Hate, in Every Sense of the Word.
By: J
major tws for; suicide mention, domestic abuse, abuse, sexual assult mention, murder mention, (really just alot of violence tbh) self harm mention
uh, sorry? that theres so many tws, ig also minor tw for mention of sex too.
uh haha i uh, can you tell what happened tonight? it wasnt even the worst one, just, im tired of it.
talk abt living out of spite bc mannnn, thats all i been going off of for a good while now!
i uh, i really wanna make a certain food bc um. (LOOK I WANNA MAKW A LESS OILY FUCKER OKAY) but my father is awake meaning my mother will be too soon but im scared to even go out of my room bc theyre prob gonna fighttt.
hhhrbd okok ill shut up for now, go ahead and read the angry jirou bullshit ig 😭
(oh yea, if it wasn’t obvious. im talking about my mother in this.)
——————————
yknow,
you havent been a great person
or a good one even.
yet you still question as to why i dont love you
or like you,
maybe you have an idea of how much i hate you.
maybe not
i dont really care about your feelings.
at all.
not now.
i put up with this for fucking 14 years.
my entire fucking life.
ive put up with your shit.
but now?
now im done.
you have no idea how badly you fucked up.
when he said that “im sorry im a fuck up”
yknow.
he mightve not been right for what he did.
but,
it was just a mistake.
it was a goddamn mistake.
you have any idea how many times ive uttered those words too?
how many times ive repeated them?
how many times i fucking meant it?
just because you “had it bad” doesnt mean shit to me.
you have no goddamn right to treat others the same way.
dont give me that “i dont know how else to act!”
bullshit.
bullshit you dont.
you treated your damn boyfriend just fine!
you had a goddamn kid
you had two goddamn children.
with this man that you fucking DESPISE.
you knew it back then too.
you told me you did.
you fucking told me.
almost nothing can compare to the anger i feel to you right now.
nothing.
you have no right to act like that.
no.
you have no goddamn right to hit another fucking living being.
for such a simple mistake.
i dont care if he talked about it since friday.
i dont give a fuck if he talked about it for months.
you.
you as a goddamn human.
have no right.
none.
in the slighest.
to hit another living being.
for talking about something in your eyes “too much”
or making a mistake.
youre a hypocrite.
need i remind you?
you said that after you broke up with the man you were having an affair with.
that youd be a better person.
stop the fights.
stop the beatings.
stop all of it.
and everything would be okay!
.
i didn’t believe you for a goddamn millisecond.
youre a liar.
just how you said i was.
you didnt quit.
you didnt stop.
hell two months after you hit him again!
you threatened to kill him and yourself!
cmon.
dont you get it yet?
i fucking despise you.
maybe to a degree i feel shocked.
but.
i really dont think thats it.
youre the root of my problems.
every single last fucking one.
——————
need i remind you as how i had to learn to cook, because you were too busy with your damn boyfriend to help me?
.
need i remind you how when i tried to show you that i was fucking cutting myself when i was 9 you only talked about how it looked ugly?
.
need i remind you about how many times you said that you didnt care if i hurt myself as long as no one can see it?
.
need i remind you about how you ignored the rope burn on my neck god knows how many times?
.
need i remind you how you denied fucking multiple peoples sexual assault because “it couldntve been like that”?
.
need i remind you of how many times i almost had to be hospitalized because of your neglect?
.
need i remind you of how many nights i spent alone, in the cold, in the dead of winter, just because you wanted to fuck your boyfriend?
.
need i remind you of what you yelled at me so many times?
.
need i remind you of what i seen?
.
need i remind you of how many times you blamed your abusive behaviors on medication?
.
need i fucking remind you of my entire purpose?
.
i dont care about your feelings anymore.
i gave up years ago.
but now.
i dont feel just numb for you.
i hate you.
in every sense of the word.
.
i dont care of what you or anyone else thinks of me.
.
i dont care about what you think of my appearance.
.
i dont care if you think im too thin or fat or whatever word youll use next.
.
i dont care about what you think because you’ll hate me no matter what.
.
you thought id stop being xxxx when you broke up with him.
you yelled at me.
no.
you fucking screamed at me for weeks.
im tired of even putting in the slighest effort of acting as if i fucking care.
i dont give a fuck about you.
and yknow?
if.
no.
if it would work.
if it was possible.
id fucking kill you.
id stab you.
right here.
right now.
to end my suffering.
to end his suffering.
all of it.
id end it all.
i dont care if its wrong.
because i know no one else knows about whats going on.
yknow.
only one person around here knows what youve done to him and me.
and i havent even met her in person.
yknow.
the people i used to be close with from school.
only just learned you had an affair.
i know that.
the police are do-less.
since you know them.
and hes a man.
not a woman.
it wouldnt be taken seriously.
that he should just fight back.
yknow.
youve ruined what life he has left.
his parents beat him.
his ex wife beat him, and cheated on him.
and here.
youve done the exact same thing.
yknow.
he’ll never get to see how love truely is.
because of you.
because of what youve done.
i cant say i really like him either.
but.
that doesnt give you the right to ruin his life.
.
yknow whats worse?
how i know the only reason that so far youve never dared to lay a finger on me.
is because ive proved that i won’t hesitate to beat the fuck out of you right back.
i know i joke about that night.
but.
really.
hitting you for doing that was the best decision i couldve made.
its kept me safer than i wouldve been for years.
and even now.
if you were to as so much to touch me.
while in a fight.
id do it all over again.
you maybe 100 pounds heavier than me.
but you dont know how to fight against someone who wont just sit there and take it.
i wont forgive you for what youve done.
even if he will.
.
i want nothing to do with you.
get out of my life for good.
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tokyo revengers ⇢ YOU’RE TOO DRUNK TO RECOGNIZE YOUR BOYFRIEND
ft. manjiro “mikey” sano, ken “draken” ryuguji, keisuke baji, takashi mitsuya, rindou haitani, ran haitani & shuji hanma
warnings: alcohol and a very hammered reader. the boys are more responsible than you <3
this is one of the rare occurrences wherein MIKEY actually shares his food. when you’ve finally given up on fighting him for the last bottle of alcohol, you start whining about your sudden hunger so he slides his plate of nachos over to you. he watches you eye it for a second before you drag your gaze up to him. “i have a boyfriend you know?” you tell him, your attempt to be menacing coming out pathetically as the attitude dripping from your tone is dampened by your slurred speech. mikey doesn’t need the club to be well lit. the strobe lights already illuminate your face enough for him to get a clear view of your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. “i know,” he confirms with a tinge of exasperation, “because it’s me. mikey. your boyfriend.” he emphasizes his last words, his last effort to knock some sense into you but you only let out a cackle which catches him off guard. “nice try but mikey never shares his food.”
“that’s enough.” DRAKEN snatches the last of your many drinks for the night before you can gulp it down. being the perceptive boyfriend he is, he can already hear the complaint that’s about to slip from your tongue so he’s quick to pull you by the wrist, up from your seat and out the door. “where are you taking me?” you ask as clearly as your drunken state can let you—not so much but enough for your boyfriend to understand. “home.” at his curt reply, you yank your hand from his grip with a strength that startles even toman’s former vice president. “what the hell are you doing?” draken hisses lest you make a scene in public. “i’m calling my boyfriend,” you warn him, “bet he can kick your ass.” “yeah? i’d like to see him try.” he dismisses your empty threat, reaching for you once more to guide you to the exit but upon hearing a few whispers from prying strangers who are clearly getting the wrong idea, he stops in his tracks and turns to no one in particular, no longer caring about whatever commotion he may cause as his voice booms over the loud music: “i’m the boyfriend!”
“let me go!” you relentlessly thrash around, yelling out threats of calling your boyfriend, while BAJI—the boyfriend in question—pulls you into an empty alleyway to avoid any possible public humiliation for the both of you. “fuck,” he huffs out a breath, “when did you get this strong?” some time in the night, he’s tuned you out telling him off, on a sole mission to stop you from drinking more than you already have. and he’s relieved he managed to get you out of the bar—that is until he hears a weird noise coming from you. “wh-” baji doesn’t get the chance to utter a single word as you begin to throw up. in a panic, he hastily puts your hair up with his spare tie before rubbing soothing circles on your back. your hair looks real messy, he notes, but that’s the least of his worries. “you feeling better?” he checks on you after a while, only to be met by more retching, making him grumble to himself, “and i get an earful when i drink too much.”
MITSUYA is helping you get on your feet—sweet boyfriend he is—but as soon as you find your footing, you give him a hefty shove. “i have a boyfriend, jackass!” you seethe, too drunk to recognize him, and all he can do is sigh as he regains his balance. “yes. me.” something clicks in your brain at his response and you squint your eyes to get a better look at him. “takashi?” “hi, love.” and just like that, you perk up, your mouth stretching into a wide grin. “taka,” you squeal, excitement coursing through your veins when you recognize your boyfriend, “hiiiii~” he laughs at the shift in your tone and takes the opportunity to slide an arm around your waist once more. “let’s get you home okay?” “mhm.” you wrap your arms around him and he lifts you with ease. mitsuya assumes you’re fast asleep until a few minutes later, you mumble something against his skin, “someone tried to flirt with me but i said no.” a chuckle bubbles past his lips as he adjusts his hold on you. “really?” “mhm,” you nod into his neck as you snuggle closer, “i only love you.” “i love you more.” “love you most,” you reply before soft snores fall from your lips and your breathing evens out.
you’re rambling about RINDOU to rindou himself, going on and on about the reasons that made you fall in love with him. and while you’re occasionally interrupted by your hiccups, he patiently listens to your every word then he hears a “but.” the ways you describe him next are less flattering, less romantic—how he tries so hard to act indifferent to your cooing as if the tips of his ears don’t instantly turn red. or how he has a permanent scowl etched on his face. and other things you already tell him even when you’re sober. “he’s really lucky he doesn’t have any wrinkles yet,” you add with a giggle. “you’re really annoying when you’re drunk, you know that?” rindou deadpans. despite the lack of lighting in the club, he doesn’t miss the shock washing over you, your eyes getting mistier by the second. “what?” your voice comes out shaky and your bottom lip starts to wobble, making rindou release another groan. “for fuck’s sake.”
in spite of your insistence to stay at the club, RAN easily managed to drag you to his car. this isn’t his first rodeo. as an older brother, he has had to deal with rindou when he was blackout drunk. “where are we going?” you mumble as you begin to stir in the passenger seat. “home.” “i wanna see ran.” your boyfriend throws you a quick glance—your eyes remain closed and the rest of your words are incomprehensible—before he focuses back on the road. amused by your drunken state, he plays along. “alright, we’re going to ran.” the stretch of silence that follows is cut short when you speak again, “i’m thirsty.” so ran makes a quick stop at a convenience store, coming back shortly with a bottle in hand. he unscrews the cap before he gives you the drink, “careful.” you take a big gulp, instantly grimacing at the taste and it elicits a snort from your boyfriend. “what is this?” “water.”
“want more,” you slur. across from you, HANMA watches as you clumsily reach for the empty shot glasses on the table, flipping them upside down as if more alcohol will magically appear. he’s not going to lie—he finds it funny. entertaining, even. and if the circumstances were any different, he would’ve even encouraged this behavior. but he’s your boyfriend now and if there’s one thing he truly cares about, it’s you. drunk out of your wits, you don’t notice when hanma slides out of the booth until he’s soon presenting two more glasses to you. even though the contents are the same, he asks you to choose, “which one?” “hmm… that.” before you can get your hands on your drink, hanma intercepts and downs it in one go. you’re about to protest when he throws you over his shoulder and chugs the other drink out of your sight before heading for the exit. “let’s go.”
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criminally hot | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - you get wrongfully accused by a sheriff, and it isn’t you who’s angriest. it’s your boyfriend who has to expose your relationship in order to clear you.
genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, angry reid x calm reader
wc - 1.2k
warnings - reader uses she/her pronouns, handcuffs, violence, a weird white man i know id be fucking scared as well, oh swearing as well.
a/n - i love u you’re so awkward i am doing so well bc of ur request, keep requesting things your brain is crazy. ummm anyways this is my first time writing this kinda thing omg how exciting okay start reading it wtf you still doing here?
request - ( from @babyoureahauntedhouse ) omg hii!!! :3 this is my first time requesting, so please excuse the awkwardness 😭😭😭😭 first of all, how are you????? i hope you’re doing amazing!!! absolutely no pressure, but can you do one where reader gets falsely arrested (not a huge thing, maybe in a police station at a small town or something) and spencer absolutely **loses** his shit at how she’s being treated????? like, she’s freezing and the sheriff or somethjng keeps pushing her and then he just bursts into the interrogation room and uncuffs her and it’s just very fluffy???? thank you!
Emily handed you your coffee with a smile, receiving a small thank you in return. It was warm in your hands and created a comforting contrast to the cool chill of the police precinct you were set up in.
Things were going well given that you’d only been in the small town for half a day. The team debriefed on the plane, but Aaron had been on the phone with the leading detective for at least an hour now asking him where he was.
Emily headed off to the restrooms when a slender hand made its way to your waist. You turned and felt your cheeks heat, knowing exactly who is was.
“Hi Spencer.”
“Hi Y/n.” His eyes held sweetness in the chocolate swirls, and you felt like a kid who had been given candy. Spencer and you had been dating for a few months, but somehow in a team of profilers you both kept things under wraps, even with Spencer’s clumsy touches and your lingering stares. “I wish we were home,” he whispered.
You glanced around for anyone who could witness your interaction and get suspicious, but you were mostly alone other than Hotch and some officers who were weirdly taking a lot of attention to you.
“Yeah me too. I’m feeling oddly popular and not in the good way.”
Before you could talk more or offer him a sip of your coffee (even if you know he doesn’t like it), Aaron calls his name and the slim tall boy scurries away with a straight face.
You turn to find something to do. To reread a case, to help someone fill out papers, to talk to Morgan or Garcia. You would’ve opted to huddling in your cardigan if a tall man didn’t interrupt.
“Y/n L/n?” He asked in monotone. His arms were at his sides, one hovering above a pair of cuffs that hung from his police belt. Furrowing your eyebrows you answered,
“Yes? What’s wrong?”
“You’re under arrest for the robberies of…”
His voice pounded into the background of your head, thoughts attacking your eyes through a sudden headache as the words registered before you could help it. The room was silent except for the man’s voice, yet all you could hear was the furrow of eyebrows and quick approach of your boss, Aaron Hotchner.
“What’s going on here?”
“Your agent has been seen…”
You stood still as another officer came behind you and forced handcuffs onto your arms, gripping your wrists with unnecessary force that would surely leave bruises. You winced and looked between your boss and the officer, and then at Spencer, who was being pulled back by Morgan. He yelled your name in worry, witnessing the hardened grips on your body and rough pushing you were being subject to. Your coffee splattered on the ground, staining your white shoes.
There was only mumbles and white noise, as your eyes met with Spencer’s. The large officer behind you kicked your leg to get you moving, the shock glueing your shoes to the rubbery floor. And you almost didn’t even notice the hand on the back of your neck pushing you towards a dark room with a desk and two chairs.
You were so familiar with these rooms and yet it felt so different.
Of course, you didn’t actually do anything. And of course you attempt to clear that up to the officers who are slamming their hands on the table and screaming as much as they could, in a poor attempt to intimidate you.
Aaron was in the corner with a scolding face and hard hand to his chin, observing the situation with an intensity you barely ever see.
“Last month, you were seen at one of the houses that got robbed over night. You left a few days later, after also being seen at two of the other houses-“
“So she was seen at three of the ten houses robbed and you arrest her?” Aaron spoke up, bringing the men’s attention to your boss instead of you. You took the opportunity to look outside of the window.
Though it wasn’t clear, you could make out the outline of a tall boy you wished would just break into the room and save you.
And he did.
“Your evidence is illogical and childish. She’s an FBI agent for gods sake-“
“Anybody can be a suspect Agent Hotchner, even federal agents.” The tall one replied with a stubborn mumbled.
Suddenly, the door was slammed open and you were met with a disheveled Spencer panting with a red and severe face. He didn’t even bother looking at you before he starting schooling the men in blue, who at that point were glaring at him and attempting to look more intimidating than they actually were.
“I’ve read your files on this case and nothing links to Y/n L/n, not one-“
“There’s no way you read our-“
“I can read more in a minute than you can in a day, dickhead. Y/n was meeting old school friends when she was in town, we went to the Diner Inn afterwards and we met with her parents who have receipts for the meals because they’re-“ he turned his glance at you,” “sorry Y/n- they’re hoarders. You have nothing against her other than some positively reported visits and some photos of her hugging the house owners.” Spencer had slowly pinned the officers to the opposite wall unconsciously. It was hot. “I was there, I’m her receipt. And like her parents, she loves keeping those. So if you want to insist she’s your culprit, go for it. But your going against a man with eidetic memory and a lot of evidence.”
And while he was logical and correct, he was also a little too truthful.
The officers blinked in fear. Spencer definitely didn’t seem the type to yell or swear, so this clear, concise and undermining approach to the situation was somehow even scarier.
“Spencer,” you began, “thank you.”
He looked at you, his expression softening into empathy and care, “Of course.” His hands found a key in his back pocket as he approached you, starting to promptly uncuff you.
As Aaron continued to speak with the officers of their major mistake, Spencer took you outside of the room and into a private office. Your heart was racing, but it seemed Spencer was more stressed than you. He paced as you leaned onto the front of a wooden desk, hands over your chest as your eyes trailed Spencer.
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I should’ve reacted faster, then you wouldn’t have been..” He stopped closely in front of you, his breath hot on yours as his gaze scoured over your body for injuries or bruises. “Are you okay?”
You smile calmly, “I’m fine. My leg hurts, and I think my wrists will be bruised, but I’m fine.”
He took your hands and rubbed his thumbs on your wrists carefully, causing butterflies to explode in your stomach.
“Thank you Spencer.” Your eyes dance with each others. “You were really hot. Maybe I need to get arrested more often.” You joke with a lift to your voice and a smirk, causing him to look down with a smile and shake his head.
“If being angry makes me hot maybe you should reevaluate what you-“
Your lips found his, you hand going to his bicep and his going to the back of your neck, before a clearing of the throat took you both out of your trances. It was Hotch.
“I’ve got some paperwork you both need to sign. About the arrest and,” his hand waved between you two, “this.”
Morgan stood behind Aaron with a smirk, leaving quickly to go tell Garcia that she had lost their bet.
taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
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