#minimal knives | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miley1442111 · 1 month

Text

the problem with arguing

a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner

summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?

warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.

1.6k + words.

“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it.

I knock again as I huff.

“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye.

“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh.

“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?”

A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile.

“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?”

My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.”

The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness.

“You two know what time it is?” He yawns.

“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?”

“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure.

He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”

We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.

And that’s when it all goes black.

I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me.

“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number.

I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron.

“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.

Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails.

“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out.

“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise.

“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks.

I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out.

I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt.

“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed.

“Jack,” I sigh in relief.

“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive.

Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”

I smile at both of them.

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor.

“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke.

“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy.

The next day, the team come in to visit.

“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me.

“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”

“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says.

“We got the guy-” Emily starts.

“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”

“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”

I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray.

“Hungry?” He smiles.

“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.

“Yes.”

I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”

“No.”

My face drops. “Oh.”

“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I did.”

I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”

“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”

“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.”

His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy.

“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds.

“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food.

“I love you too.”

443 notes · View notes

fortheloveofexy · 4 months

Text

Right now, Andrew and Neil are waving goodbye to the last few stragglers (Renee and Allison) as they head out the door with an armload of opened presents and leftover Christmas dinner. The others have all left already, all equally loaded down with gifts and Tupperware of food. Neil lets Allison hug him goodbye one last time before he closes the door. He turns to Andrew with a tired smile, still a little tipsy from spiked eggnog and the last dregs holiday spirit.

Andrew quirks an eyebrow at him and nods at the tree. Nestled in the back corner are two little boxes still wrapped in red and gold. They'd decided to wait to exchange gifts with each other until after the others went home, wanting to have this moment to themselves.

Andrew extracts their presents while Neil tucks himself onto the couch. The living room is mostly tidy, the carnage of ribbon and wrapping paper already gathered into neatly tied garbage bags. All that remains are a few wads of tissue paper left out for King and Sir to play with.

"You first," Andrew says, thrusting a box into Neil's hand. Neil accepts the gift with a grin that turns into a yawn. Andrew's wrapping is surprisingly neat, with crisp even edges and a minimal amount of tape.

Neil tears open the paper carefully, revealing the navy blue jewelry box inside. It's a necklace; a silver pendant shaped like a key. There's no inscription, but there doesn't need to be; Neil already knows what it means.

Home.

"Thank you," he tells Andrew, and he knows he's being gooey when he says it, because Andrew gets that look where he's feeling something too big to name and defaults to annoyance instead. "Your turn," Neil adds, because he's capable of mercy when he wants to be.

Wordlessly, Andrew opens his gift. His box is a little bigger than Neil's was, wrapped in soft red suede. Inside is a brand new Swiss Army knife - smaller than the blades Andrew used to carry, but no less useful.

Engraved upon the handle is a single word: Always.

"I know you said you didn't need your old knives anymore," Neil explains quickly, "But this one isn't just for protection. It's got everything; a bottle opener, a file, a flashlight - anything you might need. You'll never be without again."

Andrew considers the knife, his thumb rubbing idly against the engraving. His knee is warm where it's pressed against Neil's thigh, his expression thoughtful and relaxed. Finally, he sets the knife aside, resting it gently on the coffee table.

Neil opens his mouth to ask a question, but he's interrupted by Andrew cupping his cheek with a calloused hand. "You and your 'always'," Andrew murmurs, his eyes on Neil's mouth, "Yes or no?"

Neil smiles before leaning in. "Yes," he replies, and meets Andrew's lips with his own.

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #andreil #neil josten

466 notes · View notes

graphicpepsi · 2 days

Text

risk (nsfw, mdni)

OR: what happens when König gets bored on a mission and you just happen to be with him..?

König sighs, leaning back and adjusting himself for the third time in ten minutes. His sniper rifle sits loosely in his hand. Bored eyes scan the environment one final time before they land on you.

"Bored yet schatz?"

"No," You lied, "Just tired."

You had begged him for months to let you come on one of his missions. You wanted to see what a day at work looked like for him. And after months of trying (and months of the older man telling you it was too dangerous) he finally obliged and brought you along.

You wanted to match with him, so you wore camo cargo jeans and a black shirt. Even though he said this was a run-of-the-mill boring mission, adrenaline still coursed through your body at the feeling of it. König next to you, his giant arms holding a gun, the scent of his musk and cologne intoxicating in the confined space.

"I'm bored." He says as if it weren't obvious, breaking the silence. He lets the rifle fall down beside him as he stretches his arms out.

His eyes were trained on the open window infront of him. You were positioned on the highest floor of a nearby apartment complex. He told you his job was to watch for terrorists and shoot to kill.

You bounce your leg anxiously. König couldn't understand what excited you so much about tagging along with him, but it made him happy to see you like this.

Besides, you loved seeing him in his gear. Although you'd never admit it to him. To you, he was a gift from fucking god when he towered over you like that; tactical helmet, cartridges strapped to his chest, utility knives strapped to his thighs- it made him look twice as big, if that was even possible.

Watching his gloved hands unload & reload shells into his rifle could make you drool.

You look up to see his blue eyes locked on you.

"What were you thinking about, love?" He asks. His mask hides the expression beneath those unrevealing eyes.

"You."

"Ja?"

He has to be smiling, you think.

"You come on my mission to distract me?"

"You're distracting me." You correct him, " 'ts not my fault."

He pulls you closer to him in one smooth motion, his strong hands gripping your waist harshly. You're so close to him you can feel his mask move in front of you after each exhale.

"I distract you?" He repeats, tilting his head. His voice drips with knowing curiosity.

You don't try to hide the way your thighs squeeze together at the sound of his thick accent in your ear, the feeling of his giant hand on your side.

"Kö.." You breathe, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, pretty?"

You climb onto him, settling yourself down on his knee, your legs dangling on either side. He breathes out a low chuckle, like he can feel you pulsing on his knee or something.

"You want this, schatz?" He guides you back and forth on his knee with his hands, moving your body like putty, dragging your wet pussy along his thigh.

"Mmfh, please König," You bury your face in the crook of his neck, grabbing at his chest and shoulders for support.

He slides you back and forth, relishing in the way you roll your hips into his knee to get more friction. He presses you down firm as he pushes his knee against your pussy, dragging you up and down until you're a whining mess on top of him.

You're so wet but it's not enough to cum, and he knows it.

You whine into him, pathetically. "More," You try to hump his leg the best you can, but the minimal friction it gets you almost hurts.

"Poor baby," König murmurs, "Can't cum?"

You grab his shoulder as hard as you can, frustrated, even though you know he can barely tell. He grabs your hair and yanks your head out from his neck.

"Such an impatient little brat."

You roll your hips down into him as a response, mind a little hazy.

"Please Kö, so wet f'you." You mumble, looking into his eyes with puppy dog ones. He nearly growls at that. He loves when you get all riled up.

Before you can protest, he flips you around on his lap so you're facing the window, sitting in between his legs.

"Tell me if I need to shoot, ok Schatz?"

Your heart pounds at his voice in your ear, but even more so at the hand groping your pussy, thick fingers dipping into the waistband of your cargos.

"Wh- König, I don't know how to- oh, fuck."

He sinks a finger into you, sliding into your wet hole easily, like your pussy was made for his fingers.

He fucks it into you, slowly, curling it and then adding another one, then another one, and another one.

Four of his thick fingers pump inside of you, curling in just the right spot and vibrating against your pussy. He uses his thumb to press against your clit, pinching it and shaking it underneath him.

Just like that, you're reduced to a moaning, wet mess on his fingers. You lean your head back onto his shoulder, eyes screwing shut with pleasure as he starts shaking his fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out hard.

"König, Köni, I'm gonna cum, König-" He does nothing but speed up his hand at your whines, and it's not long before you're cumming on his fingers, creamy white seeping in between the cracks. He fucks you through your orgasm, slowing his hand down finally as he curls his fingers inside of you, fucking them slowly into you before taking them out entirely.

Your legs are vibrating, and if he wasn't supporting you you'd definitely fall.

He rests his hand on top of your wet pussy, the warmth of it making you moan. You're so sensitive that just the feeling of his rough palm against your puffy clit makes you whine.

"You gonna cum for me again kitten?" He rubs his palm roughly against your pussy before slapping it hard.

You bite your hand, muffling a loud moan because it caught you so off guard.

He spanks your pussy again, harder, "Get that fucking hand away from your mouth, brat." He slaps your cunt over and over again, your clit pulsing after each spank.

It only took a few rough spanks before you were cumming again, back arching against him with a loud whine.

"Sh, sh, good girl." He strokes your pussy, almost comfortingly before pulling your cargos back up and pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as you come down, panting.

"Oh, hang on."

He hoists his rifle up to his shoulder, takes a second to aim, and then pulls the trigger, sending a shot directly into someone's head.

"There we go."

He sets the rifle back down and pulls you back onto his lap, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

"You did so well, little liebling, good girl." He coos into your ear, stroking your back.

All you can do is nuzzle into him and try to catch your breath.

A/N: that picture made me FERALLLLL y'all wouldn't even believe how i was actin writin this like barkin woofin growlin grrrrrr gyatt DAMN is this man fine. If y'all want me to write sumth just lmkkk thanks for reading

#konig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig fanfiction #konig mw2 #könig #könig cod #cod smut #konig smut #konig call of duty #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig x y/n #könig x you

141 notes · View notes

sunny-mercya · 10 months

Text

Not so innocently

Poly! Billy and Stu x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

masterlist

AU; Where Billy and Stu haven't died at the end of Scream and Sidney come to a haunting realisation.

The night, to say it vaguely kindly, had been a turbulent one—sort of messy even—that was for sure.

Sidney felt as if she had either run a marathon or swimming through a endless pool—where she was constantly being weighed down—both being a exhausting doing. If did done such thing, but she hadn't, it simply only feels like it.

Running, dodging knives and fighting for her own survival against someone, she saw as a friend—love interest even, but only minimal on a level of having a silly crush—someone she trust, was not something to remotely be compared to running a marathon or the such.

Those are completely different things to do and while the both give the same kind of adrenaline and emotional feeling, they still differ in their very own way against another.

You could say; One of those task sparks a fiercely joy in you, while the other does not.

The blinking lights, be it red or blue or both even, were like a flashing which hurts her eyes, giving her pounding start of a headache.

Sidney was there physically but not mentally. Her mind going rabbit holes, backt to what happen during the last few hours of the night or early morning—whatever seemed more fit now, in terms of time.

The paramedics were treating her wounds. Giving a new burning sensation of strings once more, whenever they disinfecting or bandage it up. She couldn't help herself but to wince from. Sidney blinked, focusing back to her very surroundings as she gives the officers in front of her a confused glance.

«Miss Prescott, we asked if you're sure Billy Loomis and Stu Macher are the murders. Both boys had been injured as well, just as servers as you are. There is also a report of witnesses, saying they saw Ghostface killing Mr.Finchglee in front of his sweets shop.»

«So, we're asking again, to testify, are you absolutely certain it was them?»

Of course. Of course the police wouldn't believe her, a surviving victim of a murderous psychotic blood chase.

Billy and Stu are two clever boys, they know what they have to do, what they can do. Their having plans and backup plans, in case something like this—her survival—would happen.

They know how to master their Ghostface act and game perfectly.

Sidney only nodded, not trusting her voice—fearing it would crack from how hoarse it was, breathtaking screaming she did all night long—and she wouldn't be able to form proper sentences at all anymore, tongue numb and heavy weight in her mouth.

The officer just sighed, leaving her be when one of the paramedics chastised them away, for hindering their work of first aid.

They would have to question her again anyways in the next few days and Sidney wouldn't straight out say that the police in Woodsboro is fatally bad, but, they could've been far better in their job.

Taking a deep intake of the fresh chilly air, Sidney glanced ahead, admiring the trees. Leaves already turning into the brownish colours and with the upcoming sunrise, a pretty sight. Something so mundane, was calming for her troublesome mind.

Then she saw it, no. She saw them.

Billy and Stu standing by the trees in all their, bloody, glory. Patched up but the dried blood still present on their clothes. Just a few meters of walk away from her. Near enough to see their faces clearly, but far to not hear what they say to each other.

Sidney shallowed hard. Taking a sharp intake of breath. Heart thumping in her chest.

Fuck.

Stu leaned against Billy, arm causally as always slung over his shoulders, flashing her that silly boyish smile. Billy stood there, arms just a bit crossed, lopsided grin on his lips, head tilted to the side.

Billy was mocking her.

Tears begun to brim in Sidneys eyes, a slight burning to it. Trying to blink them away.

One try. One fucking chance of a try she had. To end it all, this absolute madness and all but in the end, Sidney failed miserably.

And then, when you came jogging towards them, clothed in nothing more than shorts and a oversized shirt, Sidney wanted to gag right here and now.

You acting so lovely with them— Billy holding your waist, pulling you towards him and kissing you—was like adding salt and vinegar to her wounds. How naïve could a human, could you, be?

Aren't the signs obvious enough already? Are you so blind with love, that you're not able see it? To think logically at all?

Billy and Stu are Killers! They are both Ghostface!

How can someone innocently and pure, like you, be in love—in a romantic relationship—with two absolute insane maddening killers?

Sidney felt like a crying now.

~~~

You came jogging towards Billy and Stu, letting them catch you as you didn't stop your speed and engulfed them into a hug. They might could disappear within the next second and to simply feel them; their bodies, their breathing and heartbeats, was like a anchorage for your mind—which fills itself with ever so rising anxiety.

Billy's grin turned into a more gentle one, taking his focus away from Sidney and giving you all his attention.

He leaned down, close enough to your lips to pull them with his teeth and nibbling on them. Giving you sweet long kiss, till your lips were slightly swollen.

You laid your head on Billy's shoulder, Stu hugging you two from behind placing his chin onto your heads.

«I still think we should have killed her.» said Billy, still a bit pissy about it. Sidney's death would have been the cherry on top of the delightful blood spree.

«No~ Letting her live is a far more better –»

«Why?» Stu interrupted you with his questions,

«Because, Stu honey, it is more fun to let your prey live. Ya know, playing with her pretty little mind, making her trap in it till she can't feel safe anywhere anymore without hearing our voices. It's a haunting she can't escape without turning mad herself. Perhaps we bring her into a suicide even.» a chuckle leaving your lips, eyes twinkling with glee, just thinking about it brought you delight and you start to hum a song.

«Aren't you a adorable little sadistic babe,» Billy pecked your cheek, finding a liking to your idea.

«Only sometimes.» you mused. Gripping Billys and Stus hand a bit tighter. Only sometimes you agreed with yourself.

You had almost lost your boyfriends tonight. If you hadn't switched out the patrons in the pistole, Sidney would have shot them dead without remorseful mercy. You couldn't let that happen.

«You did planned something else too, didn't you?» asked Stu, bending down just a bit to nuzzle his face into your neck. Patting his head.

«I did, I did, a little head start, something which add a certain aesthetic to it.»

You gave Sidney a smile.

~~~

Sidney's ears picked up a sound, it wasn't overall loud, just faint enough to understand it. When Sidney could clearly heard it, after straining her hearing, she never had whipped her head faster around. Scaring some of the poor paramedics.

I'm still standing, yeah yeah yeah.

Looking like a true survivor!

And I'm still standin' after all this time.

Sidney saw your smile. A smile which didn't looked so innocently at all anymore. With the rising sun, it looked more of a devilish sinister one.

And dear god. The song which was being played from whatever Car radio, was like a cruel joke. A mishap of fate.

Sidney didn't stop the tears. Having come to the bitter realisation that you are one of them. Your also a killer, just as insane as Billy an Stu.

A true survivor is what you are indeed.

#male reader #x male reader #alternate ending #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher #poly! billy and stu x male reader #billy loomis x male reader #sidney prescott #scream x male reader #ghostface x male reader #slasher x male reader

765 notes · View notes

chaotic-mystery · 4 months

Text

Pairing:Joel Miller (jackson era to be specific) x f!reader

Summary: practicing your knife skills goes south when you find yourself hiding in a janitor’s closet with Joel.

Warnings: 18+ only- MDNI. Smut, porn w minimal plot, unprotected piv, big girthy age gap but it’s not specified, forced proximity, knives, cutting panties, fingering, roughness & degradation, cum eating, spitting, dirty talk, Joel is a panty thief once again! No use of y/n. Let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Notes: Big big thank you to @pr0ximamidnight for helping me with the idea & this post inspiring dialogue for it. Also a big thank you to @amanitacowboy for Beta reading it. This is my (late) secret Santa gift to @planet-marz1 ! Hope you like it baby! 🖤 || wc: 1.5k || notif blog ||

Christmas in Jackson was like any other day for Joel, the same shit needing to be done but just a different day of the week. For you on the other hand, you were excited for the lights strung all over the town, kids throwing snowballs at each other, the overall warmth it spread. Joel had other plans for today, practicing your knife skills. The last time you two were on patrol, things got kinda hairy and you almost got stabbed with your own knife. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy having to beat a skull in with a log.

It was going well, stabbing snowmen he built all over the open field next to an old abandoned factory from years ago, when suddenly you could hear rowdy raiders yelling rude remarks towards you and Joel off in the distance. He grabbed your wrist, looking in their direction before going into his stern mode he stopped putting on for the brief moment you had with him. “Don’t ask questions and don’t make a sound, got it?” He rhetorically asks before running inside the dark building with you close behind him on his heels. The quickest solution was to hide inside an empty janitor's closet and make it seem like you ran upstairs to the empty floors or maybe even out the windows.

Joel tucks himself in the corner away from the door with you pressing tightly against him, his hand squeezing over your mouth. The clammy skin made it harder for you to breathe, your chest heaving rapidly with anxiety as you both watched the shadows run past the door.

Joel grunted as he shifted slightly behind you, a bulge pressing against your ass. Though a natural reaction to someone being up against you, he still didn’t want you to notice, not at a time like now. Several minutes go by before you hear any more noise, a voice booming down the hallway and more footsteps running past the door again. You move your ass against him a little more and whimper the faintest bit before he sees your little game.

“Knock it off before you get us found.” He grumbles in your ear and yanks you to him, his other arm holding you against him tightly.

Joel was always someone you wanted but couldn’t have. He never gave into you the way you wanted him to. Joel would flirt the day away with you but when it came down to business, he’d tell you to find someone your age who won’t break your heart. That was easier said than done in an apocalypse.

As soon as Joel doesn’t hear any more movement in the building, his hand slips around your waist and grabs you roughly.

“Santa won’t leave you on the nice list if you keep this up.” Joel's harsh tone shouldn’t be like a symphony to your ears but it is and you need more. He couldn’t get over the fact you were the only person not scared of him, scared to push his buttons to make him snap. His hand doesn’t leave your mouth and he tugs for you to meet his eyes. Your hand follows down your body until you find his, trying to drag it between your thighs.

You grind your ass against his bulge, not looking away from his eyes that glimmered with the faintest line of sunlight from a broken window to the side of you. Pulling your head away so his hand slips off your lips, you meet his eyes once more.

“Maybe then I could get an old man to punish m-” not another letter escapes you before Joel’s lips crash onto yours.

He turns you to face him with his forceful arms tugging your torso against his chest. Clawing at your body like a fully starved man, his breath gets heavier with each kiss to you.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere. Not until I’m finished with ya.” He tuts at you as his hand travels down the front of your pants and discovers how wet you are for him.

“Do you always get like this when someone manhandles you? Fuckin’ Christ you’re so pathetic for me to touch you. Where do you need me, hm?” Joel whispers into the crook of your neck, groaning from the pit of his stomach as he finds your throbbing clit with his index and middle fingers. His freehand grabs your bicep, holding your body against the small table pressed to the wall.

“Right there, pl-please Joel-oh fuck.” you whine out, knees buckling with every rub to your clit.

He matches your moans as his hand on your arm squeezes tighter like you’ll slip through his fingers if he eases up on you for even a second.

“Turn around for me, let me see where I’m gonna bury my cock.” Joel orders in your ear and spins you before you can do it yourself. So desperate for him to keep going, you bend over the table, arms tucked in underneath you. The stale, cold air hits the soaked fabric covering your pussy as Joel rips down your jeans to your ankles and cuts your panties right off you, causing you suck in a sharp breath. His warm tongue covers your clit and dips between your folds until he reaches your entrance. A groan vibrates against you as your head spins, groaning out anything to make him go faster. A smirk grows on his lips as he fiddles with his belt buckle, giving his cock a few tugs with his right hand.

“You’re about to absolutely ruin my life aren’t you? Make me so needy I only want you to fuck me..fuck, Joel.”

He spits on your glossy cunt before standing up, burying his cock deep inside you and grabbing your shoulders to keep himself steady. Your back arches as his hips start to slam into your ass, Joel's groans getting longer with each thrust. Joel tosses the closed pocket knife onto the table in front of you along with your ruined panties.

“I’m gonna fuck every last thought out of this pretty little head, you understand me?” Joel manages out between moans, squeezing your shoulders harder.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You smart mouth back at him, hoping he’ll lay into you and make you rethink ever wanting him to be so rough on you.

His left hand covers your mouth once more and yanks you against him, your back a deep arch while he continues to fuck into you. Joel’s teeth nibble on your earlobe, panting softly before mumbling, “Doesn’t matter, you’re a filthy fuckin’ girl and I know you’ll enjoy it either way.” The broken sentence slips from his lips.

He was right. It didn’t matter how he gave it to you, you wanted him to shred you apart from the inside out.

You two moaned in sync, his hands roaming all over your clothed chest as he pumped inside you, half-open mouth kisses shared between gasps of air. Joel shoved you down on the table, pushing the side of your head down to keep you still.

“Joel-I’m gonna come, baby i’m gonna come, i’m gonna come-” You chanted, eyes screwing shut as the table squeaked louder from Joel going faster.

“Come on, baby come all over my cock, c’mon baby, c’mon.” He squeezes the back of your neck as his jaw clenches, encouraging you to let go.

With a couple of more snaps of his hips against your ass, you unravel on him, struggling to keep yourself standing as your knees were giving out trying to close your thighs together. The struggle had you whining his name while you grinded against him to ride your high.

Joel barely pulls out in time to come all over your lower back, grunting profanities as he watches his load dribble onto your skin.

“Stay there, stay fuckin’ there.” Joel ordered as soon as he finished letting out every drop of cum from the tip of his cock.

You’re too fucked to argue or move away and within moments you feel his tongue lick up the dribbles of cum from your skin and his freehand turns your head, meeting your eyes with his as he spits into your mouth. A rough kiss follows and you moan in each other's mouth before he goes back for the rest that was left on your back.

“Open.” Joel mutters and pinches your cheeks firmly to part your lips, spitting the rest of his cum in your mouth. You swallow willingly before he kisses you again.

“Think you’re never gettin’ off that naughty list, baby.” He chuckles and presses a few soft kisses to your clothed shoulder blade.

He unpins you from the table and tucks his cock back into his jeans before pulling yours up to your thighs and letting you finish the rest.

“W-what about my panties?” You question as you pocket your knife, looking at him with a smirk.

“Merry Christmas to me, I ‘spose.” Joel kisses your forehead and takes your hand in his, leading you out of the building.

323 notes · View notes

marytvirgin · 1 year

Text

I like my whiskey the way I like my men

- John Price x f!Reader (Death)

Reader have tatoos... Lots of them.

I'm thinking of using this as a plot for a fic. Tell me what you think.

Be added to the Tag List!

PART TWO!

You didn't expect your night to be like this. But oh boy, this is better than you expected.

Tight black dress with thin straps with an opening on the right thigh that almost shows the strap of your black panties. Loose hair around the face, silver earrings on the ears and dog tags hanging between the neckline of the breasts. High-hein boots stiletto. Bare arms revealing the skin covered in black and white tattoos, some specific spots colored in red – patterns of roses, knives and guns cover the entire length of both arms. On your back, the large "La Muerte" tattoo appeared through the neckline of the dress.

And this type of clothing, which shows so much of what makes you you are not ideal to be close to a superior. But how were you supposed to know he'd be there just that night?

Captain Price.

A living legend.

You didn't notice him at the bar, too distracted by your companions of the night. All old army friends, gathered at a table in the centre of the bar. At this point, some men had already approached your desk trying their luck with any of you. You laughed while listening to them. Beautiful boys, but too young for your preference.

You like those who wouldn't piss you off for minimal and childish things, those who knew how to deal with women, really deal with instead of just trying to wet their dicks. The guy who'd go down on a woman and make her legs tremble; fuck your brain. Yes, that's your type.

And usually that means older men.

"Girl!" Your friend, Dani, poked you with a suspicious smile. "There's a man here who's very much your type!"

"Where?" You asked, smiling too.

Dani was that one type of friend who almost a hundred percent of the time showed you the guys you'd spend one or even a few more nights with. She knew you well enough and seemed to have a radar for good fucks. A sixth sense that benefited you – a lot.

"On your six. He's with some beautiful friends too. You must take a look!"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. Uh-oh. I'm sure you'll climb him like a fucking spider monkey. "

Shaking your head, you laughed. But the laugh died in your glass when you turned to look.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Sitting two tables behind yours was a group of four men. With his back to you was what appeared to be a mountain of muscles, the hood of the sweatshirt pulled over your head. Next to him was another strong man, fair skin and a mohawk on top of his head – this one was smiling. The other man was the smallest on the table, but still strong. This one has black skin, low cut hair and an extremely fun smile dancing on his lips – as if enjoying an inside joke with the mohawk guy. All extremely familiar to your taste.

But it was the last man you noticed that made you choke on your drink and turn to your friend, your eyes wide while coughing.

He's big, the second largest on the table. Well-combed brown hair, soft beard spread across his face, bright blue eyes, medium lips. The leather jacket makes him look even bigger. Lord, you still remember the serious and soft voice he has.

Dani is right, you could really climb Price – if he let you.

"Fuck!"

"Girl, what-"

"That's Captain Price!" Your voice came out half-shouted, half-whispered. "He leads the task force 141!" Dani eyes go wide as she recognized the name. "That's 141!"

You've been on the field with Captain Price before, the man is a force of nature when leading. You had saved Price two years ago in your first deployment with him, and then worked as the man two more times. Not only that, but you know the big man too, even if you can only see his back. He is Lieutenant Ghost; you had been deployed to him in Al Mazrah three months earlier. Extremely confidential mission, hand-picked team. And he had picked you.

Those are two of the men who had your respect to the maximum level.

"The captain?

"Himself!"

"Oh… "

Wait… oh Lord.

"Were you talking about him?!”

"I think so. Can you judge me? He's your type." She smiled as her eyes were wide-eyed. "Why don't you go there? Say hi, ask him how he's doing..."

"Are you going crazy?!".

"Whoa, I don't see the problem. With all this desperation, it seems like you have a crush on the man… "

You do, but she doesn't need to know that - she already knows, probably. This bitch.

"Dani, he was my captain in three deployments! Not to mention the lieutenant! The man can kill me if I bother him, really! " Ghost is not at all bad, just silent, focused, not so funny. Fucking dangerous.

Dani frowned and stared at you for a moment. You took it as a victory for her to drop the subject.

"In addition, our field of operation is the same. Both of us are SAS. That would go against the rules of our book.”

It's a shame.

A smile opened on Dani's lips, not the kind you like. "I dare you to go there and buy a drink for the captain. In front of him, so he knows it's you."

May God kill you now.

There it was. The word "dare" moved you. You have a problem not knowing how to lose or not proving that you were capable of something. She knows that. Your weakness. You've almost been arrested because of this before, got yourself into so much trouble in your recruiting time because of dares. But...

You think that if you defied death so many times that you've come to the point of being compared to it, you've even won the callsign Death...

You can do that.

"You are a cunt! Challenge accepted. "

Dani's laugh was too high for your taste, attracted looks you didn't want. Drinking your other friend's tequila shot, you got up and started walking to the table of 141. One by one, the men at the table have put their attention on you – it's not their fault, your clothes and tattoos make it very difficult to ignore you.

Fuck, you can't do that!

"Sergeant Death, some time without seeing you." Price greeted you as soon as you got to the table.

"Captain." You nodded lightly. "I've been busy. You know, Laswell loves me." Price opened a smile and pulled the chair free from the table for you to sit on. "Lieutenant Ghost." You waved to the man a little more serious. "Boys." The other two at the table waved, looking shocked.

"To what do I owe the honor?" Price asked, arching one of the eyebrows. Eyes gleaming in the dim lights of the bar.

God.

Help.

"A dare." You said before you could hold it. Better be honest.

"What was the dare?" Price asked, leaning his elbows on the table, leaning slightly towards you.

Oh. That move, you've had guys do it before. Same look, same inclination. God help you not to be misunderstanding the situation.

His left eyebrow rose slightly. The man's movement made a wave of confidence spread through you, a predatory smile opening on your red-painted lips revealing pearly white teeth. Your eyes moved across the table briefly taking in the reactions – all but the lieutenant had a slight glow of surprise in his eyes.

"Buy you a drink and make it clear that I did it."

"Damn it. She really went to this." The mohawk guy whistled softly at the darkened skin guy next to him.

You sat slightly leaning to the captain's side, passing one of the tattooed arms over the back of your own chair. The neckline on the breasts more prominent. Through the corner of your eyes, you saw Dani and the other women at the table spinning their jackets over their heads – Dani let a wolf whistle escape.

"So, what are you drinking, Captain?" Price chuckled as he looked you deep into your eyes.

"Whiskey."

"Hmn... "

With a shake from your hand, you called the waitress to the table and asked for another two doses. The waitress, knowing you well, smiled blinking one eye when you whispered to her what whiskey you wanted. As soon as she put the glass on the table, John picked it up and tried the drink. The man's eyebrows rose in surprise for taste.

"Surprised, sir?" You laughed lightly, really enjoying having impressed the man.

"I didn't expect you to know good whiskeys, I admit."

"You want to know my secret?" You asked, leaning slightly forward as the cup hid your growing smile. Price waved confirming. "I like my whiskey the way I like my men... I like them older."

The rest of the dose went down your throat, burning your stomach along with the tequila. You rose from the chair still smiling like a wolf that cornered his prey and supported a hand on the shoulder of the man looking into his eyes.

"They always taste better."

Price's eyes darkened slightly, his expression shifting to something slightly wild. Fuck, your body's heated up – and maybe it's not the drink responsible.

"See you around, sir."

You left the table, listening to the whistles of the two men you didn't know while they were messing with the captain. Looking over your shoulder, you noticed that John had not turned his gaze away.

Maybe he is the wolf now...

And you're the prey about to be cornered.

Fuck, you can come, Captain. I’m waiting for you.

#john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x you #captain price imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader

2K notes · View notes

blughxreader · 1 year

Note

Buy a #1 Dad mug, don't say who it's for, and watch the conflict ensue between Batdad and Superdad.

Platonic Yandere Batfam & Superfam x Reader

Within minutes of you placing an online order for a #1 Dad mug, both families know.

Bruce and Clark are adults, yet these men throw underhanded insults like they're petticoat wearing maidens in a Jane Austin novel. Nothing escalates to violence, but their egos have certainly been inflamed. While there's minimal side-eyeing, things are still... tense.

This doesn't stop the absolute anarchy that happens between your brothers.

Jon and Damian's banter is entirely making stabs at each other's dads. Jason's bets are on Superman, so Tim is crafting plans to make Superman look like a fool in front of you. Dick almost went no-contact with Bruce because he believes the mug is for himself.

Everyone half-believes it's for Alfred.

Knives fly and insults on people's dead mothers are made, while you sit and watch bemused.

What they don't know is that you needed a new kibble scooper for Titus.

#yandere batfam #yandere superfam #yandere batfamily #yandere superfamily #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere dc

2K notes · View notes

0luv9 · 4 months

Text

this love || mattheo riddle

Summary: he should know better, he should understand that it's pointless but he is a fool, acting like he knows better despite the years of fruitless pining. He lingers just for the off chance- that you could be his.

[post hogwarts setting]

Beware: angst, a bit of fluff, minimal plot (the plot itself hasn't been explored much), she/her pronouns used, mostly written in second person, kinda fast-paced, brief mention of drinking, reader has been wronged, some parts of it are fast-paced, reader's oc boyfriend, marriage, misusage of magic, blood and fighting, hospitals.

(I don't know what I just wrote)

Words: 8.1k

He knew he was fighting a losing battle, knew that from the very moment, his eyes fell on you for the first time. Yet he can’t help but try, try and win this battle, to win you over because he knows it’ll be worth it. There’s no explaining behind this unreasonable love for you, there’s no clear moment where he came to the realization, that it’s something he’s always known, to be in love with you.

But you are in his arms, your boyfriend, the perfect man, the sight telling him to look away, telling him that you are off limits.

How can he forget you though? You are the reason he breathes nowadays, but you are so blissfully unaware of the turmoil you’ve caused. Whenever you are in his sight, his heart pounds violently against his chest, he has never felt this way towards someone else and he doesn’t think he’ll remain sane any further.

Mattheo was never a sane man, so why pretend otherwise?

He’s a fucking hypocrite, has made you a bad habit of his, he wouldn’t like it if someone stole you away from him, but he’d gladly steal you away from anyone else. But you are you, ever so loyal to your boyfriend, you've been with the guy for over 5 years now, sweethearts of Hogwarts and now sweethearts of the ministry.

It's been three years since you've all left Hogwarts he was waiting for you to break up with your boyfriend, but it never came, it wasn't some case of stupid teen love like he thought it was, in fact, it became even serious-

He should have given up long back, but he just couldn't help himself, he hasn't changed much over the years, old habits die hard. Troublemaker then, troublemaker now. Mattheo wanted to beat the shit out of your boyfriend Lucas, how could he though? It would hurt you and there was no excuse he could give; it would only strain your relationship with him.

He wants to make a move but knows your answer will always be negative, so he keeps a stone over his heart and pines after you from afar.

...

But it's not enough, it's never enough. One look at you entering the room with fucking Anderson feels like a hundred knives stabbing through his heart all at once. You are in emerald green, the same shade as Lucas' shirt, his arm around you, looking ever so beautiful. Mattheo closes his eyes, hand over his burning chest trying to calm himself down as Lucas leans down to kiss you.

"They look so good together," he hears Pansy gush from his side, his friends agreeing, and he can't even bring himself to look in your direction. Would it be the same if it was him instead of him? He can only imagine being Lucas, it's pure jealousy he feels towards the man.

Why did he even come to this party? To see you, of course, there hasn't been a single day where he hasn't seen you, but he fucking forgot that you wouldn't be alone, you are never alone, he's always with you. It wouldn't be the same without the two sweethearts, it was the ministry's doing after all.

He thinks though, would Lucas love you like him? Mattheo just wants you to be his, it pains him to know that he can never be with you. You have so much control over him, but you don't even know, he smiles when you smile, he's angry when you are angry, he's sad when you are sad-

Has memorized each detail of yours, made you a constant in his life, fell in love with you all over again, with every smile of yours, with every word of yours, with every hum of your voice, with every movement of yours, he just couldn’t help himself, you took over him, it was inevitable.

Ever since the day you walked into his life, he walked with you, always together. Two worlds of their own, revolving around each other, that was until you found your sun, found someone else to revolve around but he was still tied to you, still circling you and always ended up colliding with him.

...

Why did you have to choose Lucas and not him? He's known you longer, he's liked you long before him, you were his best friend before you were Lucas’ girlfriend but why did he come first in your books?

You turned his world upside down that Thanksgiving day during your sixth year, running to him smiling and blushing, he thought you were about to confess to him but instead, you told him about your crush on Lucas and how you had scored a date with him- all out of the blue, he never saw it coming, who even was Lucas? “Lucas Anderson, he’s in the same year as us, the Ravenclaw perfect!” Then he never heard the end of it.

You with that stupid smile of yours, it was a sickening sight really, he loved seeing you smile but he couldn’t stand to look at it when he knew it was because of your boyfriend. It was as though, he had been replaced, it was no longer “Mattheo this, Mattheo that-” “Lucas! I’ll be wearing this to the party, or should I wear that dress, you know the blue one you love,” hanging off Lucas’ arm, navigating through the mess you and the girls had made in the common room, with those lovesick eyes-

‘Get over it’ he tells himself, but he can’t help the ugly feeling creeping up on him, Mattheo feels like throwing up as the nostalgia surges through him at the sight, you used to hold onto him like that, he silently looks at you, there’s grief in his eyes.

As the days pass by, he realizes how you no longer sit with him, how far you’ve been. And he can do nothing but watch you from a distance, can’t object so he seals his lips together, never mentions it, waits for the sweet honeymoon phase to be over but it never ends...

It’s been five years, and you two are still sickeningly in love with each other, it’s all in his face, he steals a few glances in your direction, can’t spare much more than a few seconds because it pains to look at you all happy in some other guy’s arms, the one who does right by you, the one who never gave you a reason to walk away.

Anderson made it all look so easy, he swayed you off your feet the moment he met you and here he was, Mattheo Riddle, still trying to quantify his unending love for you, he misses you, so he drinks your favourite drink, in the memory of you, you are the star of the night, the centre of the ballroom, too bright for his eyes, too sweet for his tongue, like the wine and rum you drink.

But he savours it, it’s the closest he can get to you nowadays, he’s gotten used to living like this, in pieces, each part seeking you in different ways, some part of him begs to hear your voice, some part of him longs for your touch but he can do nothing about it because Mattheo Riddle doesn’t have the privilege of being loved by you, he’s just another man in the endless sea of your admirers.

Even the silence feels uncomfortable now, he can’t just stick to his old ways, he can’t just silently watch the two of you dance in each other's arms, moving gracefully around the expanse of the shiny floor, he excused himself, a strong drink in his hand. Tears prickled down his face the moment the midnight breeze made contact with his skin, his head spinning with images of you, the memories of you, of the last moments of you with him, the last time you properly talked to him.

Mattheo remembers how you’d clean him up after he was bloodied up during some fight, how you’d lecture him, how soft and careful you were with him. How you’d patiently listen to his rants, helped him with his short-tempered nature, helped him navigate through all the academic stress. He remembers the healing touch of yours, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, massaging his forehead, humming to him as he lay his head in your lap, easing him of the sharp stingy headache, continuing your ministrations until he dozed off comfortably in your lap while you rested your head uncomfortably against the wall.

His heart swells as he reminisces those days, those memories that probably meant much more to him than they ever meant to you, even today’s grief and sorrow can’t stop the fond smile from appearing on his face. He’s been on this journey for so long, he understands this feeling too well, letting his mind wander, smiling at the sweet times till he remembers how it’s no longer in his fate to be in your arms, reality punches him in the gut, old habits die hard- he had gotten into a lot of verbal sprawls at the ministry, it got physical a few times and you weren’t there beside him, instead you were beside Lucas, sending him a pitiful look and that was about it, he had come to expect of you to be by his side whenever things got nasty, you had always been there but now, you were a stranger, were you even there to begin with? The look of pity was so unlike you-

The loud conclusive thump of the band pulls him out of it, out of all the questions, of what was and what could’ve been. He hears footsteps nearing him and quickly walks into the first door he sees. Wiping away his tears, ruining the sleeves of his navy suit, it’s draining him to love you but but but he can’t just fucking stop.

Mattheo didn’t realise what happened in the next few seconds, the door to the closet he was hiding in opened and someone entered the tiny space closing the door after themselves, it was you, damn his unfair fate.

You look surprised as you take notice of him, your hand reaching the door handle shaking it frantically, locked.

You glance down at the handle whispering “Alohomora,” It doesn’t work instead your head feels heavy, and you don’t have your wand on you, you look at Mattheo and then look towards the handle, silently asking him to open the door, “Don’t have your wand?” you shake your head, it’s amusing, the situation the two of you are in, he has his wand with him but he’ll pretend otherwise, he’s gotten you with him after so long, “Me neither and I was never good at wandless magic,” it was a lie of course, but anything to be with you.

It was strange though, why wasn’t your wandless magic working, that too with such a simple charm, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, he couldn’t focus, not like this, not with you so close to him. Breathing the same sir, enclosed in a tight dark place, it feels surreal, he’s losing it. Mattheo can feel your strong gaze on him, you try to create some space between the two of you, but he holds you close, there’s no space what were you even doing?

You close your eyes at the contact, the touch was cruel, it was intrusive, it felt as though your mind was being probed- it hurt, physically hurt. It felt wrong, it burned where he touched you but there was an itch his touch was scratching, the longer he held onto you, and you started melting, the pain minimising by seconds, it no longer felt like a punishment instead it felt familiar, comforting, knocking you off your alarmed senses. You slowly breathe in, taking in the smell of his cologne and the smell of strong whiskey on his breath and... and- strawberry daiquiri, his hand left yours as you opened your eyes, his eyes were sad, he was Mattheo, your best friend!

Your vision unfocused and focused back again, body aching at the loss of contact, mind blank, veins burning, he looks away for a second and your heart clenches uncharacteristically. There's no actual logic behind your next move yet you do it because you ache for it, you don't exactly know why but you pull his face down and kiss him. He pulls away almost instantly after the initial shock, what the fuck are you thinking?

The light that seeps through the little cracks of the door falls onto your face, lighting it up, making Mattheo gulp at the sight, you look up at him with eyes so unnaturally blown off, hazy and dilated- you tug his collar staring at his lips, Mattheo inhales sharply and bends down to kiss you because, "Fuck it."

He holds your face tightly in his hands, cold metal rings digging into your skin, it's all he has ever wanted, there's no morality to hone here not when he has you right where he wants and why should he care that it's wrong, when you clearly don't? Mattheo kisses you with such fervour that your mind spins, your knees going weak all of a sudden making it hard for them to hold you up and body going numb unable to pick up on the feel of his body against yours, darkness surrounding you even when you shoot your eyes open, you feel yourself sink and then- nothing.

Mattheo freaks out when you go limp in his arms, he mutters a quick spell to unlock the door and pulls you out, making you sit against the door, patting your face and trying to wake you up. “Riddle!”– it’s Lucas, rushing by your side, taking you from Mattheo’s arms into his own, the worry on his face is akin to the one on Mattheo’s but there’s terror in his eyes too as he looks up at Mattheo, “What- What happened–” he just looks back down at your unconscious self, gulping hard at the crease of your brows, easing the tension with his fingers, “I don’t know- I just found her, like this you know...” he lies through his teeth and Lucas shakes his head, not paying any serious attention to the man in front of him when his girlfriend is unconscious in his arms, “I’ll take her back home, don’t worry-,” then Mattheo hears the man mutter to himself, “I hope, she’ll be alright,” Anderson picks her up in his arms, spares Mattheo a quick glance and rushes out.

…

Are you even there-? He tries to be around you, but you always look out of it, never paying any attention to him, in fact you don’t even look his way while he’s out here staring at you, every thought leads up to you, it was tiring and worrisome because you are smiling, so brightly, so close to him but somehow your light doesn’t reach him anymore.

You both work in different departments of the ministry but he always has found a way to be around you, he’ll never stop. Why should he stay away from you? He doesn’t fucking like the fact that you are ignoring him and it’s more annoying because it’s not like you are actively trying to avoid him, you just act like he doesn’t exist, like he's some stranger, there’s no active effort in your actions- he is your best friend for fucks sake the least you could do is treat him like one.

How can he live with such distance from you, you who acts like he’s a nobody, he’s always near you, always around you but somehow you keep straying far away- how is supposed to handle you, the you- who pretends that the kiss never happened, who pretends that you didn’t stain his lips with your lipstick, the woman who tainted him and pretended like she didn’t do it, why’d you kiss him like you love him and then act like it didn’t fucking happen- running off to your happy to go relationship, there was something off, very off about you, you didn’t look bothered in the slightest, it wasn’t like you, at all.

Mattheo couldn’t stand to look at you kiss Lucas as though you weren’t onto him the other night, how can you just move past it?

…

It hasn’t even been a week since the party and his friends are getting ready for another one, he loves them, but he is in no mood to party not after what happened, how would they know anyway- neither you nor him have spoken about it, why’s there no guilt in your actions as you hold onto Lucas?

The party, yes something about ‘the current events that took place, call for a big celebration’ he didn’t pay much attention to his friends, not until they mentioned your name, “They both will love it, especially her-” “I am sorry, what are we celebrating?” he finally took part in the conversation, all heads at the table turned towards him, “She didn’t tell you?” Blaise was the first one to break the awkward silence, “Tell me what?” at this, his friends shared a look, as though he had said something ridiculous. Why can’t they just tell him, instead of asking rhetorical questions? His patience was wearing thin at their silence, he stared at Draco, the closest to him, gaze so intense it compelled the blonde to speak, “Anderson proposed-”

Mattheo was on his feet the next second, he had heard enough, storming off to your department floor, you had some explaining to do. You sure had the audacity to play with him, he never expected such a wound from you.

There you are, alone and working, he walks towards you in vexation, you stand up as you hear his angry feet, he stands in front of you breathing heavily.

There’s no longer a spark in your eyes as you look at him, you are within his reach, yet you feel so far away– your sweet smile is still there but it feels different. “Good afternoon! What can I do for you today?” your voice is polite, and his eyes fall to your left hand, there it is– the sign of his blatant rejection. You kissed him and now not even a week later you are engaged to someone else, he doesn’t get it. Should he be selfish and break the truth to Lucas, have you all for himself? Would you even want that- will you ever fucking choose him? He harshly grips your hand, pulling it up, in front of your face, as if mocking your decision, “what’s this?” he squeezes your ring finger so carelessly, it hurts him that he doesn’t seem to care about your happiness for once, you only smile at him tilting your head to the side, “An engagement ring, sir-” he drops your hand, your words sting but your actions sting more, there’s not an ounce of guilt on your face, you simply look at him as if he’s some rando, who has no place to question you.

Mattheo balls his hands into tight fists, nails digging into his palms, shutting his eyes, bringing the fists up to his forehead trying to soak it all in, it’s nauseating, what happened?! What’s happening- you looked, felt, heck even sounded so different, it was you but then he looks at you a second longer and he no longer sees the eyes he fell in love with. Your mere existence is like poison, spreading throughout his body without his permission, he tried, okay? Tried to get rid of you, tried not to fall in love with you-

You used to smile, and he used to look for the source, capturing the moment in his heart, trying to recreate it, he loved to make you happy. Mattheo doesn’t remember a life where he didn’t love you, he couldn’t just think beyond you once the inevitable happened, you made him happy, you made his life better, and he knows no other way of existing other than being helplessly in love with you, no matter how much it hurts, just tell him you love, even if it’s a lie.

No. Don’t do that, he won’t be able to let go of you, no matter what you do, you send his head spiralling, he just wants you to love him, is that too much for him to ask? You were his happiness throughout the years but why were you withdrawing now? After getting him hooked up, addicted to you, he blames you for this, but he doesn’t- how could he? You are so sweet, the one he loves.

He can’t handle it, it’s stupid to love someone who doesn’t love you back, he looks at the huge blue stone on your finger, and his hand itches to throw the ring out, but he can’t do that, so he walks away from the woman he loves.

‘There’s something special about diamonds no matter how generic. Colours are pretty, sure, but I love the simplicity of a diamond, if someone proposes, I don’t think that’ll ever happen ha-ha-ha, but I’d love a small, polished diamond imbedded in a thin rose gold band. Something fragile, worth the extra care, like this life of ours,’ He remembers your exact words, he had been pestering you near the end of the fifth year to tell him about your future, about your ideal wedding, it was him trying to plan for you, for both of your future together, both of you were tipsy when you had your heart to heart, it was a darn cringy way of doing it but back then he thought you liked him back, he thought it was given that you’d get with him when the two of you grew up, how fucking naïve-

…

Mattheo was tired, he was just existing for the sake of it, going through the endless files, signing here and there on parchments, he hadn’t spoken in the past few days, he held onto his silence, there was no point. “She resigned, honestly, I didn’t see that coming but if that’s what she wants, I support her,” there they were, his friends talking about you, “I mean, Anderson just got a promotion, he makes a lot of money, she doesn’t really have to work,” this was new, something was very wrong, did you really change this much? There’s no way you’d leave your job just like that, Mattheo knows how much you cherished that job, it was your dream job after all. Money was never in the equation before, but why is it such an important variable now? You told him you’d work that job even if you made only a few knuts throughout the year.

“Anderson asked her to leave the job and she just did, she really loves him to do that, he didn’t even have to repeat himself,” Even with Mattheo making much more than Anderson he wouldn’t even think of asking you to leave your job, the one you worked so hard for, the one you tirelessly competed for, nothing made sense anymore. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, had you really given up this easily? What’s going on? He can’t even talk with you without breaking down, he can’t talk to you because it seems like you no longer recognize him, he himself doesn’t recognize you, he doesn’t see you in these choices of yours.

Maybe he doesn’t know you like he thinks he does, you have changed but he still doesn’t find himself falling out of love, why can’t he stop caring? And why can’t he do shit about it?!

...

It’s been days since Mattheo has last seen you, it's night, and he hasn’t properly slept in days, why did you have to steal his peace? He roams the streets like a crazed man, he goes wherever his feet take him and it’s no surprise that they halt right in front of your house, what was he even doing here? You were getting married in a week, time was flying by so fast, and he was running low.

He wanted to tell you to not do it but what will he even say? ‘Don’t marry him because I love you?’ Would you even care- Does he even have the right to say something? Would his words even change a thing? Riddle didn’t come here to cry but he can’t help the tears, he’s a wretched man, he feels helpless, there’s not much his body allows him to do these days. He sinks to his knees for a moment, to shed tears at the nameplate on your door, it’s the name of the woman he loves, the one who is soon about to be an Anderson, taking the name of some other man, the one he could never be. He tries to collect himself and walk away like the coward he is.

Earlier he used to say, ‘at least she loves me in my dreams,’ but nowadays, he doesn’t sleep too well, the dreams don’t come to greet him anymore- his imagination is no longer blissful, the reality is too dark, too etched in his life to ignore, to think otherwise.

He gets up and kicks the trash can in front of your house in frustration, he doesn’t anticipate it falling over and making such a loud sound.

But you are glad, the noise breaks you out of the deep trance you were put in, you wake with a jolt, your heart beating rapidly, and there’s not much going in your mind, you take a second to look around, it’s your room but it looks so different from what you remember, you feel weak, drained. You peek out of the curtains beside your bed from where the sound came, it was Mattheo!

You jump onto your feet and run downstairs, swinging the front door open, you don’t have a single thought in your mind except the one that asks to see him, your heart aches, there’s no other way to describe this painful longing that burns you, you’ve numbed everything out, you don’t feel the cold floor beneath your feet, the sting of the cold air that pushes past you, you just want to be close to him.

The sight of you was like a wound to his chest, the dishevelled state of you, the weakness on your face, the visible lines of despair on your face. You freeze for a second when you see him but then you are onto him, throwing your arms around him, hugging him tight, it all came crashing down when his arms wrapped around you pulling you even closer. There’s unending comfort in his embrace yet it doesn’t take away the sorrow, all you feel is relief surging through your body at his touch, it’s overwhelming, everything dawns upon you, and the mind that had shut itself earlier now begins running a thousand miles a second, you can’t help the tears, there’s no other way of saying that you are not fine, everything feels too real, you feel alive- like you are breathing for the first time in forever. There’s so much left unsaid, untouched but you can’t pull away just yet.

But he can, he puts his hands on your shoulders, examining your face contoured with hurt, but there are no physical wounds he can whisper cures at. There’s just the continuous stream of tears gushing down your face, the ones that wet his shirt, he can only wipe them away. He watches you with such concern, so much worry, you open your mouth to tell him that it’s okay, but nothing comes out, his hands come to hold your face, you try again, ‘Mattheo’ no sound still, only your lips move, your throat burns, you cry again. What’s happening? There are just tears that could give him the answer, but he doesn’t understand, has no clue, your breath hitches again and through your blurred vision you beg him to hold you close.

He pulls you back into his embrace, rubbing your back trying to soothe you, the other hand holding your head close to his heart. Mattheo had always been stupid when it came to you, but it never hurt him this much, so stupidly in love with you, always overtaken by his delusions that if you were with him, he’d never let you feel any pain but now that you were in his arms, eyes pleading, he couldn’t do a thing. He just wants to take away all the ills that bother you, wants to take away all the pain but he doesn’t understand a thing, he begs the stars above to let him understand this silent cry of yours.

There are innumerable questions he wants to ask but he wouldn’t understand so, the words die on his tongue, like they always do when you are with him. This love that had always been silently killing him, hurt him like no other, was now threatening to spill all that was left unsaid into the silence of the night, words protected within the vicinity of his mind, it was overbearing, ready to spill, and it was getting hard to hold onto it.

You release yourself out of his hold and suddenly he feels a lot colder, the cool breeze seeps through the wet patches on his shirt, making him shiver but he pushes it all aside when you hold onto his hand and tilt your head. “Should- Should I take you in?” he hesitates as he speaks, all his focus on you trying to understand whatever it is that you were asking of him, you shake your head and point at him, “My house?” you nod, the frown on your face softening a bit at his words.

Mattheo holds you close and walks you to his house, but you stumble quite a few times for him to just ignore, he silently picks you up, you don’t protest, there’s no point, your mind is hazy, there’s no strength in your limbs, so you just hold onto to him. But the hold you have on him is suffocating to him, he can’t be happy about you being close to him, not when you were hurting.

Gaunt Manor, it's your first time here, he dreamed of bringing you here albeit the scenario was different, it was happy, but the present was sad, in his dreams he’d bring you into the house as his happy wife, but it never worked out, you were entering the residence of the man who didn’t dare to call it his home, it was never warm and welcome, it was just familiar, he doesn’t know how it’s supposed to bring peace to you, how it’s supposed to make you any feel better than the cold outside.

He places you on the couch of the huge living room, mutters a spell and the lamps light up the room, then he’s kneeling in front of you, waiting for you to ask anything of him, a bit disappointed in his inability to make things better. Your eyes are red and puffy, you try to speak again as you look at him instead your mouth runs dry, and you can’t feel your voice, it’s a sad attempt at nothing.

Mattheo suddenly rises to his feet, and an unwanted thought strikes him, you'd rather be with your fiancé in such a moment of vulnerability, “Should I call Anderson?” He doesn’t want to look at you because it’d sting to know that he’d never be your first choice- you are quick to shut his train of thought, you hold his hand and urge him closer, shaking your head, the thought left him as soon as it came, the tears were back, they tell him, that all this has something to do with Anderson and it fucking angers him.

His grip tightens around your hand as you try to pull away once he kneels in front of you, you frown when he doesn’t let go, there’s grief in your eyes, sorrow that he doesn’t get, he sighs lets go but keeps close and looks out for your next movement. You breathe in slowly, chest heaving with tension as you look at your left hand resting in your lap, the blue gem on your finger sending shivers down your spine, it was ugly, the feeling that it gave you, you close your eyes not wanting to look at it as you try to pull it off your finger, your jaw clenches, teeth crushing each other. Several small needles poke at your skin, they dig deep into your finger as you try to remove the ring, you feel the hot blood starting to ooze out.

Mattheo’s eyes dart up to your face, you can't scream, you can't tell him how much it hurts, you can just shake your head at him and cry, tears rapidly running down your face wetting your collar. You go to wipe them instead you make a mess, staining your face with blood, the scene breaks him, you being so helpless.

He wipes off the blood and tears, you don't shoo away from his touch instead you close your eyes and lean into it, biting your lip because the needles are still digging into your skin, his attention shifts to the ring, he tries to pull at it, but you flinch away, he instantly lets go, muttering all the spells he knows, it doesn’t work.

He asks if you can write it all down, you try to hold the quill, but the tremors are evident in your grip, your hands are shaking frantically, and you clench your fists trying to make it stop but it’s fruitless, like all your attempts at taking control over your body.

Mattheo clasps his hands over yours in a reassuring grip, the touch sends sparks through your veins, then you hear screaming, something trying to wake you up, then breathing becomes a manual task, you feel your throat tightening, you start coughing, pulling your hands away from his and cover your mouth.

You taste iron, then the salts from the tears and sweat along the way as you purse your lips. The vibrations of your heart started ringing in your ears, all your senses heightening, making you cower into the couch, it was cold, it was hot, you were being pushed into pitch darkness, and you hear different voices going round and round, it’s Lucas, it’s Mattheo, it’s your friends, all calling your name, you are falling- it's an endless loop you are stuck in. Why should you go through this torture when you did nothing to deserve it? When all he can do is watch, watch you go through all that pain. Lucas is in front of you, smiling and holding a bouquet, of all the flowers you love, you are in a white gown, he’s in a white suit, there are people around the two of you, and you are tied up? There are binds around your wrists and legs, and you can’t move a muscle while Lucas walks towards you bending down to kiss you- and black.

Happens again, he bends down to kiss you, but you don’t- can’t move, Lucas’ shirt gets red, his smile gets even wider as he pulls back, it stretches and stretches, and there’s blood on your lips, on your dress, you try to move but your body doesn’t cooperate, as though it has been paralyzed- “Mrs Anderson,” and it goes black.

Mattheo wanted to be your knight in shining armour, wanted to be the person you’d blindly fall back on but right now, things were different, he felt hopeless, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something happened to you under his watch, he quickly grabbed a piece of scrap parchment and ink, writing to St Mungos, they’d know how to help you, right?

…

He’d always wait for you, even if it takes you an eternity, no matter how many lives it takes, he won’t truly live until you become his, happily his. He’d take anything you give him but he much rather take away all your pain than see you in such agony.

Mattheo sits by your bed, the surroundings worry him more, ghostly white all around, putrid smell of different potions, incoherent yelling from behind the curtains, he can’t seem to secure a private room, no matter how many times he tries, all the wealth and so-called influence seems useless now.

You wriggle and twitch in your sleep, his hold on you never falters, they put you on some drugs, and your body was trying to fight it, it’s been two hours since he brought your unconscious self here, you screamed and cried in your sleep. No one was telling him what was going on, all the nurses did was come ruin your peace every few minutes, pushing a vial of liquid past your lips making your body stiff with tension and then you’d cry, he could feel your skin get hot, could feel the quickening of your pulse.

He was about to yell at some people because why the heck was no one talking to him? They’d spare him a glance and then rush past him, they were hearing him, but they weren’t responding properly, dismissing every question of his with an excuse. You coughing up blood was his last straw; he grabbed the first nurse he saw; he didn’t give a flying fuck that she was an older woman, didn’t care about the nasty look she was giving him, “What’s going on with her?” he pointed to your bed, his eyes were red, tired and frustrated, they turned sombre at her scrutinizing gaze, “Please just tell me,” he was quite literally begging.

The woman walked over to your side, holding your hand, muttering a few enchantments and cutting the ring band off your finger, sighing as she faced Mattheo while checking up on you, “Strong dosage of Amortentia,” “WHAT?” Mattheo was towering over her, yelling, eyes wide with anger, “Yes, an accumulation of over four years-” “WOULDN’T THAT KILL HER?” “You would know-” ”WHAT?!”

” Don’t act so innocent, it doesn’t suit you,” and there it is, the filth that is attached to his name, Mattheo Riddle, son of Tom Riddle, a father he never had, the one who died before he was even born. But it’s the truth, his truth, one he could only wish to escape from. He had always been his son, it didn’t matter if tries to change his name, he’d always be Riddle, and everyone knew him as one. Abandoned by death, he never knew himself- Mattheo as someone who could love or someone worthy of being loved. It was unfair, to be treated as his father’s son, that’s all he could be.

Embraced by fellow Slytherin heirs, not because they still believed in blood superiority but because they were alienated and knew the fate that shone at his feet, for it was the same colour as their own shadows.

Maybe that’s why he fell for you, the first person to smile at him who wasn’t adorned in green.

All his life he had been paying for the mistakes he never made, and had been trying to get rid of the black stains on his name, they were slowly fading but it was hard, to have to constantly prove himself, there was no integrity in their judgement, he always had to walk an extra mile to show them that he was worth it, for years he tried to walk away from the very name he was, a Riddle. But today, he doesn’t try, he’ll gladly be what they made of him, son of the dark lord.

Because the spell is right at his tongue, he very well means it but it’s you that stops him, you sit up on the bed, looking around frantically, he rushes to your side and hugs you tight, sits on the edge of the bed, you wrap your arms around him, crying yet again but this time you call out his name, “Mattheo,” and there’s nothing he could be more grateful for.

And right on cue, the nurse gasped loudly rushing out the small space, realizing something. He looks at you though, in relief, your voice is back, “How are you feeling?” he whispers, distress visible in his tone but he tries to hide it from you, “hurts,” you croak out and it hurts to even talk, you hug him again, his touch was soothing, his presence was made you relax but it was short lived, few nurses rushed to your side, trying to pull you off him but you were crying not letting go, being away from his touch tormented you.

“It’s going to be okay, you are going to be okay,” he presses his lips to your forehead, he himself didn’t want to pull away but he knew no cure, he was dependent on them, he promised you again, there was hope in his words, it was definitive, you were going to be okay, he’ll make sure of it, he squeezed your face before being pulled away, “I’m here.”

They put you to sleep, some things happen right in front of his eyes but all he sees is the grief-struck face of yours, the sunken eyes and he tries not to think of what he had been told, he seals his eyes shut, the way yours are. But the horror is still present, it’s dark after all.

Lucas is there, walking up to you, his white suit turning red as blood drips off him.

Mattheo was about to beat Lucas up. He won’t though, not yet, not until you are breathing properly, and speaking properly. “I’m sorry,” it’s the nurse from earlier, she walks away just as he opens his eyes, “At least tell me what’s going on,” desperation clings to his words, the woman sighs glancing at your sleeping form, she gulps as she tries to find the words, there’s humility in her voice, “someone has been giving her small dosages of amortentia but gradually as her resistance level rose, so did the dosage and there are negative effects to this, the love potion has been perfected so many times, each version stronger than the previous one, the side effects also become worse. Retaliation makes it worse, she tried her best to break free.”

At this point, the woman started shedding a few tears, it was hard to believe such a monster would exist and it was not his son, these wrongs weren’t done by the man in front of her but because of the man in front of her. You should have burned from his touch, but you didn’t, he wasn’t the man he was supposed to be.

‘Antidote side effect- the victim will burn from everyone’s touch except for the supposed true love-’ Infirmary guidebook volume one.

...

You love him?

He is loved back?

There’s so much to feel, it overwhelms him. His chance at a good life was snatched away from him, his love was stolen from him, and he was angry. You were in love with him all this time, he would have never known if it wasn’t for his stupid heart walking up to your doorstep. He can’t bring himself to be happy because you are sad, you are in pain, you were about to die, a few more doses and he would have lost you forever. This dumb fucking love, it’s maddening.

Mattheo looks at you, the red patches on your legs, the scars on your arms, the uneven tones caused by bruises, the side effects, the reason you were covered up all the time. He wanted to knock fucking Anderson out but he dare not leave your side.

He wants to beat himself up for not noticing, he prided himself in loving you, and thought no one would look at you like he did, but what was this love worth when it couldn't save you from all this trouble. What was this pride even about? There was nothing to be proud of, not when he couldn’t see the bright eyes dimming, not when he didn’t see the unusual becoming the usual when he didn’t see constant becoming the story of the past and change becoming the new constant.

He blames himself; he blames all the excuses he gave, that you were doing alright just because he couldn’t put his pride away and just ask you.

He didn’t like that you had to suffer just because you loved him, was his name that cursed? In his dreams, for you to love him, the consequences were always bright. This love isn’t fair, he would’ve died not knowing any of this, the truth would’ve haunted him for the rest of eternity, and he’d forever be stuck in a loop of regret and guilt.

Why couldn’t it be simple? Why did you have to get hurt?

There would be no one left if there were no you, he’ll make fucking Anderson pay, he risked killing you just so he could keep you to himself, this obsession is not admirable, it’s unfathomable to do such things to someone you claim to love.

Mattheo will never be able to forgive himself, not when he ought to be the one who cared and loved you the most.

...

A week later you were on your legs, weak but stable, and both of you were summoned for Lucas’ trial. Your chest swelled when the judge declared a lifelong punishment, Mattheo held your hands in his as Anderson was being escorted out, you knew the reason behind the determination in his eyes, who were you to stop him? You sighed and looked down, it’s not something you could watch though, he gently kissed your hand and reminded you, “He deserves it,” yes, he does, you were still recovering from side effects, and others’ touch still burned. Therefore, Mattheo’s touch was comforting in ways beyond physical, you didn’t want that touch to be corrupted by his blood.

“ANDERSON!” before the man can turn around, Mattheo’s fist meets his face, there’s no stopping this, no spell would amount to the satisfaction the hit gave him. Mattheo won’t be done till death threatens the man, he loved you too you know but he would have never sacrificed your happiness for his, yes, he was selfish, but it never came at the cost of your peace, your freedom.

It was torture, to confine someone, to close all their options, make them braindead, to hurt someone, to steal someone away from themselves, to do all this without feeling guilty, doing it intentionally, over years and still not sensing the wrongs and fucking stopping.

No one tried to stop him, no one drew their wands up, they just watched- a man trying to find compensation for what he had lost, what she lost- he would never find it and Anderson needs to know that no amount of punishment would compensate his wrongs. No amount of begging or apologising would save him, he is what he made of himself. He knew what he was doing, till his blood wore thin, till he saw death, Mattheo won’t stop and for the first time, in the court of law, violence is the answer.

The people see a man they’ve wronged, they see the man they read incorrectly and the man they honoured and it’s not who they thought it was, they stay silent because it’s the only apology they can give.

In this eerie silence, all you can hear is pain, Lucas and Mattheo, the two men in pain but it’s so different from one another, one carries the wound that would heal within days and the other hones a wound of hurt that’d never heal, only fade.

You pull Mattheo away from the unconscious man, there’s only so much pain you could afford to see on his face, you don’t look back as you walk him to the restroom.

Between his legs, cleaning his wounds, not scolding him though, Mattheo smiles sadly, this familiarity strikes at his heart, “I love you,” his tone is solemn, this is what he would’ve lost- has lost, tears swell up in his eyes, Mattheo gently held your face in his bruised hands, with utmost sincerity you whisper those very words back, his lips met yours- in culmination of years' worth of longing, love, all things unsaid and all things lost. Amidst the darkness of all misunderstandings, all the mourning, there is hope, there’s love waiting to blossom, it looms over their wounded hearts, lips on each other like a seal, a promise of healing, there was no better confession you could ask for this love, the one that transcends words.

...

#mattheoxreader #matheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #matheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #pansy parkinson #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #sorry it took me so long #i have an exam tomorrow but this is important #mattheo riddle

342 notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 5 months

Text

.⋆｡Lost Souls Part 2｡⋆.

The Lost Princess Chapter 8

Jotun!Loki x plus size reader

With the discovery of who Loki really is, Y/N returns to the avengers determined to forget him, but things are never that simple

Warnings: arranged marriage, angst, enhanced!reader, swearing, age gap, angst, depression, sickness, fluff, smut (finally), loss of virginity, minimal foreplay, some confessions, unprotected sex, bit of praise kink

WC: 3k

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Snow whipped around her violently, slicing into her skin like tiny knives. Huge columns of ice surrounded her, caging her in a frozen maze which she could never hope to escape alone.

Fear clawed up her belly as Y/N snapped her head around, eyes wide, desperately searching for a way out. “This isn't the palace!” She screamed into oblivion but, of course, received no answer back.

There was a light in the distance, just barely shining through the haze of the storm, tempting her towards the unknown. An ache deep in her chest pulled her forwards, guiding her through the frozen forest until she reached a humble cabin tucked between to particularly large columns. It was quite obviously not built with a Frost Giant in mind given its small size. It rather looked like it was made for a human.

A dying candle in the window was the only light emanating from the otherwise dark house. The storm was beginning to grow worse so Y/N picked up her pace until she found herself at the doorstep.

She had only a moment of hesitation before she placed her hand upon the doorknob and let the heavy wood swing outwards, tempting her inside. The wind screamed as she stepped into the cabin, adding to the dread that was slowly building inside her.

The door slammed shut behind her, making Y/N jump. “Jesus Christ.” She muttered to herself, eager to hear something besides the frantic beating of her heart. The candle flickered, the wick almost completely gone now.

There came a groan from the darkness, it was weak and sickly like the sound a dying animal would make in its last moments. A shuddering breath escaped her lungs as Y/N tried to pinpoint where the sound had come from.

She would kill Heimdall if he sent her to the den of some monster. Holding out her trembling hand, she focused as best she could on her palm, allowing for a small flame to grow just above the middle of her hand.

Slowly, more of the cabin became illuminated revealing a large fireplace with a small kitchenette beside it, a shelf stuffed with books and a single bed pushed into the far corner. A mass of blankets sat on top of the mattress, moving slightly as another groan echoed through the room.

Now less frightened, Y/N quietly inched to the bed. The pile shifted again, revealing the top of their head. Raven hair fanned out over the pillow beneath them. Y/N held her breath as she gently pulled back the covers with her free hand.

“Oh Loki.” This was the boy she loved so long ago, all grown up.

He was so infallibly human, pale skin free from any of the dark markings she had remembered. A long nose and high cheekbones made him even more regal, if it wasn't for the gauntness of his cheeks and the almost bruise-like dark circles beneath his eyes.

She let herself touch his forehead but quickly pulled away when she felt the extreme chill that his skin held. This was far colder than she had ever seen from him before. He could barely move as he unconsciously leaned into her warmth.

“Shit. We have to get you warmed up.” Quickly, Y/N tucked the blankets around him again before she scurried over to the fireplace, praying that there was any sort of firewood around.

Loki groaned as she moved away. “I know, just a minute.” She gave a small shout of triumph as she found a few logs in the kitchen cabinet. Throwing them into the hearth with very little grace and fell to her knees. Wrapping a hand around one of the pieces of wood in the centre of the pile, she took a deep breath.

Heat raced through her veins and far easier than ever before, fire bloomed from her skin, setting the wood alight. She sighed in relief as the cabin's air began to warm up but not nearly quick enough for her taste.

She looked back at her husband who's dark brows were now scrunched together as if he were in pain while he continued to shiver violently. Rising to her feet, Y/N stripped off her sweater and shorts, leaving her only in her underwear as she approached the bed once more.

Loki's body trembled with the cold as she pulled back the sheets, but stopped as soon as she slipped behind him, curling her soft body around him as best she could. One arm wound around his stomach, her palm coming to rest right above his heart as her other hand slid beneath the pillow and his head, almost cradling him.

He was so weak, barely a glimmer of the man she married remained as the fever ravaged him. It would have been easy to walk right back out of that door and let him die for the things that he did. But instead, her arms tightened around his body.

She couldn't leave him, not when he refused to abandon her, not when his very presence soothed the rage sea of fire within her.

“Just rest now, I'll take care of you.” She placed a kiss on his temple then shut her eyes, her mind finally at peace.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” Her voice called out to him through a fog. Loki smiled and pried his eyes open to see his wife standing before a roaring fire, an open book in her hands. She only wore a shirt of his and nothing else, leaving very little to the imagination which he was incredibly grateful for.

“The gods must have smiled upon me to grant me such a dream.” He murmured, happily settling back into the bed to watch what he believed to be his last moments. “I have missed you so, little star. I do hope that you are safe and that you are happy without me.”

The book snapped shut and he raised an eyebrow at her, making her put the book back upon the shelf so he could have her undivided attention. “This isn't a dream.” She stated firmly but Loki just laughed weakly under his breath.

“This must be a dream because I know you would never come back, not after I've done so much evil.” Her steps were light as she walked back to him. He opened his arms to her, willing this apparition to grant him one last shred of comfort.

But she did not obey, instead she took his hand and laid it upon her breast, letting him feel the heat of her skin and the beating of her heart. “I am real. I am here. And you have been a complete bastard but you are my husband and it is my duty to be beside you and keep you from making any more stupid decisions.”

She released her hold on his wrist but Loki's touch remained firmly planted on her as if to convince himself that this was, in fact, real. “I am not dead?”

“Not as far as I can tell.” She replied.

“And you are here with me?”

“Took the Bifrost myself.” Y/N traced the line of his jaw carefully as if her touch could break him. “You've been so sick, burning a fever that I almost couldn't stop. I've been here for days and this is the first time you've been coherent enough to realise that you weren't alone anymore.”

The crackle of the fire masked the sound of yet another storm outside, providing the lost prince with a comfort he had not felt since she was last in his arms. "Thank you.” He whispered, though it was not just for her healing hand. Loki nuzzled into her touch as his own still felt the strong beat of her heart.

He stopped for a moment then spoke once more. “Why did you come back, really?”

Loki watched with bated breath as Y/N sighed deeply, seemingly lost in her own thoughts as she struggled to answer him. Unable to help himself, his hands wandered down to her wide hips and cupped them softly. “I remember you- this you.” Her fingertips brushed along his cheekbone, his now green eyes gazing up at her with reverence.

“I remember that first summer when I met you. You were so small then, but of course so was I. You were always so kind to me, telling me stories of heroes and gods. Then you would leave, for weeks, sometimes months and I often wondered if I had just dreamed you up. Mom said you were real because I believed in you but not all mothers indulge their children.” She chuckled and her fingers moved to his hair, tangling themselves in the soft locks.

She let him pull her closer so that his chin could rest upon her sternum, having to bend slightly forward so that his head would not connect to her collarbone, even in his human form Loki still towered over her. Her brow crinkled. “But I forgot you. And yet, that feeling of home, of safety, of love still remained, even when I hated your guts and you kept me locked in that stupid fucking bedroom.” He groaned into her skin.

“I won't apologise for that.” He grumbled.

“I know.” She cooed. “It was all so confusing and terrifying, I couldn't recall what was real and what was because of my broken mind but you were there and in your own way, you helped me. Your rules, your temper, your teachings- all of it grounded me, let me realise that I could trust in something if I couldn't trust myself.”

“And what is that?” His words were a mere breath of air as Y/N took his hands into her own, her warmth and his chill blending together perfectly, and guided him to his feet. He obeyed easily, only stumbling for a moment as his body struggled to remain upright after being in bed for weeks.

“That I love you.” His eyes flicked over her face, almost searching for any sign of deceit but when he found none, his control shattered.

Her lips were just as soft as he remembered, just as addictive, as he kissed her gently. He could feel the beginnings of her smile but it quickly dropped as his hands fell to her wide hips, pinning her to his front.

Y/N gasped into his mouth, allowing his tongue to snake between her lips. Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling at the fine fabric, desperate to get him even closer. Molten heat pooled between her soft thighs as his hardness grew against her soft stomach.

“My princess, do you wish for this to go further?” She moaned at the sincerity of his tone, so different from Steve's. She could help but nod frantically.

“Yes master, I need you.” It was so easy to slip backwards, let him take all of the responsibility and control but Loki's grip tightened while he forced himself from her lips.

“No, not this time. It's just us, the way it should have been so long ago.” The tip of his nose brushed against hers gently in reverence. “Just you and me, nothing more.”

Her smile widened as her eyes sparkled with adoration. “Yes, I want to be with you Loki.” His expression melted.

“You are everything.” This time his kiss was far more desperate. His touch seemed to be everywhere, exploring every part of her that he could while refusing to part from her swollen lips.

Her arms wound around his neck as Loki's hands traced up the soft skin of her thighs, slipping beneath her shirt before coming to a stop right where her legs met her hips.

He froze and then a growl rumbled through his chest. “You weren't fucking wearing anything under this?” He hissed, making her giggle softly.

“What, it's not like you keep a healthy stock of panties here and I spent three days nursing you back to health.”

“Fuck.” He groaned and before she could even yelp, he turned and threw her onto the bed, knocking most of the pillows off with the force of it. “You delectable temptress, you have enchanted me.”

His own shirt was quickly shed, revealing to her a lean but muscular torso decorated with faint silvery lines of scars and hairless save for a trail of it leading to a dark thatch of it right at the axis of his hips.

At the sight, Y/N squeezed her thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction to ease her aching cunt. His black trousers were pulled tight with the weight of his cock which was getting harder by the second.

“Come here husband.” She held her arms open to him, mirroring the way he had done for her mere minutes before.

Green eyes stared deeply into her own e/c ones as Loki slowly placed his hands on either side of her calves and began to crawl up the length of her body, forcing her legs apart in order to slip his body between them.

He caught one of her thighs against his knee and as his face finally levelled with hers, he pushed her leg forwards, leaving her bare and vulnerable to him. Only a thin layer of fabric kept them apart now. “Anything for you, wife.”

His breath fanned across her lips, his raven hair hanging down like a curtain that sealed them away from the rest of the realms. No more words were needed, everything that he wanted to tell her and she him was caught in the lustful gaze that neither wished to break.

Her leg tightened around his slim hip, pulling him impossibly closer. Their moans wove together like wisps of smoke as his still covered cock pressed against her pussy.

Leaning his weight onto one hand, Loki's other slipped between them, all-too eager to finally have her.

Y/N lifted her head to kiss him once more as slender fingers cupped her mound. “Loki.” Her hips bucked, trying to get him to move faster to the place she needed him most but he would not budge.

“Patience my star, I do not wish to hurt you.” But his voice wavered with his effort to stop himself from taking her right then. She whined pitifully, now growing desperate for some kind of relief.

“I don't care, I just want you.” His head dropped to the crook of her neck as he groaned. “Please, do not make me beg.” She could feel his control begin to wane even as he drew closer to her dripping entrance.

His teeth nipped at her skin in warning but of course she would not heed it. “I'm a god, you cannot hurt me.” She tried one last time.

Loki chuckled, his back shifting beneath her hands. “Well then, perhaps I shouldn't deprive my princess of what she so clearly wants any more.” She could barely bite back her whine as he pulled away from her.

The ties to his trousers loosened with barely a flick of his wrist, releasing himself from the now entirely too-tight confines of the fabric. He let out a sigh of relief then shucked the pants down his legs as best he could without adding anymore space between them.

His cock rested between her lips teasingly, the chill from him sending pleasured goosebumps across her body. Loki pressed the head against her entrance. “Are you sure?” He asked once more, his tone now entirely soft.

“I've never been more sure of anything.”

The stretch was unlike anything she had felt before, carrying with it a sharp pinch of pain and a mind-numbing fullness that had her jaw dropping in a silent scream. He was carving out his place inside of her, marking her as eternally his.

“By the gods.” He snarled through clenched teeth. “You are tight.” The muscles in his back rippled as he tentatively pushed forwards, forcing another inch inside her already stuffed cunt. Her back arched into his chest in some desperate attempt to make more room for his monstrous cock.

“Big.” Was all she could gasp out through pressure in her stomach. Loki's hips stuttered and suddenly he was fully seated within her, his heavy balls tightly pressed to her ass as the base of his pelvis shone with the sheer amount of wetness that had been dripping from her.

He pressed his mouth to her lips in a messy kiss as he tried to regain some semblance of control. “That's it, that's my good girl. You took it all so well. I'm so proud of you.”

Her pussy rippled around him at the praise. “Princess.” He moaned and unable to stop himself any longer, Loki pulled out just a couple inches and then thrust back into her warmth quickly.

It sent shockwaves of pleasure up her spine and pushed the pain to the back of her mind. Her heel dug into his back. “More.” She cried. “Please, more!”

Her whole body jolted up the mattress with his next thrust and she wailed into the air. “Whatever you wish, my star. I would do everything for you.”

Tears rolled down her temples as he gripped her waist, keeping her body still for him to plunder. “You are more divine than the heavens, than any dream that my broken mind could conjure.”

He hit that special place inside her that forced the air from her lungs and made her vision spot with blackness as ecstasy curled around the base of his spine. “My pet.”

He thrust again. “My princess.”

Her nails sliced into his shoulders as her body wound tight. “My guiding star.”

His hips lost their rhythm for a moment and Y/N was finally able to choke out- “My Loki.”

Their ends collided together in a storm of epic proportions as they held each other close, unwilling to let go of their most precious possession.

“I love you.” Loki managed to say between breaths.

“I love you.” She responded immediately. He looked down at her, seemingly unable to find anything else to say until his eyes dropped to where her shirt had exposed her chest.

The silver of the necklace glinted brilliantly in the dying firelight, shining like a star. “You- you didn't take it off.”

Her gaze followed his own and then travelled back to his face. “Not even for a second.”

And as their lips met once more, Loki thought that if this was a dream, he wished to never awaken again.

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3sloth @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @km-ffluv

172 notes · View notes

b1ackbunny · 6 months

Text

TAKE IT ALL

A Monika Shin Oneshot

paring: gf!monika shin x fem!reader

synopsis: you and monika have been dating for years. she’s been your person since the beginning, and you’ve been hers. for the past few months, you’ve barely talked to her, much less seen her although you two live together. she’s been caught up with work and you’ve been understanding. that was until she forgot about your fourth anniversary.

word count: ≈ 2.4k

warnings: ANGST!!!, like I’m talking gut wrenching, nausea, strong language, feelings are hurt, mention of knives, monika is a d1 asshole here, angst with sad ending, if my english is bad here I'm sorry

masterlist

a/n: this is so self-indulgent bc I've been feening for some angst 🧎‍♀️ also I was listening to adele and sam smith while writing this so I hope y’all enjoy 🫶🏽 my heart physically hurted writing this I’m so proud (pun intended)

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The obnoxious ticking of the timepiece above the door constantly sounded, finding humor in your current situation. It was a little after 10 o'clock at night, and you were still waiting for your girlfriend to return.

Sure, the past few months have been a little rocky, but you've been understanding. Her schedule has been hectic with different events to attend, choreographies to work on, and classes to teach.

But this was different. You’ve tried as hard as you could to stay supportive and compassionate, though the minimal communication was eating you alive. You’ve tried so hard to give her the benefit of the doubt.

But this was different. It was your fourth anniversary and where was the woman you were supposed to be spending it with? Nowhere to be found. Except, that’s not entirely correct.

You knew where she was. You saw it on Lip J’s Instagram story a few hours ago. She had gone out with a couple of friends to a nightclub downtown, ignoring each and every one of your calls.

At this point, you were more tired than mad, but you were still very aggravated. You and Monika had only talked to each other once today, on one of the most special days in your year.

It was that morning when you passed each other in the kitchen. You asked her to come home earlier because you had something “special” planned for her. She agreed before kissing you goodbye and walking out the door.

There were no signs that she had forgotten what today was. None at all. You went the whole day giddy and excited about that afternoon. Your co-workers teased you for your excitement, but nothing they could say was able to wipe the smile off of your face.

After work, you stopped by the grocery store to pick up ingredients for the special dinner you planned to make for the two of you. Ironically, it was Monika’s favorite dish. You had to substitute some factors for the second-best thing since the store ran out, but it still tasted the same.

You rushed home to begin cooking the meal before she got back. You were even dancing around the kitchen while cooking and looking back, you feel like an idiot at your excitement. At around 6:30ish, you sent her a text asking if she was on her way and received no reply.

You shrugged it off and started setting the table, assuming that she was finishing up her last class. After thirty minutes you decided to text her again and received no reply.

That's when you started calling, but she didn't pick up. You begin feeling worried, the worst scenarios coming to mind. You called around and found out that Monika was safe and healthy, but just not picking up your phone calls.

This is when you started feeling irritated. Your girlfriend of four years was ignoring you on your anniversary and it made your blood boil. But then, (maybe it was the delusional part of you that took control) you started to think she was just pulling a prank on you.

She would burst through the door at any moment now with a gift and your favorite flowers in tow, a bright cheesy smile adorning her features. But when you saw Lip J’s story, your fantasies came to a halt.

Now, you were sitting at the decorated table alone. The food had gone cold a while ago and the slow-melting candles were lighting your emotionless face. You were hurt. How dare she? How could she?

Every year without fail, neither of you had ever forgotten this sacred day. No matter the amount of work either of you had, you made sure to make time for each other on this day.

So this just confirmed how rocky things had recently been. You were lost in your thoughts when from the corner of your eye, you saw the door open. Your gaze slowly trailed from the wall to the front door where Monika had walked in.

You felt nauseous, the hurt and heartache getting to you. “I made you dinner.” You emotionlessly stated as Monika locked the door. She turned toward your seated figure and glanced at the table before looking back at the door.

“I'm not hungry,” Monika muttered, exchanging her shoes for her slippers by the door. You scoffed and humorlessly chuckled, pouring yourself a glass of wine.

Monika directed her gaze back toward you, finally taking notice of the tense environment. With a sigh, she dropped her duffel bag on the couch, mumbled a ‘fine’, and moved toward the table.

Before sitting down, she dipped her head to kiss your cheek. But, before she was able to reach it, you moved your head out of the way. She looked at you with furrowed brows and tried again, but you repeated your motions.

Her eyes darted across your face, observing your stone-cold expression before giving up and sitting in her seat. She took a bite of her serving and instantly started criticizing, “It's cold.” “Something tastes different.”

You mindlessly hummed at her statements, taking a sip of wine and keeping your eyes trained on the picture that hung on the wall behind her. Funny enough, it was a picture of you two on your second anniversary.

The two of you took a week-long vacation to Jeju Island in honor of that special day. How things have changed. “Interesting choice of wine…” Monika mumbled and that's when you decided you had enough.

You pushed your chair out and stood up, taking both plates and moving toward the trash bin. “What the fuck is your problem?” Monika exclaimed as she followed your figure.

You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your lips, dropping the plates onto the counter above the bin. “What's my problem? I made your favorite fucking food and all you did was critic every aspect of it.

There was no ‘thank you’ or ‘I appreciate you slaving away in the fucking kitchen for me as soon as you got home from work’.” You stressed every syllable, dropping the food in the trash as your voice grew louder.

“Is that what this is about? The food?” You were quick to respond to Monika’s words, spinning towards her after you reached the sink. “It's not about the food! Don't you see? I wanted to spend time with you today!

I asked you to come home early today and what did you do? You went to a fucking nightclub with your friends.” You're voice cracked a little, and you wanted to slap yourself for getting this vulnerable.

The look on Monika’s face only got you more heated. It was obvious she found your statement unreasonable as she let out a dry laugh. “Wow, I didn't know I couldn't spend time with my friends anymore. Why are you being so fucking clingy?”

Monika’s words felt like a bullet straight to your heart and your eyes began to water. You kept your tears at bay but the glisten in your eyes revealed the truth. “Stop it. I'm not being clingy. You agreed to come home early today and you didn't.” Your voice got dangerously low as you approached the other side of the kitchen island that Monika was behind.

“Well, sue me for wanting to have a little fun. I didn't know I had to be with you every second of the day.” Monika’s voice rose as she spewed her words covered in sarcasm. “But you're not! You're not here with me every second of the day. You're not even with me for an hour a week.” You cried out.

“So what? Just because I don't see you every day means I can't have a social life? Newsflash, I have a life outside of you, y/n.” Monika matched your volume, slightly leaning over the table.

“That’s not what I’m saying. You're not even listening to me! We're a couple, Monika! When you say you're going to be home early to spend the evening with one another, you're supposed to mean it!” No matter how loud you talked, you couldn't get through to her.

“You’re being ridiculous! Since I’m dating you, I can’t have any friends?” “That’s not what I’m saying! You’re twisting my words.” “It’s like you’re dating me to control me. Is that what it is?” You were shocked by the words that your girlfriend was saying.

Is that how she truly felt or was she just saying that from the anger? More tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you slowly shook your head. “You don’t mean that.” Monika rounded the counter to step closer to you, but it was like she was a stranger.

You couldn't recognize the woman standing in front of you. “Oh, I mean it. I've been nothing but good to you and this is how you treat me? I can't have fun with my friends and I have to be with you whenever I'm not working?” You took a couple of steps back at Monika’s words.

“Stop.” You breathed out, gripping the edge of the counter. You were starting to feel nauseous again. “Stop what? Telling the truth? It was like you came into my life to ruin it. Is that what you want?

To ruin my life? Because you are. You're making a fucking hellhole out of it.” Monika yelled and her words cut like knives. The tears started to slowly glide down your face. “Don’t be a bully. You're being a bully.” Your tone was hushed and you couldn't take your eyes off of Monika’s.

It was like they had an iron grip on you. Her walls were up, and it was clear she was in defense mode. Nothing you could say or do could bring them down.

“This isn't how tonight was supposed to go. I just wanted to spend time with you today. That's all I wanted. I didn't want to wait around like an idiot for you.” Your gaze flickered between Monika’s eyes and you saw nothing had changed.

“No, you wanted to ambush me. This was an ambush.” You let out a heavy sigh at what your girlfriend had said, wiping the tears away. “No that is not what this is. Monika, please listen to me. There's been this distance between us for the past couple of months and I've been trying so hard to be understanding-”

Monika was quick to cut you off. “What happened to make you act like this? You've never been this unbearable throughout the entirety of our relationship, so what changed?”

There was a moment of silence where you just looked down at the floor. You contemplated even bringing up today to the stranger standing in front of you. Your breaths were shallow as you looked back into Monika’s unwavering gaze.

“Do you even remember what today is?” Monika rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “What? Are you going to lie and say it's your birthday? Because we both know-” This time you were the one to cut her off, your voice low and as steady as it could be given the tears you were holding back for dear life. “It's our anniversary.”

A prolonged pause occurred and the silence was deafening. You saw Monika’s eyes soften at the revelation. “Baby, I'm so sorry. With work and everything-”

“Don’t start with the bullshit excuses, Monika. I have work too, we both do. I'm not just sitting at home twiddling my thumbs waiting for you to come home.” Your voice was steady and you scoffed at the solemn look on Monika’s features.

There was a whirlwind of emotions you were feeling, the most prominent were agitation, sadness, hurt, and exhaustion. “I carved time out of my day to make today special and all I asked was for you to come home early, to which you agreed but didn't live up to your word.” Monika was silent now and her eyes seemed to grow glossy.

She moved closer to you, reaching to grab your hand but you moved away from her before she could do so. “C'mon, can we talk about this tomorrow? We're both tired-” You shook your head, instantly shutting down Monika’s idea.

“No, we’re going to talk about this now. Do you even realize the shit you said to me? How hurt my feelings are?” Your eyes squinted in disbelief as all Monika could do in response was swallow and spew fake apologies. You shook your head and looked at Monika. Like, really looked at her.

You still couldn't recognize the person she had become. You regained your composure and took a deep breath. It was your turn to stop being vulnerable and start building your walls back up.

“I think we should take a break.” Monika looked completely bewildered at your words. “What do you mean? No, we're not doing that. Absolutely not.” Monika grabbed your hands before you could move them away, holding them to her mouth and kissing them as she spoke.

Your eyes began to gloss over again and you shook your head, slowly pulling your hands from Monika’s grasp. “We have to. It might be that we've been together for too long, but what you said today… I know you meant it. At least a little bit.” Tears started to roll down both of your faces and Monika quickly shook her head, spewing ‘no’s’ and apologies.

Although the two of you were standing face to face, you couldn't be farther apart. You wiped her tears and stared at her before moving toward the shared bedroom. You felt horrible inside, the sick feeling that never left was more prominent. You grabbed your wallet and keys before moving back toward the main section of the apartment.

Monika was still begging you to stay, saying how she would change and how she was sorry but you couldn't stay. After tonight, there was a cement wedge pushed between you two that would take a lot of work to get rid of.

You still loved her, that was a given, but you needed some time to heal before mending your relationship. You unlocked the door and looked back at the girl.

She was still crying and you almost listened to your heart that told you to stay, but your mind was too loud. You caressed her cheek and wiped the tears that spilled, leaving her with a teary smile before leaving the apartment.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

#b1ackbunny writes #monika shin #monika prowdmon #prowdmon #street woman fighter 1 #street woman fighter #monika swf #monika shin x reader #monika x reader #monika shin x fem reader #monika x fem reader #monika shin x y/n #monika x y/n #angst #shin jung woo #Spotify

160 notes · View notes