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#i love him so much you would not understand
neil-gaiman · 14 hours
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Hello Mr Gaiman, I just wanted to properly thank you for including so much casual queerness in Good Omens, specifically season 2.
I watched the second season with one of my best friends, who isn't homophobic, but he's a "true blue white aussie" and queerness isn't really a part of his life. Being queer myself, that isn't ideal, but we never really talked about it, and I valued his friendship enough to never need to bring it up.
But after watching this season together, he's hooked on Aziraphale and Crowley's story and wants a happy ending for both of them, even though he would never usually watch a show with queer main characters. His love for the show gave me enough confidence to finally, properly, come out to him, and although he probably doesn't quite understand my labels, I feel that he's more accepting of me than he would have been before.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
I'm so glad - for you and for him.
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a-b-riddle · 3 days
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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lemonlover1110 · 3 days
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𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇!
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Pairing: Firefighter!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji tries to be the best father he can to his baby boy
Warnings: Fluff
*This isn't finished and it probably won't be but do enjoy what I did end up writing🥹🫶 I'll do a different AU for firefighter Toji
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“Toji!” You call out for your husband, wondering why he isn’t in bed. You approach the nursery, and that’s where you find your husband putting his finger under his son’s nose to check if he’s breathing. You never thought that you’d find Toji of all people doing this, but he really is doing everything he can to make sure the baby is breathing, while also making sure he doesn’t wake Megumi up.
Even after six months of having Megumi, Toji makes this part of his nightly routine. Megumi’s tiny stomach very visibly rises and falls, so there’s no need for Toji to be doing all of this. But Toji’s scared, and a new parent, so he still does.
He shushes you before you even dare speak too loud, you better not wake up the baby. You roll your eyes, a chuckle leaving your lips as you walk back to your bedroom, and your husband follows behind not too shortly after. 
“I love seeing you worry about the baby, but don’t you think you’re doing too much?” You ask him as you get in bed. Toji takes off his shirt before getting into bed right next to you. He pulls you into his warm embrace and kisses the top of your head. “Please tell me you turned off the alarm.”
“I have to get up and check up on him.” He responds, and you would laugh if you weren’t affected by it. Toji’s alarm wakes you up, and it’s annoying to be constantly woken up in the middle of the night. 
“Toji, you’re also really tired. If Megumi needs anything, he’ll cry.” You assure him, but Toji won’t listen to any of it. You understand him better than anybody since you’re also a new parent, but you already have to wake up to feed the hungry baby in the middle of the night, you don’t need to be woken up four other times by Toji.
“I still want to make sure he’s okay. What if he’s just sitting in his crib, waiting for daddy to come?” Toji asks, and you let out an exasperated sigh.
“You’re so right, Toji. But can you please go to the couch? I need to rest because I actually have to wake up and feed him.” You tell him, and Toji groans before letting go of you and sitting up on the bed. 
“You don’t mean it.” He says as he grabs his pillows. He drags his feet as he walks to the door, waiting for you to stop him. You hate to sleep without Toji but you’re tired and you don’t want to be woken up multiple times in the night for no reason.
“Close the door on your way out!” You yell at him, getting comfortable in your space. You want to go one night without interrupted sleep, and you hope tonight is that night. As much as it sucks to sleep without Toji, you need at least one night of good sleep. You hate to hurt his feelings, but you’re also too tired to care.
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“Look here, Megumi!” You put on your baby voice as you talk to your son, attempting to get him to look at your phone camera. Megumi doesn’t care though, he’s looking away, kicking his feet and yelling for the dog. He’s opening and closing his little fist in the direction of the dog, he can’t make it more clearer what he wants. “C’mon, baby, I want to send your father a cute picture.”
He keeps ignoring you, yelling to the dog. You watch the dog walk toward you and the baby, so you pick Megumi up from his play mat before the dog can lick the baby’s face. You take Megumi back to your bedroom, hoping that once you put him down on your bed, you can finally take the picture that you want to send to your husband. 
You put him down on the bed, and just as you open the phone camera to take the perfect picture before he can look away, you receive a call. Toji is calling to facetime, which is perfect timing. You accept it, immediately flipping the camera to put the attention on the baby.
“Oh my god, is that my cute little urchin wearing a sailor outfit?” Toji isn’t the type to fawn over this type of stuff, or so he thought. Toji has grown soft, in his own ways at least, for his baby boy. He’s laughing, calling his coworkers over to show off his baby. Yup, Toji has become that person.
Toji just loves being a father, he was scared that he wouldn’t. He knows some parents love their kids to death but don’t like being a parent at all– Luckily for him, that isn’t the case. He loves the fact that he’s teaching this little human the basics of how to live while also filling him with love. He loves it so much that he’s almost about to ask you for a second baby.
“You look tired.” You tell him when he stops showing off Megumi to everyone, flipping the camera on you. Toji is barely getting any sleep, even though you keep pushing him to get rest. 
“I’m fine.” He replies, and before you can argue with him, he changes the topic to more important manners, “Show me the baby, I miss him.”
“I was just showing you the baby.” You roll your eyes but you still turn the camera so Toji can watch his baby boy. 
“Megumi! Look at the phone.” Toji says, noticing how Megumi looks away. Megumi is stretching. Your hand goes to his tummy, tickling it which causes the baby to look back at you and giggle. It fills Toji up with immense joy but also regret that he can’t always be by Megumi’s side to experience it all.
Until he hears a sound you both dread, something that makes the loudest sigh leave your lips. That part is the only thing he hates about being a father. 
“Alright, I’ll see you later.” You hang up the phone before Toji can even mutter a goodbye, picking up the baby and taking him to the changing table.
You realize that in the past six months, you haven’t had any proper alone time with him. You’re both too focused on being the best parent to Megumi, that you’ve completely put your relationship on the side. He’s put everything on hold, even his own health, to be there for Megumi whenever he’s free. 
You miss him, and while you knew that your life would completely change the moment Megumi came along, you didn’t expect to be so separated from him. You want to get Megumi off your hands for a couple of hours so you can spend some nice alone time with Toji, without having him worry about Megumi needing something. 
It’s hard to get Megumi off your hands, especially when he’s so attached to you. He’s also a crybaby which certainly doesn’t help your case. 
“Do you want to go see your daddy soon?” You ask your son, picking him up from the changing table. It’s not like he can answer, so you take his coo as a yes. You need to arrange something with the help of a couple of people, and who’s better for this than some of Toji’s coworkers?
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“Fushiguro! You have some visitors here!” Toji hears from the kitchen, and he raises his brows, wondering who’s looking for him. When he walks into the kitchen, his heart skips a beat at the sight of his wife and son. Toji practically runs to your side when he sees you, pecking your lips before he takes Megumi from your arms.
“What are you two doing here?” Toji’s happiness radiates off his voice. Out of all things, he didn’t expect you and his son to come visit, but here you are. Toji kisses Megumi’s chubby cheek, while the baby’s hand grips the collar of his dad’s shirt.
“Just wanted to visit daddy for a bit since you’re always complaining about not spending enough time with Megumi.” You give him your best smile before you catch a glimpse of the woman that you came here to talk to. You squeeze Toji’s forearm before telling him, “I have to talk to Yuki, I’ll be right back.”
“Huh?” Toji furrows his brows but ultimately he doesn’t care because he has his baby boy in his arms and Megumi is trying to shove his hand into Toji’s mouth. He often wishes he could trade places with you– Toji loves his job but the moment Megumi took his first breath, he became Toji’s first priority. His favorite person; and you, of course. 
“Yuki, can we talk?” Your voice comes off as a whisper, and she raises her brows. A smirk comes to her lips before she lets out,
“Are we getting another mini Toji?” She’s rather loud, and you feel your face burn. You look absolutely mortified, and she bursts into laughter. She nudges her head to the table and begins to walk to it, making you follow behind. She pulls out a chair for you, but you shake your head since you don’t really have plans of staying for long. “What’s up?”
“You’re the person here that I trust the most… And you’re great with baby Megumi.” You bring up, and you feel yourself dragging it out. She knows, but she waits for you to say it, tapping her finger on the table as she waits for you to ask the question. “Can you take care of Megumi on Friday? I want to go out with Toji.”
“Man… I don’t know, I’m not that great with kids.” She responds, and you know it’s a lie, at least from what you’ve seen she’s great with Megumi. You’re willing to argue just about anything because you want to get Megumi off your hands for a night. 
“Really? Baby Megumi adores you.” You claim, which isn’t a lie, but Megumi likes just about anyone. “It’s a way for baby Megumi and his favorite auntie to get closer.”
She laughs, she knows what you’re doing, but she doesn’t mind. She has Friday off and has no important plans so she might as well try to figure out what goes on in a baby’s mind. She ends up saying, “As long as I don’t have to take him anywhere, I’m not sure how I’d work a carseat on a motorcycle.”
“Of course! If anything comes up you can call me and we’ll be at home within minutes.” You answer excitedly, and before you run in search for Toji, and even though he was just in the kitchen, he’s nowhere near the place when you look for him.
“Toji!” You call out for him, unsure of where he went with the baby. The firehouse is a big place, you sure aren’t going to look in every room. 
“Check the fire truck!” You hear from Yuki, and you roll your eyes at the mere suggestion. She’s not looking at it, you’re not going to entertain it– But she also knows Toji and that sounds like something he’d do. You stop in your tracks and let out a sigh before going to the firetruck. 
You walk over to the driver’s side, opening the door to find Toji putting Megumi’s hands on the wheel– A sight you find the most hilarious since Toji made it his mission to put a firefighter hat on the baby’s head; but you notice it’s smaller, leading you to assume that Toji bought this just for him and kept it hidden until now.
“Look, honey, Megumi told me he wanted to be just like his daddy when he grew up.” Toji chuckles, moving Megumi’s hands on the wheel which Toji finds hilarious. Megumi doesn’t find it as funny though. 
“Baby, he can barely sit up. Try it again in a few more months.” You say as you take the baby from his arms, and Toji clicks his tongue. He follows behind you as you walk back to the kitchen to take the diaper bag and go back to your car.
“Why are you leaving so soon?” He asks, annoyed that you’ve given him his baby and taken him away just as quickly.
“We just came to say hi and talk to Yuki, and since we’ve done that, we can go home now.” You respond. The man is pouting, something that you never thought you’d see from a man as big as Toji. When you have the diaper bag in your possession, you peck his lips, “Go save lives, baby.”
“What did you need to talk to Yuki about?” Toji questions, wondering what was so important that you decided to come all the way here.
“Babysitting, we’re going out on Friday.” You tell him, and his brows perk up. He’d think that would be more of a question instead of a statement, but it’s the latter. “You can’t say no, we haven’t had some proper alone time in months.”
“I wasn’t going to say no.” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking at the ground like a child. He was going to say no, and you can’t help but chuckle. Your hand goes under his chin and you begin to inspect his face.
“You’re also turning off those alarms to get proper rest. I think you’re annoying Megumi too by constantly coming into his room to invade his space.” And before he can argue with you, you leave him alone to share his thoughts with himself.
He guesses you're right.
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vivwritesfics · 2 days
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So mick or max
Heat/rut
Reader having been waiting for it and purposely flirting with others people to trigger it
(Driver doesn't Wang to mate cause he has seen how much in pain a human can be if mated to a wolf)
Now that has been thrownxoit the window
Reader being fucked seven ways to sunday, being mates cuaee they are literally begging for it 🫠👹👹
Throw ib some breeding kink and a worried driver afterwards and it is 👌🫶
I LOVE YOU
Hope you feel better 🫶🫶🫶
ILYYYYYY and I went with Max bc I don't write mick lol - also I haven't written abo in maybe three years so I'm a little rusty but damn I've missed it.
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, biting, hickies, breeding kink
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Max could have killed her. Not literally, he loved her too much to let his instincts take over like that. Well, his instincts would have told him to protect her.
The way she was giggling with Daniel and hanging off of his arm, Max let the growl rip from his throat. How dare she even think about touching another Alpha.
But it wasn't her fault. She couldn't understand the surge of emotions he was feeling when she was so utterly human. But she was his human.
She turned to Max, batted her pretty eyelashes at him and walked away from Daniel. Max released a breath, but he didnt have long to stay calm. Because then she was walking towards Charles.
He may have been a Beta, but he shouldn't have been scenting her like that. What the fuck was he doing, pressing his nose against her neck like that? If only Max had the guts to claim her, Charles wouldn't dare.
When she made a move towards Esteban, a Beta Max didn't particularly like, he growl and grabbed a hold of her, practically throwing her over his shoulder like a ragdoll.
"Max!" She squeaked, almost excitedly. If she was like him, she would have been able to feel his anger. But she was too human for that.
Max carried her to his drivers room, not caring about the others around him. The world knew about his mate, since he simply couldn't stay away from her.
Once in his drivers room, Max set her down. "What do you think you're doing?" He growled, sticking his nose into her neck and scenting her. She smelt like Daniel and Charles, and he hated it.
The laughing and giggles had stopped as he stared down at her with his steely blue eyes. No, she had become almost sheepish under the stare of the big bad wolf. "I, uh, I heard that jealousy can trigger a rut," she mumbled under her breath.
"Liefde," he said through a groan, nosing at the spot where the mark of his claim over her should be. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"
She pouted at him as he pulled away. "You always say you race better after a rut."
Max let out a laugh, one that reverberated through his chest. "Can you let me get through this race weekend first? And then maybe it will come about naturally."
She knew what he meant. Triggering his rut now would stop him from racing all together. There would be no way to remove him from the bed, remove him from her cunt. Trigger his rut now and he wouldn't stop until his seed filled her belly.
She'd been through one rut with Max before. It was more intense than anything She'd ever been through before. But she loved it. Max, though, he'd been panicking, worried he'd been hurting her through his muddied brain.
She let him get through the weekend. Wore his shirt, his hat, made sure she smelt like him before he raced.
Of course, he won. Maybe it was his desperation to get back to her.
The moment he crossed the finish line, she was in his arms, kissing him the moment he took off his helmet. A win always meant sex, plus his rut was definitely coming.
Max couldn't wait to be done with all the usual formalities. The interviews, the podiums, the meeting with the team. He was irritable, desperate to get to where she was waiting in his hotel room.
As soon as he was done with everything, he made this way back to the hotel. He was rushing, desperate to get back to her.
If all of his flirting with Max's pack mates didn't trigger his rut, seeing her sitting on his bed in the prettiest little negligee certainly did. Maybe it was the smell of her that had a growl leaving his lips and his eyes flashing as he stared down at her.
Immediately he was tenting his pants. She just looked so goddamn pretty, he couldn't get enough. Immediately he pressed his lips to her own. For two seconds, it was sweet.
But then Max had taken over completely, his tongue in her mouth, lips bruising against her own. He moved his lips to her neck and began kissing down the right side. He paid special attention to where her mating mark should have been. But Max wouldn't give her that mark, not until he had a clear mind.
He didn't notice that his hips were grinding against her own. But she was whining as he did, gripping his shoulders.
If Max had more control over his own body, he would have pulled back, would have told her to get out and to let him take care of it on his own. But, in that moment, all he wanted was his girl.
She whined out his name as her fingers reached down to try and pull off his jeans. But the way he was holding her, she was unable to get a good grip. "Need you," she cried through a whine, hands returning to her hair.
Through his muddied mind, Max managed to understand her. Maybe it was because he was feeling the exact same thing. He popped the button on his jeans expertly (his gaming had left him with incredibly skilled fingers) and pulled down the zipper.
But he didn't free himself, not yet. First, he needed to taste her.
His fingers pulled up the material of her negligee, bunching it around her hips. The noise pulled from his lips was inhuman as his lips met the skin of her thigh. God, he loved it, loved noises she made as his lips got closer and closer.
The feel of his tongue running through her folds shouldn't have come as a surprise. But she still released a gasp. "All mine," he said against, the vibrations of his words sending a shiver through his body.
As he sucked at her clit, his fingers moved to penetrate her, the squelching sounds obscene as they filled the room. Her hips rolled against him, riding his fingers Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging and pulling. She cried out his name and he grunted.
Her movements were desperate and frantic as she chased her own release. Max had stopped moving his fingers, lips still working as he let her work herself on his fingers.
But Max didn't let her come undone. He pulled away from her, eyes flashing as he freed himself from his jeans. He pulled her close, holding her legs up to her chest. He pressed his nose against her neck and inhaled.
As his cock pushed through her folds, he pressed kisses against her neck. If he could have said anything other than 'mine' as he rutted against her, he would have told her he loved her.
He set a bruising pace as she felt his teeth against her neck. She couldn't say anything other than his name, leaving her lips like a prayer. He rolled his hips against her own again and again, the pace he set animalistic and bruising.
It didn't take long until she came undone beneath him, body shaking as her legs clamped around his middle. Incoherent babbles left her lips as Max kept going, gripping her so fucking tight.
"Gonna fill you up," he said between grunts. "Gonna breed you until you're full of my babies."
His teeth sank into the skin of her shoulder, not hard enough to break it, as he came. His hips stilled, but he didn't pull out, body half laying against her own.
When Max finally pulled out of her, he laid beside her and touched that spot on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, liefde," he whispered, fingers brushing the hickies and marks littering her skin.
The few minutes he had of clarity before he was ready to go again was spent cuddling. He was going to fill her over and over again for the next few days and, if she wasn't on birth control, there was no way she would have been coming out of this rut not pregnant.
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luveline · 17 hours
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
408 notes · View notes
danikamariewrites · 2 days
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Babying Azriel Headcanon
Azriel x reader
A/n: just some hc about showing Az some love. I’ve missed writing just for Azzy so enjoy this
Warnings: none
In public and in front of the IC Azriel is very affectionate with you
He does not shy away from PDA
But behind closed doors this male CLINGS to you
Like he is so in love with you it’s not even funny and you make sure Az knows he is loved
You basically pavloved him into needing your touch
You always throw our self at him when he comes him, jumping into his arms and telling him how happy you are to have him home and in your arms
He doesn’t move from the entry way unless he sees you running at him
Az does understand that you won’t always be home when he gets there and he does come home late some nights
He does get sad when you can’t hug him first thing though
Whenever he frowns it breaks your heart. You always have to fix that immediately
Az came home from Windhaven with his brothers one evening, just in time for dinner. Nyx had ran up to his dad and uncle with you trailing not far behind. You waited until the little boy greeted them for you to throw yourself at Az. He looked so worn down you considered not throwing yourself into his arms. Once Az saw you his face lit up! He stood ready, arms open and knees bent a little, ready to pick you up and hold you tight to his chest.
You launch yourself at him, jumping and wrapping your arms and legs around Azriel. “Azzy! I missed you!” You place kisses all over his face. He doesn’t care that Cassian and Rhys are watching. Azriel basks in your love and attention. Once you’re done he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your calming scent. Cass and Rhys’s jaws drop as you talk to him in a babying voice that you use when you’re alone. You just can’t help it!
Kisses kisses kisses all of the kisses for Az always!
Frowning? Kisses all over his face until he’s giddy
Before bed kisses or he cannot sleep
Sometimes you’ll jokingly forget, just rolling over and saying goodnight sweetly. “AH” Az yells, “where is my goodnight kiss little miss?” You giggle, “Huh? What are you talking about?” Az pulls you on top of him and he kisses you hard, never letting up until you hold him back
Morning kisses and goodbye kisses before he leaves for training/work. “Bye Azzy, I love you.” You say pecking his lips quickly. Az isn’t fully satisfied with your little peck, pulling you by your waist flush to his front he kisses you deeply
You’re the own who’s supposed to flustering him! When he lets go your cheeks are pink and you’re out of breath, waving goodbye as he sends you a wink while leaving
Packing him lunch if he’s out all day even if it’s just at the house of wind
You add a note with his food telling him how much you love him
Az swears his teeth are going to fall out if you keep baking him treats. But he would be so sad if you ever stopped baking or packing him lunches with little notes he would cry his eyes out
You make sure all of his weapons are clean and organized
I know for a fact Azriel likes things clean and organized and if he had a label maker he would use the shit out of it
When he comes home from long missions you don’t let him lift a finger! That is unacceptable, he’s just spent days Mother knows where, in an uncomfortable spot and is disgusting
You always have a bath ready for him along with a towel that you warmed by the fire
You wash his hair and massage his neck and shoulders. He washes himself though, he doesn’t want you doing all of the work
Most nights you insist on him laying on top of you because you like holding him close and running your fingers through his silky hair
When he’s sick Azriel really plays it up just to get more attention from you
You make him soup and tea, you even spoon feed him while he lays in bed
“I think I’m warm will you feel my forehead?” Az knows full well he’s burning up from his small fever he just wants to feel your cool hand on his skin. You make sure to touch his forehead and cup his cheeks
You tuck him in making sure he’s all warm and snuggly
When he’s feeling better he still acts sick for an extra day because he isn’t ready to leave the comfort of your care just yet
410 notes · View notes
solecize · 3 days
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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you welcome your boyfriend back to the country with a surprise party, just as the clock is ticking to say goodbye again. the big day is almost here and enlistment brings couples either one of two things: a ring or a breakup.  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), infidelity, foul language, substance use, underage drinking, mentions of the covid-19 pandemic, sexually suggestive content  𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. the series is told in non-chronological order. note that the main character is a member of a fictional idol group. more warnings may be added as the story is written. join the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤm.list | next
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you say, "i don't understand, " and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't
TODAY’S TOP HEADLINE: bts’ rm, jimin, taehyung and jungkook set to enlist in the coming weeks! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤautumn 2023
the confrontation   when it rained, it poured and you felt like you haven't seen even a glimpse of the sun in ages. there was a nagging feeling in your gut that it was too far gone, but like everything else for the past ten years, you swallowed it down and swept it under the rug. bad feelings didn’t exist in your relationship. that was the unspoken rule. yet, it was growing more and more difficult to mask the disappointment in your eyes or the frown fighting your lips. today marked the worst of your attempts.
  seoul was unusually calm tonight and it scared you. when you moved to the city ages ago to begin your journey as an idol trainee, it was nothing but intimidating for your meek, pre-teen self. eventually, over time, your love for the city bloomed and it was truthfully because of jungkook. once young teenagers that arrived to seoul alone, you found solace in each other and embraced the change as one. he made you fall in love with seoul the same way he made you fall in love with him. dates, nightclubs, late night adventures, and years worth of moments within the city limits. 
  however, the streets were as hushed as you were, as you gripped your steering wheel like a robot. 
  the decision had been long made and you knew it was going to come around at some point, so there was no use in fighting it. after going without seeing your boyfriend for months, it should have been nothing but pure excitement.
  “you’re awfully quiet,” murmured jungkook, glancing over at you from the passenger seat.
  you were already annoyed to begin with, when he mentioned that he was going to have a driver pick him up from the airport, instead of asking for you. it felt like he didn’t even expect to have you waiting for him, considering the two of you had been apart due to his time working in the united states. you thought he’d be insisting for you to be the first person he saw once he came back. these frustrations were on top of several other things, which you’d been dreading to confront for even longer of a time.
  and then, there was also the velvet box you spotted in the background of one of your facetime calls. you didn’t bring it up, but it was living in your mind everyday since. with jungkook’s big day fast approaching, there were a lot of conflicting ideas in your head.
  you shrugged. “i’ve been filming long hours. not getting that much sleep.”
  the look jungkook gave you read that he knew that you weren’t being a hundred percent honest, but he didn’t say anything. his eyes returned to being fixated on his phone.
  after over ten years of knowing each other, you and jungkook could see through each other like glass. the only problem was that nobody ever wanted to speak up. you feared the glaring possibility of other buried conflict dating further back into the relationship because of this dynamic.
  you didn’t think you deserved the blame for the tension in the air. there were several things in your mind, but jungkook wasn’t exactly a person who could easily mask their emotions. something was off with him, too, and you needed to figure out what it was. you could only hope for the best case scenario because otherwise, it was going to be your worst nightmare. there was no situation you could fathom where his behaviour was a result of an in between. 
  keeping your voice casual, you asked, “who are you texting?”
  “my mom.”
  you held back a sigh - jungkook was never particularly keen on involving you with his family. though you’d been together since he was sixteen, you always felt like he kept you an arm’s reach away from that part of your life and you never understood why.
  “oh. tell her i say hi,” you said and he hummed in response. 
  whilst you weren’t in a talkative mood, it wasn’t like jungkook was doing anything to keep the conversation flowing either. you guys obviously texted and called during his time away, but the present atmosphere was awkward, like there was nothing to talk about after his grand return. you hugged and kissed at the airport, asked how his flight was, and that was that. driving him felt like a business endeavour, rather than welcoming your long-term partner back to the country.
  after a few minutes, jungkook finally looked up from his phone. upon peering out the window, he grew confused and turned to you.
  he questioned, “where are we going? the apartment is in the other direction.”
  “just wait,” you assured, forcing a small smile. “take off your hoodie and put on what i have for you in the backseat.”
  there was a shopping bag sitting behind jungkook’s seat and he reluctantly reached over, revealing a silk ysl shirt that you picked up that very afternoon. sighing, he did as you asked and made the change. you didn’t care to look over at your boyfriend’s shirtless body, too irritated at the curtness of the conversation.
  you just wanted to get to the destination, the heavy silence becoming too much for you. there wasn’t even music on. you found yourself focusing too much on it, as you finally pulled up to the infamous hotel azure. somehow tucked away in the busy songpa district, it is unassuming to the civilian eye, but a well-known name amongst the circles of south korea’s entertainment industry. you didn’t “make it” in entertainment until you attended a party at hotel azure.
  jungkook shifted in his seat. “what is this?” his tone was demanding, which immediately put you off. “the plan was to go home.”
  to be fair, the last time that the two of you were at the azure hotel, jungkook wound up with a bloody nose after getting into it with an not-to-be-named yg idol at one of jackson wang’s wild parties. you weren’t even sure what happened yourself, bleary eyed for the majority of the night with several substances in your body. hotel azure was for idols at the top of the world with everything to lose, a favourite place of yours around 2018. it was now a place that you actively tried to avoid, but made an exception for the special occasion.
  “calm down,” you shot back, not letting him get away with the voice he used. “just wait, i said.”
  “i’m tired, y/n,” jungkook pleaded, as you stopped the car for the valet to take. 
  you ignored him - it wasn’t like it was up to you - and unbuckled your seatbelt, not waiting a second for jungkook. 
  not only did you pick up your boyfriend from the airport, you also spent hours meticulously preparing your appearance for the night. it didn’t seem like jungkook noticed, other than at the airport, when he questioned why you were wearing high heels. 
  you never wore heels unless you were working, but that changed when you met jungkook. he loved it when you wore heels and by the time your respective trainee debts were paid, made it a point. you bought platforms with the anticipation of how your boyfriend would go crazy over them. jungkook gifted you designer jimmy choos and pradas whenever you guys got into a fight. it made you feel your prettiest and he showered you with compliments every time.
  now, he looked at you oddly for it, like you were doing too much.
  jungkook eventually gave up and followed you in without a word, watching you take off your trench coat to reveal a stunning baby pink two-piece dress. the colour glittered under the low lighting of the hotel lobby and the corset accentuated your curves in all the right aways. except, he still did not say a word. this made you frown.
  you handed off your coat to an employee and jungkook did the same. the lobby was empty, but you and jungkook knew exactly where to go, making a beeline for the elevator and pressing the button to move up to the penthouse suite. 
  “why didn’t you warn me about this?” he grumbled under his breath, adjusting his shirt in the mirror.
  because that’s how surprise parties work, you wanted to reply. unfortunately, this was not a surprise party that you wanted to celebrate, so you didn’t even try to keep jungkook excited. you were both quiet, irritable, and only wanted to go home. 
  you said, “this is the part where i cover your eyes and lead you out.”
  jungkook complied and you placed your perfectly manicured hands over his line of vision. other than sharing a hug and kiss earlier, this was the closest you’d physically gotten to your boyfriend in months. your hands were cold and you were close enough that he could hear your breathing - all too uncomfortable. 
  the elevator dinged and you nudged jungkook to step forward. the penthouse’s lights were off, but you could make out the shuffling of feet from behind the kitchen counter. it looked like everything was set up and pristine. then, in just a beat, the entire room lit up and you removed your hands from jungkook’s eyes.
  “SURPRISE!”
  the floor rumbled, voices roaring and bodies popping out from different places - behind pillars, couches and the bar. jungkook’s eyes brightened in a way that you had yet to see since reuniting with him earlier and it made your heart sink. you hadn’t realized how dull his demeanour was around you until something else actually made him smile.
  his closest friends and family gathered in the penthouse and there was a large, golden banner that hung from the walls that said “welcome back jungkook!” the other wall was decorated with another banner, but this one said “good luck rm, v, jimin and jungkook!” 
  jungkook’s older brother was the first one that enveloped him into a bear hug, nearly squeezing the life out of him, then his mom. this was followed by the remainder of his band mates that managed to make the party. you awkwardly stood off to the side, a wide smile plastered on your face to mask your despondence. it seemed like jungkook’s exhaustion only existed when he was sitting in a car with you, as his laughter echoed throughout the room.
  you caught jungkook’s eye and he already knew how you were feeling. while he exchanged words with other friends, it was namjoon who pulled you to the side.
  “hey. you guys did a really great job with the party,” you started, looking around.
  the penthouse of the azure hotel was a thing of beauty, with ceiling high windows that looked over the lights of seoul. everything shone and glimmered - the city skyline, the perfect marble floors, the expensive liquor bottles, and hell, even the perfect teeth of the myriad of a-list south korean celebrities gracing this exclusive party. there wasn’t a wrong way to ever throw a party there, but the group made an extra effort to make jungkook’s homecoming a special one. 
  jungkook was swarmed by several people, all asking about his time in america and how exciting it was. those were the words you used to describe it for him, too, when you sent him off months ago. you watched him take shots with mingyu and eunwoo. 
  namjoon shook his head, “no, no. this wouldn’t be possible without you,” he said and then glanced at jungkook, “and i’m sure he knows it, too.”
  the boys, despite it also serving as a goodbye party before their enlistments, had been helping you plan the surprise for weeks leading up to jungkook’s arrival. it was one of the longest times jungkook had been apart from them and from the country in general, so they wanted to make it extra special. though you were the main mastermind behind the gathering, you initially didn’t want to do it at all. 
  “yeah, i hope so,” you replied, as you poured yourself a glass of white wine. “you guys all deserve it.”
  over the years, jungkook’s band mates slowly became some of your friends, as well. it was somber goodbye for you in all kinds of ways. everyone was preparing to send them off with good luck and high spirits. 
  the boys were also preparing in their own way. you noticed that taehyung and jimin’s girlfriends were missing from the party, which only confirmed your speculations. 
  “it was just bound to happen,” said a voice.
  it was taehyung who joined you and namjoon in a quiet circle at the corner of the living room. all of the boys looked a little bit sad, despite the celebratory atmosphere, but you read a different kind of story in taehyung’s eyes. 
  he smiled with a hint of gloom. “you’re looking around for her, right?”
  as a fellow idol and also a girlfriend to a member of one of the biggest groups in the world, taehyung’s girlfriend grew to become one of your close confidants in the past few years. you guys were polite before, but this connection created a specific bond that couldn’t be understood by anyone else. however, you hadn’t heard from her in a few days and with her absence at taehyung’s goodbye party, you put two and two together. 
  to his side, namjoon clapped a hand on his friend’s back. “sorry, man.”
  “i hope it was cordial,” you mustered up, ignoring the growing heaviness at the pit of your stomach. you could only hope you weren’t next.
  taehyung replied. “she understood, but she wasn’t happy. regardless,” he sighed, “we’re still so young. her career is just blowing up even more, i feel like i’d only be holding her back.” 
  that was the way it went. when enlistment rolled around for most couples, it was either breaking up or a ring. you looked at your feet, not knowing what to say. 
  “jimin also told me that he broke things off with - “
  a loud yelp squeaked from taehyung, who was abruptly jabbed in the side with namjoon’s elbow. the latter cleared his throat and you recognized that look. namjoon only made that face when he pulled the leader card and needed to put someone in their place. you figured that your worries were transparent to those around you.
  namjoon cleared his throat. “not in a chatty mood?”
  while you greeted people during the set-up of the party, you realized that you had yet to actually try socializing. things were awkward with jungkook’s parents, who you long suspected didn’t approve of you for various reasons. in general, most people were interested in chatting with the boys, which you didn’t mind. it was a gathering to send them off, after all.
  “not really. you guys should go mingle with your friends,” you said, taking another sip of your wine. “it’s your party.”
  “i hope i’m not overstepping, but did you and jungkook get in a fight?” taehyung asked.
  you blinked slowly. “no. does it seem like it?”
  “just seems like he’s nervous about something,” he commented and you noticed namjoon glare at him once more, as if to shut up.
  for the first time that night, you felt a glimmer of mixed feelings that left you wondering. why would he be nervous? the big visual forming in your mind was a diamond ring. you and jungkook had contemplated marriage in the past year, but it was also the source of many arguments. you weren’t even sure you wanted to get married now, but your mother had been getting into your ear about you getting older. then, there were your respective companies who lost their shit at the idea. but, what really mattered, was jungkook’s opinion. he seemed to wave it off or change the topic at every opportunity, so your hopes for a ring lived in the back of your mind. 
  despite this, taehyung was right. jungkook looked nervous. he’d been irritated at being dragged to his surprise party - you wondered if it was delusional enough to believe that he had plans for the two of you, instead. 
  for the rest of the night, you continued to keep to yourself. you weren’t lying when you told jungkook you were tired, but you were determined to stay as long as you could and pretend that you and jungkook weren’t stealing mysterious glances at each other for the entire evening. it was obvious and only made you anxious. 
  a few hours later and the party only grew in numbers and in noise. you thought you lost him in the crowd, until you left to refill your nth drink and found him talking to his cousin.
  the two were smiling and laughing, as his cousin appeared to be showing jungkook pictures on his phone. you assumed it was her newborn daughter - she gave birth just two months before her fiance was to be discharged and now that he was back, the wedding was just around the corner. you remembered jungkook telling you that she was proposed to on the day of his enlistment. 
  jungkook caught your eye and he immediately looked away - what the hell was that? he even turned slightly and you couldn’t read his lips. something was going on. you watched him shove his hands in his pockets and you swore you saw the shape of a small square inside.
  eventually, you grew tired of the tension in the air and the music began to make your head pound. the longer you thought about your partner, the greater your anxieties grew. there was a chance you even just although it was late in the year and a fresh sheet of snow adorned the streets of seoul, you decided it was best to step out into the balcony to take some time to breathe. 
  nobody else was there, thankfully, and you let out a shiver when you stepped out. the peppermint air dispelled the haze in your head and in your heart, as taking a deep breath was the greatest relief you felt all night. though your muscles remained tense and you knew you wouldn’t last out in the cold, the balcony was a welcome change.
  you weren’t sure how long you were outside when the door creaked open and just by the footsteps alone, you knew who it was.
  “your guests will miss you,” you said, not even looking behind you.
  at this point, you were hugging yourself to stop shivering. a rustle later and you felt a thick blanket drape over your shoulders, the wool of its make completely enveloping you with much needed warmth. you relaxed your shoulders, but couldn’t look jungkook in the eyes.
  “something’s wrong. tell me.”
  jungkook’s wine stained lips were pulled into a frown and although he hid it well when he was chatting away with his friends and family, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. he sniffled a few times and you knew why, but you decided to bite your tongue. it was his party and he was an adult who could celebrate whatever way he wanted. it was also clear that neither of you had the energy to argue. instead, to his surprise, you raised an arm and gestured for him to come closer.
  he sidestepped towards you and although you were shorter, let you wrap some of the blanket around him. his cold arm snaked around your waist and you tensed up again at his touch.
  you continued to look out into the skyline. “i was going to say the same for you.”
  “i’m really thankful for the party, love,” he ignored your question and pressed a kiss against your temple.
  you mumbled under your breath, “it wasn’t easy." this was the first time all night that you were comfortable enough to physically touch jungkook and you suspected alcohol played a role in relieving the tension between you two, but it was always going to be easy to fall right back into routine.
  and just like that, you felt a stinging sensation in your eyes. tears welled up and blurred your vision, which only made you turn your head away further from your boyfriend. he caught this immediately, his instincts nothing but natural when it came to you, and pulled you right into his chest. 
  the sound that came out of your mouth sounded nothing like you. the sob was desperate and helpless. it was akin to a toddler who couldn’t do anything by themselves. your voice cracked with each body-shaking sob and you didn’t have the guts to conceal it. your head was buried into jungkook’s new shirt, ruining it, but he only stroked your hair and wrapped the blanket tighter around the two of you.
  “it’s okay. . .” jungkook cooed and for what seemed like the first time in a while, he sounded like himself. 
  it wasn’t like jungkook had undergone a drastic change from his time in america, but it was a gradual shift that you felt over a longer period of time. you attributed to the fact that you were no longer teenagers and things weren’t going to be the same as it did ten, even five years ago. that was what you told yourself, but you weren’t sure why you still held on to the old jungkook you knew.
  in that moment, he sounded like the fifteen year old boy you met in a convenience store again. he sounded like the jungkook who wrote you disgusting love songs that were horrible, but you adored anyway. he sounded like the man who you talked about children and a big house and an annoying dog with. 
  as you found the bravery to finally pull away from jungkook’s comforting embrace, you looked up and saw that future in his eyes. his features softened, but he looked sad. your heart sank once again.
  “you’re not just crying because i’m enlisting, are you?” he finally spoke, just above a whisper. his tone was certain, barely a question - after ten years together, jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.
  you froze. there was nothing else you could do but shut your eyes tight, pretending that this wasn’t really happening.
  after a beat, you found your voice. “listen. . .we both know what happens after a man enlists. look at taehyung and jimin. look at your cousin.” 
  over the years, you and jungkook had gone through hell and back. you thought the worst day of your life was when dispatch leaked the news that you were dating five years ago, but you were able to recover. you thought it was the worst day of your life when your breakup was witnessed by the entire world, but you were able to recover. you even thought the worst day of your life was when word got out that you and jungkook got back together, effectively proving that you were weak and were the type of girl to crawl back to her ex. you recovered then, as well.
  at the second part of your sentence, you felt jungkook physically tense up.
  “is that why you’ve been acting weird lately?” he replied.
  you don’t know where it came from, but something triggered a spark of anger in you. still, with a tear stained face and a runny nose, you opened your eyes and met his. this was not something you would be able to recover from.
  you said, “it hasn’t just been lately, jungkook. you know exactly what’s on my mind, we’ve been talking - “
  “ - and you know what my answer has been, baby. you know what kind of position i’m in,” he interrupted, breaking apart from your hold and the blanket he brought for you.
  he wasn’t wrong. you did know what kind of position he was in. one of the biggest stars in the world and he had everything to lose, especially with the anxieties looming in the air for him and the rest of his group. every one of them were on their toes as soon as their enlistment dates were finalized, fearing their fade from the spotlight. you and the rest of the world knew that it was bullshit, that the bts was going to be forgotten just because they were going into the military for a few years. 
  marriage would surely ruin that further, right?
  you said, “and you know what position i’m in.”
  the careless joys of your early twenties had come and gone, which left you at the mercy of your mother’s constant talks about marriage. not just her, but other family members and even some of your friends. after all, you and jungkook had been together for ten years and you were pushing thirty sooner or later. 
  you also had your own fears in regard to your career. jungkook once laughed when you expressed your worries about the public no longer finding you young and pretty, but it was a real fear. most girl groups didn’t last more than a few years. many of your contemporaries had long said goodbye to their idol persona and went their separate ways from their band for a new life. you were considered a lucky one to remain with your group and maintain relevance, but for how long? was it time for you to finally settle down? you weren’t granted the same longevity as jungkook’s renowned group and you weren’t bitter about it, but nervous.
  snowflakes began to fall once again and as one fell on your eyelashes, you noticed jungkook’s jaw clench. 
  “we’ve talked about this,” he said and you knew your wandering thoughts about a potential proposal were too good to be true.
  you began, “look, i know that things are different for people like us. . “ but, things were changing. in recent years, you watched several of your peers get married and have children without losing their spot in the limelight. 
  “y/n. . .what made you think i changed my mind?” jungkook sighed, pacing back and forth to calm himself down.
  “i just thought. . .”
  “i’m sorry, but i wasn’t going to propose before my enlistment.” this time, jungkook’s frustrations melted away and there was genuine sadness in his voice. 
  he stepped closer to you and put his hands on your waist. you didn’t know what to say. you really had been pretending that his strange behaviour was because of a hope that seemed impossible now. 
  you took a deep breath. “you never said no. you made it seem like you were considering it.”
  that was what silenced jungkook. it was true, there was never an outright refusal from jungkook. he would say things that implied he would talk to his company again or “with time” it would come. he gave you just enough reassurance, but never confirmation. 
  continuing, you said, “and you even indulged in keeping the fantasy alive with me. you’re sick for talking about honeymoon destinations with me and suggesting songs we could dance to.”
  “hey. i’ve said time ands time again that there is no future where you aren’t by my side,” jungkook tried getting you to look at him, but every time he moved, you turned away. 
  there was no reason for you to make eye contact. you felt like a fool and if you met his eyes, you knew you would just burst into tears again. then, you thought about your conversation earlier with your friends and your vision became wet again.
  “were you planning to break up with me before you enlisted?”
  “what? no,” he responded, but you weren’t convinced. 
  you responded, “it was going to be inevitable, wasn’t it? like jimin and taehyung. you were going to be done with me.”
  this time, jungkook forced you to look at him by the chin and your shoulders dropped. there was a crease in between his eyebrows that you don’t remember seeing even just a year ago. he looked more tired than he did as a rookie with barely survivable living standards. 
  “time really goes by, huh?” you murmured, fighting to keep your voice stable.
  “we were never going to break up, love,” jungkook maintained.
  still, his words didn’t penetrate further than surface level. you were left numb and the chill of winter in seoul had nothing to do with it. you wished that someone would just call jungkook away, but the party inside continued on without him. 
  “you bought a ring. i saw it when we video called.”
  jungkook’s lips parted. you knew it. you knew you weren’t losing your mind. over the last ten years, you made some crazy accusations for all kinds of reasons. this time was different and you saw it on his face.
  even after what seemed like forever, jungkook couldn’t find words to say. the longer he waited to speak, the faster your heart began to race. 
  he rubbed his temples and finally, he spoke. jungkook spoke and you immediately dropped the blanket he brought for you, dashing right back inside. you walked past every single attendee and ignored the few that cried out your name. you didn’t care what it looked like. you just knew you had to get out of there.
  jungkook said there was a ring. he began to open his mouth and explain further, especially when he read the horrified expression on your face, but you wanted no part in it. there was no room for you to think about what that meant. you only saw red.
  you weren’t sure why you wanted a proposal so badly. you knew you didn’t care that much about what your mother wanted and getting married was no solution to the prospects of a dying career. you were second guessing if your wishes for a wedding were even genuine. 
  on the other hand, maybe you intended for the wedding to be a solution to a dying relationship. 
LATEST NEWS: hybe dismisses reports that bts’ jungkook and S.IREN’s nova are engaged, seeking legal action against gossip website that went viral for spreading the false rumour
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@butnotmontana @rinkud @kookiescutie @nlr1606 @claireshelby @xtrataerrestrial @whoa-jo @tinyxrose @lavendersugarplum @bangtans-momma @firelcrds @sstrongstyle
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Text
CW: gn reader*, angst, fluff, mentions of divorce, beautiful grovelling committed by none other than Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley because he’s our man 💪
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there is a part 2 in the vault with smut if you guys want it 🫣 (as this story is gender neutral, the daughter can be adopted or surrogated, if you wish to put it that way. but the next part will specify that the reader is afab)* song for the chapter: Leave Me Lonely - Ariana Grande
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husband!Simon, who is gutted but understanding when you say you want a divorce. your relationship had taken a slow but scrutinising turn ever since you had your first kid.
the flame wasn’t there anymore, and you had gone into a depressive state due to the overwhelming pressure of having to take care of your daughter by yourself every time he got deployed to another country, then having to pray he would make it out alive.
ex-husband!Simon, who moves out in a matter of days after the talk, going to a small local motel so you had your space. you are devastated at the loss of warmth on the other side of the bed. although it wouldn’t have been any different if he stayed, as you had both been isolating yourselves for a while.
ex-husband!Simon, who comes around every weeks to check up on you and your child. making sure that everything was okay, which it wasn’t, but you had pulled yourself together to make sure you were there for her.
ex-husband!Simon, who still comes to parent-teacher interviews/conferences, resting a loving hand on your thigh as your daughter’s teacher talks about how much of an amazing student she is.
you expected nothing of it as it could’ve just been a natural instinct from him.
like how he still wore his ring………. every day…
right…………
ex-husband!Simon, who helps out in the kitchen one night, after dropping off your daughter at a sleepover; passing dishes back and forth, making sure to add lingering touches, to see if they were reciprocated, or if he should stop. and you just ignored them for the time being, not wanting to give him the time of day due to the state he left you in.
ex-husband!Simon, who is on your door step the night before the divorce is finalised.
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“I’m not signing the papers.” He stated firmly.
Your brows furrowed at the sight of him on your doorstep this late at night; speechless, you just let out a scoff of surprise.
“What?” You asked him confused, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m not signing the papers,” He repeated, “I want to make this work.”
“You don’t get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Waltz back into my life like it’s nothing,” You answered, “I wanted a divorce for a reason.”
“I’ll be better.” His gaze narrowed, “I’ll prioritise you and our daughter, I didn’t do a good job last time. But now, I’ll be there every step of the way, and support you.”
“I won’t leave you in the dark again. And if you’re lost, I’ll make sure to be the light.”
Your gaze softened as he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his chest.
“Please,” He whispered, “Can we try again?”
And just like that, the walls that you had built up to make sure you didn’t get hurt again, came crashing down.
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inkyray · 2 days
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sick!matt x reader fluff 😛
a/n: i literally love writing a platonic reader n chris dynamic
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content ahead: sick!matt x reader, bae u a master chef in this, just pure cutesy fluff :P
TOO LATE
"You're joking." You say, holding your phone up to your ear as Nick's voice boomed through it. "I swear I'm not, he can't even like– walk on his own." Nick said, almost like he was complaining but he definitely wasn't, if anything he was worried for his brother Matt.
He called you to let you know just how bad Matt's sickness got, based on what he told you, Matt's body temperature was burning hot yet he was still freezing, he was cold and sweaty, his small strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Apparently it was a struggle for him to even head to the bathroom, almost falling over with how weak his body had gotten. "Whatever he's got, it's definitely worse than fever." Nick sighs as you hold your phone with your cheek and shoulder, putting on your shoes.
"I'm coming over, I'm bringing medicine and a few ingredients. I'll make him some soup, hopefully it'll help." You assure, tying your shoelaces. Nick sighs in relief, "Thank fuck. I knew you'd be help. I'm like, so glad Matt came to his senses and asked you to be his girlfriend. If he hadn't done it sooner I would've asked you to marry me by then." You brightly laugh at his words, grabbing for your keys.
"Okay, I'll be over in a few minutes."
-
It was a lot worse than you thought.
The moment you entered his room, it was warm with unnatural heat and he was clearly tangled under all his pillows. You approached the side he was laying in, bending down to his level, your knees on the floor as your hands immediately tangled in his hair, moving it to the side so you could see his eyes better. "Matt." You mutter, your voice low and soft, unsure if he's asleep or not. His eyes flutter open to the sound of your voice, looking up at you lazily, beyond glad that you were here. He utters your name, his voice husky and thick. You immediately lean forward to peck him on the lips. "How are you feeling?" You question
He frowns, as if his sickness has been draining both physically and mentally. "Horrible. So so bad." Matt's eyes look like they were exhausted, rimmed with pink. You scowled, feeling beyond bad for your boyfriend. "Okay, I brought you medicine. Sit up for me, baby?" You ask him, your voice immediately soothing through his migraine like honey.
You turn to the bag you brought, skimming through it as you grab the right antibiotic. Matt takes long seconds to build up the courage to sit up, knowing how much physical energy it would take from him. When you turn your head back to him, he finally uses his elbows to sit up, his blanket slipping from off his chest, a hot breeze hitting you in the face.
A small comforting grin rests on your lips, and Matt curves his lips up lazily and crookedly, his mood feeling the most better at the sight of you. Handing him the pills to his palm, you grab the water bottle by his bed. 
With the pills finding their way to his mouth, you hold the water bottle up to his mouth. He takes large gulps from the bottle, depending on you to hold it for him. He pulls his head away, deciding that was enough for him after swallowing the medicine, visibly wincing, lifting a hand to touch his adam's apple. You understand that he had a bad case of a sore throat, and you get up. Matt's eyes follow you up. "Have you eaten yet?" You question, and he drops his gaze, shaking his head. You sigh.
"I thought as much."
"I'm sorry." He apologized with a harsh and croaky voice. You melt right then and there. "No, no. Matt, hon, it's okay." You offer a breathy chuckle. "I'll cook for you." You soothe your hands through his knotted and messy hair and his face visibly softens. He loved when you'd cook, always preferring it over take-out.
One time, you had caught your boyfriend arguing with his brother, Chris, to have you cook for them instead of just ordering out.
+
"Dude, she's not gonna be able to make chicken alfredo. We don't have the fucking ingredients." Chris sighed, pressing his eyebrows together.
"Chris, trust me. We could just go out and buy them really quick! I swear, it'll be heavenly." Matt jolted his leg up and down, attempting to talk him through it, already tasting his girlfriend's cooking on his tongue.
"It's almost 12:00 AM, Matt! The store is literally closed and she probably doesn't even wanna cook." Chris initiated, grabbing his phone out to order something. Matt rests his head on his palm, leaning against the kitchen island as he watches Chris order, giving up. "Do you think she'll want to tomorrow, though?" Matt wonders out loud.
"I actually hope so. I don't think anyone's made steak the same way she has." Chris responds, not denying the fact that your cooking truly is something else. "Right?" Matt agrees. "One of the best dinners of my life." Chris nods along, secretly hoping you'd be willing to feed them the next day.
+
You tap the large wooden spoon against the pot, letting any remaining liquid fall down the pot. You had decided to make him the classic chicken noodle soup. When Nick was sick, you had made him tomato soup, thankfully he had loved it, even after recovering asking you to make him some more. But you knew if you made that for Matt, it would've been a death wish.
You pour him the soup in a bowl, lifting a normal spoon up to your mouth as you blow the steam away, trying it. Perfect.
Getting the feeling of a lingering body behind, you spin your head around, seeing Chris hold his phone between both his hands like a purse, standing shyly behind you as he eyes the pot. "You good?" You laugh, and he doesn't audibly respond, only giving you an exaggerated sigh. "You want to try?" You finally ask after he gives you another sigh, he smiles immediately. "Yes, puh-lease." He uttered desperately. You take a quick scoop and hold it up, holding a palm under the spoon to keep anything from dripping. He notices your action, taking the spoon from you and mimicking your gesture, holding a hand under it as he brings it to his mouth.
He blows on it, flinching at the hotness of the liquid before finally pulling it in his mouth. A sense of victory pumps through you as you watch his eyes light up. "Can I have a bowl? Please, please, please. I promise I won't ask you for anything else. " He begs and you roll your eyes. 
"Let me feed your brother first, if there's any left, you can take some."
"Ugh." He huffs, migrating to the living room couch, watching on his phone until you're done.
You place the bowl under a plate, stabilizing it as you head for Matt's room.
Pushing through the door, you walk in on Matt in the same position you had left him in, scrolling through his phone before looking up at you when you enter. Closing his phone, he fixates himself on the bed as you approach, sitting on the side of his bed right by where his legs are crossed over each other under the blankets. "You made soup?" He questions before his eyes level with the bowl.
"I had to, it's tradition." You tell him, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of soup. But if you were one thing, it would be willing to get him to like anything. "Okay." He hums, although you hadn't said anything, he trusted your judgement. You hold the spoon up to your mouth and blow at it, trailing it to his mouth.
"It's too hot, baby." He gasps, his lips jolting back from the sudden heat. "I know, but you'll have to drink it down. The whole point of soup when you're sick is to drink it hot." You assure, blowing a little more at it.
"But why?" He murmured, not liking what you were saying. "To burn the germs and to help you sweat, sweating helps you lose your fever quicker." He listens to you explain as you continue a little further, mentally reminding himself that you were also an older sister, this behavior coming to you naturally.
"Mm. Okay."
Grimacing when the hot liquid makes its way into his mouth, his face drops from any stiffness and lets it marinate in his mouth, swallowing it down. "Is there anything you're not good at?" He asks.
"I always burn sugar cookies."
"Oh yeah." Matt recalls. "I thought I was gonna experience a second house fire."
You shut him up with another spoon to his mouth.
-
The hours pass and you've done everything in your will to help Matt, and now that the sun is fully set, you can tell he has gotten the slightest bit better, knowing the change would kick in the next morning. There was no doubt that you were tired, doing the dishes and putting everything away, tidying up the kitchen, the living room, and Matt's bedroom.
It was when he threatened to never recover from this fever until you finally rested when you decided to take a break. You changed into spare pajamas that you keep in Matt's room, he watched you change with an upset look playing. 
"What?" You had asked.
"Wish I wasn't sick. Doing all these things for me, and still looking so beautiful. What a lucky piece of shit I am." He began getting sentimental. "You're too perfect for this world, you know that?" He watches you turn a flustered shade of blossom as you begin crawling into bed next to him.
You lay on your side as Matt raised an arm to drape over your shoulder, pushing you closer to him as you got comfortable, resting his hands on the dip of your waist, his fingers drawing shapes. Seconds pass, and you finally answer. "I don't think you're a piece of shit."
The sound of his hoarse chuckle vibrates through his chest. "You suck at taking compliments."
You lift your head up and he looks down at you, both of you getting the same idea in mind. "Don't." He warns, but you kiss him anyway. You didn't care that he was sick, or if that'll get you sick too. His warm lips pressed onto yours as you smiled in triumph.
"Too late."
part 2 here
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killerlookz · 3 days
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Growing Pains | Spencer Reid
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pairing: s2!spencer reid x gn! reader
description: after spending what felt like an eternity pining over Spencer Reid, the two of you finally began moving towards becoming something... until his run-in with Tobias Hankel seemed to put a stop to every aspect of Spencer's life, even his relationship with you.
details: Spencer's post-revelations related trauma, angst! and fluff (hurt with comfort), sporadic flashbacks
word count: 2,321
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i hate that i can't love you, but I'm just in the way / but you say i won't be here forever, and you'll take as long as it takes
Your cold hands ached as they struggled to make a fist, raising that balled-up hand to the dark, wooded door.
Every day for the last week and a half you'd come to this very door, that of your friend, Spencer Reid. And every day for the last week and a half you would knock on the door and hope with anxious breaths for an answer. Only to receive no response.
Part of you would worry he was dead if it wasn't for the fact that at the very least he had managed to at least call out of work each and every day. It was so typical of Spencer ,it almost made you smile. Even after all of the trauma he had just gone through, he still made sure to call out of work. No one expected to see him back at the BAU for a while. Not after Tobias Hankel.
Despite all too much of it having been live-streamed directly to you and the rest of the BAU, you knew very little of what had actually happened to Spencer in the time he had been taken by Tobias Hankel, nobody did. And the truth is, you barely knew of what was live-streamed. Maybe it made you "weak" in comparison to the rest of the team, but you just couldn't bear to look at Spencer in that state. The anxiety of not knowing whether or not Spencer was going to live was already too much to handle- even now, knowing he was safe, you still had trouble sleeping, the scenario of having not made it in time playing through your mind over and over again.
Knock, knock, knock
You held your breath in anticipation as your hands hit the door, you bit your lip in a painful desperation. Please, Spencer. You beg, your voice cracking as you whisper to yourself.
No response.
It wasn't like Spencer to not talk to you, especially not for days on end. The two of you had been friends since the academy. You were instantly drawn to him, maybe it was his impressive memory, or how passionate he was about his work, maybe it was his awkward boyish charm, or his sweet smile, or how his eyes lit up when he won a game of chess or cards, and the way he scrunched his nose whenever he laughed, maybe it was the way his sweaters never fit just right, and his socks never matched, or-
It was more than sufficient to say that you had fallen head over heels for Spencer, more than you had for anyone else in your life, you were in love. He was kind, and inviting, and you could never understand why everyone else seemed to make fun of him. And finally after what felt like an eternity of pining, and planning for the perfect moment- a french film marathon at Spencer's apartment and a few too many glasses of cheap wine was what let your feelings slip. You could still feel the way your stomach dropped as the words left your tongue,
"You know I love you, Spence"
"Yeah- like- as a friend." He stuttered, obviously caught off guard
You could have saved yourself then, played it cool, and said yes, but before you could stop yourself your head was shaking no.
Spencer's eyes widened and the corners of his mouth curled into a sheepish smile, "Really?" He looks down at his lap, his fingers rapidly tapping against his knee, "I- wow- I-" He shakes his head and looks back at you, "I love you too."
With a few blinks you find yourself back in reality. You could only live in memories for so long. You sighed, as tears welled up in your eyes. Part of you wondered if you were being selfish, crying about how you missed him when he was going through so much worse.
You wiped your stinging eyes, fuck it. You needed to know how he was doing. You reach into the pocket of your coat, feeling around before gripping the cool metal of your key ring. You pull it out of your pocket before gripping the keys that hung from it tightly in your hands. The dull metal pressed into the skin of your hands, and your cold, stiff fingers gripped harder to the point where it hurt. You closed your eyes, wincing as you tightened your fist around the metal even harder, trying to convince yourself to go through with your plan. At some point of you and Spencer "going steady" you had exchanged keys to each other's apartments.
You released the key ring from your grip, a red indent left in the palm of your aching hand. You sift through the various keys and with a loud jingling sound, the other keys fell to the bottom of the ring as you gripped the key to Spencer's apartment between your thumb and index finger. You sigh once more, telling yourself the worst that could happen is if he really doesn't want to see you he will tell you to leave and you will listen.
You push the key into the lock and twist it until you can turn the door handle. The door opens with a creak, and you step into the dark apartment, careful to close the door softly behind you. You can barely see two feet in front of you, all the lights are off and the blinds are drawn. Your hand slides up a wall as you fumble around for a light switch, flicking on the soft, warm wall light next to the door. You blink a few times, getting used to the light before your gaze darts over to the kitchen table. The apartment was almost unrecognizable. It was cluttered to a degree that you had never seen from Spencer before. He was usually so well organized. But now, papers, takeout containers, and half-drunken cups of coffee were scattered around the dark wooden surface.
It broke your heart to see Spencer's living spaces in such disarray, if this is what his apartment looked like, you couldn't even bear to think about what you might find if you were to peek inside his mind. Even with the lights now on, the dark green walls of the apartment never felt this dark to you.
You tread softly toward his bedroom, careful not to make too much noise against the creaky wood of his apartment floor. Part of you was aware of how creepy this seemed- and you worried maybe you'd scare Spencer by entering his room. Still- maybe it was selfish, but you missed him too much to allow another day go by without seeing him. Allowing Spencer to just stay holed up in his apartment for days on end was not going to do anything for anyone.
You press your hand against Spencer's bedroom door, it's opened just a crack and you're able to push the door open with a small creak. The room isn't as dark as the rest of his apartment, a few small beams of light from the setting sun peek into the small room from blinds that haven't been fully closed, drenching it with a warm orange color.
Spener's clothes are scattered throughout the room, and his brown leather bag had been thrown on the ground near the door, papers and books spilling out of it. You could almost guarantee it had been in that spot from the moment he got home from that dreaded case.
Your eyes flick up to the bed in the middle of the room where Spencer lay, his face down, stuffed into the pillows. His comforter had been kicked to the side, and the fitted sheet had come off one of the corners of the mattress.
You wondered just how much Spencer had actually left his bed since he had gotten home, the takeout containers and coffee cups in the dining room signified to you at least he did at some point leave his bedroom. Still, the sorry state of everything made you want to cry. How could anyone do this to him?
You slip off your shoes, and inch across the soft carpet closer to the bed, careful not to step on any of the clothes that were strewn about the floor.
"Spencer," You say, just above a whisper, attempting to let him know of your presence. He barely even stirs in response to the noise, turning onto his side deep in sleep.
As you got closer to the bed you could see him more clearly. His hair was a mess, long curly strands stuck to his cheeks with sweat, his eyes shut tight and his mouth almost turned down into a frown. Even in sleep, he looked so upset, so tortured. It made you sick to your stomach to even think about what he could have been dreaming about.
"Spencer?" You say again, weaker this time- your voice trembling with nerves.
No response.
You sigh, pulling off your jacket and allowing it to collect on the floor with the rest of the scattered clothes. You sit down on the edge of the bed and think carefully about your next move. You don't want to frighten him, but it may be impossible not to not after you basically broke in.
You reach a delicate hand outward and move a couple pieces of Spencer's hair from his cheek. His head moves slightly in response, but you continue to smooth your hand down the rest of the length of his hair. You can tell it's tangled, even without combing your fingers through it. You let your hand fall further, down his neck, resting on his bare back. He's warm to the touch as you rub soft circles on the exposed skin.
"Spencer?" You say again, louder this time leaning your body towards him.
His eyes flick open and he's jolted awake, swatting your arm away as a gasp leaves his mouth.
"H-hey," You grab his arm to prevent him from swinging any further, "It's just me Spence."
He stares at you wide-eyed, pupils dilated with a mix of confusion and fear. His throat rises with a thick swallow and his lip trembles. You begin speaking frantically,
"I-I'm so sorry I didn't mean to fright-"
"W-what are you doing here?" He asks, his voice is weak but there's a pointedness to his question.
"I just- I wanted to make sure you were okay- I haven't heard from you in a while and I was so worried about you I just-" Your brain was going a mile a minute before all of a sudden... your train of thought disappears as you look into Spencer's obviously pained eyes. His eyes blink rapidly as he attempts to hold back tears. The sheets have fallen off of him and his bare chest is shiny with sweat as it rises and falls rapidly. You let go of his arm, letting it drop down beside him. "I'm sorry," You whisper, too saddened at the state of him to continue.
Spencer stares at you for another moment before looking down, a single tear dripping down his pale cheek. Even now, like this he was still beautiful to you. And despite everything you couldn't help but for your heart to fill with love. But as your heart felt with love, the rest of your body overflowed with anxiety as you contemplated what to even do or say next. You stutter,
"D-do you want me to leave-"
"No." Spencer cuts you off. "Stay." He looks back up at you, "Please." His eyes are wet with tears that threaten to escape down his face.
"Of course," You nod, "of course," softer this time.
"Can we lay down?" Spencer asks, twisting his face. You nod fervently, swinging your legs onto the bed. You pat the pillow next to you, beckoning Spencer to lie back down. He does so, slowly, and you follow, your faces inches from each other, heads on the same pillow.
You inch yourself closer to Spencer, heat radiating off of his trembling body. You place a hand upon his cheek, stroking your thumb slowly back and forth.
"Am I ever going to be okay?" Spencer sniffles. The question feels like a knife had been stabbed right through your heart.
"Of course you will, Spence, " You assure, soft yet firm.
"It doesn't feel like it," He shakes his head, forcing your hand to fall from its spot on his cheek.
"These things take time, lots and lots of time."
"Yeah but-" He starts, getting choked up again, "What if you don't want to wait for me?"
"Wait for you?" You ask, confused as to what he meant.
"If I'm like this for too long." He answers, "You won't want to be around anymore."
"Oh Spencer," you shake your head, "No, no" You put your hand back onto his cheek.
"I feel like such a burden- that's why I haven't called," His voice breaks as he starts crying, really crying this time, "I mean- I'm an FBI agent, I should be able to get through this. Everyone else on the team would be back to work in an instant. And I can't even get out of bed."
"Spencer." You cut off his ramblings, "You are not a burden- you could have died, Spencer, no one is expecting you to be alright."
"I feel like I should be." He pauses, "I just don't want everyone to sit around worrying about me, I don't want you to sit around worrying about me. It's not fair."
"I worry because I care." You relay a small smile, "Because I love you."
"And that's what I'm afraid of, one day you'll realize you've spent so much effort worrying about me that you won't want to love me anymore."
"Never." You wipe the tears from Spencer's eyes, trying to give him gentle reassurance. "I'd wait forever for you to be okay."
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a/n: woah long time no post? I haven't posted a fic on here in almost two years! sorry I'm a little rusty, I've been deeeep in a creative rut. I'm accepting requests now however, Ive missed you guys!
356 notes · View notes
gazspookiebear · 2 days
Text
Thinking about waiting for Ghost to be ready for a relationship (kind of continued from this post
(Kinda angsty, self doubt/depreciating thoughts)
When you ask 'What are we?', he panics. He doesn't know. He isn't ready to be a boyfriend, to meet your parents, to open up about his life-
His internal monolog is interrupted by your hand on top of his own. He hadn't realized how anxious he must have appeared- sweaty, hands trembling, shallow breaths, the works. He felt like he was being strangled, and all of this was over a simple question. Why did he ever think he could do this?
You tell him it's okay. You tell him you don't need an answer now if he's not ready. You say that you're fine with the way things are, and if he isn't ready to move forward yet, you'll wait for him.
You tell him you'll always love him regardless.
The world might as well have stopped spinning, because you love him?
He wants to tell you he loves you too, but he's scared. He's still waiting for you to leave. For him to lose feelings. For this to all have been a huge waste of time, or for you to realize you deserve better as soon as he confesses how he really feels.
For a split second, he thinks about leaving. About ghosting you. Maybe even breaking up with you- but that would require him to admit there was something there in the first place. It felt like you had snaked your way around his heart and were squeezing with all your might.
God, he couldn't imagine himself without you. He felt like a fool, naive and childish all over again. Why were you so patient with him? Couldn't you see there was something rotting inside of him?
Once again, he's dragged out of his mind by your presence. You look worried. He can't fathom why you would be worried about him. Nonetheless, he squeezes your hand in return. A simple gesture, but it means the world to you. You know he's trying. You know he's fighting with himself and losing half the battles.
You're determined to win the war.
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simpjaes · 15 hours
Note
heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️
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MDNI.
this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k
tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)
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It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him. 
It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.
Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it. 
Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights. 
Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask. 
You already know. He’s had a bad day.
So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.
And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.
When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you. 
And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him. 
Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s. 
The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker. 
It’s always you who can distract him. 
And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.
Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more. 
Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern. 
Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything. 
And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.
It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more. 
Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?
“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says. 
And, of course, you do. 
“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place. 
“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?” 
You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.
You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe. 
“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”
“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”
You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you. 
It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible. 
He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to. 
So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.
You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears. 
He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him. 
Him, him, him. 
And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible. 
God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him. 
And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way. 
It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget. 
And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits? 
Out of respect, no less. 
“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation. 
Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.
It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back. 
Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl. 
“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now. 
After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for. 
And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs. 
Hah. 
“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”
You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust. 
“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back. 
”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark. 
You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely. 
Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him. 
He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face. 
“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him. 
And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality. 
By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice. 
“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.” 
You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you. 
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justauthoring · 2 days
Text
a promise he'll keep.
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requested! -> also “who did this to you” with astarion would go absolutely bonkers. food for thought requested by! -> @the-sunflower-room
a/n -> thank you for your request! i saw your other one as well and definitely plan on writing it hopefully soon! also! i literally have been in love with this man since the game came out but im so nervous about writing for him i never gained the courage... tho, meeting neil yesterday made it feel like its only write i finally commit and write to him!
tw -> mention of blood, bruises and cuts/violence
pairing -> astarion x f!reader/tav
blood poured from the rather large cut across the side of your forehead, staining your skin and seeping into the tiny cuts littered across your cheek and jaw. bruises lined your neck, in the shape of a hands, and astarion was sure that the rest of your body mimicked the damage across your face.
armour torn, shaking and hurt, astarion's heart burns with a rage he's not felt in a long time.
long ago had he forgotten about the bloodlust of fighting. long ago had he healed from the trauma of his past. years had passed since astarion had first met you and years had passed since the both of you, along with the rest of your companions, healed yourselves from the parasites in your mind and effectively, saved the world.
your bodies had never quite healed though. the trauma of what you'd both experienced had never faded and most likely never would. you'd both accepted that as a fact of your lives and used each other as a means of healing from it.
it had been years since astarion has seen you bloodied and hurt like this, and it feels ten times worse then it ever had before. never a fighter, the second you'd no longer been forced to fight for survival, astarion knows you'd given up that part of your life.
you were strong. there was no doubting that. you could hold yourself and you'd proved that well enough given what you'd done for the world and most importantly, your companions. more than anything, you'd proved that with how you saved astarion from his tormentor and the horror of his past.
but you look so vulnerable in that moment; broken and hurt and bruised and his chest tightens, nails digging into the palms of his hands as the rage coarses through him, burning his veins and has him desperate to make whoever hurt you pay.
painfully.
"who..." and his words hesitate, the fire his chest making it hard to find his words. he doesn't want you to think any of his anger is directed at you... "who did this to you?"
you twitch at his words, arms coming around to hold yourself as you shiver, hesitating.
astarion's face falls.
taking a step towards you, he reaches out for you, hands moving to cup your cheeks, gently and wary of your wounds. he worries you'll pull away, given how afraid you are, but you know astarion and recognize his touch and some of the rage fades with concern and love for you as you lean into his touch.
his fingers work to brush the blood from your face, get rid of the dirt and grime that clings to your skin and tries to soothe you.
your eyes flutter shut in response.
"i'm sorry," astarion whispers. "i'm sorry, i don't mean to scare you."
you shake your head, humming in disagreement. "you didn't scare me."
astarion hates the way your voice trembles.
"i don't want you getting hurt for me," you explain. "you don't deserve that."
and astarion shakes his head. "it doesn't matter if it's you." he assures and he frowns when he realizes he might've not made that clear enough. he had a lot to make up for if you think that he wouldn't do anything for you. "i can't let them get away with hurting you like this."
"i'm okay," you try to deny.
astarion just tightens his grip on you, not enough to hurt you, of course, but enough to pull your attention on him. "you're not," he argues, desperate for you to understand how much it pains him to see you hurt like this. "you're bleeding, y/n. and fuck... you're hurt, badly. it breaks my heart to see you like this."
your eyes fall on him at that. wide eyes meeting his own as your lips part, as if shocked by his admission. maybe shocked wasn't the word—he likes to think the expression on your face is one of reassurance at how much his heart burns with love for you.
the tears that you'd been holding back fall then, your bravety and strength fading at astarion's warming and soothing words. they build at the corner of your eyes and astarion is quick to brush them away.
"i'll never let them hurt you again," he promises then, meaning every word of what he says. he says them with confidence, desperation and sincerity, eyes softening with a plea as he holds onto you, afraid you might slip from his very fingers. "them or anyone else."
your hand grabs his, squeezing.
"i know," you whisper, "this isn't your fault."
he just shakes his head; "it's whoever did this to you's fault," he assures, although the twinge of guilt that festers in his belly is undeniable. he should've been there with you, keeping you safe; even if you knew you were capable of keeping yourself safe... having him there would've assured him and would've stopped this from ever happening.
"y/n," he calls again, voice soft, measured and even as he stares into your eyes and doesn't let you pull away. "who did this to you?"
and your lips part, breathing shakily but there's an ease that washes across your expression and then the names of the men who hurt you come pouring from your lips.
astarion memorizies them, keeps them trapped in his mind as he nods. "thank you." and he is thankful. thankful that you trust him to do what he'd promised. thankful that you know he won't fail you.
"i'll make it better, okay?" he whispers, his thumb stroking across your cheek as he pulls you into his arms, a hand falling on the back of your neck to press you into his chest. "i promise."
you hum your response, leaning into his touch before letting him guide towards your home so he can dress and clean your wounds.
and most importanly, shower you in the love you deserve.
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wolfish-trickster · 3 days
Text
You made your choice
Gojo x fem!reader
Part 2
Previous part
Word count: 2.4K
Summary: you asked Gojo who is more important to him, you or his bestfriend. He indirectly chose and now he's experiencing consequences of his own action (probably for the first time in his life).
Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort
Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @nanao4k
A/N: I recomend listening to this song while reading (was listening to it while coming up with the story, the song and the story aren't exact copies of eachother but the vibe is about the same) and to those who know me THE LINK IS SAFE TO CLICK I DIDN'T LINK IT WITH WHAT YOU THINK I SWEAR. Enjoy the reading 😊
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"Hey, can I come over?"
"Dude, you were just here!"
"I know, I know. But I need a shoulder to cry on."
"Damn, that bad? What happened? You and Y/N had a fight or...?"
"Can I just come over?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll leave the door unlocked."
Geto Suguru has had a lot of weird moments with his best friend, but that phone call certainly was...something. No explanation, no joking around, just straight to the point.
About fifteen minutes later he heard his front door open.
"Satoru, did you learn how to teleport or something? We live an hour away from eachother," Geto joked before he could even turn around and see the state his friend was in. Disheveled hair, dry lips, red eyes. Something terrible must've happened.
"It's Y/N," was all Gojo said before he sat down at the dining table.
"Figured that much," replied Geto and took a seat next to him and waited. He knew Gojo. That man can't shut his mouth to save his own life. He'll spill everything sooner or later.
Gojo let his head fall on top of Geto's and sighed. Geto patted his fluffy white hair and kept on waiting. Good thing was they both sat right across a big window. Geto could count pine cones on the nearby trees while he waited for Gojo to open up.
It didn't take long.
"Y/N left."
"WHAT?!" Geto pushed the white head off of his shoulder and took Gojo by the shoulders. "What happened? What did you do?" He stared him in the eye.
Gojo just blinked. "I don't know! I don't think I did anything wrong," he looked oit the window again. A squirell jumped from one branch to another.
Geto rolled his eyes and turned Gojo's face back to his. "Satoru, people don't just up and leave. You must've done or said something that hurt her feelings. What did I tell you about comunication being-"
"Being the cornerstone of a good relationship, I remember," he put his hands on Geto's cupping his face. "We did talk. And I thought we came to a mutual understanding. Then I offered to cuddle with her and went to shower but once I walked out she was gone. All her things too..."
"Wow," Geto let go of his friend's face, "what a bitch."
"Right?" Gojo agreed and leaned back on his chair so far it was threatening to fall. "I don't understand. She never complained before, never said anything, then all of a sudden she pulls a stunt like that, throws a scene, slips into her selfhating thing again-"
"Wait, she what?" Geto asked confused. He has met you enough times to know you were very cheerful and life-loving person. What was Gojo talking about? Selfhatred?
"She has these moments,"he explained, "thinks she's too fat, then not curvy enough, thinks she's too basic to be with a guy like me, so on. When it happened the first few times i comforted her but even after all those years she still thinks of herself as less than and I'm too damn tired of it. I thought all of those negative thoughts would go away the first time I assured her I love her no matter what," he crossed his arms on his chest and looked out the window again. "I'm starting to feel like she's doing it for attention."
"Listen Satoru, maybe she's just extremely selfconscious and people like her need reassurance like that. Besides if she was really doing that for attention she wouldn't leave withoit a word. She would leave hints for you to find her and come beg her on your knees or something."
Gojo chuckled. "Suguru, you've got to stop watching Shoko's telenovelas."
"I'm a slut for drama."
A phone rang.
In a speed of light Gojo pulled out his phone hoping to see your lovely face. The screen was black.
Geto pulled out his ringing phone and picked up. "Well well, speak of the devil," he smiled.
Gojo couldn't hear what him and Shoko were talking about. He could only take hints from Geto's facial expressions and his occasional answers.
"What do you mean you have to cancel it? Oh. Okay. I understand. And did she tell you what-" his eyes got wide. "But wait, that's not- I didn't- Actually he's right next to me."
Gojo tried to get closer to hear what they were talking about but Geto jumped up and walked across the room.
"Okay. Okay, i'll ask him. No, that's fine. Alright. Take care, both of you. Bye," he hung up. Then slowly turned around to face Gojo now standing opposite him.
"Now you'll tell me exactly what had happened between you two. You said she caused a scene, what was it about?"
His mouth turned into neutral line, just like when you started this whole mess. "She asked me to stop seeing you. Can you believe that? Trust me, if I told her to stop seeing her friends all hell would break lose."
"Isn't that what happened when she asked you?" Geto pointed out the obvious double standard but Gojo wasn't listening.
"Didn't you hear what I just said? She wanted me to spend more time with her. Like, what does she want me to do? Make me and her morph into one being?"
"It is true that you've been spending a lot of time with me," Geto held his chin between his fingers in a thought. "But I don't get one thing. If you being away from her this often was a problem for her then she must've shown signs, not encourage you to come and spend time with me when she was too busy herself."
"About that," Gojo nervously played with his shades. "I might've over-exagarated that."
"Don't tell me..." Geto pinched the bridge of his nose.
"She wasn't always busy when I came here."
"Satoru!" He half shouted. "You always told me she was too busy and couldn't come! Why would you lie?"
"Because i felt trapped!" He yelled back. "I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Yes, being around has brought me so much joy but I missed the thrill of being free. Just being with you and Shoko and doing whatever. Now I just feel like I'm chained to something that I kinda want away from but also not," the entire time he spoke he was pacing back and forth. "I just wanted to feel like the old times."
"So in other words you miss the feeling of being single but you also like the benefits relationship gives you," Geto concluded. "I thought you were better than this."
"And I thought you would understand," Gojo turned his anger against his best friend who was calmly standing in the living room. "But wait, I forgot, you have no one," he mocked.
"Damn right I don't. Which makes me even more pissed off when I see how you treat your own relationship! Have you got any idea how much I envied you for having someone waiting for you at home and welcome you after a long day? Or just someone to be there for you in general?"
Gojo got silent. He didn't know. Geto never showed it.
Geto took it as his chance to try speak some sense into Gojo. "Listen, you only feel like this because you've never been in a relationship. Feeling trapped is normal, I think. What's important is that you love her and you're capable of changing to get her back, right?"
Gojo was just looking at him.
"Right?" Geto said a bit more panicked.
"I don't know!" Gojo exclaimed and Geto facepalmed. "I don't know how to choose between her and you."
"Is that what she asked? For you to choose between her and me?"
Gojo shook his head. "No, I think she just wanted me to spend less time with you."
"So she didn't out right prohibit you from hanging out with me, she only asked for you to stay with her more often," Geto was slowly but surely getting the whole picture.
"Something like that," Gojo shrugged.
Geto sighed. "You royally fucked up Gojo Satoru."
"No, really?" sarcasm dripped from his words. "I still think I did nothing wrong. She has no right to aks me to spend less time with you."
"She does actually. She's your girlfriend of what, three years?"
Gojo nodded.
"Three years and yet you place her beneath a best friend. How would you feel like if she had to choose between her best friend and you and she went for the friend?"
Suddenly, Gojo looked like it finally hit him. "I'd feel...terrible," he sat down on the chair. "But... but I didn't tell her I would choose you. Both of you mean so much to me."
"On the same level or a different one? Satoru, understand that the love for a friend and a love for a lover are two separate kinds of love. You not being able to distinguish between them caused you to be in this mess."
Geto walked over to where Gojo sat and towere over him. He put a reassuring hand on his wide back. "Let me ask you this: what do you want right now? To be with her?"
Gojo stayed silent. He didn' know what he wanted. He hated the fact that he can't have both a friend and a lover. Choosing one would mean losing the other in Gojo's eyes. He can't afford that. Not when both of his most treasured people made him so happy.
Geto took his silence as a no. "You know what I think? You didn't want to have her. You just wanted others to see you have her."
His words cut like a knife. Why? Why do his loved ones have to be this cruel? He only looked up from the floor to his best friends almost black eyes. His own baby blues were watery. A lump took place in his throat. With a horror he realised how weak he feels. One half of him already packed her things and walked away, he can't let the other half do the same.
"Do you hate me now?" He whispered, affraid if he will speak any louder he would cry.
Geto took a while. Then shook his head. "No Satoru, just dissapointed."
Gojo nodded and looked back down to the floor.
Few minutes passed. None of them said anything. After Gojo was completely sure he won't fall apart he spoke up. "Do you think I can fix this?"
"Hmm," Geto hummed and pulled out a chair to sit opposite him. "Fixing means returning to its original state. I don't think things will go back to normal."
"But, I don't want to lose her. I know I don't!"
"Then you must set your priorities straight."
"But-" Gojo looked into Geto's eyes again. "That would mean I will loose you and that's equally as bad."
Geto shook his head. "You won't loose me. I'll still be here. You can still come over and we can still hang out. It just won't be like before."
"And that's what I don't want," Gojo mumbled and crossed his arms again while leaning into the backrest.
"Truthfully, if I had a girlfriend as amazing as Y/N I would spend a lot of time with her and not you."
Gojo swore he could feel his heart crack. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, "that it's only natural to pick your lover over your friends. Not always, of course, but often enough."
Geto lifted his head to see his friend pale as a ghost, his skintone could now rival with his hair. He immediatelly regreted what he said. "But as I said, even if that was the case, even if you chose her as your top priority, which you should've as a good boyfriend, then it wouldn't mean I would cease to exist. And if I get someone in the future and I do the same you won't cease to exist to me either. You are my best friend, Satoru," he placed a hand on Gojo's shoulder, "and no girl will ever change that."
Gojo's ocean blue eyes let some tears slipped. He realized that his best friend is right, as always. Geto will always be there. And sure, even after he gets busy in his own life and won't have time for Gojo and his antics anymore, that wouldn't mean they would change into strangers to one another.
Gojo quickly wiped his tears and nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want tk fix this. I want to evolve this. I want her back. I want to learn to love her again. Properly this time."
"You sure about that?"
Gojo nodded.
"Even after she won't forgive you?"
"Why wouldn't she? She's smart. She will understand. Besides, how can you rehect the best man in the world?" He forced out a chuckle.
Geto shook his head. "Arrogant and full of yourself as always."
"Yeah, what can you do..."
Geto's phone buzzed again. But this time nkt from a phone call but a message. Geto took out his phone, gave it a short glance and put it back into his pocket.
"Was it Shoko?"
Geto shook his head. "Just my reminder. Me and Shoko planned to go see a movie."
"Oh, is that what you talked about canceling?"
Geto nodded. "Y/N knocked on her door and asked to stay a few days. From what Shoko told me she was a mess."
Gojo slumped forward on his chair and hid his face in his hands. "I never wanted any of this to happen."
Geto hummed. "Do you know what this is callled? Consequences. Hurts, doesn't it?"
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somerandomdudelmao · 3 days
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Have to say I'm loving Marble Sky. It's clear you put a lot of thought into the story and I'm excited to see where it's going.
Figured I'd weigh into the Oscar commentary going on and I think honestly the shirt he was wearing in the flashback when Ward was talking about how he ended up in space might say a lot about his character as a whole.
If you don't look at the shirt closely it says "the earth is fla-" and naturally people will fill in the missing 't'. A shirt that seems to support flat earthers is particularly tone deaf given he'd just walked into a building dedicated to science and specifically space. It's the sort of thing people would instantly react to and think lesser of Oscar for. Much like the fact that he comes from a rich family. Or the fact that he seems to embrace the world with puppy like enthusiasm. It creates an image of someone who is ignorant, who doesn't pay attention, and is careless to the point of being arrogant about it.
However looking closely that's not what the shirt says. it's just the text for the rest of it is small, harder to read and purposefully arranged so its divorced from the rest of the larger letters.
And I find that fascinating.
So reading the shirt properly it says "the earth is FLA-bergasting". This message I think has a lot of layers especially combined with Oscar's established fascination with aliens, biology and stuff that we have seen with him previously. It's a message that celebrates the world and all life in it. It's a message that acknowledges that understanding that world is impossible but compelling none the less. It's a message that says the earth is confusing and hard to understand and Oscar is not pretending to know everything about it. Some of this might be just my interpretation of the message so take that with a grain of salt. Still the difference between the first and second is interesting because in the first its a person asserting they know something as complete truth while the second basically admits they don't know anything at all.
Now apply this to Oscar. We're presented with a chaotic lovable doofus who is brimming with childlike wonder at the start of the story. We're presented with a "rich kid" who got into space because his parents paid for it. We're presented with a guy who seems okay with the slaughter of others in order to protect himself. A lot of people are looking at Oscar and seeing "the earth is Fla(t)"
However we've barely scratched the surface of this story or this character not to mention the situation as a whole. So I'm staring at the smaller hidden letters (metaphorically) and wondering exactly what is actually going on with this guy. Because I'm pretty sure "the earth is Fla-bergasting" and so is Oscar.
Thank you for indulging this long ask. I felt like ranting because I love Oscar and this story.
There are three things in this world I can look at forever. How fire burns, how water flows, and how someone carefully analyzes a character in whom I have invested a lot of time and effort.
Holy shit this is incredibly interesting and oh my fucking god you wrote the entire essay?? your brain?? is powerful??rjfkgi
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kingkaizen · 2 days
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𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻
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∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3
∘ ft: nanami & gojo
∘ word count: 2.7k
∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk
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Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.
No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.
But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.
When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”
“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.
“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.
“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”
Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind. 
“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.
“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”
Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?
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“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.
“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.
“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.
That look never came.
“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.
“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”
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The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”. 
“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.
“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.
“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.
“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”
You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.
“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.
“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.
“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip. 
“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.
“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.
“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?” 
No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”
Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are. 
“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight. 
“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”
“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”
“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.
“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”
“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.
You fucking loved it.
You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.
“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.
Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.
“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.
“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.
“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.
“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.
“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.
“Not unless you beg for it.”
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