you.” you said, averting his gaze,

Gojo's smirk faltered for a moment, before he masked it with a nonchalant shrug. "Ouch, that hurts, (Y/N). I didn't realize I was dealing with such high standards."

You clenched your jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as you struggled to maintain your composure. "High standards? More like basic human decency," you shot back."You're not nearly as interesting as you think you are." You lied.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he studied you in silence for a moment. "Is that so?" he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, refusing to meet his gaze as you focused on the empty glass in front of you. "Yeah, it is," you spoke, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

With a heavy sigh, Gojo leaned back, "Such a meany“ he muttered, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You chuckled, shaking your head at his dramatics. "Oh, please," you retorted, rolling your eyes. "You love it when I give you a hard time. Keeps you on your toes."

Gojo's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, (Y/N)," he teased, "But deep down, you know you couldn't live without me."

You feigned a gag, a smile playing on your lips. "Don't flatter yourself, Satoru," you replied, though there was a hint of fondness in your tone. "I've managed just fine without you before, and I can do it again."

“Yeah, right,” he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned back against the bar.

You arched an eyebrow at his retort, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "You doubt me, Satoru?" you replied, your voice dripping with mock indignation. "I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable of thriving on my own."

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Sure, sure," he said, his tone teasing. "But let's be honest, (Y/N). You'd miss me too much if I were gone."

You rolled your eyes, though there was a small kernel of truth in his words that you couldn't deny. "Yeah, right," you muttered, though the words lacked conviction.

As Gojo's phone buzzed with a notification, he glanced down and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. With a smirk, he tapped on the message, and his smirk widened into a grin as he turned the screen toward you.

"Look," he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

You glanced at the screen, expecting to see a harmless message or maybe a meme, but your eyes widened in shock as the image loaded. It was a picture—no, several pictures—of a woman in various states of undress, her features blurred out but her intentions unmistakable.

Your jaw dropped, heat rising to your cheeks as you struggled to process what you were seeing. "Are those...?" you started, unable to form a coherent sentence as your mind raced with a million questions.

Gojo chuckled, his amusement evident as he scrolled through the messages. "Looks like someone's eager to get my attention," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance.

You tore your gaze away from the screen, a mixture of embarrassment and anger bubbling beneath the surface. "That's disgusting," you muttered, unable to keep the disdain from your voice.

Gojo continued scrolling through the pictures, his expression shifting from amusement to mild annoyance. "Girls these days really are something else," he remarked, shaking his head,“I know i‘m handsome and allat but they need to chill out.“

You glanced at him with a deadpan expression. "Thats your fault," you replied, the words dripping with sarcasm.

He hummed in response, his attention still fixed on his phone. "You're not gonna go to her place after she sends you something like that?" you asked,

He shrugged, finally looking up from his phone. "Why should I?" he replied, his tone casual. "It's nothing new—I get pictures like that every day."

Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief at his nonchalant attitude. "Ah, right. I forgot my best friend is a whore," you retorted, unable to stop the words from slipping out.

Gojo's eyes widened in surprise at your accusation, a flicker of hurt crossing his features before he masked it with a practiced smirk. "Hey, now," he protested, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I prefer the term 'charming ladies' man,' thank you very much."

You rolled your eyes at his flippant response, unable to hide the hurt that lingered just beneath the surface. "Yeah, well, whatever helps you sleep at night," you muttered,

He leaned in, his playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. "You know that I wouldn't leave you just to be in another woman's bed" he said, his voice softer. "I'd rather be here with you to be honest.“

"Thats not what happened before" you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

He reached out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "The past is the past, (Y/N)," he said, his tone sincere. "You're the most important person in my life except for suguru. I wouldn't leave you here hanging for some chick, especially when you‘re drunk."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deception. But all you saw was the familiar warmth and mischief that had always drawn you to him. Despite everything, you couldn't help but smile.

He chuckled, his hand still resting on your shoulder. "Seriously. I know it can be hard to deal with me sometimes but if you ever need anything, you know I'm here for you."

You nodded, appreciating the sincerity in his words. "Yeah, I know."

The moment was interrupted by another buzz from Gojo's phone. He glanced down and sighed, rolling his eyes. "Not again," he muttered,

"What now?" you asked, curious despite yourself.

He turned the screen toward you, revealing another message from the same woman. This time, it was a video—equally suggestive and equally unwelcome.

„Don't show me that—” you muttered, turning away from the screen,“could've just said that you got another pair of nudes send“

"I don't wanna be the only one seeing that, gotta share it with someone.“ he replied, while letting out a soft chuckle.

You sighed.

„Didn’t I already tell her that it was a one-time thing?" Gojo muttered under his breath.

You couldn't help but snort at his predicament. "Looks like someone's not getting the hint."

He shook his head, quickly typing out a reply. "Some people just don't understand the word one-time thing," he grumbled,“I don't mind if women send me nudes though, it boosts my ego up.“ he replied with a chuckle after.

„Of course it does..“

You watched him for a moment, a thought forming in your mind. "Why don't you block her?" you suggested.

Gojo looked up, "I guess I could," he said slowly. "But that would be admitting defeat."

You rolled your eyes. "How would that admit your defeat? Only you would see it that way."

He chuckled, his fingers hovering over the block button. "Alright, fine." he said, finally pressing it. "She wasn't anything special anyways. I can always find a replacement for her.“

You rolled your eyes.

Gojo put his phone away and turned his full attention back to you. "So, what were we talking about before we were rudely interrupted?"

You smirked, leaning back in your chair. "How much you adore me, I think."

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, right. That."

For the rest of the night, the conversation flowed easily between you. The barbs and insults remained, but they were laced with affection rather than frustration. The alcohol loosened your tongues and you found yourselves reminiscing about old times, sharing secrets, and laughing at inside jokes.

As the night drew to a close, you realized how much you valued these moments with Gojo. Despite his flaws and his infuriating arrogance, he was your best friend. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Walking out of the bar, you stumbled slightly, the effects of the alcohol making themselves known. Gojo steadied you with a grin, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Easy there," he teased. "Can't have my best friend falling over."

You leaned into his embrace, grateful for his support. "Thanks, Satoru," you murmured, your voice soft.

He looked down at you, "Anytime, (Y/N). Anytime."

The walk to your apartment was filled with laughter and playful banter, the cool night air doing little to sober you up. The alcohol had settled into your system, making your steps uneven and your thoughts a bit hazy. Gojo's arm remained around your shoulders, guiding you along the familiar path.

Finally, you reached your door, fumbling with the keys as you tried to unlock it. Gojo chuckled, taking the keys from your hand and smoothly opening the door.

"You'd be lost without me," he teased, his breath warm against your ear.

"Shut up," you muttered, but there was no real bite in your words.

Inside, you kicked off your shoes and stumbled toward the couch, collapsing onto it with a sigh. Gojo followed, sitting beside you and stretching his arms out along the back of the couch.

"Do you need help with getting to the bedroom?" he remarked, his voice softer now.

"No it's fine," you replied, closing your eyes for a moment. When you opened them, you found him staring at you, his blue eyes intense and unreadable.

"What?" you asked, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

"Nothing," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Just thinking how pretty you look even when you‘re drunk."

You rolled your eyes, but the compliment, however casual, warmed you. "You’re such a flirt," you said, your words slurring slightly.

"And you love it," he shot back, leaning in a bit closer.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way his gaze seemed to pull you in, but you found yourself leaning in too, your breath hitching as the space between you shrank. Before you could second-guess yourself, your lips met his in a tentative kiss.

-

November 26

Satoru: you busy?

It had been the same message countless times over the past months.

The memory of that first night flashed in your mind. It had been a typical Friday evening, and you and Gojo had decided to unwind at your favorite bar. You had always been close, best friends who shared everything from secrets to inside jokes. But that night, something had shifted.

Gojo had looked at you differently, his gaze lingering a bit longer, his touches more frequent. You had felt a spark, a pull that you couldn’t ignore. The drinks had flowed, loosening your inhibitions, and before you knew it, you were back at your apartment, your lips crashing into his.

The next morning, tangled in sheets and the aftermath of a night you couldn’t quite believe had happened, Gojo had suggested the arrangement.

“Let’s keep it casual,” he had said, his tone nonchalant but his eyes intense. “No strings, just fun. What do you think?”

Caught between the high of what had just happened and the fear of losing him, you had agreed. You told yourself it was a good idea, a way to enjoy each other without complicating your friendship. But as the weeks turned into a month, it became clear that things weren’t so simple.

You replied to his message, your heart already racing at the thought of seeing him.

You: "No, come over."

Minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Gojo standing there, his familiar grin in place. He stepped inside, his presence filling the room. He was always like this—effortlessly confident, always in control.

“Miss me?” he teased, slipping off his shoes and stepping closer.

You forced a smile. “Yeah.”

His gaze lingered at you for a moment before he chuckled. His hands found your waist, pulling you into a kiss. It was intoxicating, the way he kissed you, but you knew better than to let yourself get lost in it. He was good at making you feel wanted, but there was a distance in his touch, a barrier you couldn’t breach.

As his lips moved against yours, you felt a familiar rush of heat. Gojo’s kisses were always intense, a blend of passion and skill that left you breathless. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a practiced ease that made your knees weak. For a moment, you let yourself forget, let yourself drown in the sensation of his mouth on yours, his hands roaming over your body.

But then, reality intruded. The knowledge that this was all it would ever be, that he would never give you more, clawed at the back of your mind. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Something wrong?” Gojo asked, his voice husky with desire.

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “No, just… catching my breath.”

He smirked, his hands sliding down to your hips. “Then let’s keep going.”

He picked you up by the thighs, and walked to the bedroom with you in his arms. He laid you down on your back, and hovered over you, his eyes dark with desire. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

He nibbled your neck, his hands slipping underneath your t-shirt, teasing your skin as they moved upwards towards your breasts. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. You wanted him, needed him, but there was a part of you that longed for more than just the physical.

"You like that?" he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and filled with heat. "You like the way I make you feel?"

"Yes, Satoru," you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "I love it."

"Good," he growled, his hands cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "I’want to hear you say my name."

You arched into his touch, your body alight with sensation. "S’toru," you moaned, the sound of his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

"That's right," he murmured, his lips trailing down your body, his hands working to remove your clothes with practiced ease. "I want you to remember this. Every touch, every kiss. I want you to crave me."

You shuddered beneath him, your body responding to his words and touch. He undressed you slowly, savoring every moment, his eyes dark with hunger. When you were finally bare before him, he paused to drink in the sight of you, his gaze intense and possessive.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, "So perfect."

Your heart ached at his words, knowing they were just a part of the game he played. But you let yourself believe them, if only for a moment. "S’toru," you whispered, your voice filled with need.

He smiled, a dark, predatory grin. "I know," he said, his hands sliding down your body, caressing every curve and dip. "I know exactly what you need."

He kissed his way down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, Satoru," you begged, your voice a desperate whisper. "I need you. I need you inside.."

"Not yet," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief,“Want you to beg for it.“

You whimpered, your body trembling with anticipation. "Please," you repeated, your voice breaking. "Please, Satoru, I need you."

„More.“

You closed your eyes,“please, please s‘toru. Please.“ you begged.

He chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound. "Wasn’t so hard now was it?“ he said, his hands parting your thighs.

His fingers slipped between your thighs, teasing the sensitive skin there. "S’ wet for me," he muttered, a smirk playing on his lips. He slid a finger through your folds, gathering your arousal and spreading it over your clit. “All for me, right?”

You reopened your eyes and looked at him, only to find him staring at your body instead of your face. It reminded you that he was doing this only for pleasure. “Yeah, only for you,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions swirling within you.

His finger moved in slow, deliberate circles over your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “That’s right,” he said, his voice low and filled with satisfaction.

Your breath hitched as he increased the pressure, his touch expertly finding that perfect rhythm. “Satoru,” you moaned, your hips bucking against his hand.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I love the way you say my name,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “Say it again.”

“Satoru,” you gasped, your voice a desperate plea. The sensation of his thumb on your clit, combined with the way his fingers teased your entrance, was driving you to the edge.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lips trailing down your neck. “Let go for me. Show me how much you need it.”

With a deliberate slowness that was both torturous and electrifying, he slipped a finger inside you. You cried out, the feeling of him filling you causing your body to arch off the bed. He started a slow, steady rhythm, his finger curling inside you to hit that spot that made you see stars.

“God, you’re so tight,” he murmured, adding a second finger. He moved them in and out of you, his pace unhurried, savoring the way you responded to his touch. “I could do this all night.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. But the pleasure was too intense, too consuming. With a cry, you came undone, your body trembling as you climaxed around his fingers.

He watched you intently, a satisfied smirk on his lips. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers still moving inside you, prolonging your pleasure.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body. “Satoru, please,” you whispered, your voice filled with need.

He grinned, his eyes dark with desire. “Don’t worry,” he said,

Without warning, he withdrew his fingers and shifted lower on the bed. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide as he settled between them. The sight of him there, eyes dark with desire, made your heart race.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “I bet you taste even better than you feel,” he murmured, and then his mouth was on you.

His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit with feather-light strokes that made you shiver. He started slow, savoring every reaction you gave him, before gradually increasing the pressure and speed. Your hips bucked against his mouth, a moan slipping from your lips as he licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“Fuck, Satoru,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to hold on.

He hummed in response, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You taste so good,” he muttered, his words muffled against your skin. He sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue circling it in a way that made your toes curl.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, the tension building with every skilled movement of his tongue. He alternated between sucking and licking, his fingers slipping back inside you, pumping in rhythm with his mouth.

“More,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Satoru.”

He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he continued his relentless assault. “You like that?” he asked, his voice husky with arousal.

“Yes,” you moaned, your head falling back against the pillow. “Don’t stop.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His tongue moved faster, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. The combination of his mouth and fingers was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. “Please,” you gasped, your body arching off the bed. “I’m gonna—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a low growl. “I want to taste you.”

With a final, shuddering cry, you came undone, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body trembled, your hands gripping his hair as you rode out the pleasure. He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working you through every pulse and shiver, prolonging your release until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal. He looked up at you, a satisfied smirk on his face. “You’re even more beautiful when you come,” he said, his voice rough with desire.

You lay there, panting and spent, your body still humming with aftershocks. “Satoru,” you murmured, reaching out for him.

He crawled back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the intimacy of it making your heart ache. “I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered against your lips. “Not even close.”

He pulled back from the kiss, his breath hot against your lips as he murmured, “Turn around.”

You blinked up at him, a slight frown of confusion crossing your features. “What?”

“Turn around,” he repeated, his voice firm but not unkind. “Gonna take you from behind like always.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that made your heart clench. But you complied, rolling over onto your stomach and then up onto your knees, your body still thrumming with the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm.

He positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips. You felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance, teasing and relentless.

You moaned in response, your body arching back toward him. “Please, Satoru.”

Without another word, he pushed into you, filling you completely in one smooth thrust. You cried out, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling before he started to move, his pace steady and controlled.

His hands tightened on your hips, holding you firmly in place as he fucked you. Each thrust was deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your vision blur. “God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice low and rough. “So tight.”

You whimpered, your body moving in time with his, the pleasure building once again. “S’toru,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the sheets.

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you? When I take you from behind?”

“Yes,” you moaned, your body trembling with each thrust. “I love it.”

“Good,” he growled, his pace quickening. “Because I want to hear you scream my name.”

You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. “Satoru,” you cried out, your voice breaking.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Come for me. Let me feel you come around my cock.”

With a final, shuddering cry, you came undone, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He followed moments later, his own release spilling inside you as he groaned your name.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing, the feel of his weight pressing down on you. Then he pulled out and rolled onto his back, a satisfied smirk on his face.

You lay there, your body spent and trembling, your heart aching with a mixture of satisfaction and something more. “Satoru,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He looked over at you, his expression unreadable. “What is it?”

You hesitated, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat. But in the end, you just shook your head. “Nothing,” you murmured, closing your eyes.

“Good,” he said, his voice distant. “Get some rest.”

And as you lay there, your body still humming with the afterglow of pleasure, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all you would ever have with him. The physical connection was undeniable, but the emotional distance felt like an insurmountable chasm.

But for now, you would take what you could get. Because even if it was just physical for him, for you, it was something more. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Gojo’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. He sighed, reaching over to grab it.

“Yeah?” he answered, his voice returning to that familiar, nonchalant tone.

You could hear a faint voice on the other end, though you couldn’t make out the words. Gojo’s expression shifted, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with a more serious look.

“Alright,” he said after a moment. “I’ll be there soon.” He ended the call and turned to you, his demeanor already changing.

“I have to go,” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

“Now?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling on his clothes with practiced efficiency. “Work stuff.”

You watched him dress, the familiar ache in your chest growing stronger. He was always slipping away, always leaving you with just a taste of what you wanted.

“Will I see you later?” you asked, hating how vulnerable you sounded.

He paused, looking at you with an expression that was hard to read. “Sure,” he said, though the word felt empty. “You know where to find me.”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Be safe.”

He gave you a quick nod, his usual smirk flickering across his lips. “Always am.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room. The silence felt deafening, the weight of his absence pressing down on you.

You sighed, pulling the sheets around you as you tried to gather your thoughts. The physical connection with Gojo was incredible, but it always left you wanting more, longing for something deeper that he seemed unwilling or unable to give

© fvsm4x 2023/4 : do not translate, plagiarise or steal my work.

[ninibeingdelulu]

His empress ✧

Plot: Because of Michael’s busy life, he barely have any time for you.

A/N: Loved Kaiser from day one , like he’s literally my bf. Also, I made him a little poetic so idk if it’s good😓.

The apartment doorslammed with enough force to rattle the windows. Michael stormed inside, cleats leaving muddy tracks across the hardwood in his wake.

His sharply angled features were locked in a ferocious scowl, blue eyes blazing with frustration. Another grueling training had pushed his limits to the brink once more.

You glanced up from the kitchen, unable to mask your wince at the unrepentant mess he left behind.

"Welcome home," you ventured in a measured tone, knowing his volatile moods all too well.

Michael barely acknowledged you. Instead he ripped off his muddied jersey in an angry flourish and hurled it aside, seeking to strip away the stench of another dissatisfying day.

Your eyes followed his toned form from behind the marble island as he stomped towards the bathroom. His shoulder muscles were knotted ropes of tension beneath that porcelaine skin.

You knew it was intentional, feeling your steady gaze tracking him like a hunting falcon.

That was just Michael's way - everything was a crucible, an excuse to exude that overwhelming dominance he so craved.

But today the display did little to spur your usual fluttering admiration. A different rawness simmered in your chest as you watched him disappear into the bathroom without a backwards glance.

The spray of running water filled the strained silence in Michael's wake. You stood there motionless, mulling over the painful sting festering deeper each day.

Though his ferocious commitment to training and perfecting his craft was legendary, lately it had consumed him to an almost alienating degree. Including from you.

How long had it been since you last shared an intimate moment together?

Or even heard that cocksure voice murmur sweet maddening praises that used to set you aflame from the inside out?

Those precious instances had dwindled to near non-existence as Michael became more obsessed, more distant, more...unseeing of the person he'd once crowned his devoted empress.

The bathroom door creaked open, steam billowing out with Michael's emergence in fresh sweats. Without forethought, the question slipped from your lips in a dull murmur.

"Do you even care about me anymore?"

His hand paused where he scrubbed the towel through those signature bedhead spikes. Sea-glass eyes flicked over to pin you with an owlish blink.

"What?"

You swallowed, turning to face him fully now that his defenses were stripped bare.

"Sometimes I wonder if you ever really loved me at all... or if I was just another passing conquest for the 'great emperor' to claim and discard."

The words hung in the air with damning finality.

Michael froze, hands falling away from his blonde and blue hair. For several beats his expression was unreadable, marbled handsomeness set in an impenetrable mask.

Then his sculpted brows slashed downwards in undisguised hurt.

You shrank back instinctively when he stalked towards you with quickened strides, expecting more flaring tempers to clash.

But instead of the storm you braced for, gentle calloused palms cradled your face with trembling reverence.

Michael searched your gaze with those kaleidoscope depths, as if reacquainting himself with the woman he'd unforgivably taken for granted.

"You..." he started roughly before clearing his throat. "Never think that, liebe. Not even for a moment."

A shuddery inhale filled Michael's broad chest as one hand drifted down to splay over your thundering heart. His touch was feather-light, worshipful in its tenderness.

"You are the single greatest treasure I've ever had the honor of possessing, my shining star among the world's dim masses. More divine than any earthly jewel or victory on the pitch."

You felt your breath hitch at the unbridled ardor shining through those captivating blue eyes. Michael's voice dropped to an intimate baritone murmur that caressed over you like velvet.

"I am an arrogant, obsessive fool in so many ways - but my absolute worship of you is one truth I'll never stray from. You make me an emperor worthy of respect, make me burn with desire to prove my worth to stand at your side.I-"

He cut himself, his thumb brushing over the plump swell of your bottom lip reverently.

"It is my gravest sin to ever make you question how utterly you reign over my soul, meine liebe. I’m sorry if I’ve been distant these last weeks, I just had a lot in mind with the upcoming games. Forgive me if I made you feel l didn’t care about you."

You were rendered utterly speechless at the searing depth behind Michael's heartfelt confession.

A powerful tremor rippled down your frame, threatening to melt you into an incoherent puddle.

Before you could trust yourself to speak, he sealed his words with a ravaging kiss that blazed away any remaining traces of doubt.

His hands tangled in your hair, keeping you molded flush to his solid frame as if you were the single tether anchoring him to this world.

When the need for air finally parted your joined mouths, Michael bored his eyes into yours with hypnotic intensity.

A familiar smolder flickered to life in their whirling depths - a predatory allure reserved only for his empress.

"Tonight," he rasped against your swollen lips, "allow me to worship you again and again, until the nights where you felt alone disappear from your mind, mein juwel..."

[samuelsdean]

Stay With Me

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary:  "you’ve been shot countless times, huh?” “that sounded a bit more reassuring in my head.”

genre: angst & fluff

word count: 1.1k

author's notes: almost a year of no writing, but i'm finally home (i posted a new fic)! it's been one hectic year for me. uni was crazy & i started my clinical rotations. plus, i did my thesis & it even got a distinction mark so i'll be presenting it at a research congress pretty soon (yay!). with that, i'm really sorry for ghosting ao3 & tumblr. i couldn't find the time to insert it in between uni & breaking down lol. anyway, i'll be posting a lot more while i'm on break. i hope you'll enjoy reading my first fic after a year of zzz. have fun!

YOU CAN HEAR SIRENS AND PEOPLE SHOUTING.

They say when you are knocking on death’s door, hearing is the last of your senses you will lose. If you’re dying, you don’t know it. Nothing makes sense at the moment. It’s all just blurry hues of blues and reds and shouting—Stay with me—the smell of something metallic. The only thing you’re sure of right now is that your head hurts and it seemed like a van ran right through you with how achy your body feels right now. 

Who’s  that? You mused. Why are they yelling at me?  I’m  right here. You turned your head slightly and tried to open your eyes.

It’s quite the task.

“T-That’s it,” The person, whom you think was yelling at you, said. “Stay with me, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes.”

You groaned and gripped the person's hand tightly as if to stand up, but you couldn't. Everything ached. And the person holding you, just kept on talking, their voice a low murmur at first. But even through the haze of pain, it was starting to sound familiar. You recognized that dulcet tone, the rich, smooth sound that could captivate your attention with random facts or lull you to sleep with equal ease.

The voice, you realized with a flicker of a smile, belonged to Spencer, its familiar cadence a warm current cutting through the blossoming pain.

“Reid?” You croaked.

Your throat’s dryer than any other desert in existence right now. And you sound worse than you look—you think—you don’t know for sure, except the fact that you can’t move much.

“It’s me,” Spencer chuckled while sniffling. “I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?”

Even through the haze of pain, a new wave of discomfort bloomed in your shoulder, sharp and insistent. Before you could react and get up, Spencer's hand tightened on yours, his voice laced with a tremor you'd never heard before. "Don't move, Y/N. You've been shot."

He applied pressure on your wound—which you just noticed. The pain hit you in a delayed wave, a white-hot stab that stole your breath. You hissed a weak sound that did little to mask the spike in your heart rate. 

"Stop moving or you're gonna bleed out even more!" Spencer's voice, usually so calm and collected, was laced with a raw panic you'd never heard before.

"Easy there, tiger," you tried to joke, your voice raspy. "I've been through worse. I’ve been shot countless times. W-why are you so worried?"

The question came out in a shaky whisper, the concern evident in his voice a stark contrast to the usual intellectual debates you shared.

Spencer's grip tightened, momentarily cutting off your circulation. "Because you could have died, Y/N!" he snapped, his voice cracking with a choked sob. "You… you were…"

He trailed off, unable to put into words the terrifying image that had flashed before him when he saw you collapse, after hearing the sound of a bullet whizzing by and hitting you.

The sight of your vulnerability stripped away his usual composure, leaving a raw fear he couldn't conceal. It took him a moment to regain his composure, his voice softening as he continued, "You shouldn't be so glib about this. It was a nasty shot, close to a major artery."

Despite the pain, a warmth bloomed in your chest. You'd never seen Spencer like this, so shaken and afraid.

"Okay," you murmured, forcing a weak snicker. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, at least I got you to patch me up, right, Dr.Reid?"

A ghost of a smile glinted across his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Hold still," he mumbled, amused but also bothered at your dreadful timing for jokes. He applied pressure more gently this time. "You’ve been shot countless times, huh?”

“That sounded a bit more reassuring in my head” You quipped. 

A bit lightheaded from the pain, you clutched Spencer’s hand. The shriek of approaching sirens and the glare of headlights cut through the haze. You struggled to focus on the lifeline thrown in a storm of confusion.

"They're here," Spencer said, his voice tight. A sheen of sweat beaded on his forehead, a stark contrast to his usual cool composure.

"About time," you rasped, trying to lighten the mood. The effort cost you a fresh wave of dizziness, the world tilting slightly on its axis.

To which, Spencer shot you a look that was half-annoyed, half-worried. "Don't try to be a hero. You're losing a lot of blood. Any movement can dislodge the clot forming in your wound, renewing the bleeding. So, stop moving!"

"Just keeping things interesting," you mumbled, the words slurring slightly. “Wouldn’t want my last moments here on earth to be so grim…”

Spencer's jaw clenched for a moment, then he sighed, the sound heavy with relief. "You always were a pain," He muttered, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You’re  going to be okay, he thought.

The sirens reached a fever pitch, pulling up right beside you. A flurry of activity erupted as paramedics swarmed, the rest of the team trying to make sure you were tended to and that you were going to be okay, their movements a bit panicked but practiced, and efficient. Relief washed over you, a sweet wave that threatened to pull you under. 

"Hold on, Y/N," Spencer said, his voice desperate despite the composure of his words. He kept his hand pressed firmly on your wound, his touch a grounding anchor in the chaos. “Help is here. Everyone’s here. Just… stay with me, okay?"

"Going somewhere," you slurred, your eyelids drooping.

"No, you're not," he said fiercely, his voice barely a whisper above the shouts of the paramedics. "You're coming with us."

You coughed a sharp rasp that sent a jolt of pain through your shoulder. "Stats say shoulder wounds aren't usually fatal," you wheezed, trying to distract yourself from the ache.

Spencer's hand stilled for a moment, looking at you like you’ve grown a second head. "What?"

"Yeah," you continued, your voice weak but persistent. "L-look, I get it, you're scared. But statistically, shoulder wounds aren't as serious..." Your voice trailed off as a wave of nausea washed over you.

"Maybe you shouldn't be reciting medical statistics right now," Spencer said sharply, his voice laced with a hint of panic.

“S-shouldn’t that be my line, boy genius?” You continued to joke, as the world dissolved into a scramble of flashing lights and blurry faces.

The last thing you registered was the feel of Spencer's hand tightening around yours, his touch a silent promise that resonated louder than any siren.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Ars Amatoria

Ancient Rome AU

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, chase, period-typical violence, death of minor characters, Satoru is the Emperor's brother.

Words: 3.1k

Summary: By the end of the second month, you could no longer leave the house without numerous servants circling around you. He is everywhere, whether it is a market or an arena, a house of your father's friend or a city street. If you stay alone, he always comes to talk to you even if for a minute. When you are surrounded by servants and family, he will find a way to attract your attention simply to wave to you from afar. Nothing can keep him away.

__________

He is right behind you.

Nothing betrays his presence but his erratic breathing as he makes a step closer, leaning in to get a whiff of your hair while you freeze like a statue. The sick bastard somehow always catches you alone as if he knows in advance when you give a command to the maids to fetch something. He is always there, a shadow behind a curtain. He has been following you for months, and there is nothing you can do to stop him.

"Greetings, my lady," he snickers, thrilled from the proximity. "I've missed you."

Your hands get cold, but you forbid yourself to tremble. Satoru Gojo is a predator through and through, and showing fear in front of him is akin letting him sink his teeth into you.

"This is very improper, my lord. There will be talks."

As if he ever cared about it. Being a younger brother of the Emperor has its benefits: Satoru Gojo can do anything he wants and will not get punished for any offense except for treason. Nevertheless, you hate to admit, he is not a spoiled and pampered boy he pretends to be. With years spent on a conquest of neighboring lands to expand the Empire's territory, he is well-versed in the arts of war and politics. Truly, despite his odd character, he is an honorable member of the Imperial family, and the Senate speaks well of him.

If only not for his inexplicable obsession with a woman he hardly knows.

You've met him at the Saturnalia, on the second day of the festivities in the house of one of the senators. Your father, albeit not a politician, knows his trade well, and it earned him enough respect and support to be invited. His only surviving child, you were brought along to enjoy the guising among the other sons and daughters. You did not expect any disturbance: soft-spoken and well-educated, you knew how to enjoy the carnival without inviting trouble. Unfortunately for you, the trouble found you in the face of a masked suitor who spent the whole evening beside you.

He was so charming that night. Holding your hand, he recited poetry and spoke of legends he learned in the faraway lands, enjoying your full attention. As you two drank wine and ate fruits on the terrace in the middle of the night, he pointed at the stars at the sky and told you many, many stories about each of them. At one point, you suggested he was making them up to feed your curiosity, but it only flattered you. It seemed the stranger was enamored by you, too.

By early morning, when drunk and sleepy guests were finally leaving the house, you let your suitor drop a kiss to your hand and gave him a little fibula with your father's insignia on it. While it wasn't very wise to search encounter with masked strangers outside of Saturnalia, you couldn't believe a senator would have unworthy guests under his roof. Besides, your suitor seemed to cultured and well-behaved, you thought knowing a little more about him wouldn't hurt. Your maids would never betray your secret, and you were too clever to do anything that could cause unnecessary talks.

When you heard his voice behind you on the third day of the festivities, you thought it was a happy coincidence he'd found you so fast. When you saw the face of a man you knew from the celebration the Emperor held for him after his return from the conquest, you realized what a dangerous game you were playing. Satoru Gojo was no match for a rich merchant's daughter. You were not meant for the life of the court or high politics. When he spoke of courtship, you realized the dangers awaiting you if you were mad enough to accept his offer. That is, if Emperor wouldn't assassinate you before marriage for daring to seduce someone well-above your rank.

You rejected him carefully. Surely, it was not his fault: neither of you knew the identity of the other that night. Satoru seemed strangely hot-headed for an acclaimed general to be offering courtship so early, but your father often spoke of the vigor of young soldiers to marry. Perhaps, when a bit of time passes, he would realize his mistake.

But Satoru Gojo did not accept the rejection. He smiled, flashing his pearly white teeth, and assured you he would come to you later, when you would grow accustomed to the thought of marriage.

This was how the chase began. By the end of the second month, you could no longer leave the house without numerous servants circling around you. He is everywhere, whether it is a market or an arena, a house of your father's friend or a city street. If you stay alone, he always comes to talk to you even if for a minute. When you are surrounded by servants and family, he will find a way to attract your attention simply to wave to you from afar. Nothing can keep him away. In fact, you are left wondering why he did not yet drag you to his house: in his position, he can do anything he wishes, and neither your father nor his senator friends can save you. Perhaps, the predator that he is, he simply enjoys the chase.

When your father summons you at the end of the fifth month, you are certain he will speak of this marriage. You are the only child of his that survived past infancy, and he cares for you greatly. You know he does not want to give you away only to see you perish from an assassin's knife or poisoned wine sent by Satoru Gojo's enemies, but he has no choice. No one can offer you protection.

Yet, your father does not speak of marriage. "Gather your things," he says firmly, a sealed letter in his hands. "Tonight, you will depart to Cilicia. A good friend of mine has offered you refuge until things will settle down here. I will send guards and servants with you. If the general asks, I will pretend you are sick and need to recover before you are seen in public."

For a second, you think you forget how to breathe. Leave? You can leave?

"But what if he still wants to visit?"

The man rubs the bridge of his nose, his eyes tired, and head bowed. "I will say you are contagious and should be kept away."

"But what if he sends me a doctor?"

When your father lifts up his greying head from his heavy wooden desk, you realize he is ready to die for the offense if only it gets you away from the Emperial bastard. You can't go. If your suitor finds out the truth, your house will burn. He will kill everyone for your father's lie.

"You will go to Cilicia even if I have to bind you by the hands and feet," your father says with such determination you know he will stay true to his word despite any pleas. You were blind to the depth of his love for you, his only child, and it brings you to tears.

When you leave, you have but a couple of maids to keep you company, all of them frightened but obedient to your father's will. For hours, you do not speak, staring into the darkness as the cart is being dragged further and further away from the capital until you no longer hear anything but the sound of hooves. You fear the uncertainty, but Satoru Gojo and the danger surrounding him scares you more. The way his eyes always seem searching for you in a crowd, his normally pale cheeks a shade of bright pink the second his gaze lands on you; the way he touches you tenderly, trembling from excitement when his hand reaches for your hair, hidden beneath the veil... There is something very disturbing about him, and you fear the future where you are his wife and his has power over you. Would he truly love you as he promised on the third day of Saturnalia? Was the man reciting poems to you like an actor on the stage of a theater truly Satoru Gojo? Or was it all a pretense to capture your attention, a predator's instinct to lure its prey? He plagues your thoughts long after you left your home.

By the time you reach the next big city, it's been days, and you crave a hot bath and a proper meal before going to sleep in a real bed: the tiny villages you crossed could offer little comfort even for big money, and everyone surrounding you is equally exhausted from long travel. You need a little rest before continuing further. Surely, one or two days won't hurt? You need to exchange the horses, anyway, and the servants and guards require rest as much as you.

While you avoid all public spaces, you cannot resist balnea that is conveniently close to your inn. You smell worse than a cattle. Far from home and surrounded by your people, you are somewhat pacified by the thought of Satoru being far away: you do not think he could have already found you. Surely, despite his status, he is only a man. Enjoying your time at the public bathes, you forget your worries for a minute, and your maids are grateful for a little respite.

When you return to your quarters, the inn is strangely quiet. You do not see it at first, chatting with the girls, all of you finally clean and proper, your skin shining in the sunlight. By the time you reach the doors, you see the blood leaking on the floor from behind them. The maids, untrained in the matters of murder, scream as you stare at the pool of crimson liquid, your body numb. Before you know it, you run.

Who is it? Who would hunt you down to kill? Satoru might be deranged, but he'd rather catch you to have you for himself instead of murdering you for defiance. It must be someone else. Is it the Emperor? Is he finally aware his younger brother is publicly humiliating himself, pleading for the hand of a woman who is below him? Is it someone else?

Tears are spilling down your cheeks as you choke on air, running the streets like a mad woman, your maids and servants abandoned somewhere behind along with everything your father gave you for protection. There is nothing you can do, alone and defenseless in a strange city. You are going to die. Oh gods, you are going to die today.

Turning away to see if anyone chases you, you suddenly crush into someone, the wind knocked out of you from such forceful encounter. You would hit the ground if the stranger did not pull you up by the hands. Disoriented, you turned your head to him, tears clouding your vision. Was he the killer? The assassin sent by the Emperor? Was he going to stab you with a knife or cut your head off and bring to his master as proof?

Instead, you hear Satoru Gojo's troubled voice, "Are you injured?"

Before you blink away the tears, he already drags you away from the street to a tiny back alley, wrapping you in his thick wool cloak to hide you from prying eyes. He shushes you, his warm hand on your head as he nudges your face into his chest, asking you to keep quiet, and you stay still, the heat of his body almost burning your skin. Another minute pass, and you hear the shouts of those who were chasing you before they fade away as men continue on, convinced you are still running ahead of them. Every single hair on your body stands on end. Someone truly sent assassins after you.

"Please, help," you plead, ready to sink to your knees and kiss Satoru's feet for a chance to get to safety. "P-please! I'll do anything you ask, just get me out of here!"

His clear blue eyes shine in the darkness of the alley when he smiles at you, his head held high as he promises proudly, "Of course, love. Stay close."

Never in those months you've known him you could imagine asking him for help. His proximity meant nothing but trouble even if he was kind to you, sending you gifts or reading poems, because danger always follows people of his statue wherever they go. Now, though, he is your only chance of leaving the city safely, and you aren't going to waste it.

You cling to him like a child to their mother, following him from an alley to an alley as he eyes the streets, his other hand on the handle of his sword, ready to draw it the second he sees a threat to you. While you never truly thought of him as a hero, used to seeing him in a rather unbecoming of a man state, Satoru Gojo is not only a good soldier: he is the best Imperial Legion can offer. Scanning the crowd, he quickly moves from one place to another without drawing attention, and you barely register as you end up next to his soldiers, all of them armed.

You fail to register your two maids among them, but they quickly remind you of themselves with their shouts, crying as they run to you. Luckily, they are unharmed, you think as you sob, too.

"We need to get moving," Satoru proclaims, saddling his steed and extending his hand to you. "Quick, come."

Needles to say, you are too scared to argue, and you mount the steed with your savior sitting just behind you. Strangely, instead of usual dread, you feel safe with him. He is here to protect you.

Your maids ride with the soldiers as you make way outside of the city, not stopping for what seems like hours to you. Not once you see your pursuers, but, perhaps, it simply fails your attention: all the soldiers Satoru brought are on guard, and you can see the unease on their faces. Indeed, you are simply lucky to get away on time.

By the time you finally stop, your thighs and back ache, and your mouth is dry as if you spent the day in a desert. You lost your new woolen palla somewhere in the city, and your long stola is torn and surely caked with dirt. Oh, your poor father would have a stroke if he could see you now.

"I'm sorry for the uncomfortable journey," your suitor smiles at you, helping you get off the horse as you moan from pain. He then wraps his spare cloak around your shoulders and puts cloth on the fallen tree for you to sit on. "The cart would slow us down, and we couldn't afford losing more time."

You ask, agitated, "Are we safe now?"

Sadly, he shakes his head. "Not until we're back in the capital. I will keep you from harm, but the assassins sent after you are not some street rats. We need to get home."

You have no tears left after today's chase, and all you do is hide your face in your palms, moaning in exhaustion. What have you done to warrant this savagery? What crime have you committed?

"Why do they want my head?" You exhale, looking up to the man in front of you, and his expression falls. Even he feels sorry for you

Landing next to you, he rubs his shoulder, seemingly tired from this race as much as you are. "You are my chosen one. They want to hurt me."

Blood rushes to your head when you hear him admit it. It is his fault. You are being hunted for the pleasure of his enemies. All the time spent avoiding and rejecting him, all these efforts to escape to Cilicia... it all is for nothing. You are already a target despite refusing marriage.

Seeing the change in your expression, Satoru is quick to grab your hands in his and speak again. "I am at fault. I should have stopped you from leaving. I have been guarding you everywhere you go since the time we met, but I cannot give you the same protection elsewhere. My enemies have been watching you since Saturnalia."

Horrified, you stare at his handsome face, his pale cheeks and the tip of his nose red from sunburn. From Saturnalia? You have been a target for so long? How did you survive for months without even realizing you were being hunted? How could your father not know someone was watching your house? Your guards? Your servants?

Satoru's rough, callous hands squeeze yours tenderly as you sob again, angry at him but still grateful for your escape. You were doomed from the start, weren't you? Nothing you could do would change anything. All of this has been for nothing, even your poor father's attempt to hide you in a faraway province. You would always end up here, with Satoru, or simply dead somewhere on the streets.

"I tried to tell you, but you did not want to listen to me," he whispers gently as he embraces you, his hands wrapped around your back as he shifts you to sit in his lap. "Please, do not weep, love. I will deliver you back to safety."

"What s-safety?" You hiccup, disillusioned with all your attempts to separate from him. "So they would watch the house of my father and strike us later?"

When the man lands a soft kiss to your forehead, you sniff, palms pressed to his chest. It's all his fault. Even if he was not stalking you for his own pleasure all this time, it's still all his fault for you ending up like this, for the death of your people.

"No, no," he reassures you quickly. "We will get married, and you will live in my house. No one can get through the gates unless I personally give them permission. If you so wish, you will not see a single soul in your chambers for months."

Sounds like a dream, you think, tired and hungry and upset. Not having to worry about your life taken in your sleep is now a luxury you cannot afford.

"You promise?" You murmur into his ear, curling against him, abandoning all modesty for why would you be modest with a man you will marry upon entering the capital?

"Promise," he whispers in response, his cheeks sickly pink again as he delivers a kiss to the top of your head.

_______

Tags: @shybluebirdninja

[two-white-butterflies]

how can beauty that is living, be anything but true?

Description: Daemon being adored and treated well by his loving wife while they talk about war and its aftermath.

Pairing: daemon targaryen/reader

A/N: quite short.

"I feared the worst when the King sent his letter," you say.

Daemon has always been unpredictable. He did as he pleased, took and took until the entire realm inevitably bent to his desires. "- three years away in war, and not a single word." You glared, seeing him take a step inside of your shared chambers.

Your handmaidens tell you that he returned during the night, and slept in a separate chamber lest he interrupt your sleep.

"I tried to write, my lady, but the enemy would strike our ravens down." He replies, amused. "You should've marched here on foot," you snapped, accepting his reason, but not letting him know.

"Targaryen princes have been taken by fickler things than war." You provided a reminder, but he silences you with a kiss to your forehead. Followed by a silent stare, a reminder that there is nothing in this world that would keep you from him.

"Yet, I am alive." He responds, though there were many nights he spent wishing otherwise. "Barely alive," you corrected. "I've heard rumors." You added with a prolonged sigh. There were at least five different rumors of his death, some say that he was impaled by arrows, hit by dozens of swords, or drowned, never to be seen again.

His expression changes for a second, but he composes himself before you even notice. "Rumors are skewed versions of the truth." He wraps his arms around your body, inhaling your scent that he has forgotten after three years smelling only sea and sand. "- but they still hold somewhat of a truth." You hiss.

"You promised me that if anything were to happen to you, that you'd return immediately." You held that promise above his head.

"Dragons don't run with their tails in between of their legs," he argues. "So, you were hurt in battle?" You raised an eyebrow.

You were aware of his duties, that he couldn't abandon them easily, but he could've at least whispered information about his welfare. "A scratch compared to the soldiers who will never return to their families," he answered the question without answering the question.

"What happened, Daemon?" your voice turns sweet at the utterance of his name. "Arrows, fire, swords, and a couple wounds to remember them by." He still refuses to tell you the whole truth. "Show me," you plead. Something behind his eyes shifts. His pupils become watery, almost leaking tears - but your husband does not cry.

He'd rather hide his sorrows behind a mask of cold callousness.

He does not take his eyes away from yours. He focuses on your features, your eyes, your lips, your nose - features that he's engraved in the back of his head to save him from the brutal pictures that unfolded in front of him during battle.

He gently unbuttons his tunic. He takes your hand and places it on the healed skin. A wound that spanned from his shoulder down to his stomach diagonally. "All I could think about while fighting that battle was how stupid my brother and his hand are for believing that I want to supplant Rhaenyra and claim his throne as mine." Daemon laughs.

"Men like that, my lady, those who sit on iron thrones know nothing about war. Soldiers die on the battlefield to ensure our safety, to ensure that our stone castles remain fortified against invaders. They know nothing of the mothers and wives that have lost their sons and husbands. I scorn my brother, I really do." He whispers, lest anyone except you hears his confession.

"I cannot even imagine the depths of your sorrow, lord husband." Your eyebrows merged together, wrapping him in a warm embrace. "I made it mine advocacy to return home. I could not bear to think of your sadness. Young, very beautiful and widowed." He breathes.

"I love you, Daemon."

"Likewise, my lady."

[adams-angels]

I want to see my man in pain, Adam break down after reader said they want to break up (fluff in the end pls) 😞

I reaaaally enjoyed writing this

I love pain 🥹

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Used

Adam POV

It was a normal night. Out talking to some babes. Tellin' them how great I am. Because, well, I AM! HA! I'm the first fucking man! These bitches swarm me. Who am I to deny them. I check my phone a see y/n has text me. "Ugh, what do you want now you needy fuckin'" I can't believe what I'm reading.

"we're done."

My heart sinks. Why is it sinking. I don't care. I'm fucking ADAM!! Adam stands, pushing away the crowd of angels surrounding him and tries calling you. "Come on.. come on, pick up, you dumb bitch." No answer. NO FUCKING ANSWER. His head spins. Panic sets in as. This isn't happening. Not again.

You think you're better than me?! You're nothing! I'm Adam!! I can get ANYONE I FUCKING WANT YOU THINK I NEED YOU?!

I'VE GOT TONS OF BITCHES WAITING FOR ME!

I DONT NEED YOU I NEVER NEEDED YOU!

He tries calling you again. No answer. "FUCK!" He expands his wings and shoots up, smashing through the skylight. He continues to text and call as he makes his away to your apartment. "FUCKING ANSWER ME!" He screams into his phone. By the time he arrives at your apartment he calms himself down, "I can get them back." He thinks to himself as he lands on your balcony. "They didn't mean it. They couldn't of."

As he reaches for the handle of the sliding door his hand shakes. "No, no, no, no." He grips onto his wrist stepping back from the door, being stopped my the railing. He slides down to the floor. "No, no, no...." His voice cracks, fear, sadness, anger. He never let himself get close. At least that's what he told himself. After the second wife also betrayed him he swore he'd never care so he would never hurt. But somewhere along the way, he fell for you. Although he denied himself.

He rushed to remove his mask, feeling like he can't breathe. Once he got it off he threw it aside. Clutching at his chest as tears escaped from his eyes. "No, no, no.." he whimpered. He sat on the floor for an hour. Thinking about you. What he did wrong. If he did something terrible. Why you're ending it. There wasn't even anything to end and yet his world felt like it was crashing around him.

Once he calmed down he leaned forward and sighed. Wiping his cheeks as he stood up and put his mask back on. He reached for the handle, hesitating before opening the sliding door. He sees you in your bed, asleep. He closed the door quietly and just watched you. For about half an hour before he realised how much a creep he's being. He walked into your livingroom. He's been here plenty times before. He memorized the layout.

He walks over to one of your succulents. You loved them. Once he came over and accidentally knocked one on the floor. You were so upset. He didn't see the big deal but he still went out of his way to buy you a new pot for it and a new succulent altogether. Just something to say he was sorry without actually saying sorry. He smiled as he remembered your joy. He sat on the couch and waited.

A couple hours later he heard rustling in your room. He shot up from the couch and heading to your bedroom, freezing at the doorway as he sees you wake. You scream in surprise, falling off your bed. He noticed your phone falling off the nightstand with you. His chest tightens. Your phone. Those horrible texts. "Adam?! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!" You yell at him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He stands there, feeling awkward. "You want to leave me?" He asked, trying hard to not break his voice. You tut, he watches at you stand, wanting to help but to afraid to move. "You say that like you cared." You snap, picking your phone up from the floor. "Don't look at that." He took a step towards you, reaching out but you recoiled. "Why? You next me nasty shit? Telling me I'm worthless? That I was lucky to -" he interrupted, "y/n, I'm sorry. I just want to know what I did wrong."

Adam braces himself. For you to yell. For you to scream. For you to tell him you love someone else. "I just... I can't... I don't want to be a place holder for you." His shoulders slump down he hesitantly steps closer to you "What are you talking about?" He carefully slides his hand under yours "I don't want to be someone you just use until you find someone better." His fingers interlace with your as his other hand brushes your hair from you face. His breath catches seeing your red, watery eyes "I just want to be... I don't know, Adam."

His hand cups your face. He looks into your eyes and for the first time in eons he chose to be vulnerable. "Be mine?" He watches you shrug. Rightfully assuming you've misunderstood his request he clarifies "no, I'm asking. Be mine." The way you look at him makes his chest tighten in fear. "What?" He recoiled. "I mean, maybe we could start again? Like.. properly?"

"You mean like.. date? What happened to "I don't date. I'm the first man. I have the first penis ever bla bla!"" He glares at you. Of course you'd remember that. "I don't sound like that." "You do." Adam brow furrows in in frustration. "Whatever, y/n, please. I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you. Please don't leave me." He felt pathetic. He was pathetic. "I'll have to think about it." His chest tightened. His heart beating a million miles a minute. You'd see how pale he would be if he wasn't wearing the mask. "H-how long will that take?" He asked, desperation leaking out of him.

"I don't know, Adam." You shrug. The air was thick. He was struggling to breath and needed to get out of there. "I really care about you, y/n. You have to believe me, babe." He kisses your hand before releasing it. "Just.. uh... Delete those texts. I didn't mean any of it." He heads to the sliding door he entered from, opening it and expanding his wings as he jumps off. He looks behind to see if you watched leave like you've done so maybe times before. But you're not there.

It's been a month. A whole month. It should feel like nothing to him considering how long he's been in existence yet it feels like a years. He sees you about. With your friends. Getting groceries. Whenever his eyes catch on to you he freezes. No matter what he's doing.

He can't keep this up. He didn't want to pressure you. Make you feel like you had to choose him. But fuck he needed you to choose him. He was in his office. But he couldn't focus. He was so tired, not being able to sleep well without you. Even if he didn't sleep the whole night it was always nice knowing you were there no matter what. At least that's what he used to think.

He checked his phone to see nothing from you. It was too much. He was alone. You were never coming back. No one ever comes back. Lilith left him. Eve left him. Now you. "Fuck. FUCK!" He picks up his coffee and punts it at the wall. He can't stay here. He needs to find you. He needs you back.

He swung the door open and there you were. He couldn't believe it. He thought you'd at least text him. Not show up at his office! His feathers were literally ruffled, his office looks like a bombs hit it. "Y/n?" He said softly, it was like time stopped for a minute. He wish it did. Then he could scoop you in his arms and never let you leave. He snapped back into reality changing his expression quickly, not want anyone to see a softer side to him. "Come in." He stands aside letting you in to his office. He hates that you didn't text. He would of cleaned up there were documents everywhere, a smashed mug on the floor and coffee stains on the wall. He hated it was such a mess for you. "Bad day?" You commented he grumbled in response. "There are no bad days in heaven." He mumbled as he slumps down on his office chair.

Resting his chin on the back of his hand as he watches you walk over to his office window, opening it. The musky smell almost dissipating immediately "So... I thought about it." He perks up, sitting straight, watching you like a hawk. "And?"

"and I'm willing to start again. Properly." He immediately bolts from his chair, wrapping his arms around you. "Fuck, thank fucking Christ. Don't do that to me again. Please." His voice breaks, wings surrounded the both of you. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll treat you so much better." "Promise?" "Yes, promise."

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

[love-anddeepression]

absolutely obsessed with protective dad miguel omg, like if on a mission where a villains being a creep he would be so feral cause THAATS HIS DAUGHTER so joel coded

Hope you like this nonnie<3333 sorry if there’s any typos.

Tw: a creep. Panic attacks and feelings of inadequacy

"You know, of all the super-heroes I've fought, I'm going to enjoy defeating you the most." the villain grins and chokes you harder, his other hand travels down the side of your spidersuit and he pins you against a wall, "I think it's the suit."

"What is wrong with you dude?" you wheeze out.

He only punches you and his hand moves from your throat to your jaw, "Careful, girly. Or I might not be as merciful as I'm being right now."

You huff, "Yeah, sure. Okay.”

You only realise he’s being serious when his eyes turn animalistic and he grips your cheeks so your mouth is slightly open. That’s when you start to thrash around. Kicking everywhere and you manage to snag him in the balls and he doubles over.

You immediately break out into a run and let out a thwip of webs to swing above him.

Unbeknownst to you or the villain, Miguel O’Hara himself is swinging at full speed to that very alleyway because he was eyes on you.

The moment, he saw the villain acting the way he did, he decided one thing.

He was going to make him suffer.

The villain finally got to his feet and let out a breath and a groan.

He heard a sound behind him, from the dark of the alleyway and dared to turn around.

Two red eyes stared into his own.

He disappeared into the darkness as he was pulled in by garnet webs. The only thing that could be heard were shrieks of pain and the sound of bones being broken.

The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a snarl, “You will never touch anyone ever again.”

——————-

You were huddled in a corner of a balcony, hugging your knees as you replayed the memory over and over again. Every breath you took hurt and only quickened with each passing moment.

It’s not that serious you idiot what is wrong with you now he’s probably gotten away and Miguel is going to be pissed

You flinch at the sound of someone landing on the balcony. And you almost let out a sob in relief when you hear Miguel’s voice.

His head whips to where you are and his mask disintegrates. His eyes widen a little and he makes himself a bit smaller and says your name softly.

Your breathing slows a little as he breathes with you. Guiding you and his hand hesitantly brings your own away from where it’s holding your hair tightly.

“You’re okay.” His voice is soft and calm, “I’m here.”

With a hiccup you throw your hands around him, “I’m sorry, I fucked up.”

“Hey.” He pats your back soothingly, “it’s okay. I got him. The mission is over.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to.” Your voice breaks against his shoulder and so does his heart.

“I don’t care.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Almost.”

You pull back to look into his eyes, “sorry.”

“Shut up.never apologise. No one hurts my kid and and gets away with it.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious. Understand?” He cups your cheeks softly, and your face scrunches up as tears form, “oh babygirl.” He breathes out as you start to sob.

“I just.. don’t want to be a burden.” You wheeze out between sobs.

That’s when he understands it’s not just about that asshole.

“You’re not a burden, honey.” He says against your hair as you hug him again.

He shushes you as your sobs only grow.

“Hey. Hey.” He pulls you away gently to look you in the eyes, “look at me. You’re not a burden. You’re a valuable asset to this team and we’re all lucky to have you. If anyone of them even heard what you’re saying right now, they’d be shocked. And then they’d be mad. I know that this feeling won’t go away immediately, but for today, know that none of this is your fault.”

“But he could have gotten away.”

“But he didn’t.” He reassures you.

“I can’t screw up like this, Miguel.”

“You can’t blame yourself. He was being a fucking creep and you ran away. It’s alright. You’re human.” He says your name to make a point. “And that’s okay. Okay?”

You breathe heavily and nod.

“Good. Now? Do you want to takeout? We can watch Star Wars back at home.”

You flash him a small smile, “yes please.”

He smiles and takes your hand, “Come on.”

You hug him once again and shake your head against his shoulder.

“You just wiped your nose on me, didn’t you?”

“No, what are you talking about?”

You know that the suit is a hologram right?”

“So the snot is on your shoulder?”

“I swear to god.”

[archangeldyke-all]

Omg fucking stupid thing I thought of but like Sevika with a reader who is literally her number one apologist

Oh she got into deep shit? “I saw nothing actually” <— (quite literally was there)

Oh she murdered a man? “I mean.. did we ever take time to consider why she killed them? I mean, they could have looked at her wrong! I mean, I would if I were her too—“

Oh Sevika was being an asshole? “So? And I was backing her up 😇🫶🏼”

this is so me, she'd chop finn's head clean off in front of me and i'd be like 'babe ur so silly! omg u have blood on ur arm!! lemme clean it for u...'

men and minors dni

sevika knows you're loyal to her.

in the five years you've been together, sevika's never once worried about your eyes wandering or you sneaking around on her.

but it's more than that.

you ride or die for sevika.

she realizes this the first time she's home to watch you talk to an enforcer.

sevika and silco's deal with marcus means they get away with most their dealings in the undercity-- but from time to time, to avoid questions, marcus will have to send a rookie down to the undercity to 'investigate.'

usually, the kid will snoop around for half a day, before high-tailing it right back up to piltover.

sometimes-- they actually try to investigate some of the evidence.

and, once or twice a year, one of the rookies will even have big enough balls to try to question sevika herself.

she's on the couch reading when someone knocks on your door. she's on high alert as she watches you open the door, her hackles rising when she sees the uniform standing on your front stoop.

"sorry to bother you so late at night, miss, is this the residence of a 'sevika'?" the enforcer asks.

sevika huffs, rolling her eyes and biting back her annoyed groan. she's in no fucking mood to deal with this. she's about to haul herself off the couch and take over for you, when you speak again.

"who?" you ask.

sevika blinks-- unsure if she heard you correctly.

"s-sevika?" the man tries again.

"sevika? i've never heard of a 'sevika' living in this neighborhood..." you say. sevika realizes what you're up to, and a smile breaks across her face. "do you mean savannah? there's a savannah a few blocks south, she owns a barbershop off third..." you suggest.

the rookie studies you for a second, and you just blink up at him innocently.

sevika has to smack a hand over her mouth when the idiot buys your act, sighing and slumping before turning around to leave your front stoop. "thank you for your time ma'am. sorry again for bothering you so late."

"put your gas mask on, young man, you'll hurt your lungs down here!" you call after him, waving sweetly as you watch him wander down the street.

you grunt and roll your eyes, your sweet smile dropping the moment he turns the corner, before you turn around and walk back inside your home, slamming and locking the door behind you.

sevika tackles you to the ground, kissing you fiercely. you burst into giggles. "what's this for?" you ask.

sevika can't stop laughing against your lips. "you're so amazing." she giggles. you just huff and roll your eyes.

"thought i'd turn you in?" you ask. sevika shakes her head.

"no-- didn't think you'd lie to a cop for me though."

you blink up at her, suddenly serious, and sevika's heart swells. "sevika. i'd do anything for you."

sevika has to hide her flustered face against your shoulder at this.

over the years, she realizes how much you meant the words.

you come home one night and find her panicking, a dead body in your living room blood soaked into her skin and clothes. you just blink, take a deep breath, and snap into action.

sevika watches in a daze as you gently guide her to sit on the couch, kissing her and calming her down as you strip her of her bloody clothes and toss them ontop of the dead man in the middle of your home.

you don't even ask her questions. you just gently guide her to the bathroom, and treat her like she's just got a cold, or something.

"you're so pretty." you whisper as you wash her clean.

you dress her in her jammies and put her to bed.

sevika stays awake, listening to you call ran and silco over, and then listening to the three of you clean up the mess for the rest of the night.

when you crawl into bed beside her at the end of the night, smelling vaguely of fire and gasoline and bleach-- sevika turns onto her side and grabs your hand.

"you okay, my love?" you whisper.

"will you marry me?" sevika asks.

you burst into giggles and agree, kissing sevika sweetly before dragging her onto your chest and scratching her scalp as she falls asleep.

it's not even the serious shit that you back her up on either. it's the dumb, petty shit too.

you can be sitting on her lap during a game of cards; muffling your giggles against her shoulder when sevika cheats by hiding a few of her cards one second, and the next you're swearing on your grandmother's life that sevika's never cheated during a game when one of her opponent's accuses her of hiding cards.

you hear her voice rise a bit when she gets in an argument with a goon, and you're by her side at lightspeed, glaring at whoever dared to question her authority, cracking your knuckles to back up her threats. when the goon stumbles away, nearly crying in fear, sevika turns to you with a guilty look.

"what?" you ask.

"i realized halfway through that i was yelling at the wrong kid... they all wear the same grungy eyeliner-- i can't tell these fuckers apart." she admits.

you burst into giggles and pull her in for a hug, and sevika finds out years later that you ended up tracking down the kid you'd both threatened and buying him dinner to apologize.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty @claude999

[monkepawbz]

Scars

A Deadpool x (female) Y/N oneshot about Wade hating his body and Y/N comforting him through the self hatred and heartbreak of losing Vanessa. (This takes place somewhere after Deadpool 3!)

"Let me see your face...take off the mask, Wade..." she pleaded, wanting to see Wade's real face. For years he had always kept the mask on, as well as the rest of the suit, and Y/N had finally grown tired of her friend/crush never letting her see the real him.

Wade's eyes fluttered closed as he hesitated for a moment, his hand reaching up to remove the mask. As he slowly removed it, he winced in shame.

"Y/N... You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?" Wade laughed joylessly, shaking his head slightly. He slowly lifted his gaze, revealing the gruesome extent of his disfigurement. His light blue eyes gleamed with a mix of vulnerability and intensity as he gazed at her. "This is what I've become. This is who I am now." The man frowned, not able to look at the woman in front of him.

She smiled softly at him, her eyes full of love and sincerity.

"You're wonderful..." she breathed, reaching up to softly caress his cheek. The mutated skin was rough against her softer fingertips, the contrast sending electricity through her veins.

Wade's expression faltered, his eyes searching hers as if trying to understand her words.

"Y/N..." The merc trailed off, his voice caught in his throat for a moment. He continued to look at her, expecting this to be some sort of trick.

"You're not supposed to say things like that. I'm a fucked up freak, remember? A walking disaster with a face only a mother could love. Shit, not even a mother could love this dumpster fire!" He looked away, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Promise me this isn't some fucked up prank or something...okay?" He pleaded.

She nodded. "I promise it's real, Wade. I think you're incredibly handsome. I just wish that you didn't hide your face away from me for so long..."

She heard him let out a long sigh, leaning back on the couch and slumping a bit dejectedly.

"I know...so much for being a good buddy, huh?" He muttered.

Wade had been friends with Y/N for a few years now, the two of them meeting when he ended up saving her from one of the people he was hired to kill. They hit it off afterwards and found comfort in one another's weirdness. It was a friendship that was deep, however...Y/N eventually fell in love with him. Watching Wade be with Vanessa was one of the hardest things she had to go through, however the relationship seemed to end as the two of them seemed to want different things in life.

"Wade...how are you doing? Are you doing okay since she..." Y/N trailed off, her throat constricting with anxiety. She looked up at him, expecting Wade to be upset. He made a small noise, his lips pressed into a straight line. After a moment, he attempted to smile.

"I'm fine, Y/N. I couldn't be better, actually! I saved the world recently! Got a cool new roommate! I call him Wolfy but he fuckin' hates it. I also have the cutest little puppy in the world now!" He beamed. Despite the happiness he tried to convey, there was something deeper in those baby blues. She looked at him, scrunching her face in concentration as she tried to read him. His eyes darted around the room, confused.

"What's all this about?" He pointed at her with a gloved hand. She shook her head and shushed him.

"You're lying. There's something else." She retorted, not convinced.

"Fuckin...alright FINE, Y/N, you got me!" He threw up his hands in mock surrender. "I like you, okay? And I've been trying to figure out whatever the HELL I'm feeling so I don't drag you down to the firey pits below with me! I mean, shit! You're a decently normal person and I'm a ticking time bomb waiting to ruin some other person's life." Wade rambled, hurt apparent in his eyes.

Y/N gently pulled him into a warm hug, and he froze.

"What is...?" he was shushed by her as she gently rubbed circles into his back, the Deadpool suit's texture feeling good against her skin.

"You don't have to be okay right now. You are hurt, and you loved her. I'm not asking you to love me right away, or even at all. However, I have to admit I have loved you for many years now. And I think you are incredibly handsome, charming and funny to be around." She explained. Wade hesitated, pulling away and standing.

"What are you saying, Y/N...?" He asked, eyes wide in shock. She looked up at him and smiled.

"I love you, Wade Wilson. I always have, and if you ever want someone to help mend that broken heart...I would like to volunteer. And I love you, scars and all." Y/N's words were soft and sweet, and Wade felt how genuine she was being.

"I...need some more time...but...yeah. I think I would like that, peanut." He gave her a lopsided smile.

"Then...how about this. We can start slow. I can try to give you healthy if you try to give me the same. We can figure this out together, even if it's messy." She held his hand in her own, giving it a light squeeze. Wade nodded.

"Deal." He said, and for once he seemed to actually believe that maybe, just maybe, someone didn't mind his scars.

[lycheedr3ams]

Choke on It ~ (part 1)

Fem!reader x hard!dom!konig

MDNI! NSFW!

Part 2

This is complete filfth and probably the most sinful thing i've ever written. not proofread

TW: gun kink, mean konig, hard dom konig, choking on his massive dick, slight masochism, hair-pulling, mask kink, swallowing his cum, lmk if I missed anything

(I'm not sure if a gun kink counts as dark content, so just be aware of this. Always use safe words and enthusiastic consent! Don't try this stuff at home.)

A few weeks ago, you told Konig that you'd like to...experiment in the bedroom a bit. He was usually a little rough, given his massive size and strength, but his words and the way he looked at you was always so gentle and loving. And you were fucking tired of it. You wanted him to just use you like you knew he could.

"I just want you to be really rough, for once," you explained to him one night. "I know you can use me however you want. Please, just do that."

His eyes widened in surprise, with a hint of worry. "Are you sure, Liebling?" he asked, concerned. "I don't want to hurt you."

You looked him right in the eyes as you said, "That's exactly what I want, Konig. Show me that I belong to you. I want you to do anything. You can even... bring a gun into it. I don't care."

His breath stopped for a moment as he stared at you like a deer in the headlights. This massive beast of a soldier, who has killed so many people, is frightened by your words.

"If...if that's what you want...." he said nervously. But he couldn't help the excitement that started to blossom in his chest at the thought of finally being in control in the bedroom for once. He was always so willing to submit.

"Just surprise me, okay baby? Really, nothing is off the table."

Konig nodded and thought hard for the next few weeks.

.......

You didn't think it would happen tonight. You were just laying in your shared bed in you and Konig's apartment when he came back from maintenance training during his time off. When you heard the door shut as he entered, you got off the bed and happily walked up to him with a smile.

"Glad you're back from work," you say as you wrap your arms around his massive frame. But he doesn't hug you back. You look up at him, confused. "Are you all right? Did you have a bad day?" you ask.

His sniper hood was still on, and he was wearing the more casual camo pants and a tight black shirt, still drenched with sweat from his workout. He looked down at you without any emotion in his eyes.

"Kneel," he commanded with a low, raspy voice.

You looked up at him, blinking in confusion.

"Did you fucking hear me?" he asked as he looked down at you.

You gasped. "Y...yes. I was... just surprised, is all," you say as you begin to sink on your knees. Before both of your knees can even reach the hardwood floor, his gloved hand tangles tightly in your hair, and he pushes your face right into his crotch. You can smell his musk through his pants.

"You fucking wanted this, so you'll take it," he growled from above you. "You know what to do."

You look up at him with wide eyes before nodding and quickly undoing his belt and sliding the zipper down. Before you can even reach to pull him from his boxers, you can feel how hot and hard he is.

"You're so hard, Konig," you observed. He pulled your hair, and you yelped in pain.

"I didn't tell you to speak, now did I?" he said punishingly. "The only time your mouth should be open is when you're choking on my fucking cock. I haven't got all night."

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. This is it - this is exactly what you wanted, and you felt shame as you could feel yourself drenching your panties. You quickly pulled his hard length out from his sweaty boxers, and the scent of his sweat almost made you faint. You pumped his thick, hot length in your hand before roughly pushed your hand away and shoved your mouth down on his cock with his thumb and index finger prying your mouth open. Tears instantly sprang into your eyes from the sting of his entire length shoved into your mouth so quickly. You could feel his thick, hot tip poking the back of your throat.

He groaned above you and shoved your face down so that your nose brushed against his pubes. You coughed and sputtered with him still in your mouth, and he shook his head at you.

"Come on, you're used to my length by now, are you not?" he mocked with a teasing smirk hidden by his sniper hood. "Fucking. Take. It." He commanded, each word punctuated by a thrust of his hips into your throat. His cock touched your tonsil each time and you couldn't stop choking. He roughly pulled you off his cock by your hair and stared down at you, shaking his head as you choked and spit dribbled out of your mouth and onto the hardwood floor.

"Fucking pathetic," Konig spat. You looked up at him, hoping for some sort of comfort from your normally loving boyfriend, but only saw a demon in that moment. "Relax your throat, yeah?" he said before suddenly shoving your mouth onto his wet cock again. You were more prepared for it this time, but nothing could stop your gags when he thrusted past your tonsils. He pulled you off his cock again and let go of your hair as he reached for something tucked in a back pocket.

Your eyes widened as you coughed when you saw him holding the hand-gun that he always conceal carries. He stared at you as he turned the safety on. But it was still loaded. You looked up at him, and he almost felt pity before he harshly reached down and dragged you back to your knees by your hair.

"You're going to fucking take it, and not choke, do you understand?" he commanded as he held the end of the gun right against your head. The cold metal poked into your skull, a contrast from the warm fingers of his gloved hand in your hair. You gulped as you look up at him. He shoved the gun deeper in your skull.

"I asked you a question," he growled as he bent over you.

"Yes! I understand!" You squeaked as you nodded.

Satisfied with your answer, Konig shoved you on his length again. One hand holding the back of your head and forcing you on his cock, the other holding the gun that was shoved against the side of your head. You felt completely powerless as he thrusted deep into your throat and groaned above you. You hollowed out your cheeks and wrapped your tongue around him, trying to focus on that rather than your gag reflex and the gun against your head.

"Scheisse," Konig hissed. He looked down at you and saw your heavenly face: your nose shoved right against his pubes, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks, and your throat bobbing as you struggled to take him.

"All you need is a gun to your head to make you behave, is that it?" he teased as his cock twitched. "I know you're so fucking wet right now. This is what you asked me for, remember?"

You closed your eyes as you tried to nod with his length halfway down your throat. Spit was dripping down your chin and down your throat, and Konig laughed at the sight.

"So desperate for this cock, aren't you?" he teased further. He suddenly stopped thrusting and instead used your hair to move your head up and down his cock, your lips wrapping perfectly around his thick length. You could feel one prominent vein slide against your bottom lip with each stroke. You sucked hard on his tip each thrust, and he began to tremble.

"Don't fucking stop," he said as he gripped your hair tighter. The tingling pain of having your hair pulled was almost just as unbearable as his cock down your throat. He dropped the gun and placed his hands on either side of your head as he thrusted into your mouth at a frantic pace before he came loudly down your throat. You could feel his hot cum spurting and sliding down your esophagus. He finally pulled you off of him, and you nearly collapsed on the floor as you gripped your throat, coughing loudly and with spit dripping down your chin.

Konig took off his sniper hood and sat on the floor with you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed gently.

"My love, are you okay?" he asked with worry plainly laced in his voice. "I hope I wasn't too rough with you..."

You shook your head, your throat unable to form words. You offered him a tired smile as you placed your hand on his thigh.

"Oh, you can't speak?" he asked as you shook your head "no."

"I'm sorry, Liebling, here," he picked you up easily and set you down on the couch. Part of you wishes he would throw you around the living room too. "Let me get you some water." Konig disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, which you drank gratefully. He sat next to you and you cuddled close to him as he gently stroked your hair and undid the knots he created.

hehe

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hello! How are you doing? I was wondering if I could get a fic of maybe something angst with Miles Earth 42? Maybe reader and him have an argument about him being the Prowler?

Full Of Apologies But Never Sorry

You stared down at your hands, completely still and shocked.

You only came into Miles' room after his mom let you in, and you didn't snoop, you never did.

You never needed too. Miles was honest with you.

You merely came to talk because he called you, saying he wanted to apologize for missing your date and he had a surprise for you.

Maybe the surprise was real, they always were, but the relationship was not.

Now, as you held the Prowler suit in your hands, you realized everything, every missed date, call, text and every time you asked what he did for work, was a lie.

You had watched the Prowler hurt, steal and once even kill, maybe more when you didn't see. Miles knew you didn't like the Prowler,

Only now do you remember the look in his eye, on his face and how he grew rigid whenever he came up on TV, or every time you said something.

You could snap out of your stare at the suit, barely when you heard his footsteps, the door on turn and open with a click.

You could feel his stare, imagining the smile that always was on his face when he looked at you.

Now you could barely stomach turning to look at him.

"Oye, llegaste antes, amor." Miles said, his smile small as you could hear him chuckle on his breath, walking closer.

Your back was to him before you finally turned around, barely able to look at him through your own anger.

"Care to explain what this is?" You barely let him get close, holding up the Prowler suit.

Miles stared at you confused for a moment, looking at the suit before it finally dawned on him.

You knew.

The one thing he needed you to never know.

You knew.

"Were you looking through my shit?" Miles asked, scoffing in his own anger as you returned it with a scowl.

"Well, you're the one who left it lying on the floor like a dumbass!" You put it nicely, tossing the costume into his chest as he caught it, staring down at it for a second.

"You're the goddamn Prowler?" You could barely mutter, staring at who you once thought was a loving boyfriend, but now someone you barely know.

"(Name)- I had to." Miles tried to explain, losing his words for once, losing every preparation he had in case this happened.

Because it wasn't supposed to happen.

"You had to do what?" You scoffed, looking at him with something he had never seen towards him, anger and maybe disgust.

"Become some criminal in the goddamn night? The hell are you? Batman?!" You said, throwing your hands up as Miles rolled his eyes.

"I do it to protect you, my mom, Uncle Aaron! It's how I get money for us all!" Miles tried to justify.

"You think that's how it's supposed to go?! Miles, if you're the Prowler, that means everytime someone on TV got hurt, robbed or even killed, was you!" You exclaimed, barely holding yourself through it all.

"Yeah, I think it is! It's how life is, ma! I do what I have to do! And I didn't see you complaining about the money that I got from it when I got you shit."

You laughed humorously at his words, sarcastically clapping your hands in fake praise.

"Wow! Great job, Miles! You won this whole thing!" You gave a fake smile, watching as his face contorted into annoyance.

"I never told you to buy me shit. I told you to stop buying me stuff because it made me feel guilty about all the money you were spending." You explained thoroughly, Miles crossing his arms over his chest.

"I spent it because I care about you, I wanted to show that! Being the Prowler makes that happen." Miles said, watching as you sighed.

"Being the Prowler, makes you a criminal. I love you, yeah, but I've watched you, under that mask," You pointed to the very mask in his hands.

"Choke a man in front of me, in front of his kid, in a robbery you knew affected me. I know that man, his kid I babysat, and I watched you choke him to death."

You said, tears filling your eyes out of anger as Miles couldn't help but look down in almost shame.

"You held me when I cried after I got back from his funeral. You bought me dinner and you bought me a gift after that to 'make me feel better'." You said, your voice choked.

"Did you buy that crap with the money you got from killing him?" You asked, quietly as you waited for an answer.

Miles couldn't lie, so he nodded.

You could feel your heart almost cracking in two. The feeling in your chest is ever-lasting.

You nodded, looking away from him and around his room, every night you spent here was spent in his arms, the arms that you thought were safe, maybe for you, but not to others he harmed, and that was what scared you.

If he could do it to them, what about you?

"...I can't do this." You muttered, shaking your head as you wiped your tears, refusing to cry because of him, walking quickly to brush past him.

Miles finally could look up, barely able to look at you as you reached for the handle, quickly grabbing your hand to keep you with him.

"(Name), no-" Miles tried, not wanting you to walk out that door and possibly leave him for good.

You tugged your hand away from Miles, only turning to look at him with your hand still on the handle, never wavering.

"So, that's just- that's just it? Does this mean it's over, or what? Is it permanent?" Miles barely got out, not wanting to accept it.

Miles didn't want to be left alone, he was alone after his dad died, you helped just by being around him.

But you were walking out the door, out on him.

And he didn't know if he could get you back when you did.

He just knew it was happening, and he didn't want to accept it.

You barely were able to look at Miles, feeling something bubbling up your throat, your eyes refusing to cry but watered.

You could barely talk, but you needed to. You needed to get out and away.

Even if it meant forever.

"...I don't know, Miles." You admitted, Miles staring into your eyes with his own heartbreak, wanting to desperately keep you with him like once before.

But now, Miles was forced to watch as you turned away, opening the door quickly, almost running out and down the hall.

Miles didn't move from where he stood, hearing the apartment door open, never wavering as it shut.

Miles didn't move for a long time. He was almost scared too. Something he hadn't been in a while.

He held his Prowler suit in his hands, once thinking of it as a means of protection for everyone he loved, but now resentment and something that kept what could've been.

Miles stayed there for who knows how long.

Because if he moved, he would need to look around and see you were gone.

And he didn't want to accept that you were gone.