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#but i'm not i'm choosing to take care of him and shit
This sweet plague that follows me (this violence that I call my own)
This is how it feels to take a fall - series masterlist here
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pairing: takami keigo x reader (gender neutral)
length: 2.1k
genre: hurt/comfort, fluff
warnings: lots of blood but not from keigo or reader, it's just kinda everywhere, this entire fic is a biohazard, they're mentally ill but they're in love
a/n: back on my hawks shit ig turns out it never ever goes away
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Keigo thinks, as he lets the door shut behind him, that maybe this life of his was inevitable - this sacrifice was unavoidable. He thinks that, perhaps, there are some people who need to spend their lives fighting, who need to beat their fists against flesh and split their lips on the bloody knuckles of their rivals. 
There are people who find peace only in war, and Keigo, so often, wishes he were not one of these people. As he kicks his boots off and tosses his phone on the side table, stepping further into his entryway, he thanks whatever's out there that he, at least, doesn't have to do it alone - that he's found someone to build a home with in this violence of his.
He doesn't bother changing out of his hero uniform when he sits on the couch, slouching into the cushions. It was a rough patrol - one that left him with scrapes and bruises, blood dripping from his jacket, drying on his hands. Maybe, he thinks as he rubs his palms together, the dark red coming off in little flecks, settling into the carpet, maybe if I was someone else, this would bother me. Maybe if I was something else.
But the violence in him stays, wrapping around him and choking him from the inside out. He stares down at his hands, palms facing up as he glares. How can I say I'm good when they've done so much bad, he thinks. There's a sort of desperation in him as he reaches for the remote, turning on the television, wanting some sort of background noise to drown the whirring of his thoughts out, to drown his voice out, to drown him, to -
But then there you are, on the news - still working. Still fighting. Still bleeding. Keigo chokes, his hands balling into fists as he watches, as he sees you, blood marring your hero uniform. Not really your blood, he notes, but a stain, nonetheless. And there's still that wild look in your eyes, a ferocity that couldn't be stamped out. The reporter drones on about your reputation, your blood-soaked, violence-stained reputation. Brutality, war, violence - all for the sake of peace.
We get our hands dirty so that normal people don't have to. That's what you'd always said to him. Keigo never had the heart to tell you that he didn't think either of you deserved to have to be these things.
But neither of you got to choose this life - this calling, thrust upon you. Neither of you chose to be raised this way, trained this way, a violence so ingrained in you that you cannot be anything else anymore.
There are few things Keigo gets to choose in this life. Loving you, though - that is something he chooses every day. Waiting for you - that is something he would choose until the end of time. So he waits, turning the TV off with a sigh and tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. As he sags down onto the couch, he can't make himself care about the blood that seeps into it - although he wonders idly how many new couches he could buy with the money he makes from wrapping his hands around other people's throats.
But they're villains, he reminds himself. But isn't he? Aren't you, for the things that you do? Keigo, most of the time, doesn't think he knows where the line is anymore. You always do, he finds, and as he listens to the sound of the front door clicking open, he finds himself breathing a sigh of relief that you're back, that some tether to morality and sanity has returned to his life.
"Hey birdie," you call softly,  and it's wrong, the way your voice comes out soft and tender and delicate; it lurches in contrast to the way you pull off your jacket, heavy with the weight of blood, and let it drop onto the floor with a dull splat. But he looks at you - at your eyes, warm and soft and loving. A trickle of blood trails down your temple and the couch cushion dampens under his weight, blood seeping into it.
Whatever, he thinks. I'll call the cleaners in. It's not like it would be the first time. It's not like it will be the last. Keigo leans forward, tips himself onto his feet so that he can make his way over to where you still stand in the entryway.
"Hey, dove," he says softly. When he gets to you, he holds your face in his hands with a gentleness that feels like it shouldn't belong to him, a benevolence that feels stolen, his hands having been wiped clean hastily on his pants, leaving trails of crimson behind. 
But he just smoothes his thumb across your cheek, maps himself out a clean spot so he can press his lips to it, and the touch is so soft that you find yourself holding your breath, your heart thumping painfully against your ribs. Because when, you think, did touch become so soft? And when did we become deserving of it?
"Leave it here," Keigo shushes you softly, prying ever so gently at your clenched fists to loosen your grip on whatever happened out there, his nose brushing against your cheek as he speaks against your skin. "Leave it out there. It's safe in here." That's all it takes, really, a sigh leaving you as you let your head thump against his shoulder, fist loosening enough that he can tangle his fingers with yours and bring you closer to him. The blood on you presses against him, staining his jacket more. Neither of you find it in you to care - it's not the first time, and it won't be the last.
"You need to clean yourself up," you mumble against his shoulder, fatigue seeping into your voice. Keigo huffs out a laugh, poking your side gently.
"You're one to talk," he quips back, but there's no real bite, especially when he moves to tug you down the hallway toward your shared bathroom. You grumble as you walk after him, letting him pull you by your hand as you pretend to put up a fight. But there's never really any fights here, in this home that you share. Keigo thrives on it, notably - being able to take care of you, being able to channel that fight in him into protectiveness and have his hands heal for once.
Back when the two of you were younger, when you were both hot-headed rivals battling for the top hero ranking, you'd always argued that there was peace to be found in war.
"Don't you understand, Hawks?" You'd said to him. "You can't have one without the other."
He never knew what you meant by that until you had him sitting on your kitchen counter for the first time, cleaning blood from his face. He hadn't known your touch could be so tender, until then. 
Now, of course, it's second nature to you both, the way you smooth a hand across the nape of his neck as he lifts you to sit on the bathroom counter. Now, there is nothing but softness between the two of you, a gentleness found only in the privacy of your own home. You watch, through tired, hooded eyes, the way his wings twitch and flutter, spreading slightly to take up more space, to block your view from the mirror if you were to try to turn. He always does that now - you pretend not to notice and he pretends not to know. 
You remember the first time you'd come home like this, when your relationship was still new - tentative and stumbling. He'd never seen it before - the tug of war that takes place in the doorway of your home, the attempt to put the fight aside for the night and learn to be human again. Oh, how bad you'd been at it then, pulling your hands away from his and spluttering concerns about getting blood on him, about leaving your marks on him.
"I'm already all marked up," he'd cooed, taking your hands and pressing them to his chest, letting you feel him, solid and warm and yours. "I've already got my own stains. There is no mark you could leave on me that I wouldn't thank you for." You'd laughed when he said that, a pitchy, tired noise. 
"You and I really are the same, aren't we?" You'd said. Keigo had found himself agreeing.
But when he'd taken you to the bathroom to clean up, the same way he does now, you'd caught sight of yourself in the mirror. The blood that dripped from your face and the wild look in your eyes were so familiar to you, but when they knocked against Keigo's tender grip on your waist and fluttering kiss to our cheek, the softness of it all made your breath stutter, panic rising in you. There is anguish in love when it is something so foreign, you'd thought. You couldn't articulate that, of course, as you buried your head in your hands and sobbed. But Keigo knew - he knew from when you'd helped him that first time, in your kitchen. He knew from excusing himself to the bathroom after, just so that he could clamp his hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs. You'd been right, of course - the two of you really are the same.
"Where'd you go, baby," your voice snaps Keigo back to the present, your finger flicking against his forehead gently. He grins at you, cocking his head to the side as he stares.
"Just thinking about you," he says, and you roll your eyes. "You want a shower?"
"Yes please," is your answer, but he stops you from moving, murmuring a stay put against your lips before giving you a quick kiss and stepping away to get the shower running. You slide over on the counter, smiling at the glare he shoots you as you move to lean sideways, turning the tap on and beginning to scrub your hands in the sink.
"We're about to get in the shower, dove," Keigo points out as he reaches a hand under the spray, frowning and adjusting the temperature.
"I just want my hands to be clean," you say earnestly, and he finds he can't fault you for that. He stares at his own, for a moment, before moving to the other sink, scrubbing at his palms with soap and water as steam begins to fill the room.
"You take your showers too hot," you point out.
"You take them too cold," he retorts.
"Maybe we should stop showering together," you pout teasingly, drying your hands on the towel Keigo's tossed you while he shoots you a look.
"As if. Get in, dove, before I make it hotter." You roll your eyes at his words, but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless, letting Keigo peel off the layers of your uniform as you do the same for him. 
"Thank you, Keigo," you say quietly, slipping into the shower and turning to see him follow after you. As if he wouldn't, if you weren't checking. As if he could do anything other than chase after you.
"You don't have to thank me for this," he says easily, using a hand against your cheek to bring you forward, resting his forehead against yours. "You don't have to thank me for loving you."
"But still," you press. "It's nice, isn't it?"
"Of course it is. But it's also deserved," he points out. You smile. 
"For you, too, then," you say. "You deserve this softness, too."
"Well," Keigo drawls, but you don't miss the way he wraps his arms around you to tuck you into his chest so that you can't see the blush creeping over his cheeks. "Good thing I have you to give me that, then, hm?"
"Yea," you laugh, burying your head in his chest and watching the way the water runs red, stains of blood blurring off your skin and disappearing. "Good thing."
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julesnichols · 9 months
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It's so funny to me that my dad thinks that I'm this super spiteful, petty, vindictive person and yet when the perfect opportunity comes up to give him a taste of what I've had to go through because of him I choose not to
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hoodedmenace · 7 months
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🔪
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datastate · 1 year
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i’ve finished sirius’ conclusion (aka i’m up to date on all of witch’s heart now)
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gregoftom · 1 year
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TOMMMMMMMMTOMAFOMAFO TOM SWEEEEEEP TOM SWEEP!!!!! TOM SWEEP GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOLAZOOOOOOO GOL GOL GOL
#txt#sorry. i'm fine i just fucking GOD TOM THATS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUUUUT!#i fully expected him to apologise back but he DIDNT because he ISNT GONNA LIE ANY MORE#HE STOOD UP FOR HIMSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!#GOD. THANK GOD!!!!!#GOOD FOR HIM!!!!!!!#i know they BEATING HIS ASS in the twitter and dark part of tungle w stans but i dont care GOOD FOR FUCKIGN HIM#is he lying when he said is that a new tactic bc she fully brought it up IN AN ARGUMENT like she told him BC SHE WANTED TO LAY SOME#EMOTIONAL WARFARE ON HIM WHILE HE WAS BEING BATTERED BY ALL THREE SIBLINGS AT ONCE AND STRESSED TO SHIT#and can you blame him for not bowing down to her apology WHEN ITS OBVIOUS SHE FULLY SAID IT EXPECTING HIM TO DO THE SAME#she only said it bc she wanted him to take back everything he said. but he was NOT going to do that#he's not doing it any more.#and when she didn't get what she wanted she dropped the bomb on him she used it as a way to get him to break down and apologise#it was actually. another tactic because the first one didn't work. and yeah she IS pregnant but it was still a tactic.#also she was getting VERY annoyed with tom begging greg to help him. she could fully see tom was leaning heavily on greg for support.#she does NOT like that!!!! at all!! she knows! come on! she fucking knows! we all know! what else am i supposed to take from that!#she chooses THEN to do all this to tom? like right after he's outwardly calling for greg to help him and greg is Trying to. they're a team#right in front of her?#hm. hmmmmm. things that make you go HM.
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kittlyns · 1 year
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One day I am gonna start journaling again and then I won't post all this sad shit on here but until then! *posts another sad post*
#it's dark and I'm tired so this means NOTHING. but.#there's no heartbreak like raising your younger siblings and them growing up to side against you#I lost my childhood to playing parent and trying to distance my siblings from the fighting and verbal abuse I witnessed and endured#I learned to read the room early on so I could get them out of situations before they turned bad#I knew I had to be perfect so I could take the fall for shit I'd never do and get a lighter punishment than the 'problem children'#I understand the younger kids. I was older so I could shield them better until they were old enough for our parents to mellow out a bit#of course they would choose the parents who don't care enough to parent them over the bitch who had multiple public breakdowns over them#but my brother. I don't understand that. it was our war. we had to figure it out together#of course he didn't though. he'd hit every landmine and it was up to me to pick up the pieces and salvage what I could.#instead of there being a solidarity between us as survivors of a pitiful childhood he's taken to blaming me for it all#I'm the reason he's depressed. suicidal. can't get a job. can't drive. never leaves the house. it's all because of me.#he'll joke around and egg on the man who used to corner and scream and threaten and insult him.#he'll wax poetic about how he has our bio father's blood. how he shares so many traits with a man who never wanted him. will never care.#I won't say I was perfect or that I did right by him in every way. I was a child trying to survive and I lashed out plenty of times.#I never understood why he couldn't just shut up. couldn't just let words be said and meekly take them. always had to get the last word in.#couldn't just curse the man in his heart with his head bowed and a 'yes sir. sorry sir.'#I blamed him for that at the time. I was wrong for that.#so yeah. I can accept my part of making things worse for him. I should've tried harder to understand him.#what I can't accept is that the blame falls solely on me. not our bio father who beat our mom and abandoned us.#not our stepfather who made every day a walk on eggshells. not our complacent mother. not the external family who only ever made it worse.#just me. I'm the only thing that ruined his life.#and sure. he can believe whatever he wants. if that's how he feels then so be it.#but he has to tell everyone. yeah my sister ruined my life. yeah she's the reason I want to kill myself.#over and over and over. all the family believes him.#my mom tells me to be nicer to him. my grandma asks me what I've done to hurt him so badly. he tells our siblings I'm a bitch and a liar.#I haven't even spoken to him in years. but every time he has a mental health crisis it's my fault.#in what way? who fucking knows. he talks in circles and the only thing he says for certain is it's my fault. and that's all my family needs#it truly got to the point I had to stop speaking to him cuz no matter what I said he decided it was an attack on him.#so. I've dealt w a lot. sacrificed an entire life stage. got nothing to show for it#except mental illness and a creeping sense that it was all for nothing
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qqueenofhades · 3 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/743255237060689920/the-thing-that-confuses-me-about-the-dont-vote
The “don’t vote” left’s point is basically that, if Biden gets a second term, it’ll basically signal that “They’ll vote for us as long as we’re not Republicans, why don’t we do some REAL fucked up shit, if we can get away with it?” It takes the power out of the people’s hands and places it firmly in the party’s.
I can’t completely disagree with that, my caveat is that there’s no real alternative system or party in place, because top-down change is ineffective; a third party president has to contend with a two party congress.
Except no. This whole "Biden just wants to do as much fucked up shit as possible while not being a Republican, and if you give him a second term he'll do more fucked up shit deliberately to spite you" mindset is only possible as an interpretation if you a) deliberately and comprehensively ignore everything he has done to date, and b) you approach the situation with the maximum bad faith possible. Not to mention, the ultimate outcome of this Big Important Teaching Biden A Lesson is that Trump gets back into power and makes everything orders of magnitude worse, because he does in fact want to deliberately do evil shit to everyone and says so at every opportunity. There is not some magical happy alternative that springs into existence by not voting. If you choose this as a year to Teach Biden A Lesson, you are enabling Trump. Trump will be much, much worse. If you don't care about that, I still do not care what your Great Ideology is. You are not helping anyone and you are directly and irreversibly hurting everyone.
I made a post a few days ago wherein I mentioned that I want to assess Biden fairly, taking into account both strengths and weaknesses, but the rampant bad-faith, lying, misreading, misrepresentation, and open sabotage of him (especially by the online left; the GOP sometimes only wishes they were as good at turning Biden's voter pool against him) makes it really difficult to do that. My frustration with those people makes me just want to go "BIDEN IS GREAT THE END." I know he is a flawed old man (though by literally every account of a career spent in public service, he really does care about making the world a better place and any remotely good faith reading of his accomplishments thus far can see that). It is also very likely that he goes MORE left in a second term because he won't have to face the electorate again, he has always gone more left when pushed before, and he's not actually the scheming genocidal mastermind that leftist social media paints him as. Shocking, I know.
I know there are things in the world we don't like and don't want and want to stop, and therefore we blame our own president for not making it stop. But I have zero, no, none, absolutely none whatsoever sympathy for this pseudo-populist "WE NEED TO TEACH BIDEN A LESSON BY ELECTING TRUMP AGAIN, I AM VERY MORAL MUCH ACTIVIST" mindset. There's this funny thing about America wherein it is still (for now) a democracy. If Biden wins a second term, he can't run again. I would take literally anything these people said more seriously if they focused on developing their dream progressive successor for 2028 (and also figured out how to get that person elected and in a place to make real change) rather than cynically sabotaging Biden in the most consequential election year, again, of our lifetimes. If you don't like him now, find a way to make his successor a better option. Throwing a toddler tantrum and handing the country back to a senile, deranged, fascist, revenge-riddled, theocratic Trump HELPS. NOBODY. I still don't know how many times I'm going to have to say that, but yeah.
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fmhobeus · 2 months
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jjk men and their red flags
a/n: i'm feeling problematic :> tell me what u think (agree/disagree/add more?) this is all for shits n giggles !! non sorcerer au kinda
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kento nanami — (over)protective
but like... to the point where it feels like he's treating you like a child! he doesnt like to see you sweat or even work at all for that matter. he loves it when you cook but has bought covers for all the knifes. if he sees a burn on your hand get ready for a 10 minute long lecture. if you accidentally fall he wont let you get up for atleast 3 days to help you ""heal."" it's almost like he doesnt trust you to take care of yourself :') he probably has like 3 separate first-aid kits everywhere.
suguru geto — emotionally unavailable
i feel like this is explainable to his character (sort of.) i dont think that he'd make you feel isolated at all, he's be an amazing listener and probably memorizes every word you say. he listens to you rant and even trauma dump with insane patience. but at some point it feels as though you hardly know him. he's talk to you a lot but very little of it is personal and you hardly know what he's thinking because his ass is not tell you. he also unintentionally distances himself from people from time to time. this applies to you too and you can feel him getting emotionally distant sometimes. it isnt something he does knowingly but it sure ass hell bothers you.
satoru gojo — very clingy and needy
this nigga. he is so utterly clingy. and at first it's perfectly fine, even appreciated by you. you still love him like crazy of course but it is just overwhelming. he is like a child most of the time, he need you around him and is always accompanying you wherever you go, and he expects you to do the same. he also doesn't believe in "me time" because why would you feel better when you're away from him: (? want to hang out with your friends? what do you need them for: (? he's right there. he is also physically incapable of listening but boy is he good at making up.
toji fushiguro — controlling
he is so controlling omfg. it's usually subtle but sometimes he will outright just say no to things he doesnt like, not caring if you like them. it gets to the point where he actually starts to change your personality. he is very caring and that's his justification for this typa stuff. it is usually harmless stuff but he gets paranoid often. he doesnt let you wear miniskirts out if you're not with him. he doesn't let you befriend people he thinks are into you. he barely lets you buy stuff on your own, he usually gifts you whatever it is youre into at that moment. borderline turned on by fear and you being dependent on him.
choso kamo — has no social life outside you
pretty self explanatory. he doesnt have many friends outside you and isn't interesting in making them either. total loser. so taking him out to events, he probably doesnt interact much and chooses to look at you the entire time, which annoys your friends. he answers their questions pretty bluntly. he's never down to have people over and lowkey hates when you are.
hiromi higuruma — workaholic
also self explanatory. he leaves early, comes home late. you barely see him on the weekdays. sometimes he goes as far as ignoring your calls when in between cases. he calls you periodically but has to have an alarm set to remind him. he loves you very very deeply but is just used to working non stop T_T
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verstarppen · 5 months
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hear me out….. okay reader is famous and meeting fans,, a fan is wearing a top with like charles or max or whoever’s face on it and reader spots it and is like “…who is that😮‍💨” and the fans tell her and shes like “please show me their instagram” and then she follows whoever the guy you choose on ig,,, but one of the fans was recording the whole interaction qnd the video goes viral as well as a screenshot of readers ig following their account <3333 you can ignore i just thought this would be a good giggle type fic and your fics are my fav for giggling <33333
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summary; your comic book signing takes a turn when a fan walks in wearing a t-shirt with a poorly photoshopped "charles lechair" or wheover that is
pairing; charles leclerc x fem! comic book artist! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; this is for my charlie girlies i see your comments ladies and they make me smile im lurking and im stalking when you least expect it; all art used in this is by my lord and saviour dan mora if i could eat his artsyle i would
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liked by charles_leclerc and 430,010 others
ynlantern thank you everyone who stopped by for a print or a sticker @ comic_con ! and if you haven't, i'm here for the next 2 days
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orangleclerc HE'S IN THE LIKES Y'ALL
kirbyvettel can someone pls explain what's going on orangleclerc I'll DM you the video baconforza HEY I WANT TO KNOW TOO lionkingseb ffs please someone explain
egggrosjean I've never cared about anything superhero related but this whole situation made me look into your work, and I have to say it's amazing!!! Keep up the good work
roboclaren HE FOLLOWED HER BACK LMAO
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, ynlantern and 5,331,254 others
pierregasly He's great with kids and dogs
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monte_carlos_55 STOP EMBARASSING HIM
verstoppen "My crush is coming act cool" My friends:
charles_leclerc What did I say
pierregasly I'm doing free promotion charles_leclerc You're talking a lot of shit for someone within bitch slap distance pierregasly Delete this, you're ruining my marketing strategy
scuderiaferrari It's true! He's actually a driver, strategist and team principal!
ynlantern isn't half of that your job? scuderiaferrari @ charles_leclerc Nevermind, we don't like her. charles_leclerc 😐
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,200,100 others
ynlantern i heard he solved world hunger or something
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vertiddieenjoyer WAR IS OVER
ceruleanwilliams historians in 2294 trying to figure out what charles leclerc actually did and what the internet said he did to get him a date: 😰
pierregasly No need to thank me
honeyvettel the real main character
arthur_leclerc You did it. You crazy son of a bitch you did it.
charles_leclerc No swearing under her posts, please arthur_leclerc Yes, mom.
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liked by ynlantern, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 2,474,551 others
charles_leclerc Round 2 :)
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scuderiaferrari That was fast
carlossainz55 Unlike our pitstops scuderiaferrari You're getting distracted charles_leclerc Wish I could get distracted out of SF-23
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
blog taglist: @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 @allygatcr  (it's been a week and im already crying screaming throwing up without f1 help me)
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satoruxx · 6 months
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pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: bestfriend!satoru has returned, fluff, pining, slightly angsty bc of pining, simp satoru hehe, oblivious reader is back again, satoru loves you !! rheya's note: continuation to this drabble bc bestfriend!satoru is everything to me !!
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bestfriend!satoru who insists that you have him on speed dial because "he's the most important person in your life" but really it just satisfies him to know that he's the first one you'd call if you needed anything.
bestfriend!satoru who started off being a bit of an ass when you first met. not because he was trying to be but because he's got an ego and doesn't know how to control it, until you call him out for his shit and it sends his heartbeat all out of wack.
bestfriend!satoru who doesn't trust anyone else around you. it's not out of concern or anything, oh no. but in his expert opinion only him and the people he trusts (like suguru, shoko, or nanami) should ever get within six feet of you.
bestfriend!satoru who waits outside every class for you, leaning against the wall with a bag of your favorite snacks in his hand, glasses perched low on his nose. the smile that crawls onto his face as you walk out of the classroom and join him is practically blinding.
bestfriend!satoru who grows older thinking of nothing but you. the person most important to him, the person he would move galaxies for. and no, it's not romantic or anything. he's just your best friend.
bestfriend!satoru who realizes that he's not the only one in the world who knows that you're attractive, and has to clench his fists with a scowl as he sees other men noticing you. then he has to stop and check himself because, why on earth is he mad about it?
bestfriend!satoru who starts openly staring at you because he can't even control it anymore, eyes soft and overflowing affection as he watches you indulge in silly mundane tasks. and when you turn and catch him looking all he can do is give you a dreamy little smile. he's got no excuses but he's gonna play it off like it's something you shouldn't worry about anyway.
bestfriend!satoru who makes you his number one priority, who doesn't care about anyone else when you're in front of him. and even if you aren't around, he can't bring himself to look at anyone else. if someone comes up to him on the street, mumbling something about how he's their type and they'd like his contact info, all he does is give them a breezy wave, saying "sorry. i got someone waiting for me."
bestfriend!satoru who, when you're trying to explain something and someone speaks over you, gives you a resolute "no i'm listening." and doesn't take his eyes away from you until you've said all that you needed to. don't ever think that nobody is listening to you because you always have his attention.
bestfriend!satoru who grits his teeth as you tell him about another unsuccessful date with a man who didn't even know how to treat you right. and how could they, when they don't even know how you like your coffee or what side of the bed you prefer to sleep on? they don't know what your favorite movie snack is or about your obsession with plants or your most precious pair of fluffy socks. not the way he does.
bestfriend!satoru who has to hold himself back during your ranting, who has to keep himself from just letting go and spilling that you weren't going to find someone who loved you more than he did. to stop himself from leaning down and kissing you so hard it takes your breath away, because he's wanted to do it since he was sixteen. he was just too stupid to understand it back then.
bestfriend!satoru who chooses to wait instead, knowing that he'll be stuck with these feelings for the rest of his life, so he'd rather wait for you. because he'd hate himself if he made you uncomfortable, and if he lost the relationship he had with you now over his silly little heart. no instead, he'll keep proving himself, staying by your side and showing you even just of fraction of the devotion he knows he has for you, if it means that you'll be by his side. and hoping that one day, maybe, you'd tell him you feel the same.
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ddejavvu · 9 months
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: your BeReal for the day is, perhaps, a little too real
contents/warnings: smut (18+, minors dni)
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There's no mistaking the notification that chimes on your nightstand. It's BeReal, the unique sound lets you know, and you're not in the best position right now to answer it.
You're in the best position, period. You're sprawled out against Aaron's silky bedsheets, the fabric soothing and cool against your flushed skin. You're sweaty, hot, and bothered, your cunt begging for more as Aaron drives his cock repeatedly through your sopping folds.
"Fuck," You hiss, partially at the feeling of Aaron's teeth scraping at your collarbone, and partially because you panic at the sound, "Aaron, my- gimme my phone."
"Don't you think this is a little more important?" He grunts, nearly knocking his skull into your jaw as he lunges for a kiss. He takes you by surprise, and you're nearly pulled away from your urgency to post when his tongue practically slips down your throat.
You nearly gag on it, and your nails take a break from scratching up his back to weave through the short strands of hair at the back of his neck. It's not long enough to tug, but he huffs at the feeling of your nails scraping across his scalp, and rocks his hips into yours slightly faster.
"Oh, fuck, Aaron," You pant when he finally lets you breathe, burying his head in your shoulder to bite at the skin there instead, "Aaron this is so hot, I wanna- please, I wanna post it."
"No face," He instructs, and you're more than happy to choose a different area of his body to focus on, "Don't need Garcia figuring us out."
The moans that escape your mouth, albeit muffled by Aaron's own, are so pornographic that you're paranoid they'll somehow be captured in the photo you snap. When you finally get your hands on your phone you aim it at Aaron's back, as well as the red stripes left by your newly manicured nails, and snap a photo. Then, with the front camera, your jaw that's been sucked sore by Aaron, and in the corner of the shot, his short black hair and strong jawline nestled against your skin. You keep it just as he's instructed, vague enough of a profile so that your coworkers shouldn't be able to figure out that it's him, and his post without a second thought. You feel the buzzings of replies soon after, but you're no longer capable of caring about them while they vibrate against your nightstand, much happier to focus on Aaron's relentless jackhammering into your pulsating cunt.
--
Gathering in the conference room the next day means that you get a lot of shit-eating grins. You'd expected it, what with the soft porn you'd posted, and you're surprised when even Rossi offers you his congratulations.
"Nice going, kiddo," He knocks elbows with you, and you laugh sheepishly.
"You saw?"
"Morgan filled me in," He nods, "Garcia was the first one to know, of course, but it spread very quickly."
You don't have it in you to be embarrassed in front of your team too badly. You're all adults, and they're more proud of you than anything, even if Reid's smile is extra awkward today.
"Just be glad Hotch doesn't have the app," Emily laughs, and for a moment you forget that they don't know you're together. But you play it off with a wry smile towards her as your Unit Chief walks through the door, and you're happy to let your attention drift to him as he speaks.
His tone is authoritative, like always, and you fight to stop something from stirring between your legs. You tune into what he's saying instead, something about a double homicide in Kansas, and that helps dissuade any distracting thoughts you might have had.
"-and those pictures are... not on the monitor." Aaron narrows his eyes at the black screen, and Garcia nearly breaks the remote trying to get it to respond.
"Sir, I'm trying! I'm sorry," She frets, mashing all of the buttons at once in her panic, "It's not working, I- I think the batteries might be dead?"
"I changed them two weeks ago," Hotch shakes his head while taking the remote from her, stepping up towards the monitor to fiddle with the buttons beneath it, "It's alright, Garcia, it's not your fault."
He cranes his head down to peer at remote in his hand, intent on making sure no acid has leaked from the batteries, but when he does so, the back of his neck is no longer covered by his shirt collar, and it's bright red.
There's clear marks from your nails, red streaks that haven't faded in the mere hours they've been left alone and probably won't for another day. It barely takes any time for a room of profilers to connect two and two, and Penelope's position as technical analyst doesn't hinder her realization.
Your hand shoots over your mouth as the rest of your team exchanges incredulous gasps and jeers, all looking rapidly between you and Hotch. He turns to raise an eyebrow at them all and his eyes land on your bashful grin.
"Remind me to rub some aloe on the back of your neck when we get home," You mumble sheepishly, and there's only more scandalized comments made about how you two go home together.
Aaron's jaw clenches and he sighs defeatedly at the realization that you've both been caught, a hand flying up to cup the back of his neck.
Everyone waits with bated breath to hear what he has to say for himself but he can't manage to muster up anything to save the awkward situation.
"We'll look at the details on the jet," He grumbles, setting the faulty remote on the counter and snatching his bag off of the ground beside his chair, "Wheels up in thirty, and we never speak of this again."
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2hightocare · 3 months
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INFATUATED!
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“In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.” — mini series ❦︎
Synopsis: The feeling of finding a person who makes your tummy do cartwheels everyday, no matter what the situation is.
Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader
Warnings: super cute duper fluff, jk being the epitome of every girls dream man. Argument, oc crying, Jungkook wasting money on oc, banter, cussing, flirting. Js super cute cliché shit…
a/n: they’re my babies… they’re so ‘tear in my heart’ coded but after this I might be inactive. I have a paper due in three weeks 10 pages long so…. Plus in my free time I’m working on a series that I will drop the teaser and aesthetic maybe later or tmr🤍🤍🤍 enjoy!! Kithes.
Falling in love with Jungkook was so easy that it scared you. He did everything right, and whenever there was something wrong, he would do anything in his power to make it right. You thought it was too good to be true, and he would just disappear into angel dust if you blinked too fast.
“How do you feel?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead in the process. “Warm.” You talk about the fever you have. The covers that were wrapped tightly around you are shredded from you. “Hey!” You pout, shaking from how cold you feel even though the air is off and it’s not cold. “You’re not going to get better, baby.” He pouts back at you, holding the covers tightly on his chest as you try to fight back for it.
“I'm freezing,” you whine, your eyelids fluttering shut as his palm touches your face.
“You’re burning, baby,” he lets you know while sighing.
You had gotten sick yesterday, which had started with a sore throat. You had thought when you would have woken up today it would’ve been gone; spoiler: it got worse.
Jungkook makes his way to his kitchen, opening up the gray cabinet in front of him. He pulls out the tray filled with medicine his mom gave him whenever he moved out around four years ago. He pops open the pill container, taking two small white round pills out before grabbing a water bottle and making his way to you, who’s curled up on his couch.
Jungkook feels like shit whenever he can’t do anything to make you feel better. It didn’t matter what it was; he would do anything in his power to make you feel better. Seeing you sick, your face red from how hot you are, your eyes closed, and curled up from how cold you felt had him thinking that if he could take away your sickness and be sick instead, Jungkook would choose that option in an instant.
He hands you the pills and the water bottle and watches you take them one by one. He remembers when you gawked at him when he took 4 pills at once and learned that you have a fear of the pill going down the wrong tube.
He also remembers that you prefer pills and injections instead of just medicine syrup. Which baffled him, to say the least; how could someone prefer an injection instead of just strawberry-flavored syrup? He laughed at you, which you just shrugged because it was the truth; you preferred to get poked by a needle than just drinking something.
“That’s actually crazy.” Jungkook throws his head backwards as a laugh rips out of his chest. “It’s nasty. I don’t care what flavor it is. I would literally throw it up.” You scrunch your nose, remembering the taste of the medicines your parents literally shoved down your throat so you could get better.
“Don’t get me started on how anything medicine strawberry flavored gives me PTSD till this day.” You shiver from the thought, which has your boyfriend laughing at you.
“I can’t breathe,” you say, your voice scratchy from your sore throat as you breathe from your mouth. “I should’ve enjoyed breathing when I could,” you joke, watching your boyfriend's eyes twinkle. They had a small glimmer to them, making you wonder how that could possibly happen and why you haven't seen it before with anyone else.
Jungkook had no clue how he ended up here… with a girl he met in a chemistry class that accidentally dropped sulfuric acid all over the floor alongside the beaker smashing into tiny pieces. He watched how your eyes widened as a small piece of your hair dropped beautifully in front of your face out of the low ponytail. You had tied it with a blue latex glove as a hair tie since you didn’t have one after no one in class had one to let you borrow.
That was two years ago; now here he was taking care of you as you struggled to breathe from your congested nose.
“Can I get my blanket back?” You pout at him, which he only shook his head with a chuckle.
….
“Get whatever you want,” Jungkook gave your ass a little tap as you entered the makeup store, your eyes widening from excitement. “Don’t say stuff like that,” you give him a look, which has him tilting your face up with his hand.
“Why, baby?” He chuckles, pecking your pouted lips.
“Because it makes me feel things, duh,” you whisper into his lips. He smiles into your mouth. His lip piercing sends cold shocks through your body that has you playfully shoving him away, remembering where you guys are.
“Get whatever you want, and then we can go to the bookstore,” Jungkook picks up the black and white striped little Sephora bag before pointing in front of you to walk.
You giggled as you started looking for the things that have been sitting in your phone cart for a while now. Jungkook follows behind you, stopping whenever you stop to look at the shelves for something before you drop the product in the basket in your boyfriend's hand.
“That’s really cute,” Jungkook mentions the lipstick tester you have in your hand. “You should get it,” he says, tilting his head at you, watching you open the lid being met with a reddish-dark color.
“Don’t you think it’s too dark?” You look up at your smiling boyfriend.
“What?” You giggle as you stare back at him. “You look beautiful,” he says casually, reaching for your beanie and pulling it down a bit more, fixing it. “You literally want me to die right now,” you joke. “Baby!” Jungkook laughs at the tone of voice you used.
“You can’t keep saying things like that without expecting me to literally melt away,” you lean your body onto him while he wraps his strong hands around your much smaller frame as you look up to him.
“I just say whatever is in my mind at the moment, princess,” he explains, giving your waist a small squeeze, making you squirm as the feeling made you ticklish. “Ah!” You laugh as his fingers dig into your rib cage, tickling you.
You push him away as he tries to continue to tickle your tummy. “Stop!” You laugh, trying to get away as far as you can from him.
Jungkook stops when he sees two girls around your guy's age pass beside you both with judging eyes. “Someone’s mad...” Jungkook whispers into your head as you just shake your head with a laugh.
“Let’s leave, I got everything,” you giggle, intertwining your fingers with him, making your way to the line.
When you guys finally get to the line, you are met with a pretty blonde girl, her dimples carved into her skin when she smiles up at you both. “Hi, is that all?” The girl said, you take notice of her name tag.
“Yes, that's all, thank you,” you smile back. “Find everything you wanted?” Genesis asks, as she starts scanning the products. “Yeah, thanks,” you say, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you see the price rise with each scan.
“Card or cash?” Genesis says, as she points to the credit card reader.
“Card,” Jungkook says before you could reply. He pulls out his black card from the back of the phone case, before scanning it through the white card reader without looking at the price. The machine makes a small sound, “here you go, have a wonderful day!” The girl says ripping the receipt before putting it into the white and black bag, handing it to you.
“Thank you, baby,” you say as you walk out the door of the store, Jungkook smiles at you before shrugging. “The least I could do, princess,” he gives your hand three small squeezes, which feels like he’s squeezing your heart as well. “It was expensive as fuck,” you pout at him. “How much?” He asks, “a thousand.” You cringe, scrunching your nose up at realizing the astonishing price. “That’s it?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow before reaching to the passenger side of his car.
“What! You’re crazy,” you say, giving him a slight swat. You watch as the side of his lips quirk up, making you mirror his actions.
“I love you,” you pout, as he leans into his car. “And I love you so much more,” he says, pulling you into him from your waist.
You tipped toe to reach for his lips, his lips mold with yours perfectly as you both were pieces of a puzzle. “How do you want the kiss?” He asks, giving your waist a squeeze. “What is this, a drive-thru? I get to ask what type of kiss I want,” you giggle, letting your forehead drop onto his chest which rumbles with a laugh.
“You get to ask whatever you want from me,” Jungkook rubs your back softly on top of your thick hoodie. “Oh shit,” your eyes widened as you saw the small print of your makeup on his black shirt when you raised your head upwards. “What?” He looks down to his shirt where you’re rubbing your fingers on the dirty print.
“I just ruined your shirt, baby, ahh!” You freak, which has Jungkook laughing while trying to reassure you that it’s fine and he’ll just wash it when he gets home.
As much as you guys had moments like this, you guys had your disagreements. They weren’t as bad where they ended in screaming matches or end up not talking for days, you guys usually make up the same day before going to bed. Jungkook loathed going to bed whenever you two fought; he felt compelled to make things right before even considering sleep.
“Why are you making me feel bad?” You say, your voice cracking, which echoes the fractures in Jungkook's heart. “I’m not, baby. It’s just... I can’t do anything about it,” Jungkook tries to reason with you.
“She was literally all over you, and you didn’t stop it,” you feel your eyes start to water before staring down at your converse.
“She’s my mom's best friend's daughter; I can’t just tell her to fuck off, y/n. I backed off. I can’t control what she does,” Jungkook raises his voice, a tear falling down your cheek as he addresses you by your first name, a departure from his usual endearments, which feels like a knife to your chest.
“Okay, then,” you nod, tears starting to cascade down, smudging your makeup in the process.
Jungkook's throat tightens; he feels like he can't breathe, feeling like shit. He watches you wipe your tears, small sniffles escaping your mouth. “I’m going to go,” you sniffle, turning your back to him and reaching for your bag.
“No, don't leave, let’s talk this out,” Jungkook implores, turning you around to face him. He reaches for your cheeks, wiping away the tears that continue to fall down your puffy cheeks. “You’re hurting me,” you say, with a sniffle.
“I know. I’m fucking sorry, baby,” he feels his heart racing, wanting to die for making you feel bad for caring about him.
“Why didn’t you push her away or say something? You made me look fucking stupid, Jungkook,” you cry, recalling the pang of feeling as Kailey flirted with him in front of his family, and he did nothing to stop it, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he kisses away your tears, trying to soothe the ache in your heart. “I promise I’ll shove her off whenever I see her, and if I have the chance to avoid her, I will,” he whispers into your cheek with each kiss he leaves on your face.
“Promise?” You whisper, finally meeting his worried eyes.
“Promise, baby,” he whispers back, holding eye contact with your red, puffy eyes.
“I hate making you cry; please forgive me,” Jungkook pulls you into him, hugging you tightly as if afraid you'll slip away. “I forgive you, just don’t do it ever again,” you sniffle into his chest, feeling the throb in your heart melt away.
“I love you,” he says, swaying you both in the middle of his living room.
“I love you,” you sniffle.
….
"But the Maze Runner is so good," you literally whine at your boyfriend, who is in the middle of changing his shirt.
"Yeah, but not as good as Spiderman," he says, poking his head out the shirt hole with a grin.
"Okay, true, but the Maze Runner is just as good; you need to read the book to understand," you mumble, trying to separate a piece of hair from your mouth as you curl another strand with your wand.
"You just have a huge crush on Dylan O’Brian, let’s be honest," your boyfriend chuckles, sending you a look through the mirror, to which you just roll your eyes back at him, acknowledging a) that he was right. b) he was literally right.
“Says the boy who had a crush on Fluttershy when we watched My Little Pony,” you say, giving him a 'don’t try me' look. His jaw falls before giving your hair a tiny soft pull.
"You said you wouldn’t bring it up," he laughs before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Well..." you just shrug.
“Fluttershy reminds me of you,” Jungkook stands behind you, his fingers playing with your freshly curled hair. “Until you act like a brat,” he tugs on your hair, making your head snap backwards, where he leaves a big fat smooch on your lips.
“Okay, princess, let’s go,” he says before unplugging the curling wand wire, grabbing your bag and coat, before holding your hand and leading you outside.
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slttygeto · 9 months
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THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY.
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⤷ what was I made for? | something i’m made for
જ⁀➴ synopsis: after hanging out with Suguru's friends, you head home and can't wait to bury it down like you always do. But when your boyfriend insists on knowing what upset you, the night takes a turn for the worst.
જ⁀➴ word count: 2,8k
જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, hurt/no comofrt, angst, fights, suguru is a little mean and says mean shit but reader isn’t any better.
જ⁀➴ note: sorry for the long wait, i'm struggling to work on many things at once. but a huge thank you for showing the first part so much love! it was truly unexpected.
ʚ⁺˖ ⤷ tag list: @error404-tryagain @fiannee @anarosextodo @ayeputita (couldn't tag everyone for some reason, my bad!)
⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!
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Suguru remembers when he first fell in love with you, how his face felt warm when you wrapped your arms around him and told him to have a safe trip, the little bag of goodies you had prepared for him sitting atop of his suitcase. He remembers pulling you into a deep kiss in the middle of a crowded airport, and he wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, has never been—but something about you caring for him, preparing food for his flight and showing up as he was about to board made his heart leap out of his chest.
Your first I love you to each other was shared when you realized you couldn’t handle being away from each other for longer than a day. You move in together shortly after he returns from his travel.
You don’t remember when you started to feel out of place, but it makes its way up and towards the back of your head like a parasite—your emotions were always too much for anyone to handle. You recently had a breakdown over messing up at work, and you’ve never seen Suguru look more lost than when he tried to comfort you. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, he looks defeated when you refuse to let him touch or hug you. You were a mess, and he couldn’t do anything about it.
When you do calm down and are finally able to breathe properly, your brain flashes you little moments from your breakdown like a flashback—almost as though to shame and embarrass you for the way you behaved, all while your perfect boyfriend looks defeated at your lack of cooperation. You’re not sure if it is true, you hope that it’s not—but you see Suguru sit at the edge of the bed and bury his face in his hands and he curses under his breath. He looks tired.
It’s because of me.
When Suguru notices that your breakdowns become less frequent, he is convinced that you are slowly working towards getting better, praises and showers you with compliments. This is the Suguru you always want to see, full of life and love and not the one you saw that night.
And so you decide that from now on, Suguru wasn’t made to see you at your lowest.
--
Dinner ends an hour later and you almost run out of the restaurant and towards the car. Suguru is quick to join you, and from the corner of your eyes, you see Gojo standing near his car and his eyes are staring into your soul. You were grateful that he didn’t tell your boyfriend about the bathroom incident. You confided in the male at such a vulnerable moment and you would’ve been pretty upset if he went against your wishes.
You’re as quiet as ever as Suguru starts the car and drives away. You’re mindful of the way you sit not to face Suguru, and decide on letting him pick the songs to play on the way back. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re avoiding him like the plague, after all this wasn’t the first time you were eerily quiet on the way back home. But you were wrong.
Suguru watches you as you walk inside your shared apartment and remove your shoes. You’re not wearing any specific expression indicating that you might be upset. After all, you did have a habit of frowning as a resting face. But it feels different as you quietly greet your cat with a head pat, choosing to head to the kitchen first since you knew Suguru would go to the bathroom for a quick shower.
You were avoiding him.
“Did I do something?” Your boyfriend watches as you halt your movements, the glass of water in your hand long forgotten as you stare at him wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.
“Huh?”
“You’re avoiding me, did something happen?” Suguru tries to remember the night you spent outside. He has no clear memory of saying or doing something that you might’ve tipped you over the edge, so what was wrong? You were never this quiet.
“I’m fine, Sugu. You didn’t do anything.” The smile you flash him does anything but reassure him. You ignore the frown that sits on his face and you turn around, your back facing him as you try to busy yourself with something—anything, but facing the man you called your boyfriend.
“Then why are you acting so distant?” So he was able to pick up on it. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to, maybe breaking up with him would be much easier that way. You are quiet as ever as you turn around and walk toward the fridge.
You were distant because Suguru wasn’t supposed to see you like this, he wasn’t supposed to know how much of an insecure mess you were when he was around, how you were desperately trying to get him to fall out of love. You can barely say I love you to him without feeling guilty about it. Did you truly deserve his love? It felt like he was wasting his time on someone as miserable as you.
“I am not distant, just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were tired. You wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to drown the lingering thoughts of never feeling enough as Suguru’s girlfriend, but feeling whole and complete when you are yourself outside of your relationship. This was a you problem, and dragging Suguru down with you felt a little unfair.
“You were crying in the restaurant.” Your heart stills at this. “But you lied and said you were fine.”
“Did Satoru—“
“Satoru doesn’t know you better than I do.” His tone is sharp, and you’re taken aback by the harsh way he chooses to address you. Was this about to escalate into something else? You didn’t want it to, you didn’t have the energy to fight back and tell him to choose his tone carefully. You might’ve been the easy-going, kind girlfriend—but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect from his part.
“You’re right, he doesn’t.” You sound almost defeated, and you put your glass in the sink before wiping your hands on the towel. Suguru stands near the kitchen island, and watches you with cat-like eyes. You were barely looking his way, the dark circles under your eyes prominent despite your effort at covering them up with make-up. When did Suguru start paying less attention to you? Or did you simply never allow him to see you like this, vulnerable and exhausted. His heart aches in his chest.
“So you won’t tell me?” You’re about to walk away when he decides to speak, and you heave out a long sigh when you realize that the night was taking a turn for the worst.
“Tell you what?” You mumble under your breath, and you refuse to meet Suguru’s cold eyes. You can feel them on your skin, they’re intense and trying to read you like a book. Perhaps if you don’t look his way, his stare would feel less intimidating.
“Would you please just stop?” Suguru rests his elbows on his the surface of the kitchen island, burying his face in his hands. “I’m really trying to figure out what’s wrong, and you’re not helping.”
“Maybe because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.” Your response comes out almost immediately, and the frustration you’ve been suppressing all night suddenly resurfaces. Months of trying to play it cool, sweeping your insecurities under the rug and hoping that a kiss from Suguru would fix all of your problems, it was all piling up into this huge bubble. And the more persistent your boyfriend was, the harder it was to stay quiet.
“What do you mean you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” Suguru’s voice is a little bit louder, and he’s almost in disbelief at your words. You were dating, you slept on the same bed, ate on the same table and cuddled on the same couch. You weren’t a girl he started dating last month, or a person he was testing out the waters with—you weren’t even a potential lifetime partner, but he was almost certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
“Because it’s useless to whine to you about shit you don’t need to know. My problems are mine, you don’t have to fix me.” You feel yourself shake a little the more you speak, your heart is beating fast at the realization that this was a conflict—you were creating a conflict and it felt suffocating.
“Fix you—who said I have to fix you?”
“Right, no one did—Suguru, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But I do.” His tone is sharp, and his hands are curled up in fists. His eyes are staring you down the same way he looks at strangers—threatening, cold and mean. You find yourself tearing up and it makes you feel stupid. You started this, you’re the one who doesn’t feel enough in the relationship—you’re the one being mean, and yet a single look from Suguru has you almost bursting into tears? Pathetic. You felt pathetic and weak, and the longer your boyfriend stared at you, the harder it was to maintain a normal breathing pattern.
“Suguru, I don’t want to talk about it.” You try again, and you hope that your voice doesn’t betray and breaks. Tonight has been exhausting enough, and the thought of having to speak up what has been on your mind for months now makes your chest feel incredibly tight.
“You’re being selfish.”
Selfish? You were being selfish?
You stare at Suguru in disbelief and he immediately realizes how badly he must’ve fucked up because the tears start falling down your cheeks almost instantly. You, who has been pushing her feelings to the side for the sake of his happiness, were selfish? You, who can’t even remember the last time you were truly happy about something, were selfish? This is bullshit.
“I’m selfish?” Your chin quivers pathetically, and Suguru is quick to reach a hand towards you to hold you, but you flinch away from his hold, arms wrapped you to give yourself the comfort Suguru wanted to give you.
“I am selfish, me?!” Your voice is getting louder, but you didn’t care. All the frustration, all the sadness and insecurities were all coming up to the surface because of one single comment.
“Baby, I didn’t—“
“Don’t call me that, don’t you fucking dare touch me!” You move away when he attempts to hold you. “I’m selfish because I don’t wanna tell my perfect boyfriend with his perfect personality about my shitty problems. That’s just fucking great, isn’t it?”
The last time Suguru saw you like this was months ago and he doesn’t even realize it until now. All those times where you would brush off something that would normally set you off, give him a tight lipped smile and tell him not to worry.
“Your problems aren’t shitty, you don’t even want to talk about them!”
“Because every time I tried, it felt like I was robbing you of your fucking happiness, Suguru!” Your voice is loud. “Every time I realized that my mood was ruined, I could only think of how you must be fed up with me.”
“But I’m not? I never even said that I was fed up!” Suguru’s body language completely changes, and suddenly he’s not even trying to comfort you. More so understand where all of this was coming from.
“Your face says it all and fuck--” You groan into your face, your cheeks flushed from frustration.
“Oh so now it’s my face?” You raise your head to stare at him. “One moment you’re saying it’s how I behave, but now it’s all in my face?”
“You’re missing the whole point, Suguru—“
“No, I’m not missing anything! You are the one who created this situation, you’re the one who decided to pull away!” Each word feels like a knife being stabbed into your heart. You stare at the man who usually gives you warm, sweet smiles and all of that is replaced with a cold angry look.
“Suguru—“
“Selfish. Yeah, actually I don’t take it back. You are selfish,”
“Stop.” your lips quivers.
“Because if you actually wanted this to work out, you would tell me what’s wrong instead of finding excuses.”
“You’re being mean, Sugu.”  
Your boyfriend groans out of frustration and leans against the kitchen counter. You stand still next to the fridge, tears streaming down your face. You try to stop and wipe them away, but it feels as though you really needed this more than anything.
“I want to take a break.” You say quietly and Suguru’s head snaps up almost immediately.
“What?”
“I want to take a break from this—from you, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
Instead of giving you a proper reply, Suguru storms out of the kitchen and grabs his jacket and car keys and is out of the house in less than a minute. You are frozen in your spot as you let the words you just uttered out loud sink in, and there’s a sense of guilt. You are pulling away from your relationship, you’re willingly taking a break and not looking back, but does it matter anymore?
This was by far your biggest fight with your boyfriend, and the way he stormed out at the mention of taking a break makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. But not anymore.
You can’t even remember the last time you were happy, and for it to go on for so long was so draining and tiring. You could barely recognize yourself anymore. Your feet take you towards your shared bedroom with Suguru and you start packing some of your stuff. Whether he agrees to the break or not is not important, because you were doing this for yourself. And if Suguru truly cared about you, he would let you do what is best for you.
--
Suguru didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from you and as soon as possible. The roads are empty, and he isn’t driving recklessly. In fact, he’s probably driving so slowly that it would look suspicious to anyone on the outside.
He parks the car on the side of the road and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. When did it turn into this? When did he become so absorbed in his personal life that he stopped including you or care for you? Suguru doesn’t want to blame himself, but it’s a little difficult. He thought he was living this picture perfect life with you, under one roof with a single pet and future plans ahead of you. But to fuck up this badly and call you selfish simply because you were struggling on your own was horrible.
And to make things worse, he stormed out of the house and left you there all alone. He groans into his hands.
“Fuck.” He wants to fix this. He doesn’t want a break, he doesn’t think that it’s necessary. But you looked serious about it, maybe he could talk you out of it.
He grabs his phone and dials your number, and when it takes a while for you to pick up he just knows that you must’ve been contemplating whether or not you wanted to take the call. Eventually, you do answer.
“I’m sorry,” the line on your side is quiet, so he continues. “I fucked up, I don’t think I should’ve said what I said and—“
“It’s not your fault.” Your nose is stuffed, but Suguru can tell from the tone of your voice that you were tired. “But I need some space, Suguru.”
Some space… So you were considering the break.
“We can work it out, we don’t have to take a break or anything, we can go on a date tomorrow morning and—“
“I called a cab, I’m going back to my place.” You cut him off, and Suguru hears you lock the door to his apartment. “I’m doing this for myself and for us,” Suguru closes his eyes when he realizes that there was truly no hope in talking you out of it.
“Okay… can I still text you?”
“No,” you reply quietly. “I don’t wanna think about you for a while.” He tries not to feel hurt but it’s difficult.
“I understand.” The line goes quiet for a while, and Suguru hears a few sniffles from your side and sighs.
“We’ll be okay, yeah?”
“Yeah,” You wipe a few tears. “I have to go now.”
“I love you.” Suguru waits for a response, and when you take too long to answer, his chest tightens a little.
“Take care, Sugu.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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thef1diary · 2 months
Text
Little Big Fan | Nine
— Little Big Phone Calls
Series Masterlist
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wc: 1.7k
Ever since you had brought Isabella home from the hospital, quite a few things happened.
Twenty-four hours after she was discharged, Tyler finally had the nerve to give you a call. You debated whether or not you should pick up the call as you glared at the screen while it rang, but then you didn't want to stoop down to his level either.
"Is Isabella okay?" were his first words, and if it weren't then you definitely would've unleashed hell upon him. "Yeah she's okay, no thanks to you," you scoffed.
Then he proceeded to claim that you didn't have the right to take Isabella home from the hospital because she was supposed to stay with him for the weekend. You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you considered how to explain the issue to him in a calm manner.
"You weren't even there when it happened," you started, but then he had the audacity to interrupt you, "I was in a meeting."
"You're always in a fucking meeting! You left our daughter with Emma, it is not her responsibility to take care of our child." You lost your patience rather quickly, and you were glad that Isabella was currently at a classmate's birthday party so she didn't hear your argument. Leave it to her to quickly befriend others.
He was silent for a moment, "Emma is my girlfriend, and she doesn't have an issue with staying with Isabella so neither should you."
You paced around the room, having a strong urge to throw the phone against the wall. "Emma is not the problem, I'm grateful for her actually. The issue is that you need to get your shit together and choose if you want to be a father or a businessman, and quite frankly, you're doing a shit job at both right now."
You didn't wait for his response, hanging up and tossing your phone on your desk while burying your head in your palms.
Then, to make matters worse, you realized that Max's ten-day vacation was almost over, because he had to return to racing. You had quickly become accustomed to his presence and began missing him the moment he left your house a few days later.
You may or may not have hugged him for a few minutes too long on the day he was leaving, especially after knowing that he would be busy with back to back races for two weeks.
When you parted away, Max placed his palms on your cheeks and made direct eye contact with you. "When I'm back, me and you are going on that date," he stated in a tone of finality and you nodded, agreeing with him. "I'll be waiting."
Ruffling Isabella's hair until she smacked his hands away before smoothing it herself, Max had to remind her of school when she asked if he would take her to the races as well. He would have agreed if he had been a little more gullible.
"Gifts?" She settled for instead, earning a laugh from Max and widened eyes from you. "Isabella!" You exclaimed but couldn't hold back your smile at her request.
She shrugged, looking at Max, "if you want," she added. "Always," he responded, since he had already planned on buying a few gifts for both of you.
Then it was just you and Isabella, and even then you were alone when you returned home after dropping her off at school. You never had a problem with being alone at home until you experienced the joy of being with others.
Isabella was up bright and early on race day, considering that the race took place earlier in the morning in your time zone. However, you knew she would take a nap as soon as the podium celebrations were over, not wanting to stay up for the interviews. Which is exactly what she did after the last race you watched together, but her "tiredness" could've been due to the fact she was disappointed that Max had not won that race.
You remember the conversation you had with him after that race, and he was quite upset—rightfully so in your opinion as it wasn't a driver issue, but rather a technical problem.
"I don't think my lucky charm works from such a distance," he told you, making you furrow your brows, "what lucky charm?"
"You, of course. Please come to another race soon," he explained, earning a chuckle from you with a blush rising to your cheeks. "I'll think about it."
Today’s race was a different story, because Max had been leading during the entire weekend, always coming out on top for all the practices, qualifying, and even during the race itself.
Later that night, Max called you and you immediately congratulated him for the win. "See, you don't need a lucky charm." He made a sound in denial, "I think it's because I called you right before getting in the car, but we can test it properly when you're at a race again."
"You'll have to try harder than that to convince me," you teased with a chuckle. "I have two more weeks to convince you in person, I think I can manage."
"You're going to be here for the whole two weeks?" You could hear the grin in his voice, "I'm flying out in two days, plus the last time I checked, I have a date with the most attractive woman I know and I am not cancelling those plans at all."
You muttered his name, "did I ever tell you that you're the sweetest." He hummed, "maybe, but I don’t mind hearing it again."
"You're the sweetest, kindest and I'm glad you're coming back."
"Did you think I wouldn't?" You shrugged, "well, I thought you would be busy with the season and all." He was quiet for a moment, making your jaw drop, "you didn't."
He hummed and you gasped, "Max..."
"Yes, schat?" He pretended as if nothing was wrong. "Did you cancel any plans for the week?" You asked, slipping past the unknown word he used, knowing that you'll be searching it up later.
"None were as important as flying back to you, but I think that Christian is keeping an eye on me," he revealed and while you wanted to comment on his words, you were intrigued by his boss. "Why's that?"
"He keeps wondering why I am more interested in my phone than the meetings." You couldn't hold in your laugh, "Max, I had no idea you were in meetings while texting me."
Before the conversation could continue on, you heard pitter patter of footsteps coming down the stairs. You noticed the time, and it was past Isabella's usual bedtime so you wondered why she was still awake.
"Hold on, Max, I think Bella's awake." Isabella walks towards you with a shy smile, quickly climbing onto the couch and cuddling you.
You didn’t hang up, instead you put your phone on the side as you wrapped your arms around her. "Mama, do I have to go to daddy's next week?"
"You don't want to?" You asked while brushing your fingers through her hair. You felt her shrug, "I don't know."
"Did something happen?" You pulled back to see her face that had a frown growing. "I met Emma,"
"Yeah? How is she?" Her frown turned into a small smile as she thought of Emma, "very nice, she plays some games with me, oh and we baked together too."
"That's good..but?" You urged, watching her small smile slip back into a frown. "But daddy doesn't spend time with me anymore and he says bad things about you."
You raised your brow, wanting to focus on your daughter's words before you think about having another conversation with Tyler. "Like what?"
"He says that you're not a good person but I think you're amazing! You're the best mama in the whole world." Her little arms reached around you, placing a small kiss on your cheek.
"Aw thank you, angel," you peppered kisses all over her cheeks until she started giggling.
"So do I have to go?" She asked, snuggling up next to you while fighting back a yawn. You shook your head, "no, if you don't want to, then you don't have to go."
"Good, I want to spend time here, with you and Maxy," her toothy grin was back as soon as she mentioned him. "With Max? You like him?" You could've guessed her answer but it was reassuring when she nodded, "sooo much, he's so nice and he buys me ice cream and glittery clips."
You threw your head back with a laugh, "oh Bella, you can't just like him because he buys things for you."
"But mama he's also nice and he makes you smile." She stated, making you snap your head towards her, and you could see her smile turning a little mischievous.
"What?" She shifted in your lap, wrapping her fingers in your hair as she continued speaking, "I like it when you smile and he makes you smile, right mama?"
"Yeah he does." You glanced at the phone, the call still ongoing so you know Max heard every part of your conversation.
Looking back at your daughter, you suggested, "why don't you go back to sleep, you have school tomorrow morning."
"Can you read me a story?" She asked with hopeful eyes, and you quickly nodded, "of course, why don't you get all comfy in bed and I'll be right there?"
"Okay mama." you kissed her forehead before she slid off your lap, running back upstairs.
You pick up the phone again, "are you still there?" Max hummed in response, "yeah, I'm here."
"I'm guessing you heard everything," you didn't mind it at all, but still needed confirmation. "I did. She not wrong, you are an amazing mother." He chose not to comment on the topic relating to your ex, knowing that it would ruin the mood.
"I've had help lately," your tone indicates that you're speaking of Max as help. "I try."
"Before Bella comes back down to ask for you again, I have to say one thing," Max started and you urged him to continue, "go on,"
"You make me smile too," he stated, reiterating the comment made by your daughter.
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
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could you do something about how alastor gets jealous and how he shows it? Like what things would get him jealous and stuff like that and then how he would go about it? Thank you!
I guess I gotta- 🥵
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Alastor being a red flag, Wifey is into it even though she pretends not to be, A widdle suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
It doesn't take much to make Alastor jealous, he has a big ego to defend and doesn't like to share your attention
He also doesn't think a lot of people are worthy of your attention so that's a big part of it
Alastor is almost childish the way he acts out when he's jealous, it's painfully obvious even though he denies it every time
He sulks and acts out to get your attention back on him, doing anything he can to make you just look at him
He's rude and intimidating to anyone he thinks is flirting with you or trying to take you for themselves
After every incident, he tries to pretend like nothing happened and refuses to acknowledge his jealous streak
Can't people just understand that you're a married woman and that Alastor deserves all of your time???
Someone is talking to you and you're laughing too hard, cheeks a little too pink? Alastor is right there to sniff out any ill intention
"What's so funny, my dear? Surely you're not gossiping without me.."
He's wrapping a protective arm around you and kissing your cheek, eyeing the other person the entire time as he asserts his husbandly dominance over them
"Hm? Oh! He was telling me a funny joke about-"
Alastor takes a break from kissing your wrist and palm to snap his gaze to the other man, a wicked gleam in his eye
"Ohhhh! So you're a clown! Wonderful~! Your attire had me wondering what you do for a living, but now it all makes sense!"
The other person is visibly uncomfortable by your husband's unspoken challenge and backs out of the conversation with their tail between their legs
"I guess he had other things to do~"
You roll your eyes as Alastor nuzzles your neck, petting his around his ears and antlers
"You're are not a very subtle man, my dear."
You're dancing with someone who's not him? Alastor will physically shut that shit down
He spends maybe a full minute pouting and ignoring everyone else around him, eyes locked on you and your dance partner
"Alastor, are you even listening?"
"Out of all the women here, why did he choose MY wife? I walked away for one second, and he snatched her up!"
He doesn't care for how closely they're holding you, the way they blush and smile from your attention
Alastor isn't having it, striding over and using his hip to push the man away from you and off the dance floor, taking your hand
You're trying not to smile at him, pressing against your husband as you take his hand and dance with him
"Alastor, that was rude..."
He simply chuckles and spins you around happily, snapping his fingers to change the song into something more romantic
"I would say I'm sorry but we both know I'm not~ Besides, I waited for my chance to dance with you!"
It's hard to stay mad at him when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the world and holding you like you're something precious
It helps that he's so handsome, you can't help but lean up and steal a kiss from him, feeling familiar butterflies at the touch
"You've been dancing with me all night, and you barely waited a minute... you greedy demon~"
He leans into your hand as you cup his cheek, tail wagging from having your undivided attention again
"Is it a crime that I want to hog my darling wife? That I crave every opportunity to dance with her and steal the show?"
He's leaning in for another kiss, and it makes you instinctively move in closer to meet his lips
"It will be if you keep injuring people~"
And those are just some examples of people who weren't flirting with you, it's so much worse when someone actually wants you
You're waiting for your husband to meet with you for your date, dressed up and looking your absolute best
When you hear a sharp whistle from behind, only to see a sleazy looking demon towering over you and eyeing your body
"And just where do you think you're going looking like that, beautiful? My place is that way~"
He's much too close, placing a hand on the wall behind you in order to keep you from running, completely unaware of the danger he's in
You can't help but roll your eyes at the situation
"I'm flattered, really I am... but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for someone, actually."
You casually move out from under his arm, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkens as you fix your appearance
"Oh really? And just who might you be waiting for? Let me guess, your boyfriend?"
He doesn't look like he believes you, making air quotes around the word boyfriend
You can't help but laugh at the poor soul, putting a hand on your hip as you whip around to face him-
"Husband, actually~ My name is Alastor though maybe you'll recognize my other name! The Radio Demon~ Maybe you've heard of me?"
It's such a treat to watch the cocky demon lose his composure in fear and so sexy to watch your husband be the cause of it
The demon is so much larger than Alastor but he's practically cowering away from him, Alastor grinning at him as he tilts his head
"Look uh-I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"
Your husband tuts at the demon, antlers already growing as he morphs into his larger demonic form
You can't help but blush at how sweet Alastor is being, rushing to your rescue like this
"Didn't realize what? That you were hitting on my wife? You think I would just stand by and let you think you have a shot with her? She's much too far out of your league, unfortunately."
He's so cute when he's jealous
"Darling, do be quick with that? I don't want to miss our reservation-and no eating him! I don't want you to spoil your appetite!"
Alastor looks at you and visibly blushes at how good you look, the other demon simply an afterthought as he tears them apart
"My dear, you look absolutely ravishing~ How am I going to keep the other men from looking at you when you're so delectable?"
He's still humongous, a large claw reaching out to stroke your leg tenderly, a lovesick expression on his face
You can practically see the hearts in his eyes~ Smiling at your husband and blowing him a kiss
"It's a good thing that you're the only man I have eyes for then, isn't it?"
He shrinks back down to his normal size and kisses your hand before wrapping an arm around you as you two walk together
"It's something that I'm extraordinarily grateful for~"
You can't help but lean your head against him, letting him nuzzle the top of your head in an affectionate manner
"Though~ I wouldn't mind a refresher of just how much you adore me...~"
You can't help but snort at the comment, gently slapping his chest before pulling him in for a kiss
"Dinner first~ You'll need your strength~"
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I might go back and change this one a bit ngl
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ma1dita · 1 month
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BABEEE happy birthday!! (i'm so terribly late i'm so sorry) congrats on 23💖
🐥 so i'm having thoughts right now about luke x reader and physical affection. like maybe one of them being touch starved and always craving the other person's touch and the other person noticing it and doing it more? maybe from platonic (i will go down with best friends to lovers) to romantic, i'm just on this brainrot tonight
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x reader
a/n: back from the klerb but here with a classic 4am post 🥂 but the hangxiety wont let me rest until this is out! ill edit this in the morning... or not 😗
wc: 1.1k
It’s hard to miss what you’ve never had.
Luke Castellan was never a touchy guy. Sure, he’ll hold a new camper’s hand during welcome tours (especially the little ones who can barely keep up with his long legs; if they’re lucky they get a piggy back ride), and he won’t shy away from a clap on the back when his strategies for capture the flag bring his team to victory (they always do, mind you), and when he feels like it, he’ll even shove Annabeth playfully to show her he adores her (but she packs a punch now that she’s older).
It never really goes past that, and he’s never had to think too hard about it—physical touch.
He’s the one who takes care of others—a part of his nature like it is for Hermes’ cabin to take in unclaimed demigods. But something changed in the months that he’s gotten closer to you. At first, he’d bite his tongue at the way you’re so open to patting his cheek when he does something funny (which he doesn’t try to make a show of, but now…), how you choose to sit so close to him during bonfires that your knees touch (the Apollo kids could be singing about the heavens falling down on them for all he cares but he zeroes in on every word that leaves your lips), and the way you’d lock your fingers with him for a pinky promise after every little thing ‘to make sure it’s real’ (Luke didn’t understand the merit of a pinky promise over whether you could have his dessert for the next week if you took over arts and crafts with the kiddie campers for him; truthfully he’d give it to you anyway). It was unusual for him to have someone comfort him, to show care without a true reason. But he didn’t realize how much more it bothered him now that you wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
Silena and some of the other Aphrodite children had asked you the very defining question of, “Do you like Luke Castellan?” and having never thought of it that way, or being able to put your feelings for him in words instead of fingers in his belt loops or in the muss of his curls—that shit was terrifying!
You spent all Saturday afternoon at the docks with them belly down under the glare of the sun’s rays as they explained to you what the five love languages are. By the end of it, sunburn wasn’t the only reason you felt hot.
“Your love language is physical touch,” one of Silena’s older half-siblings—Connelly, says like he’s explaining that the sky is blue, “And Luke’s not that type of guy! Think he’s more acts of service…”
“Ooh, or words of affirmation….” another one of them muses, but the sound of your heartbeat tunes it all out. Well shit, have you been sending him the wrong signals? Or are there even any signals you want to send him? 
Nevertheless, in the matters of love or even the tiniest whisper of it—maybe there’s no one else you can trust with this stuff besides Cabin 10.
Wrong.
Absolutely wrong. Whatever the hell you’ve been convinced or whatever’s changed since last weekend—Luke just knows he hates it, and he’s angry. He’s angry at how you gasp in surprise every time you brush shoulders during archery practice when you used to let him fix your form, he’s angry at how you’ll squeeze campers’ shoulders to tell them they’re doing a good job carrying the strawberry crates—and all he gets is a mumbled ‘Thanks, Castellan’ when he stacks them up and takes your load.
Luke’s so terribly angry that Travis told him he’s been walking around like a big strawberry, face red and irritated—but not at you. 
He realizes he’s also angry at the fact that he can’t protect you from the onslaught of a rain cloud—or maybe it was the fact that you’re so okay with the rain touching your skin and seeping through your orange shirt like he wishes you’d let him. He’s angry at the way the wind blows your hair into your face and your fingers brush the strands away like he wishes he can. Most of all, Luke Castellan is angry that he didn’t know how good a simple touch could be until he lost it—before he even really got to appreciate yours.
You’re sitting on the opposite end of the row in the amphitheater laughing with your friends and the furrow in his thick brow is a tell-tale sign of his discomfort. Luke doesn’t dare to remember what it’s like before you to be honest—he’d rather give up Elysium instead of having you ignore him like this. He calls your name, a tinge of both anger and desperation until you look over at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks. The hold you have on him transcends the physical touch of your fingers but he wants, no—needs you next to him.
“C’mere! Why are you so far away?”
Luke hopes it doesn’t sound pathetic, but a crooked grin splits across his face as soon as you make your way over, sitting down and crossing your legs away from him. It’s still too far, even if he can feel your breath on his shoulder.
“Did I do something to make you angry? I…” The words escape his mouth in a jumble—quick wit from his father escaping him, though he knows not to rely on that asshole, god or not. You mutter words that almost escape him too, and he leans in, chasing your hands and putting them in his own until they’re gentle and soft in his lap.
“No, no…. I just… don’t want to push your boundaries. I know you don’t like it when I’m too touchy,” and he thinks his heart clenches a little like how you’re squeezing his hands. Luke shouldn’t feel instant gratification from a subconscious action. He wants to know you mean it with him—that’s what he can’t put into words.
“I….like it when you do.”
You notice the way his fingers tangle tighter with yours, pinkys interlocking with yours. When he lets go, Luke wraps his arm around your shoulders until you’re able to laugh in the crook of his neck. He chooses to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth when your head sways to face him at the silly tune about centaurs and then you realize that Luke loves the way you love him. You wonder if he accidentally missed meeting your lips, but then the noise in your head quiets down when he pulls you closer, lips locking tenderly, intentionally—as they were always meant to.
You both hear a giggle that sounds a lot like tinkling bells belonging to children of Aphrodite. 
For once they were wrong about love. 
Luke’s tongue parts through your lips and meets your own like they’re in a long awaited embrace, dancing and devouring you from the inside out but this, you— are what he can rely on. This, your touch, and how he chooses to let it consume him, never letting go.
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