#we will never be friends... for I am my enemies lover
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lullabyes22-blog · 1 day ago
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hi <3
i am once again asking your thoughts on the latest act of arcane?
Honestly, my feelings on S2 so far are pretty mixed.
:')
On the one hand, visually, it's absolutely heartstopping. The cinematography is incredible, and it's the first time in a while where every episode felt like an experience I had to endure in a good way. Plus the score, the voice-acting, and the sound design is, as usual, top notch.
Buuuut when you have all these stellar spheres working on this show, it makes the areas where they drop the ball stand out.
For me, that's the plot.
Alot of folks have criticized the pacing and how there's too much piled into one season. Personally, at this point I've made peace with the breakneck speed and sort of taken it as a given in a series where 'War' is the overarching theme. I can even let go of the fact that certain plot beats don't feel earned, as there's so much subtlety and foreshadowing that you can easily make the case for them via long-drawn out analyses of every frame.
But the writing, ohhhh boy. The writing. It feels like there's a disconnect between the overall plot and the individual character moments.
It's really hard to articulate, but I'll do my best.
I love that we're getting so much characterization for the main cast. Every episode, it feels like there's a new layer peeled back, and each of our leads has an opportunity to shine.
And that's exactly the problem. They're all shining.
Separately.
When I think about it, the reason why S1 worked so well was because every episode gave us a glimpse into the mind of someone different. We got a taste of what it was like to be in the head of every major player in the cast, and through this, we grew to understand their motivations, their fears, their hopes. I've used the 'gem' analogy in previous reviews, and the way the show handled that concept was amazing. Every character was a facet of the gem that was Arcane, and each shift of PoV allowed us to see them from a new angle.
There was coherence. There was cohesion. And there was a sense of complexity told in a concise and well-planned format.
S2, for me, doesn't quite work the same way.
It's not that I don't understand the characters, or that I don't appreciate the way they're handled. It's just that their individual journeys are so self-contained. I'm not getting a sense of their interpersonal connections. More as if they're crashing into and out of each other's lives, without ever stopping to have a proper conversation.
It's a common complaint with ensemble casts, and I don't mind it for the most part, but the problem here is that Arcane has been very careful about establishing its characters as part of a cohesive whole. They're not just random individuals who happen to share a stage. They're siblings, lovers, colleagues, friends, enemies, etc. And the reason why we can relate to them is because, on some level, they mirror our own relationships. We've seen how they treat each other, and we've come to care about them.
But in this season, I feel like there's been a failure to communicate.
Scenes between characters feel like a series of disconnected vignettes, some of which are great and some of which are not so great. It's as if the writers are trying to force the characters to react to the plot rather than the other way around.
I don't want to be overly critical. So much love and effort has gone into making this show, and I'd never want to disparage the efforts of so many talented artists.
But, yeah. Coherence is a bit of an issue.
I will say, however, that re: the subject of grief, especially in Jinx's journey, this season has delivered some beautiful moments. It's a surprisingly nuanced treatment of a complicated and ugly emotion, and it's something I wish more shows would tackle. The problem with a lot of modern storytelling is that, because it's trying so hard to be edgy, complex and subversive, it doesn't really leave any room for just letting characters exist. And Jinx's arc in particular is a perfect example of this.
I was worried, going into the season, that they'd take the easy route and paint her as a pure monster, utterly deranged from her loss. That's what the fandom seems to want, anyway, and it's what you'd probably expect given the general climate.
But instead, the show has chosen for Jinx to be vulnerable, and to let her arc be honest. Granted, Isha, though she's adorable, still doesn't quite feel like a full-fleshed out person, but Jinx's bond with her has been written with such heartbreaking realism that I'm inclined to forgive the former for the sake of the latter. It's just refreshing to see the series not to take that insulting and reductive 'but Jinx is crazy' route, and instead allow her to grapple with the pain of losing her family and the horror of what she's done, but to also heal old wounds with brand-new connections.
'Crazy' does not mean 'irredeemable.'
And it's about time more mainstream media got this memo.
The series also continues to be stellar at showcasing so much with such restraint. A lot of the scenes don't last longer than a few minutes, and yet you can feel so much conveyed in that brief window. And the framing and composition is consistently masterful.
Overall, though, I'm a bit underwhelmed by this season so far. It feels like an incomplete masterpiece, and the sense that the narrative has lost control is starting to get overwhelming. We've still got Act 3 left, and I'm hoping the final stretch is able to tie things together a little more neatly.
Anyway, thank you for reading this mess! And feel free to share your thoughts as well. I'm curious to hear how other people are finding the series.
<3
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sadceline · 3 days ago
Text
THE ENHYPEN HOST || 20
|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS
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WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes.
GENRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers
TRAILER 3
PREVIOUS CHAPTER:
FIRST CHAPTER:
“Like a drama, huh?” I exclaim, after several minutes in silence.
Sunghoon took me to an ice skating rink, actually I should have expected that. More like I didn't expect him to take me there.
“Korean men are pretty mundane, but it still works.” Sighs Hoon.
Since we walked in, his expression has become more serene, which shouldn't surprise me, after all I know well that this is his past, that before he became an idol he was a promising artist skater, yet I find myself looking for his expression so peaceful watching the rink.
“Why did you bring me here? I don't even know how to skate.” “I suspected as much, so I can teach you.” I turn all red, inevitably. “T-Then it's really like in dramas…. What is this, a date?” I laugh nervously. Sunghoon stares at me, turned sad again. “It would be nice if it was, wouldn't it?”
Park Sunghoon rented the entire rink, as in kdramas, brought me here with the intention of spending time together, as in dramas dates, yet I still don't understand what he's getting at - really.
“Why are we here, Sunghoon?” I ask again.
He walks up to me, grabs me by the wrist gently and leads me to benches where two pairs of skates are already resting. I am curious and surprised, also because he did not ask me what my shoe size was, yet the size is right. Does that mean he checked for himself while I was getting ready? This is a nice thing….
“I wanted to let you know that I'm not completely a shit. I tend to be less of a shit when I'm in places I like, doing things I like, with people I like.”
I am a human being, lord in heaven, how am I supposed to react while Park Sunghoon says such nice things, kneeling in front of me to help me put on my skates? I can't look away from him, my heart beats as if fireworks are exploding inside my chest.
“Do you like me? As a person?” “I'm not sure. - He snorts, proudly, clutching the straps of his skates. - I'd like to understand that.” “And do you have an idea... what you want?” “Currently - he answers quickly - I just want to teach you how to skate.”
That's not an answer, but it's okay, I guess.
“You're acting weird.” I smile amusedly as he laces up his skates. He seems to smile back, then turns serious. “Treasure these memories, you'll probably never see me so kind again.”
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This looks like the usual Sunghoon, and for some reason this reassures me.
When he gets up, he takes me by the hand and leads me to the rink. He tells me to pay attention as he shows me how to move my legs so I don't fall. As I watch him behind the little wall that separates the floor from the frozen floor, Sunghoon begins to skate with more confidence, moving away from me to make a full circle of the rink.
I look at him and can't help smiling. He looks happy as a child, a gruff child who barely hints at smiling, but to see such an expression on Hoon's face is fantastic.
I feel like catching up with him, but I'm not sure if I can.
I start walking, holding on to the dividers, actually managing to keep my balance well. He is too far away, too distracted, surely he hasn't skated in a long time and will want to catch up a bit.
“Look what I can do!” He calls to me, excited.
I turn to be speechless when Sunghoon leaps up doing three piruettes on himself, before balancing perfectly on the rink again.
“Fuck! I'm too good!” He says it to himself. I burst out laughing. “You're also modest!” I yell at him. Sunghoon flashes a smirk as he approaches me. “I'm just being realistic. Do you know how long it's been since I did that? Years!” I can't stop smiling, I like this expression he gives me, I like his genuine tone. “Don't do it anymore though, if you get hurt it's a problem.” “I might get some rest.” He sighs amusedly, taking me by both hands and forcing me to let go of the dividers. “I'm not ready to skate without holding on yet!” I point out to him. “Then hold on to me.”
Needless to say, my chest implodes, my brain smoking, as I stare at him bewildered. He pulls me toward the center of the rink, not noticing that I am staring at him so intently.
“You really like skating, huh?” “More than being an idol.” He admits, sounding sincere. “Do you really think so? “ Hoon watches me then sighs. “I don't. It wasn't my decision to be an idol, though.”
Revealing something of this caliber, Sunghoon continues to hold me by one hand, but the other moves it to my side and then stands behind me.
“Didn't you say it was your choice?” I ask him, since that is what he has said on several public occasions. I can feel his breath on my neck as he gently nudges me to skate. “I never opposed it, but it was my parents who wanted it. Now I haven't seen them in a very long time, but they are still happy that I am here.” “They think it was the best thing for you, don't they?” “What parent who loves his child leads him to become an idol? - He asks sarcastically. - Everyone in Korea knows how we live, they knew it too. Just being a champion wasn't enough.”
I turn away, it will be gruesome but I want to see Sunghoon's expression, I want to see if he shows signs of pain, of sorrow, and honestly, I wish I could console him.
But Sunghoon is cold, his face is calm and relaxed, perhaps because he is no longer suffering from this now. Yet I can perfectly see his saddened eyes, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
"You're not happy, are you?" "There is no such thing as happiness, Amanda."
It is not that he is sad when he says this, which is really sad, so I stand there staring at him confused and bitter.
After a while, when I have started to move my feet on the icy rink on my own, Sunghoon tries a few more laps and shows me that he hasn't lost his skating skills at all; in fact, he has maintained them perfectly.
I thought I'd do worse, but my brain probably still remembers how to skate on rollerblades, even though it's been at least ten years since I've used them, and maybe I only used them a few times as a kid.
He comes over, moves gracefully and confidently, watches me, and approaches me again. "You haven't fallen yet." He notes. I smile embarrassed. "You should be happy. Then I won't bother you and you can enjoy yourself." Sunghoon looks at me with a really puzzled expression, I get the impression that he thinks I'm a fool, but I don't understand why. "Do you think I can't come by myself if I feel like it?" I blink, curious. "So?" "So I'll wait for you to fall."
I am completely stunned by these words, why on earth would he want me to fall? I don't know, maybe it's some strange perversion of his, but I'm not so much frightened as amused. I back away with difficulty as he begins to reach out and grab me with a grin on his face.
"Stop!" I burst out laughing and move awkwardly. On the contrary, the icy rink is his realm; he reaches me without difficulty. "You just have to fall a little! Why do you have to be so good?" "By nature I am good at many things." I answer, although a second later I realize that this sentence could very well have many other meanings. In fact, he seems to take a few of them and gets a little annoyed in his face as he closes the distance between us by grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward him. "Oh yeah? - he asks me in a whisper. - And what else are you good at?"
I swallow, he is so close that I don't know whether to look at his eyes or his beautiful lips, but luckily I don't have time to decide, because Sunghoon grabs me by the hips and pushes me to the ground, using his own arms to break my fall. The result is that even though I'm not hurt, I land on the floor and he straddles me.
"W-What are you doing? You'll freeze your knees." I say. Sunghoon watches me in silence for a few seconds, then sighs tiredly. "Do you feel cold?"
Not really. This situation has certainly warmed my poor confused body, which biologically cannot avoid burning for him. His wistful, cold eyes, his beautiful lips, and those elegant, beautiful little moles on his face, he's someone you can't get tired of looking at.
"No…" I answer under my breath. "I don't know how things are going to be from now on. - He says in a stern tone, looking at me. - But it's not bad being here with you." "Did you ever go skating with Wonyoung?" He seems surprised by my question, but quickly composes himself and clears his voice. "Yes, I suggested it to her. She can't skate and was afraid of getting hurt, so we didn't go."
Basically, what do I care? Why did I ask him? And why should I feel sad when he obviously asked his incredible, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend to go skating? It was the obvious thing to do.
Should I have just been happy to know that being here was "not bad"?
"Why did you bring me here?"
Sunghoon seems to have had enough of my questions, so he silences me by kissing. He cups my face with both palms as he pushes himself toward me, stealing kiss after kiss from me, even though I seem well disposed to give them. Sunghoon kisses like I would expect from a prince, as they call him, he is elegant even when he puts his tongue in my mouth.
He sucks on my lips and I, who shouldn't be doing this, stretch my hands over his arms covered by the denim jacket he wears, clinging to him as I try to breathe, but still not wanting to interrupt this moment. I long for it so much that I don't realize how serious such a thing is.
It would be enough to think of Heeseung to wake me up from this spell, but Sunghoon's presence in this moment is so heavy that I can't think.
I just feel that I want him.
The crotch of his jeans has swelled, I noticed in passing, and his hands have also become more impatient, but I hope he won't do it on the ice….
"I think bringing you here is the worst of my mistakes." He admits after pulling away.
It shouldn't, but it hurts. I notice he's started to stare at me, but even though I look back, I can't say anything.
"Don't you care?"
He is always so sad, I realize now.
"I wish I could say what I want." I admit, this time I am the sad one. "Here, you and I can be whoever we want to be."
My eyes are probably speaking, but I don't know what they're saying, although I can see that his reaction is to kiss me again. I am cold, but my heart is warm.
I put a hand on his chest and push him away.
"But then we'll get out of here."
Sunghoon gets angry and kisses me again, harder. I can't resist him right away, I'm so stunned by his touch, then I try to wriggle out, meekly at first, but he doesn't seem to want to let go, instead he lunges at me.
"So what?" He asks in a whisper as he starts to bite my earlobe.
A shiver runs through my body and I feel a sting, first in my stomach, then between my legs, and it is intense, impetuous, like the kisses he gives me.
I try to push him, I don't know with what force either, however, this irritates him to the point that he grabs both my wrists, pinning them at my face level. He watches me, but I can only glimpse his eyes behind the thick bangs.
“Don't refuse me.” “D-Don't..” I look away. He lets go of my wrist to grab my face, cupping my cheeks and forcing me to look at him. “Don't refuse me, Amanda.” “Why shouldn't I?” I ask through clenched teeth. “Reject me for anyone, for Jake, for fucking Jay, but not for Heeseung.” He raises his voice, but I'm not afraid.
He... his eyes glaze over.
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"You're not really interested in me, are you? - I ask again and he lets go. - You just want to take away who you think he wants". Sunghoon's face gets even darker. "No, you're an idiot."
I honestly stand there stunned (again), my body growing colder while my chest is warmed by these new faces I discover from Sunghoon.
"It's just that he has everything! For once I'm the one who wants something?"
Is he admitting that he wants me or is he calling me "thing"? Either way, why don't I react appropriately, as I should, by pushing him away? He hides his eyes and his mouth is turned down, looking so sad at me.
"It is not his fault that he was born with many talents. - I say, and I can barely see Sunghoon's offended look. - But it's not your fault either. You're not angry with him." "Yes, I damn well am - he replies, getting up from the floor and pulling me up by my wrists - I'm mad at him. Only he would pay the debt?" "Only he said he would... in front of all of you." I remind him, sighing and turning away. I do not want to hear his words, or I am sure I will give up. He comes closer and squeezes my wrist, forcing me to look at him more closely. "Maybe he just said it in front of you."
I stare at him, at a loss for words for the umpteenth time. He has to stop saying the right things, he has to stop saying them with this face, with this level of perfection, elegance.
He really looks like a prince, I can't stop staring at him. Even the wound that I will ignore, the wound that Heeseung caused him and which is essential not to show too much concern… seems to be drawn, part of the make-up, even the imperfections become perfect on him.
Fortunately, he is the first to seek my lips, and that is the only thing I can use to defend myself, because I want his mouth so badly that I cling to his shoulders, to his stupid leather jacket, for the umpteenth time.
He does not release his grip, on the contrary, he continues and pushes me to the bench, where I fall, sitting down. He takes off his jacket and stares at me seriously.
"Today is my turn, don't refuse me." He repeats this to me again, then bends down to take off his skates, and while kneeling in front of me, he starts to take off mine as well. "Sunghoon… you…" I don't get to finish the sentence, because still kneeling at my feet, he decides to rest his face between my thighs, and it's strange, because it awakens a maternal instinct in me. "If you don't want him to know, I won't tell him. I mean it." He suddenly whispers softly.
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My hands move freely to his head, I sink them into his hair, caress him. This is such an intimate thing.... even more than sex.
"No….except for the fact that you're blatantly lying, if we do this…. I have to tell him." Hoon lifts his eyes to me, he is offended, irritated, outraged by my last statement. "You… do you like him? Do you really want to be loyal to him?" Now I'm the one looking at him, so close I can see myself in his dark eyes. "Yes. But I feel the same way about you." He is silent for a long time. "What?" He just asks. "I.... want be loyal to you, too."
Sunghoon stands up and backs away nervously. He stands with his back to me for several seconds, which turn into dozens, then a whole minute. I have no idea what he is thinking, but I question his conclusions to avoid coming to my own.
"What do you want to do now?" "What do you mean?" I ask him confused. Hoon turns around, I can barely see his gaze, but it still manages to penetrate me. "What am I supposed to do now that I can't even get angry?" He asks, but it seems more to himself than to me.
He approached me impetuously, taking off his shirt and standing shirtless in front of me. He doesn't kiss me right away, I can see his pupils lingering on my lips, then he takes my face again and rests his own on top of mine.
"F-Forget it..." I try to stop him, but he moves to my neck, caressing my palm with his broad fingertips, while with his other hand he pushes me to him, from behind. "Don't refuse me, it's not what you want." He says softly before sucking on my earlobe.
I moan, not only at that. Meanwhile, he has moved his hand to slip it into my fucking panties.... his hands are much faster than his tongue, he only needs to brush against me for me to lose all the strength in my body.
Sunghoon pushes me against the wall and crushes me against it. "Will you tell him too? That you want to be loyal to me too…" He whispers again as his crotch presses against my thigh, my hip. I try to push him away, even though my mouth is open from the moans he makes me emit. "S-Stop…" "Were you trying to make me jealous with that Heeseung thing?" He asks, this shameless man, thrusting a finger inside me. I pant and cling to his shoulders. "S-Sunghoon…" "You succeeded." He whispers again.
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Hell, it's hard enough to resist him when he doesn't talk…. When he starts doing that, I won't be able even think.. Maybe I've already give up, at least when he slides his second finger into my pussy and applies more pressure with his wrist. Groaning, I try to bite my lip so as not to give him the pleasure of hearing me moan because of him, but it's really hard.
"It must have been hard today... wasn't it?" He asks me amused.
Then he takes mine with his free hand and moves it to his obviously swollen, almost vibrating cock under the high-waisted jeans he wears. These emphasize his narrow hips, his slim pelvis, he looks seriously drawn.
Sunghoon is still kissing me, our touches getting wetter and wetter, wetting each other with our mixed saliva. Sunghoon likes to suck my lips, especially the lower ones. He also likes to lick my neck and use his lips to bite me in a purely erotic way.
"You wanted it so much that you even touched yourself. - He says, and I'm surprised to hear him say that, but I don't have time to retort because he's slipping a third finger inside me, preparing me thoroughly for his coming…. - When you heard me make another girl scream, you couldn't help fingering yourself, imagining she was you…"
How shameful! No! How does he know, by the way? But at the moment I am so nervous and embarrassed that I try to push him harder, but this unnerves him and he pushes me against the wall to tighten his grip on me.
"Where are you going? You must be punished... for making me jealous."
Well, I just lost. I don't argue, his hand moves too fast, I make ridiculous noises in front of him, who seems to sneer as he sees me defeated and vulnerable in his fingers.
"Y…you didn't…punish me enough?" I slurp like a drunk, saliva dripping down the sides of my mouth from my panting but also from his wet kisses. "I haven't even started." He replies, finally pulling his fingers out as I come up for air.
Not that he gives me time to reply. He forces me to turn away, my back to him. He pulls up my sweater, then I hear him unbutton his jeans as he presses his hand against my head to keep me from moving.
"I'm really mad, Amanda." He reminds me as he slides his cock between my thighs.
Man, it's so thick that I can wrap it between my legs, even pretty tight. He must like that, because he starts to move his pelvis, stimulating my clit, but not yet entering my pussy, which is trembling because of him.
"I'm not sure this kind of punishment is okay - he whispers in my ear, now panting - for a slut like you."
No... I... really, he must not use this card against me. If he says it normally, it's seriously a problem, but if he says it while forcing me to the wall, using my whole body to literally jerking off, I'm on my knees before him in any kind of sense.
“I bet Heeseung also calls you that when he fucked you, right? Because you guys fucked before his turn, didn't you?” He asks, before pushing his long cock hard into me without even asking permission.
I scream, seriously. It's so big I feel like I'm struggling to keep it all in in this position, I can feel it in my belly, in my sternum, even though he's not moving it yet I'm already moaning. My pussy is drooling over him.
“You like it if they call you that, don't you? - He asks again. You can tell…” “St...Stop-!” I can't finish the sentence, because Sunghoon has moved his hand from my head to grab my shoulder, while with the other he holds my hip. “How can you… be so tight?” He almost seems to be complaining, but I really feel humiliated.
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And yet I like it.
"You have to suffer a little now, you have to do it for me." He whispers, forcing me to arch my back to get him in better.
It feels great and terrible. He begins to move inside me without much care for manners, grabbing my shoulder while he suddenly squeezes my left breast with one hand, I can only try to open my legs more to make it easier. My moans soon turn into primal groans.
"You like it so much… It's disgusting." He laughs, although there is a hint of instability in his voice. "Stop…" "Do you want me to stop? - He asks me, thrusting harder with his hips until I scream with each stroke. - Beg me, beg me to stop."
I try, a few times. Really, just two. Finally, his blows are so violent, but lustful, that I can't say anything anymore.
Sunghoon speaks less and less; as he speeds up, his words diminish, but his sighs increase, and his voice is simply exquisite.
His full breaths, those moments when he seems to be uttering verses of effort, of difficulty, fill my eardrums. I want to hear him over and over again. But he doesn't experience it as poetry, quite the opposite.
Sunghoon hits harder and harder between my legs, clinging to my skin, and I can feel his sharp nails sinking into my hips or around my neck, which he continues to cling to as he literally smashes into me without circling too much.
Suddenly he stops, begins to giggle as he reaches for the back of my neck, his length seeming to tear into me.
"Maybe … there's something I'm better at than Heeseung hyung, Amanda?"
Then he starts again, louder than before, and I can only try to breathe between the primal screams that escape my lungs.
I don't know how long this has been going on, I know I can't control my knees anymore, I feel weak, confused, dizzy, and I feel only pleasure. A lustful pleasure, a pleasure that runs down all my limbs like blood, I am unable to speak, unable to move, but I can continue to hold on to the wall so that he can continue to enjoy me as long as he wants.
"Don't you want to talk to me?" He asks me, also exhausted, I can feel it. "W-What … ah … aha … what do you want me to … say?" Sunghoon bends his back, I don't know how it's possible, but I feel his cock even deeper, I feel completely split open. "That you go crazy for me. That you want me. That you love how I fuck you and that yes, I fuck you better than Heeseung hyung." "I don't… - I pant, it's not easy for me to talk - I'll never be… the way you want me to be… …. And… n-no… you don't fuck me better than…"
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He doesn't want me to finish the sentence, which can be deduced from the fact that he pulled me away from the wall by grabbing my neck, pulling out his dick and doing it suddenly, it was like I was suddenly emptying.
Sunghoon laughed with a blank face as he watched my shattered expression, completely distraught by his actions. He must feel very satisfied, the asshole.
He lies down on the floor, and I didn't expect this from a little prince like him, leans back on his elbows and then smilingly points to his big, swollen cock, reddened with use, veiny and so wet.
"Go ahead, sit down." "N-No." I mumble, even though I can't get a clear head and keep looking at the shape of his cock, it's so beautiful, and then his stomach, his pubic hair, those thighs, my God. "I said sit down." He repeats, more seriously.
I swallow, unable to look him in the face. There's no point in stopping now, and I really want to sit on his legs, on his full balls. I take off the jeans that have been around my ankles, and the sound of him giggling humiliates me even more.
"Good girl - he says under his breath as I bend over to sit with my back to him. - No, no. I need to see your face. Turn around."
These... these are orders.
I have no dignity left, except to cover my face as much as possible with my hair down, which I cannot do. I sit down slowly, letting his cock in more gently than he did, letting the muscle with its veins run tight between my pussy lips.
He has this satisfied grin on his face and it unnerves me to know that I was the one who offered it to him. Whatever he understood from the conversation earlier, it must have cheered him up, and not just for that.
Damn.
"Oh yeah, put it all. Like this." He urges me, whispering, watching me closely as his dick sinks into my pussy.
I feel full again, I am full again, of him. I want to move my hips as fast as possible, I want to continue enjoying, but it's really hard, she was already so sore from him.
"Good... all of it." He reminds me as he goes every last inch back into my belly. "Ah… it's… so big." "You like it because it's big, right? - He laughs again, I'm definitely going too slow for him. - Let me see how much you like it."
Oh no…I have obviously lost.
My hips begin to move, awkwardly, but faster and faster, he is surprised by this sudden change of pace, and I can hear him breathing, louder and louder. It's almost as if his dick has gotten even bigger, or maybe I've been going so long that my pussy has swollen up.
"Do you see that? Ah…your body is reacting like a bitch's."
Oh god, I'm going crazy. I hold on to his broad, hard pecs, they are hot and throbbing, he grabs me by the hips and eases my strokes to go even deeper. I feel like my soul is about to leave my body, but his is pounding into me until it feels like it's filling my belly, I can feel him pressing down on my throat, he's big, he's so hard.
"Fuck, I'd love to impregnate you. You would just become mine."
He says, and at the same time as my unbelievable, psychedelic orgasm, Sunghoon empties himself completely inside me for a few dozen seconds, his sperm flooding me, warming me up, at one point so much that it comes out of my pussy while his cock is still inside me. My whole belly heats up, I feel each spurt splashing into my soul.
I collapse, I am tired, exhausted, he holds me in his arms, like during Heeseung's shift. His cock is still inside me, throbbing, I don't think he's going to cum anymore... but it's still very hard.
"Get ready. - He whispers, folding his legs and pushing me against his stomach as if he wants me closer. - We're just getting started."
Shit.
I hate this.
It's so… so damn wrong - that I like it.
NEXT CHAPTER:
25 notes · View notes
mcnuggyy · 11 months ago
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listening to the live version of enemigo again and going insane ough <33333
5 notes · View notes
thewispsings · 5 months ago
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better streamer | max verstappen
pairing; max verstappen x streamer!reader
summary; after getting completely demolished on stream by user; fartsnifer max makes it his life purpose to win a game against her. to bad he never does and they fall in love instead.
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— fartsnifer has posted new photos!
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liked by, charlesleclerc, and 57,924 others!
fartsnifer: very nice stream tonight! thank you so much to all those who joined 🫶🫶 and thank you to all of my new followers! welcome, you are now all official fartsnifers 🔥
view comments below!
user1: i love your content but i will not be identified as a fartsnifer.
user2: i too did not want to identify as a fartsnifer. i am now proud to be one 😕
user3: being a fartsnifer is a PRIVILEGE. be proud
user4: i’m sorry but i can’t take you guys seriously while you’re calling yourself fartsnifers 😭😭
user5: this is the girl who embarrassed the f1 grid in cod?!?
user6: this is her!!!
charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1, @/landonorris, @/georgerussell63, @/oscarpiastri @/logansargent, @/alex_albon, @/danielricciardo
user7: bro tagged the whole family 💀
user8: LMAO CHARLES???
user9: how did he find her so quick 😭
user10: basically all of f1twt is talking about her 😭😭
maxverstappen1: @/fartsnifer check dms.
user11: MAX WHATTT
user12: willing to bet he’s asking her for a rematch
user13: that’s so ominous “check dms.” LIKE DAMN OKAY
user14: max just accept that she is better than you. it’s okay.
georgerussell63: well well well, if it isn’t fartsnifer herself.
fartsnifer: well well well, if it isn’t the guy who scream like a girl
georgerussell63: um actually, that was @/landonorris, NOT me.
landonorris: why are you lying?
user15: y/n replying to george and not max is killing me 😭
maxverstappen1: check dms.
user16: this is embarrassing max, one comment was enough
user17: i think he wants y/n to check her dms?
oscarpiastri: good game tonight! 👊
fartsnifer: thanks piastri!
user18: thank you oscar for showing y/n that f1 drivers do in fact have decorum 🧍
logansargent: don’t fraternize with the enemy Oscar.
maxverstappen1: check dms please.
user19: oh max…
user20: it just got even more embarrassing
user21: the way y/n is very clearly ignoring him is SO FUCKING FUNNY
user22: i love your content pls don’t die
danielricciardo: please answer Max’s messages.
user23: daniel did max make you do this???
danielricciardo: yes.
maxverstappen1: check dms.
user24: OMG MAX WE GET ITTTT
user24: y/n please answer his dms this is getting sad to watch
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— y/n l/n and max verstappen have shared a collaborated post!
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 392,839 others!
fartsnifer: join my stream tonight to watch me humiliate this 3x wdc!! 👊👊
view comments below!
user25: omg she actually answered his messages 😭
maxverstappen1: that is not the photo we agreed on.
fartsnifer: but this one was so much funnier!!
user26: oh i WILL be tuning in
user27: this is going to be the funniest thing ever
user28: strangers to lovers…
user29: OH BROTHERRR
landonorris: best buddy’s with the enemy now mate?
maxverstappen1: i must win.
user30: i love that photo of max
user30: the ways he’s just 🧍
charles_leclerc: woohoo!! go y/n 👏👏
georgerussell63: fake.
landonorris: she is the enemy charles!
logansargent: after she humiliated us on stream? i can’t believe this.
maxverstappen1: you sick traitor. after everything we’ve been through?
charles_leclerc: i like her videos guys 😕
user31: charles leclerc a official fartsnifer confirmed!!
user32: i was planning to sleep early today….but this seems more important
user33: oh but if i said enemies to friends to lovers…
user34: i would say you’re delusional!! 😝😝
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— y/n has posted new photos!
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 583,826 others!
fartsnifer: life feels good when you don’t have to pay for your own dinners 🤤 @/maxverstappen1
view comments below!
user35: hasn’t it already been over a month 🤨
user36: i think they played again and if y/n won max had to pay her dinners for ANOTHER month
user37: they just want an excuse to keep in touch 😒😒
user36: oh most definitely LMAOOO
maxverstappen1: when did i get you sushi?
fartsnifer: like three days ago remember????
maxverstappen1: ah yes! i remember now
user37: max is literally traveling the world racing and still finds time to order y/n dinner online EVERY SINGLE DAY.
user38: he wants her so bad and you can’t convince me otherwise 😐
landonorris: can you play today?
fartsnifer: don’t you have quali today???!?!
landonorris: i mean after 😒
fartsnifer: yeah just tell me when
maxverstappen1: can i join?
user39: omg max no
user40: oh i just got the worst second hand embarrassment jesus christ
user41: that was the saddest sentence ever written
fartsnifer: ofc you can maximilian!!
charles_leclerc: you shouldn’t try this delicious italian restaurant! i’ll send max the address!!
fartsnifer: thank you charles 🫶🫶
maxverstappen1; don’t thank him 🙄 I’m the one buying it.
user42: don’t be jealous max…
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liked by 273,827 others!
fartsniferupdates: queen fartsnifer herself was seen at the f1 austrian race today!! i think we ALL know who she was there for… 😉😉
view comments below!
user43: she flew to austria for a MAN ?? 🤨
user44: to be fairrrrr that man is MAX VERSTAPPEN so…
user45: they are so dating!! they literally left together and looked so happy
user46: i fucking knew it
user47: okay enemy’s to lovers…get it ig
user48: maybe y/n can let max win at COD now that they’re a…thing?
user49: y/n looks so good
user50: IKR!!! her hair is chefs kiss
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liked by, landonorris, charles_leclerc, fartsnifer, and 763,825 others!
maxverstappen1: finally payed for her dinner in person 💪
view comments below!
user51: oh HE posted her?? yeah he’s in love
user52: he ruined his entire feed aesthetic to post a picture of her 🥹🥹🥹
fartsnifer: i don’t like that picture🧍delete please!
maxverstappen1: karma!
maxverstappen1: and you look cute 🙄
user53: OH!!!
user54: yeah they are definitely dating
landonorris: finally!! God you were getting to annoying with your “she’s so pretty.” “and she’s good at games.” “do you think if we started dating she’d let me win.”
maxverstappen1: delete this.
fartsnifer: too late!! i’ve seen it. no max just because we’re dating doesn’t mean i will let you win
maxverstappen1: 😕
user55: OMG SHE JUST CONFIRMED IT?? THEY ARE ACTUALLY DATING?? HOLY SHIT
user56: girl he literally flew her out to watch him race. ofc they were dating 😭😭
user33: I FUCKING KNEW IT!! FUCK YOU ALL WHO SAID I WAS DELUSIONAL!! WHAT NOW HUH??? YOU SEE THIS?? I WAS RIGHT!! AHAHAHAH
charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️
charles_leclerc: that was for y/n, not max.
maxverstappen1: geez thanks mate!
fartsnifer: love you charles ‼️‼️
user57: LMAOOO
user58: the way charles became a full on fartsnifer fan is so crazy
user59: he literally talks about her all the time too 😭😭 when he was asked what he’s been watching recently he answered “i’ve been watching a streamer named fartsnifer! she’s funny.” he’s so proud about it
georgerussell63: you are all traitors!! after what she did to us that fateful day? i can’t believe this!
fartsnifer: you literally invited me for drinks tomorrow?? 🧍
georgerussell63: SHHHH 🤫🤫
user60: max is dating someone who gos by the name fartsnifer….yeah i didn’t see this coming
. . .
notes: thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed :))
4K notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 11 months ago
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✎ rivals... in love?
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- gojo satoru x reader
gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?
genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff
note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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No way. There is just no way.
Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.
“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”
With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.
Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!
"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."
And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”
"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.
It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.
…Right?
At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.
And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?
Heh, no one.
(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)
“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”
Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”
Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”
“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”
It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—
“Heh, so what if I am?”
That's the wrong answer.
Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"
“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”
“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”
“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”
By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.
This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...
Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.
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Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.
And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.
"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"
You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"
"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."
"Who are you talki—"
"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"
You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.
“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”
"Gojo, I don't have the time—"
"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"
"You're unbeliev—"
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"
"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."
You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."
"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"
He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."
How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.
"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"
At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.
Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"
Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:
"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."
Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.
It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...
Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"
But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."
His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"
"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."
Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?
And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.
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Epilogue
In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"
Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."
"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."
"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."
Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"
"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"
-> continue to extended cut !
7K notes · View notes
yutarot · 3 months ago
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IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]
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genres: humour, friends to enemies to lovers, secret relationship, forced proximity, college au, dancer au, hiphopdancer!jaehyun, fboy!jaehyun, balletdancer!yn
synopsis: your dance college wasn’t the easiest to get in to, let alone was it easy to stay. so what happens when your college decides they need to cut two of the dance teams from competing ever again, the ballet team and the hiphop team. will both teams get along in order to solve their connected issue, or will they fight to get their own team back to competing again? only you and hiphop dance team captain, jeong jaehyun, can decide your teams fates. but there’s one problem, you hate eachother.
WARNINGS: mention of drugs/alcohol, language, jokes about sex, mention of injury, some usage of ballet terminology, lots of extensive lore?, angst, lots of angst, slowburn as fuck obviously, major character betrayal, lots of lying, i mean LOTS of lying, jaehyun is an asshole for like 50% of this, the plot gets v messy and confusing but i live for that so
DISCLAIMER: all portrayals of people are fake and from my imagination, in no way am i claiming that they act like this irl.
written wc: 8.8k
STATUS: complete! — 09.03.24 - 10.02.24
TAGLIST - OPEN!
MASTERLIST
[profiles one] || [profiles two]
[one — jungwoos scared of girls]
[two — that can’t be good]
[three — well that sucks]
[four — he’s stalking you]
[five — we were just friends]
[six — the man he was] half written
[seven — i need to talk to you]
[eight — i’ve waited so long]
[nine — roses]
[ten — im over you]
[eleven — ur over me?]
[twelve — betrayal] written chapter
[thirteen — dimples]
[fourteen — conflict] written chapter
[fifteen — i never knew]
[sixteen — you’re welcome, btw]
[seventeen — she deserves to know]
[eighteen — it was me.] written chapter
[nineteen — hey guys…]
[twenty — collab of the century]
[twenty-one — i’m happy he’s over u]
[twenty-two — i did it for you] written chapter
[twenty-three — no one knows except..]
[twenty-four — that same old dimpled smile] written chapter
[twenty-five — everything about you]
[twenty-six — however hard it may be.] half written
[twenty-six and a half — it’s finally happening]
[twenty-seven — they can wait]
[twenty-eight — ive nothing to fear] written chapter
[twenty-nine — they don’t know we know they know we know]
[thirty — in perfect sync.] written chapter
end.
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replies, likes and reblogs are all greatly appreciated! feel free to send thoughts and requests in my asks: characters, scenes, chapters etc.
1K notes · View notes
neferaskingdom · 2 months ago
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♡ Heart Eyes? More Like Death Glares | MV1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader [Face Claim: None]
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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Summary: Max and Y/N continue to pretend they absolutely, totally, 100% hate each other—like, seriously, they couldn’t possibly flirt less if they tried (spoiler: they’re not trying). Lando, George, and the rest of the grid are busy stirring the pot, calling out the obvious heart-eyes energy between them, while Max and Y/N would rather crash a golf cart into a wall than admit it. Instead of confessing, they resort to their usual routine of roasting each other online, dragging anyone who dares suggest they’re into each other. But hey, if threatening to run someone over with a golf cart isn’t romance, then what is?
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
A/N: someone help me I can't stop writing. and thank you everyone for all the love 😭
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Part 2 of my wheel-to-wheel but still in denial series : Masterlist
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y/n_leclerc posted a photo:
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📸: Y/N and Max standing side by side at a paddock event, Max smirking while Y/N sticks her tongue out at him. Max’s arm is slung casually around her shoulders.
Caption: Guess I’ve decided to tolerate him. For now. But if he says one more thing about karting from 2006, I’m breaking his arm. 😘 maxverstappen1
Liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 420,876 others.
Comments:
maxverstappen1:
I’m more concerned about your aim with the trophies. Not the arm. 😬
↪ y/n_leclerc:
I throw trophies with purpose. You should be scared.
charles_leclerc:
Am I seeing this right? Are you two…tolerating each other? I’m disturbed.
↪ landonorris:
charles_leclerc This is either the start of a rom-com or a murder documentary. There is no in-between.
redbullracing:
Max surviving Y/N’s wrath one weekend at a time. #PrayForMax 🙏
scuderiaferrari:
Sorry, Y/N’s under our protection. 🔴
danielricciardo:
This is giving “enemies to friends to lovers” energy. Just saying. 👀
user1:
THEY’RE TOUCHING. PEOPLE. THEY. ARE. TOUCHING. 🔥🔥🔥
user2:
Y/N has him in a chokehold. This man used to talk about winning, now all he talks about is Y/N. 😂
user3:
MAX. SMILING. WHILE SHE THREATENS HIM?? SIR, DO YOU NEED HELP????
user4:
“Guess I’ve decided to tolerate him” OKAY BUT THAT’S 2024 LOVE LANGUAGE.
user5:
ARM AROUND HER SHOULDERS ARE WE JUST GONNA IGNORE THAT?
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maxverstappen1 posted a photo:
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📸: Max and Y/N standing in front of a karting track, Max holding a first-place trophy with a smug grin while Y/N rolls her eyes, holding second place.
Caption: She tried. #StillTheKing 🏆y/n_leclerc
Liked by landonorris, pierregasly, alex_albon, and 500,903 others.
Comments:
y/n_leclerc:
MAX. I SWEAR. I WILL LAUNCH THAT TROPHY INTO THE STRATOSPHERE.
danielricciardo:
Max holding onto that 0.2-second win like his life depends on it. 😂
scuderiaferrari:
It’s a team sport, Y/N. We’ve got your back. 💪
↪ redbullracing:
Max doesn’t need backup, just speed. 😎
charles_leclerc:
I’ve never seen two people who love violence this much.
user6:
Y/N is gonna murder him in his sleep. You can see the murder in her eyes.
user7:
THE DRAMA. THE CHAOS. I need a live stream of this rivalry 24/7.
user8:
This man really can’t let the karting thing go, huh?
user9:
Not Max smiling like a kid who just stole candy, HELP. HE’S WHIPPED.
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redbullracing tweeted:
We don't know if Max's biggest challenge this year is winning the championship or surviving Y/N's roasts.
Comments:
scuderiaferrari:
Y/N roasting Max is our favorite part of race weekends.
↪ y/n_leclerc:
I mean, I do provide quality entertainment.
↪ maxverstappen1:
Yeah, at my expense. 🙄
danielricciardo:
Max getting roasted by Y/N has become my new personality trait.
user13:
MAX FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE OUT HERE, SEND HELP.
user14:
“Surviving Y/N’s roast battles” is a bigger challenge than Charles winning Monaco. FACTS.
user15:
I swear, if Y/N roasts him into confessing his feelings, I’m DONE. 💀
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y/n_leclerc posted a photo:
📸: A blurry photo of Y/N sneaking up behind Max and putting bunny ears over his head during a team meeting. Max looks like he’s trying not to laugh.
Caption: Stealth mode activated. maxverstappen1, you’re welcome. 🤡
Liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, landonorris, and 450,786 others.
Comments:
maxverstappen1:
You’re not as stealthy as you think, Y/N.
↪ y/n_leclerc
You were laughing, don’t even lie. 😏
redbullracing:
Max, blink twice if you need rescue.
scuderiaferrari:
We support this. 100%.
charles_leclerc:
This is becoming ridiculous. You two are like 12-year-olds at recess.
↪ landonorris:
charles_leclerc But like…flirty 12-year-olds.
user16:
The “I hate you but I’m gonna tease you all day” vibes are immaculate.
user17:
Imagine going from rivals to flirting openly on social media. Icon behavior.
user18:
Y/N’s gonna drag Max into the friend zone just to climb back out and wreck him emotionally. I’m CALLING IT.
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y/n_leclerc posted a meme:
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Caption: Max seeing literally anything and thinking it’s a win. Cute but tragic also hella fucking childish. 😏
Comments:
maxverstappen1:
I am a winner. I can’t help it. 😎
↪ y/n_leclerc:
The only thing you win at is being a nuisance. Congrats. 👏
danielricciardo:
Y/N ROASTS MAX AND MAX JUST SMILES?? WHO GAVE THEM THIS MUCH POWER?
user22:
He’s literally simping at this point. Max, blink twice if you need help.
user23:
Not Max and Y/N roasting each other like an old married couple. Someone hold me.
user24:
I swear they’re gonna end up confessing through memes.
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y/n_leclerc tweeted:
Max Verstappen? More like Max Disturben my peace. Can someone collect him before I accidentally run him over with a golf cart? 🙄
Comments:
maxverstappen1:
You wouldn’t survive without me around to entertain you.
↪ y/n_leclerc:
Max, if I wanted entertainment, I’d watch Ferrari’s strategy team at work. They’re more chaotic than you.
↪ landonorris:
Wow, so now we’re dragging Ferrari and Max? This is getting spicy. 🌶️
↪ charles_leclerc:
landonorris She drags Ferrari on a daily basis. I’ve accepted it. 😤
georgerussell63:
Y/N would 100% aim for Max with a golf cart and miss, then blame it on the steering.
↪ danielricciardo:
George, don’t give her any ideas. We don’t need Max in a hospital bed because Y/N can't drive straight. 😂
scuderiaferrari:
We don’t condone violence, but if it’s Max… 👀
↪ redbullracing:
Nice try, Ferrari. Max is bulletproof.
user1:
MAX DISTURBEN OMG I CAN’T BREATHE. 💀
user2:
The fact that y/n_leclerc almost ran him over with a golf cart is PEAK romance. I love it here.
user3:
Ferrari roasting their own strategy, Y/N dragging Max, AND Lando just living for the drama? ICONIC.
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danielricciardo posted a meme:
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Caption: Me, 100%. Honestly, watching them trying to flirt is more entertaining than Netflix. 🤣
Liked by landonorris, georgerussell63, y/n_leclerc, and 650,420 others.
Comments:
pierregasly:
Welcome to the chaos, Danny. We have memes and bad decisions.
maxverstappen1:
Why is everyone so obsessed with this? We’re not flirting.
↪ georgerussell63:
Max, mate, your whole personality is flirting with Y/N at this point. Just own it.
↪ danielricciardo:
georgerussell63 He’s in denial. It’s kinda cute. 😇
landonorris:
This entire thing is funnier than watching Max try to figure out TikTok. 😂
user4:
NOT GEORGE SAYING MAX’S PERSONALITY IS FLIRTING LMAO. HELP, I CAN’T.
user5:
Daniel dropping the truth bombs like Ferrari drops strategy. 🔥
user6:
Max: "We’re not flirting." Also Max: keeps posting selfies with Y/N and calling it ‘winning.’ 💀
user7:
Okay but why did girly pop like this?!? y/n_leclerc explain this sus behaviour
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scuderiaferrari tweeted:
Y/N’s roast game is as strong as our engines. 🔥
Comments:
redbullracing:
Your roast game might be strong, but Max still wins every race. 😎
↪ scuderiaferrari:
You can have the races, we’ll take the memes. It’s all about priorities. 💅
maxverstappen1:
Can I just drive in peace?
↪ y/n_leclerc:
You wouldn’t know peace if it hit you with a tire gun.
mclaren:
We’re just here for the memes and the chaos. Carry on. 👀
user7:
THE TEAMS GETTING INVOLVED IS SENDING ME. THIS IS NEXT LEVEL.
user8:
“Max still wins every race” OKAY RED BULL COMING IN HOT WITH THE SALT. 💀
user9:
This has turned into the F1 version of Mean Girls and I am OBSESSED.
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landonorris tweeted:
At this point, Max and Y/N are flirting so aggressively that I feel like we’re all third-wheeling their relationship. It’s giving “enemies-to-lovers.”
Comments:
maxverstappen1:
Lando, are you high? We’re not flirting. We’re fighting. There’s a difference. 🤨
↪ y/n_leclerc:
landonorris Excuse you?? Flirting?!? I don’t even like looking at Max. I’d rather become a papaya wearing norizz supporter. 😤
↪ mclaren:
y/n_leclerc why the sudden papaya slander?
↪ landonorris:
Sure…fighting…with heart eyes, but okay. 👀
↪ maxverstappen1:
landonorris Do I look like I have “heart eyes” to you? Lando, have you forgotten what I do for a living? I destroy things. Mainly Y/N’s patience.
↪ y/n_leclerc:
Lando, blink twice if you’ve lost your mind. Max is as appealing to me as wet socks.
↪ GeorgeRussell63:
Is this fighting? It looks like denial to me. 😏
↪ y/n_leclerc:
georgerussell63 Oh, I’ll fight you next, George. Keep testing me.
↪ maxverstappen1:
Yeah, George. Do you want to die?
landonorris:
Max threatening to fight people while Y/N fake-cries. The definition of an old married couple flirting and supporting each other
↪ y/n_leclerc:
MAX? FLIRT? With me?? Lando, I’ll race you backwards on a unicycle before I ever flirt with him. 🚫
↪ maxverstappen1:
landonorris The only “relationship” here is one where Y/N loses at everything. This isn’t flirting, this is winning. Learn the difference. 😎
↪ charles_leclerc:
This denial is strong. Like…Ferrari-level strong.
↪ y/n_leclerc:
charles_leclerc I WILL DELETE YOU FROM THE FAMILY. STOP THIS.
user1:
“I don’t even like looking at Max” is the funniest lie Y/N has ever told. 💀
user2:
The denial is STRONG in this one. They’re roasting everyone just to avoid the truth.
user3:
Max and Y/N: “We’re not flirting!” Also Max and Y/N: have entire conversations with heart eyes.
user4:
The way they’d rather start a fight than admit they’re into each other? ICONIC.
user5:
Y/N: “I’d rather become a papaya wearing norizz supporter.” OOF. That’s the kind of denial that needs therapy.
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georgerussell63 posted a video:
🎥: George filming Y/N and Max mid-argument during a drivers’ briefing. Y/N is poking Max in the chest while Max smirks down at her.
Caption: Y/N and Max, doing what they do best: arguing like an old married couple. When’s the wedding? 💍
Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, y/n_leclerc, and 700,432 others.
Comments:
y/n_leclerc:
GEORGE. DELETE THIS OR I’M SENDING YOU TO THE SHADOW REALM.
maxverstappen1:
You call this an argument? This is just foreplay. 😉
↪ y/n_leclerc:
MAX WHAT THE— TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW.
↪ charles_leclerc:
WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY
↪ landonorris:
Max, you said that way too casually. What’s going on here? 👀
↪ alex_albon:
“Foreplay”? I just dropped my phone. Max, you’re playing with fire.
↪ georgerussell63:
Oh no, this is staying up. The internet needs to see it. 😂
redbullracing:
We’re not saying this is a Red Bull-sponsored relationship…but 👀
↪ scuderiaferrari:
Can we take credit for this relationship too? We did provide Y/N, after all. 🤔
↪ y/n_leclerc:
THERE IS NO RELATIONSHIP HERE YOU FUCKERS
user10:
DID MAX JUST SAY FOREPLAY? I CAN’T WITH THIS MAN, OMG. 💀
user11:
George stirring the pot is chef’s kiss. THE DRAMA.
user12:
Max has been WAITING to say something like that, I know it. The tension is REAL.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
744 notes · View notes
writers-potion · 8 months ago
Note
do you have any dialogue prompts for enemies to lovers (like the stages separately)? thanks
Enemies-to-Lovers Dialogue Prompts
A mix of prompts from: @celestialwrites, @corvase, @novelbear, @unboundprompts and myself, @writers-potion
1. Making the Enemy
"Cry me a river and drown in it."
“You are a mockery of philosophy.”
“You are truly pathetic if you thought I’d ever rely on you."
“Oh bravo! No one cared.”
“You’re nothing, you were nothing even to your mother/father.”
“You’re on a path of self destruction and I’m not going to stop it."
“Having you around is just like having a nightmare I can’t wait to wake from.”
“what even is the point of you?”
2. The Clash
"I've met a lot of funny people in my life, but you... you are the most hysterical."
"I'm not trusting someone who looks like... that."
"I can't wait to wipe that wicked smirk off of your smug face."
"You know if you do this, you'll be fucked too, right?"
"Am I being too rough? Well, I'm only getting started."
“i think we’re friends now.” “God, don’t say that.”
“everything is just a competition for you… isn’t it?” “isn’t it for you, too?”
“h—” “don’t talk to me.”
“i’d pay good money for you to admit you tolerate me.” “tolerate being the operative word.”
“why can’t you open up to me?” “why do you want me to?”
3. A Shift In the Air
“i realise that i am clearly irresistible but..why did you choose to act on all the flirting now?”
“wanna do it again?”
“should we like. talk about it”
“you’re..extremely red” “shut up” “like actually vermillion” “go to hell”
“are we about to kiss right now” as a joke, but then the other character actually leans in
“look since the events of last night i can safely say that i have discovered multiple new techniques to shut you up, and i am not afraid to use them”
“this never happened” “consider it forgotten” proceeds to happen many times after
4. Being Vulnerable/ Losing for Love
“Since when did you ever care about me?!” “Since fucking forever, you idiotic dunce!”
“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” “You… What?” 
“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?” 
"i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?"
“I’m not…used to feeling this way, okay?”
“Oh - don’t fucking do that.”
"shut up and kiss me"
"such a pretty liar mhmm"
“We might have been wrong.”
5. Lovers At Last
"you want me?" "you know i do"
"i hate you." "hate and love, what's the difference, darling?"
"i want to stab them, i want to shoot them, but my fucking god i want to kiss them too."
"you better kill me soon because it's the only way you will ever be able to keep me away."
"what are you doing?" "asking you to marry me? daggers and all."
2K notes · View notes
lamentationsofalonelypotato · 8 months ago
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Pairing: Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Song Inspiration For The Series: You Call It Madness But I Call It Love By Russ Columbo
Series Playlist (Spotify)🥀
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters fluctuate between past and present, beginning in 1934. SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS S3
Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered the Door
Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor
Chapter 3: Summer Has to End Someday
Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To
Chapter 5: The Man, The Myth, The Legend
Chapter 6: Batter Up
Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?
Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...
Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?
Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?
Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!
Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly
Chapter 13: You Made A Plaything Out of Romance
Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of
Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?
Chapter 16: Please Come Back To Me
Chapter 17: How Could I Ever Forget?
Chapter 18: First Impressions Are Often Correct
Chapter 19: I Know Who You Are
Chapter 20: You Were There
Chapter 21: Try To Understand
Chapter 22: I May Be Right Or I May Be Crazy
Chapter 23: Extreme Makeover Backyard Edition
Chapter 24: What The Past Held
Chapter 25: Are Family Reunions Always This Awkward?
Chapter 26: I Hate You, I Love You
Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning
Epilogue: True Love Is Hard To Find
Last Updated: 10/08/2024 (Series Complete)
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One Shots: COMING SOON!
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[Extras]
Chapter 7.5: The Only Escape (Unused)
Happy Halloween! (Takes Place After Main Series)
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If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)
Taglist:
@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303
@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs
@bughill126 @simplyfixated  @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444
@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn
@lifeonawhim  @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife
@xxannyxx
 @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm
 @lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove
@mrsjenniferwinchester
@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
@livya99 @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy
@jvanilly
@lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet
@anna6307
@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm
@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline @impala67stellawinchester
@everlove @dangerousgardenchild
(Photos on mood board from Pinterest)
1K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 1 year ago
Note
i hope your finger’s ok!! please take all the time you need and remember you health comes first :) imma be selfish and send you a charles request cause ur writing makes me smile at my phone like an idiot and i can’t help it :p ok so!! charles x versteppen reader? shes max’s sister and drives for redbull (cause im delulu like that) and they’ve been fighting w each other since they were kids (no one knows why they started arguing they’re j petty and refuse to give it up even though they dk what they’re arguing abt anymore) and obvs they’re in love w each other - maybe another drivers flirting w her or smth and charles j snaps and hard launches the reader cause surprise they’ve been dating each other 🤭 holy shit this is long sorry for rambling 🙏🙏
angel baby, devil child | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!reader
enemies to lovers blah blah blah
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,743,200 others
yourusername: crazy, crazy race. sorry not sorry to the tifosi, tell ur girl @charles_leclerc to kiss my ass not my rear tyre xoxo
view all comments
user1: okay they're clearly still in the enemies phase... when can we skip to lovers
user2: i personally love that charles is the mortal enemy of both verstappen siblings that's so slay of him
maxverstappen1: crop me out again and say goodbye to a tow in qualifying
yourusername: sorry maxy, not my fault i got all the photogenic genes xx
maxverstappen1: erm rude @christianhorner tell her to stop bullying me
yourusername: two can play at that game @sebastianvettel tell max to stop being a baby
user3: the way neither christian or seb replied they really don't get paid enough to deal with them
charles_leclerc: what is it with verstappens and their love for pushing me off the track
yourusername: what is it with your front wing and my rear tyre
charles_leclerc: umm i asked you first
yourusername: stop deflecting babe, we all know you love my ass so much you wanted a touch
charles_leclerc: i'd rather deep fry my hands than touch your rear
maxverstappen1: that can be arranged
user4: can't wait for these three to all be in the same press conference next week 🍿
carlossainz55: my favourite person to share the podium with
yourusername: thanks chilli (@tifosi you heard it here sainz is against ferrari 1-2s)
carlossainz55: NO that's not what i meant
landonorris: i see how it is ... god all men are the same AM I NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR YOU?
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maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,204,809 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: happy birthday to my bestest friend, biggest rival and favourite roommate. though maybe now you're 23 you can get your own place so you can sneak out to meet up with your secret boyfriend on your own terms and can keep that massive ballsack away from jimmy and sassy. i love you and verstappen dominance 4 ever.
view all comments
user7: i love y/n but i think she should bring her cat to races as a scare tactic
yourusername: wrinkle doesn't appreciate your tone but it is duly noted
yourusername: awwwwwwwww i love you maxy !! and you're never getting rid of your little sister unless you get married and ur a big fat nerd so that's never happening xx
maxverstappen1: attacking me after i just bought you a whole ass car
yourusername: i JOKE. thank you soooo much and you'll never get rid of me you love me too much to anyway.
maxverstappen1: enough to finally introduce me to the mystery man?
yourusername: blocked.
user8: are we all just ignoring her doing her literal eyeliner with a knife?
user9: or the fact that max likely walked in and was like oh wait this is a sick shot
danielricciardo: oh no that was me, i'm still traumatised but it's probably the best photo i've ever taken
yourusername: easy to do with a model like me
charles_leclerc: wtf is that thing in the last one
yourusername: rude of you to think ur balls look any nicer
charles_leclerc: what?
yourusername: what?
user10: does anyone want to elaborate?
carlossainz55: happy birthday y/n !
yourusername: thanks carlos, thank you for the flowers 👍
user11: this is either their way of flirting or y/n really couldn't give a flying fuck about carlos' obvious crush on her
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 2,098,560 others
yourusername: another trip around the sun and still following my brother around, difference is now i beat him x
view all comments
user16: your honour i am so obsessed with her
maxverstappen1: can't even be angry about it, you deserve the world
yourusername: you softy, i love you
maxverstappen1: also dummy i know who your boyfriend is now did you guys forget that we LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER
yourusername: i was intoxicated my bad but we bought you breakfast?
maxverstappen1: literally the only reason he hasn't gone over the balcony, he might want to be gone before this hangover wears off
yourusername: noted.
user17: yall want to share with the class?
user18: based on ^^ this reaction i'm going to say it's not carlos
user19: watch out he'll drop a shit pick-up line in a second and be rejected
carlossainz55: hope you enjoyed your birthday beautiful
user20: bro this guy STINKS
user19: i told yall
yourusername: thank you carlos
user21: i'm sorry this is dry as hell it can't be carlos
charles_leclerc: my shoes will never recover, i'll be sending an invoice your way
yourusername: you're a millionaire boo, you can replace those tacky white trainers yourself
charles_leclerc: is having no manners a verstappen trait?
yourusername: come for max all you want, but the birthday girl? low leclerc
charles_leclerc: when you go low i go lower
yourusername: oh believe me i know all about you and going down
user22: DO YALL MIND?
user23: do they think we're dumb?
charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, lancestroll and 1,204,674 others
charles_leclerc: a weekend without racing?
view all comments
user24: what is biden doing about the soft launch pandemic?
user25: well this is oddly timed ...
yourusername: you look like you'd have sweaty hands
charles_leclerc: wouldn't you like to know
yourusername: unlike all ur fangirls i've actually smelt you sweaty after a race so you can keep your hands to yourself
maxverstappen1: you heard her 🤨
charles_leclerc: why are you here? is this a 2 for 1 deal on annoying dutch people
yourusername: you can call him annoying all you want, but you love me don't lie
charles_leclerc: my lawyer says i shouldn't comment on that ;)
sebastianvettel: when will you two stop?
yourusername: sorry seb :(
charles_leclerc: sorry seb :(
user26: i know carlos is sick reading this weird flirting when y/n never comments on his pics
user27: she comes here just to flirt cause she didn't even like the photo
user28: she doesn't even follow him 😭
pierregasly: i love a slow burn as much as the next person BUT NOT WHEN I DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS PICK UP THE PHONE
charles_leclerc: you're so dramatic, nobody knows calmar
maxverstappen1: he's lying i do
pierregasly: WHAT
charles_leclerc: by ACCIDENT i didn't tell him by choice
user29: so like, it's definitely y/n LOL
user30: oh no everyone get ready marca is going to run a story tomorrow about how charles leclerc is ruining carlos' career with psychological warfare by flirting with the girl he likes
user31: sainz sr about to wage war lol
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charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,304,889 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: i don't share. i love you. please follow me on instagram now (and let me come on max's jet) x
view all comments
user35: HOLY FUCK
user36: they're so fucking sexy my lord
yourusername: you're so weak, one teammate flirts with me and you hard launch, i've had 12 year olds use me as a face claim to pretend they're pregnant with your child
charles_leclerc: they took your face? i happen to quite like it, can they give it back?
yourusername: quite?
charles_leclerc: don't make me look bad you know i positively LOVE YOUR FACE
yourusername: and my ass since it's all you look at on track
charles_leclerc: okay you can drop the act now people know we're in love stop being mean to me :(
yourusername: but it's true, no?
charles_leclerc: rest assured i love your actual ass much more
maxverstappen1: believe me the people she lives with know WAY too much about how much you love it
user37: carlos sainz really thought he had a chance when these fools have been together for TWO years
sebastianvettel: congratulations you two, glad we don't have to watch you two trying to be subtle now
maxverstappen1: so wait when did you find out?
sebastianvettel: about two weeks into the relationship, they were very obvious
yourusername: thank you for keeping our secret dad <3
user38: y/n really said you ARE my grid dad
yourusername: oh no that's my actual dad
charles_leclerc: he's literally going to walk y/n down the aisle
maxverstappen1: please don't tell me you're engaged? i only just got over you actually being together
charles_leclerc: i'm not your brother yet don't worry (i will be soon)
carlossainz55: congrats guys
user39: it's okay bro you can cry
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,301,541 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: two years with the love of my life, still on max's side on val d'argenton x
view all comments
user40: they're disgusting (when will it happen to me)
charles_leclerc: we'll have to agree to disagree
yourusername: just admit it you love to push verstappens off the track
charles_leclerc: sorry babe as much as i love you, i'll never let you win x
yourusername: good thing i always beat you then x
charles_leclerc: either way victory sex still bangs
user41: yes, yes they're cute, but i need a full on play-by-play of how this relationship came to be
user42: i know these menaces were giggling and kicking their feet every time they had an argument in comment sections
yourusername: oh it was very fun
charles_leclerc: but the radio messaged are 100% real lol
maxverstappen1: thanks for having my back, you're welcome for all the gross pictures i've taken for you guys
yourusername: consider your payment like every meal i make us
maxverstappen1: well if i did it f1 would be down three drivers
user43: wait so does charles basically live with them now?
maxverstappen1: unfortunately yes. depressing music, even worse cooking than me and horrendously loud sex with my sister. i should kick him out
charles_leclerc: i literally bought you noise-cancelling headphones?
maxverstappen1: nothing you can say will save me from this trauma
yourusername: just shag daniel and get off of our case x
note: ahhhhh i am so sorry this request took so long, my inbox keeps moving stuff around lol. my finger is good thanks for asking, the human body is a wonder and i peeled off the last of my scab this week lol. i hope this was the kinda thing you were looking for !! xx
3K notes · View notes
erensmoonlight · 1 month ago
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Roommate Accident
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Synopsis. Living with Eren Yeager was never supposed to happen or be complicated, but tension between two roommates turns their once peaceful arrangement into an awkward dance of avoidance and frustration. A casual offer to give her a ride one day sets off a chain of unexpected events, leaving her questioning the boundaries of their relationship. As their interactions grow more intense, she finds herself torn between keeping the peace and exploring something deeper. With a circle of close friends offering unsolicited advice and wild suggestions, she must decide whether to confront her feelings or continue ignoring the growing chemistry between them.
Paring: Eren Yeager x Fem Reader
Content, MDNI: Enemies to lovers, arguments, smut, drinking, oral (f), dirty talk, sex, fluff, one shot, (Lmk if I missed anything!)
Word Count: 9.7K
{ash’s notes} -HI GUYS! This is my first story and if I’m gonna be honest, I’m prettyyyy nervous but excited of course. I hope you guys enjoy reading this because this was lowkey so fun to write, I have so many more stories to think about writing but not sure when I will. Okay I’m just going to be rambling on and on so again please show love to this story and lmk what you think and how it is! Love you all and take care of yourself, MWAHH❤️ minors aren't welcomed! comments + reblogs are appreciated!
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College life is back in full swing, and with it comes the sense of purpose I’ve been craving all summer. Don’t get me wrong—being home with family had its perks, but I desperately needed some time to myself. Now, living with Mikasa, I finally have the freedom to do things on my own terms, while still keeping my grades up, of course. It feels like a fresh start, a chance to balance responsibility with the independence I’ve been longing for.
Junior year of college—finally. I know it’s going to be a new challenge, but all I’m hoping for is as little stress and drama as possible. The drive ahead was long, so I kept my goodbyes short and sweet, not wanting to drag it out. As I hit the road, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursed through me. It felt like the start of something big.
After an hour-long drive, I finally arrived at the campus dorms, my excitement bubbling over. I parked the car and hurried to my dorm, practically bursting with anticipation. As I unlocked the door, I noticed a few boxes outside Mikasa’s room—she must’ve just gotten here too. I grabbed the handle, flung the door open, and jumped inside, shouting, “HIII ROOMIE!”
But the smile fell from my face instantly. It wasn’t Mikasa standing there—it was Eren.
“What the actual hell?” I blurted, freezing in the doorway.
“The fuck?” he shot back, looking just as startled as me.
We stared at each other, equally confused by what was happening. "Excuse me, but why are you in Mikasa's room?" I asked with more sass than intended.
"Mikasa?" he echoed, clearly baffled. "This is my room. Dorm 207," he added, grabbing a piece of paper from the desk nearby to show me.
I quickly glanced at my own dorm assignment. There it was—207, plain as day.
"Oh, hell no—“
Call incoming
Just as my brain started to melt down, my phone buzzed. Mikasa’s name flashed on the screen, and I picked up, not even bothering As a greeting. “Where are you, and why is Eren in your room?” I asked, my voice tight with frustration.
On the other end, Mikasa sounded just as bewildered. “Okay, so I was just as surprised when I saw Armin in your dorm, but we figured it out. There was a mix-up with the dorm assignments, and... they can’t change it.”
"WHAT?!" I screamed into the phone, my frustration boiling over. Before I could say anything else, Eren grabbed my phone and echoed my shock with his own confusion, “What?!” He put the phone on speaker
“What the hell do you mean they can’t change it? School hasn’t even started! They have to fix it because I am definitely not rooming with Ms. Control Freak over here,” Eren said, looking me up and down with an irritating look.
I clenched my fists, my patience hanging by a thread. The urge to slap him right then and there was overwhelming. My relationship with Eren was… complicated, to say the least. To keep it short, we never saw eye to eye—we couldn’t stand each other’s lifestyles, let alone the idea of sharing a space.
I see myself as someone organized, who knows how to navigate life with a clear plan, confident in my ability to talk things through and stand my ground when needed. Eren, on the other hand, is the complete opposite—laid-back, spontaneous, and annoyingly carefree. He’s the type who thinks life is meant to be lived without schedules or rules. It’s no wonder we clash constantly; we’re like oil and water.
After a few more minutes of heated back-and-forth, Mikasa’s call finally ended, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded, in the middle of what was now our dorm. Eren ran a hand down his face, visibly irritated. I had no idea how we were supposed to survive this.
“Well, if we’re going to make this work, I gotta lay out some ground rules,” Eren announced, and I could already tell this was going to be a joke. “You don’t bother me, I don’t bother you. Simple as that.” He extended his hand for me to shake as if we were closing some grand deal.
The audacity. “When did we agree on you being the boss?” I shot back.
He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he muttered, giving me an exasperated look.
That only fueled my annoyance. I started rattling off about chores, noise levels, and a bunch of other things that he would absolutely need to respect if we were going to survive living together.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m gonna stop you right there. Today’s already stressful enough, and I don’t need you adding to my headache,” he said, waving a hand dismissively in my face. The nerve of this guy.
Before I could snap back, he grabbed my shoulders, physically moved me out of his room, and shut the door behind me. “THIS CONVERSATION ISN’T OVER!” I yelled. Silence. Nothing but silence from the other side.
I groaned in frustration, knowing there was no point in arguing with him right now. Instead, I turned my attention to hauling my things inside before it got too dark.
After I finally finished unpacking and getting everything in order, I belly-flopped onto my bed, exhausted and frustrated. All the perfect plans I had for this year were already crumbling thanks to Eren. Sharing a dorm with him was the last thing I expected, and it felt like everything was ruined before it even began.
Now, all I could do was hope things didn’t spiral further out of control. I just hoped—for my sanity—that living with him wouldn’t be as bad as I feared. But deep down, I had a sinking feeling that hope might be too much to ask for.
-
It’s been almost a month since the semester started, and things have been... weird. But weirdly enough, calm—for now. I haven’t seen or heard much from Eren lately, and honestly, I’m not complaining. The only thing that really pisses me off is that he’s a total slob. It’s such a turn-off, especially for someone who looks the way he does. Some nights, I have to wear noise-canceling headphones just to sleep because of his loud, never-ending gaming sessions. I’ve tried to let it slide, but if I have to endure this for an entire year, I’m seriously doubting whether I’ll make it out alive.
“How’s it with Armin?” I asked Mikasa, picking at my food. We decided to hang out after classes, needing some downtime.
“Oh my god, it’s so nice,” she gushed. “We cook together most of the time, split chores, he helps me study when I need it, and every week, we watch these awful reality TV shows together and laugh our heads off.” She kept going, laughing as she spoke, until she noticed my deadpan expression.
“Oh... shit. My bad,” she giggled, trying—and failing—to hide her amusement.
I rolled my eyes at Mikasa’s enthusiasm. “Well, how is it with Eren?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
I sighed dramatically, stabbing at my food before taking a bite. “The complete opposite of your story,” I muttered.
“That bad?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“Oh yeah, that bad,” I said, launching into a full-blown rant about all the irritating things Eren had done over the past month. It felt good to let it all out. “Like, I don’t get what girls see in him. He’s just a pretty face, that’s it.”
Mikasa nodded, somewhat amused. “Well, Eren’s always been laidback about most things. He always says his charm is his best quality,” she shrugged, going back to her meal.
I scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Like that guy has any charm.”
The rest of the day passed by, and after our little venting session, Mikasa drove me back to the dorm. Just as I was getting out, she leaned over. “Oh, before you go—are you going to Jean’s party tonight?”
Ugh. A party. I could already feel the exhaustion creeping in just thinking about it. “Probably not. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do at home, and let’s be real—the chances of Eren being there are ridiculously high, so... yeah, I’m good,” I said with a shrug.
Mikasa looked disappointed, but I could see she understood. “Fine, but you have to go to the next one with me. Promise?”
I laughed and held out my pinky. “Deal. I’ll be there, I swear.”
She grinned and wrapped her pinky around mine. “Deal,” she said with a smile before driving off.
I quickly headed up to my dorm, pushing the door open with a sigh of relief. Looks like Eren’s not here. He’s probably already left for Jean’s party, I thought, grateful for the peace and quiet. A whole night to myself. Finally.
I grabbed a snack and a drink from the kitchen, then wandered into my room. As I put on some music, the weight of the week started to melt away. I removed my makeup and prepared for my long-overdue everything shower. The kind of self-care I hadn’t indulged in for weeks.
After soaking under the warm water for what felt like forever, I got out, wrapped myself in a towel, and began my skincare routine, singing along to my favorite songs. It felt amazing to be alone and completely in my element.
With my skincare finally on my face, I debated whether to stay up and do something productive or just crash for the night. Nah, I’ll just sleep, I decided, already feeling the exhaustion creep in. I slipped into a pair of soft sleeping shorts and a baggy tank top, sinking into my bed.
As soon as my head hit the pillow, I closed my eyes and drifted into a deep, peaceful slumber, relishing the calm while it lasted.
BANG
I jolted upright in bed, my heart racing as I glanced around, trying to figure out what had startled me awake. What the hell? I whispered to myself, straining to listen. It could be Eren-I really hoped it was, because the alternative was too terrifying to consider. But then I heard something worse: muffled laughter, followed by unmistakable kissing sounds. Oh no. Scratch that, I hope it's a killer.
Eren's door slammed shut, and I clung to the hope that maybe-just maybe-it would all stop there. I tried to force myself back to sleep, convincing myself that I could ignore it. I was so close to drifting off again when the low moans started, followed by soft curses. My eyes flew open, and I groaned into my pillow, Please, for the love of all things, let this nightmare end.
It didn't. The sounds got louder, the bed rhythmically slamming against the wall. I grabbed my headphones, shoved them over my ears, and stuffed a pillow on top of my head, trying to block out the never-ending torture happening just feet away. I lay there, my regret over every life decision that led me here slowly consuming me. This was going to be a very, very long night.
So bright. I blinked against the harsh light streaming through the window, rubbing my eyes. Barely an hour of sleep after a night of absolute torture. The girl had left about twenty minutes ago, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep. Coffee. That’s what I need.
Dragging myself out of bed, I slipped into my slippers to avoid the cold floor and trudged to the kitchen. The coffee was brewing, and I was almost in the clear when I heard Eren’s door creak open. Groaning internally, I rolled my eyes and tried to hurry, hoping to avoid whatever awkward conversation was coming. I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and fished the creamer out of the fridge. Footsteps approached behind me.
“Hey, roomie,” Eren’s voice chimed, way too cheerful for my liking. Don’t punch him, don’t punch him, I chanted silently, eyes fixed on the coffee machine, willing it to finish faster.
“Wow, you look horrible,” he commented, pouring himself a cup with a grin. I shot him a glare.
“Yeah, thanks. I didn’t get any sleep last night,” I muttered, finally pouring my coffee and moving to the table to prepare it. Eren laughed, probably remembering the obnoxious noise from last night. This annoying asshole.
“Didn’t realize you were here. My bad” he said, not sounding sorry at all while grabbing the creamer next to me, a smirk still playing on his lips.
I am not going to survive this year.
“I don’t care what you do, just have some fucking decency,” I shot back, sipping my coffee as I walked back to my room. I could feel Eren’s eyes on me, but I didn’t turn around. Shutting the door behind me, I set the mug on my nightstand and groaned at the thought of the day ahead. No sleep, two essays due, and classes to sit through. Today is going to suck.
I dragged myself to the bathroom, got dressed in something comfy but cute, and grabbed my things. Heading back to the kitchen, I filled a water bottle and rinsed out my coffee mug—then, Unwillingly, Eren’s dirty dishes too. Just as I finished, I heard his door creak open again. Speak of the devil.
“Thanks for washing those,” he said nonchalantly, rummaging through the fridge. “I probably wasn’t going to do it anyway.”
I rolled my eyes, biting back a retort. As I dried my hands with a paper towel, he asked, “Want me to give you a ride to school?”
I blinked, caught off guard. What? “No, I’m good,” I replied sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to deal with the dirty looks from all your fangirls.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” he responded dryly, clearly unamused.
Great start to the day, I thought as I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, not sparing him another glance.
Eren’s footsteps echoed behind me as I stormed off. “You don’t have to back down on my offer—it still stands,” he called out, clearly amused. His voice alone made my blood boil.
Without even turning to face him, I snapped, “You know what offer would actually be great? How about you shut the fuck up at night, pick up your own shit, clean your own damn dishes, and maybe grow some balls while you’re at it?” My voice trembled with frustration, the words flying out before I could even stop them.
I expected him to have some snarky comeback. And, of course, he didn’t disappoint. Eren rolled his eyes, scoffing like my words barely registered. But then, in an instant, he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face him.
“Oh yeah? Let’s talk about you,” he shot back, his voice louder, angrier. “How about you stop having a stick up your ass and acting like you’re my damn mother, stop meddling in my business, and just fucking stop being a damn control freak if a fucking cup isn’t placed in the right spot”
We stood there in the middle of the parking lot, glaring at each other like two wild animals ready to tear each other apart. The tension was palpable, our frustrations bubbling to the surface in a messy, chaotic explosion.
I laughed, but it wasn’t out of amusement—it was out of sheer, exhausted frustration. “I get it, you want that laid-back college life, no responsibilities, carefree and easygoing? That’s not me. I can’t live like that Yeager, so you just have to fucking deal with me.”
I stepped closer, my eyes boring into his. “And if you can’t handle it, then go dorm with someone else. Hell, sneak out and find someone willing to put up with your shit. I don’t care. But don’t expect me to change.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned on my heel and walked away, refusing to look back. Let him stew in his own arrogance. I was done.
After that intense moment with Eren, I decided to walk to campus alone. I didn’t care how long it took, I just needed to cool off, to breathe. The crisp morning air helped, but the frustration still lingered, swirling around in my head. By the time I made it to my first class, I was already dreading being there. But skipping wasn’t an option—I needed to do well. I sighed, taking out my things and finding a corner seat, hoping to be invisible for the rest of the period.
As I was pulling out my notebook, I felt someone sit down next to me. Turning to see who it was, I saw Armin, offering me a friendly smile. "Hey, no one’s sitting here, right?" he asked politely.
“No, don’t worry, you’re good,” I replied, grateful for the company. At least Armin was easy to deal with.
The class started, and after a while, we were given some time to work individually. I dove into my assignments, trying to focus, when Armin spoke up. "You and Eren got into an argument, didn’t you?"
I froze mid-sentence, turning to face him. “How do you know?” I asked, surprised but not totally shocked. Eren had a big mouth.
Armin stopped typing and glanced at me. "He picked me up this morning, and I could tell something was off. When I asked him what was wrong, he kind of… exploded about you. He was pretty worked up."
I groaned internally, rubbing my forehead. "God, I hate him," I muttered. "I don’t get why you’re friends with him. He’s like the devil himself."
Armin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "He’s not all that bad, I promise."
I scoffed at that, going back to my paper. "Then what do I do? I can’t even be in the same room as him without wanting to strangle him."
Armin turned back to me, a thoughtful look on his face. "You just need to give him a chance. Yeah, he can be frustrating, but I swear, if you get past that, you might actually find something you like about him."
I rolled my eyes, thinking, Yeah, like when he shuts up. But I couldn’t help considering what Armin was saying. He made it sound so easy like Eren was just misunderstood or something. Still, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give him a chance when he seemed to go out of his way to drive me crazy.
I sighed, “I don’t know, Armin. It feels like I’m the only one trying here. He doesn’t give me any reason to want to make this work.”
Armin smiled sympathetically. "Maybe he’s not great at showing it, but trust me, he’s not as indifferent as he seems."
I nodded half-heartedly, not fully convinced. As much as I hated to admit it, Armin had a point—there had to be something redeemable about Eren. I just wasn’t sure I was willing to dig deep enough to find it.
Just as I was about to respond to Armin, the bell rang, cutting our conversation short. We both quickly packed up our things. “Just think about what I said, okay? Let me know how it goes,” Armin said as we parted ways. I nodded, though I wasn’t sure how to even start. We said our goodbyes and headed in opposite directions to our next classes.
Finally, lunch arrived. Mikasa had texted me earlier to meet at the cafeteria, so I made my way over. Spotting her quickly, I saw her waving her arm at me from across the room. I hurried over and sat next to her, taking the seat at the edge of the table. “Hey guys,” I greeted with a smile, placing my things down. The usual group was there—Mikasa, Sasha, Annie, Connie, and Niccolo.
As soon as I sat down, we were all deep in conversation, laughing about the most random things. Connie groaned dramatically, slumping over the table. “Ugh, I’m totally going to fail Mr. Ackerman’s class. It's like he’s speaking some alien language,” he grumbled, earning a round of laughter from the group.
Sasha, in her usual fashion, was busy shoveling food into her mouth as she snuggled up next to Niccolo. "Yeah, I don’t know how to help you with that, buddy," she managed to say between bites, drawing more laughs.
Just as we were settling into our groove, Jean, Armin, and Eren walked up to the table. Jean slid in next to Connie, while Armin took the seat next to Annie, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Eren, to my mild annoyance, sat down next to Armin, but I tried to ignore him, focusing on my drink instead.
“Why the hell did you guys take so long?” Connie asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair.
“Don’t look at me,” Jean quickly replied, jabbing a thumb toward Armin and Eren. “These two took forever talking about something.”
Talking? About what? I wondered, sipping my drink to cover my curiosity. I glanced briefly at Armin, who seemed to give me a look that said, I’ll tell you later. Eren, on the other hand, was focused on picking at his food, not making eye contact with anyone. Whatever it was, I could feel tension lingering between us, like unfinished business hanging in the air. But right now, surrounded by friends and laughter, I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with it.
Mikasa squeezed my arm, her excitement contagious. "Oh my god, we need to go do something soon! I’ve been dying for some girl time." Before I could respond, Sasha perked up, practically bouncing in her seat. “Ooh, ooh, me and Annie too!” she added loudly, making Annie chuckle as she gave a small nod of agreement. Mikasa smiled and nodded, and we all quickly made plans for next week. It felt good to look forward to something light and fun, especially after the chaos of the morning.
As we continued talking, I found myself glancing over at Eren, who was in deep conversation with Armin and Annie. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed serious, their faces unusually focused. I looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of curiosity.
“Shit, time’s almost up,” Niccolo suddenly announced, snapping us all out of our conversations. Everyone checked their phones for the time. Some of us had one more class left, while others, like me, were done for the day. I silently celebrated the fact that I didn’t have any more obligations. We all began packing up and saying our goodbyes, and I decided to take the long way home, wanting to enjoy a walk with my music.
While I was about to start walking away from campus, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I pulled out one earbud and turned around, already dreading who it might be. Of course, it was Eren.
I sighed and, without a word, put my earbud back in, continuing to walk. But he wasn’t letting me go that easily. "Wait," he called after me. I stopped but didn’t bother turning around this time. “What?” I asked, my tone flat, trying to keep the distance between us.
"Come on, I’ll give you a ride," he offered. I shot back with a quick, “No thanks,” and started walking again. I really didn’t want to deal with him right now.
But then he grabbed my arm and spun me around, clearly more frustrated than before. “God, if you keep walking, I swear...” he muttered, closing his eyes for a second as if trying to control his temper.
I yanked my arm out of his grip and crossed them over my chest. “What is it, Eren?” I asked, exasperated.
“Let me give you a ride as an apology. For this morning,” he said, softer now, looking at me more earnestly. “We literally live together.” I stared at him, weighing my options. I really wanted to say no, to just keep walking and avoid the whole situation. But Armin’s words from earlier crept into my mind. Maybe this could be the start of finding that “something” Armin seemed so sure I’d like about Eren.
“Fine,” I muttered, feeling like I might regret this decision but going along with it anyway.
He led the way to his car, and we both got in, the tension settling in as soon as the doors closed. The awkwardness between us was suffocating, and I instantly regretted not just walking home. The car felt too small, like the air was thicker, and the silence was far from comfortable. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and rested my head against the seat, turning to look out the window. The sound of the engine humming was the only noise, and it only made the silence feel heavier.
The longer we drove in that silence, the more anxious I felt. My fingers tapped lightly on my knee as I tried to distract myself, but all I could think about was how I just wanted this ride to be over. I thought about breaking the silence but I didn’t even know where to start. Every second dragged on, my thoughts running wild, wondering what he was thinking, and why he insisted on driving me. But mostly, I wondered how much longer this silent, awkward drive would last.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, stealing a quick glance at Eren out of the corner of my eye. He had his hands gripping the wheel, his knuckles turning slightly white, and his jaw was clenched like he was holding something back. I could tell he wanted to say something, but knowing Eren, he’d probably just stay stubbornly quiet. The silence between us stretched until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“So… you’ve been pretty quiet,” I said, breaking the ice, my voice sounding a little shakier than I wanted it to. I didn’t even know why I was trying to make small talk. Maybe it was the tension, or maybe it was what Armin said earlier, not sure.
He didn’t respond immediately, and for a second, I thought he was going to keep ignoring me. Then, without looking at me, he spoke. “I didn’t mean to piss you off this morning,” he muttered, his voice low, almost like he was trying not to be overheard by his own thoughts.
That caught me off guard. I didn’t expect an apology, not from Eren. He usually doubled down or shrugged things off like they didn’t matter. “You didn’t piss me off,” I said, almost reflexively, but even I knew that was a lie.
He let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “Don’t lie. I know I did. I get it. I’m messy, I’m loud, and I don’t pick up after myself. But it’s not like you’re perfect either, you know?” His voice had an edge to it, but there was something softer underneath, something that almost sounded like guilt.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Part of me wanted to keep arguing, to tell him he had no idea how difficult he made things for me, but another part of me wanted to understand why he was even bothering to apologize now. I opened my mouth to speak but then closed it, feeling the lump in my throat rising.
“I didn’t say I was perfect,” I finally admitted. “I’m just… tired, Eren. Tired of all of it.” My voice was quiet, almost defeated, as I stared out the window again. “I didn’t come here to play house with you or deal with this constant tension between us. It’s exhausting.”
The car fell back into silence, but this time, it wasn’t the same awkward, heavy silence as before. It felt different like both of us were waiting for the other to say something real for the first time.
Eren’s grip on the steering wheel loosened a little. “I know,” he said softly. “I didn’t expect to… I don’t know, live like this either. I thought it’d be different. Easier.” His voice trailed off for a moment, and I could see him wrestling with his thoughts.
I turned to look at him, my eyebrows knitting together. “Then why do you act like you don’t care? Like none of this matters to you?” The frustration was clear in my voice now, bubbling up from everything I’d been holding back for so long.
Eren took a deep breath. “I do care,” he said quietly. “It’s just… I’m not good at showing it. Not with all this other stuff going on.” He paused, glancing at me quickly before looking back at the road. “There’s more happening than just you and me fighting over dishes and who’s more responsible. I’ve got my own shit to figure out.”
His words caught me off guard again. I knew Eren had his own struggles, but he’d never been the type to talk about them. He always kept things bottled up until they exploded in moments like this morning.
For a second, I considered asking him what was really going on, but something held me back. Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was just knowing that neither of us was ready to really open up yet. Instead, I let out a sigh and leaned back in the seat.
“We’ve got to figure something out,” I said quietly, almost more to myself than to him. “This isn’t working.”
“I know,” he replied, his voice just as soft. “I’ll try harder. But I need you to meet me halfway.”
The tension between us hadn’t completely disappeared, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like we were actually getting somewhere. Maybe it wasn’t a solution, not yet, but it was a step. And that was more than I’d expected when I got into the car with him.
I was going to answer back, but it seemed like we already made it back to the dorm, so I just kept quiet for now. After that talk, things started getting a bit more normal, I think? Even though we’d been giving each other space, I couldn’t help but wonder if things were really as normal as they seemed. The lack of arguing didn’t mean things were fixed, and I knew ignoring the tension wouldn’t make it go away. I sighed, brushing away the thoughts of Eren as my phone buzzed again with more messages from the girls’ group chat. Tonight was supposed to be a break from everything, a night to let loose and enjoy myself, but my mind was stuck on him.
MIKA: Okayyy are you guys ready??
MIKA: Omg, we need to take a ton of pictures tonight!
Me: YES, just gotta put my shoes on
SASH: Girl, I’m already dressed and looking too fine, Annie is with me and also ready to goooo.
HISTORIA: Ymir and I are ready as well, and we’re bringing drinks for pregame 🥂.
MIKA: Okay here’s how it's going to go, First I pick up Sasha and Annie, then Historia and Ymir, then lastly Eren’s lover! Okay, we are good to go🥳
Me: Excuse me who are you picking up last?
HISTORIA: ooo did we miss anything??
YMIR: Spill now.
MIKA: 🙄
MIKA: yk we are going to talk about it
Me: Yeah I think I’m going to make a rain check for this girl's night
MIKA: No you're not ☺️, Leaving my house right now, I’ll be there in 10 so get your cute ass ready 💋.
I rolled my eyes, but a small grin tugged at my lips. If anyone could pull me out of a funk, it was Mikasa and the rest of the girls. Despite the swirling thoughts about Eren, I knew tonight would be fun, and maybe that’s what I needed to stop overthinking for a bit.
Grabbing my jacket and bag, I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror. Satisfied with my outfit and makeup, I headed to the kitchen for a quick snack—no way was I about to drink on an empty stomach. I grabbed a bag of chips, poured some into a bowl, and leaned against the counter while snacking. As I reached for another handful, a few chips slipped through my fingers and scattered on the floor. I sighed and bent down to pick them up.
Just then, Eren’s door swung open. I froze, hearing his voice cut through the silence. He was on the phone.
“Armin, I’m serious about this,” he said, clearly frustrated, pacing in the living room. Armin’s voice was faint, but I could still make out his response.
“Okay, okay, I get it. But you’re acting like it’s a big deal. She’s just a person, man. Talk to her like an adult,” Armin laughed.
“I swear I’ll come over and beat the shit out of you,” Eren replied in an eerily calm tone.
“Alright, alright, sorry,” Armin muttered.
There was a long pause, and then Eren spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “I don’t know, man. Ever since that conversation in the car, I’ve had this weird feeling in my chest. It’s driving me insane. That’s why I’ve been ignoring her.”
My heart nearly stopped. Was he talking about me?
I stayed frozen, crouched on the floor, not wanting him to know I’d overheard. But of course, the universe had other plans.
RING. RING. RING.
My phone blared to life, Mikasa’s name lighting up the screen. I panicked, fumbling to silence it, but it was too late. Eren’s footsteps stopped, and I could feel him staring at me. Slowly, I stood up and turned to face him. His expression was a mix of shock and embarrassment as if he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“I-I thought you left,” he stammered, hanging up his own call.
“Uh, yeah… I was just about to.” I grabbed my things in a rush, my mind racing for an exit strategy.
“Wait, hold on,” Eren said, his voice softer now, as if he wanted to explain.
I stopped but didn’t turn around. “Look, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation. I’m sorry. Can we talk about it later? I really need to go.”
“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, sounding just as awkward as I felt.
Without another word, I bolted for the door, not daring to look back.
As soon as I was out the door, my heart was racing. I couldn’t believe I had just overheard Eren talking about me like that, and worse, he knew I’d heard. The whole situation felt surreal. I was barely processing his words, let alone my own feelings about what I’d just witnessed. That “weird feeling in his chest”? What did that even mean? And why did it bother him so much? My mind was spinning as I rushed down the stairs and out of the building.
Mikasa’s car pulled up just in time, the headlights flashing as she waved at me from the driver’s seat. I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness that was still lingering from the interaction with Eren. Getting into the car, I forced a smile, hoping she wouldn’t immediately sense that something was off.
“Ready to party?” she asked, her usual excitement shining through. The girls in the backseat echoed her enthusiasm with cheers and chatter, making it impossible not to smile at least a little.
“Yeah, totally,” I replied, though my voice felt far from convincing. I tried to immerse myself in the energy of the car, but Eren’s words kept replaying in my mind. Why was he feeling weird? Why had he been ignoring me because of it?
As we drove off, I leaned back in my seat, glancing out the window, hoping the night out would help me forget about it for now. But deep down, I knew this wasn’t something that would just go away.
“Here, drink this!” Sasha said, thrusting a cup into my hand. I took it, confused. “Wait, we’re drinking already?” I glanced around at the group, noticing everyone nodding enthusiastically—everyone except Mikasa, of course.
Without much hesitation, I took a sip, letting the alcohol work its magic and pushing my worries to the back of my mind. A few more minutes passed, and we finally parked.
“AHH, we’re here!” Mikasa squealed, grabbing my hand and jumping excitedly. We’d decided to hit up one of the most popular bars in the city for our girls’ night out, and with the alcohol starting to hit me, I was just as excited as she was.
After flashing our IDs, we stepped inside, the heavy bass of the music pulsing through our bodies. Our first stop was the bar, and the night took off from there—two hours of drinking, laughing, dancing, and just letting loose. Eventually, we stumbled to a booth at the back of the bar, another round of drinks in hand.
“Damn, Annie, I didn’t know you could dance like that! Armin is one lucky guy,” Sasha teased, making Annie laugh and wave her hand dismissively.
“Omg, you know what we should talk about?” Historia slurred, clearly tipsy. We all turned to her, curious. Her gaze landed on me. “You,” she said, pointing a wobbly finger in my direction.
“RIGHT! What’s up with this ‘Eren’s lover’ thing? Are you two dating or what?” Ymir asked, smirking as she took a sip of her drink.
I scoffed, “NO.”
“Not yet,” Mikasa added, grinning mischievously.
I groaned and put my head down on the table. “How many times do I have to say it? It’s complicated. We’re basically ignoring each other right now, and when we do talk, it’s just *hiccup* awkward.”
Mikasa leaned in, her voice soft but serious. “Look, I’ve known Eren my whole life. That man is crazy about you.”
“Yeah, crazy enough to drive me crazy,” I mumbled to myself, rolling my eyes.
But to my surprise, Annie spoke up. “I gotta agree with Mikasa. I’ve seen it myself.”
I lifted my head and looked at her, surprised. “Wait, what do you mean?”
“Ooo, this is getting good,” Sasha said, leaning in closer to Historia, while Ymir pulled Historia closer to herself as if they were settling in for some drama.
Annie smiled slyly. “Remember the day he offered to drive you home? That was because Armin and I pushed him to do it. He was nervous about asking you himself.”
I blinked in disbelief. “Nervous? About me?”
Sasha grinned. “Well, well, seems like Eren’s not as smooth as he pretends to be.”
The whole table erupted in laughter, but my mind was spinning. Eren, nervous? Over me? I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it added a layer to things I hadn’t seen before.
“You know what would solve all your problems with Yeager?” Ymir asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. I turned to her, my face full of confusion. “You two just need to fuck.”
I choked on my drink, coughing as I shook my head. Well, that sobered me up real quick. “No, no, absolutely not. That’s not gonna happen,” I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin.
“Why not?” Sasha chimed in, wide-eyed with curiosity.
“Yeah, I kind of agree with Ymir,” Historia said, nodding.
Annie, who had been quiet for a while, just smirked and shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”
Great, now I was officially cornered by my friends, all focused on my complicated relationship with Eren. The rest of the night became a blur of drinks and conversations about him—lucky me. By then, I had switched to water, trying to sober up before the night ended.
Around 2 a.m., we decided to call it quits. Ymir, who could hold her liquor like a pro, drove us all home. After she dropped me off, I waved my goodbyes, rolling my eyes at their teasing “good luck” wishes.
Climbing the stairs to my apartment, my mind replayed the night’s conversations, particularly Ymir’s blunt suggestion: You guys need to fuck. I shook my head, trying to push away the ridiculous idea. “Absolutely not,” I muttered to myself.
I unlocked the door quietly, stepping inside. The place was dark, which meant Eren had probably gone to bed. I sighed with relief—no awkward encounters tonight. But as I flicked on the kitchen lights, I jumped at the sight of Eren sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty beer cans.
A small scream escaped me, causing him to stir and sit up groggily, rubbing his eyes.
“Oh my god, you scared me,” I gasped, my heart still racing.
Eren blinked a few times, looking around before his gaze settled on me. “Sorry,” he mumbled, still half-asleep.
I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next, the tension in the air thickening as the awkwardness between us returned.
“What time is it?” he asked, standing up and stretching, giving me a glimpse of his stomach. I quickly looked away, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in my chest.
“2:10,” I muttered quietly. He groaned while picking up the empty beer cans, and tossing them into the bin on the other side of the kitchen.
“You were out for that long?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and irritation.
“Why does it matter to you?” I shot back, crossing my arms defensively. My eyes dropped to the floor, trying to avoid looking at him.
“I’ve been waiting for you to get back. I need to explain that phone call… it’s been eating at me.”
Ugh, no, please. Not tonight.
“Can we do this tomorrow? I’m exhausted,” I said, slipping off my heels, realizing I’d forgotten to leave them at the front door.
“Just listen to me,” he said, ignoring my plea as he launched into his explanation, rambling on about the call. But my mind was elsewhere—on Ymir’s stupid suggestion. I don’t want to sleep with him. He’s irresponsible, reckless, irritating, and infuriating. And his stupid, gorgeous face. His perfect lips. Wait—no. Stop it.
“Are you even listening?” Eren’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He was leaning forward now, his arm resting on the table, his face inches from mine.
“Huh?” I blinked, trying to focus.
He sighed in frustration, dragging his hand down his face. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”
I shrugged, meeting his gaze. “I’ve heard.”
The tension between us was unbearable, thick enough to suffocate. We just stared at each other, the silence stretching until it felt like something had to break.
Finally, I stood up, breaking eye contact. “Well, if this conversation’s over, I’m going to my room.”
I turned to leave, but before I could take another step, Eren grabbed my arm and spun me around. Without warning, his hands cupped my face, and in an instant, his lips crashed into mine.
The frustration and tension between us melted away, replaced by a sudden surge of desire. I melted into him, my fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. It was filled with passion, with urgency. Eren’s hands slid to my waist, pulling me even closer as the heat between us intensified. It felt good—too good.
Wait, no. This isn’t right.
I pulled back, my lips still tingling from the lingering sensation of his. Looking up at him, I saw the confusion in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hand resting on my hip.
“N-No… this can’t happen,” I stammered, taking a step back, though I already regretted leaving his warmth. “This whole situation is confusing enough, and this… this will only make it worse.”
He sighed, his gaze still locked on mine, intense and unwavering. The silence between us stretched, awkward, and charged with the things we weren’t saying. Slowly, Eren stepped forward, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear before cupping my shoulders and pulling me in once again.
But this time, it wasn’t for a kiss on the lips.
He kissed my forehead, soft and slow, then my nose, my cheek, my jaw, and finally my neck. Each kiss was deliberate, lingering, and my breath hitched as his lips moved lower. His hands followed, trailing down my body with maddening precision. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Eren was intoxicating, overwhelming every corner of my mind and soul.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispered against my neck, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. His kisses grew more intense, and I snapped back to reality, realizing just how deep I was falling.
Oh god.
The kisses trailed higher once again, prompting me to wrap my arms around his neck. He stared at me, his voice barely above a whisper, "Do you want this?" Without thinking, I blurted, "Fuck yes."
A smile played on his lips as he claimed mine once more, his need growing with every passing second. Just as I was about to pull back and suggest we move to his room, he deepened the kiss. His hands gripped my ass, lifting me effortlessly as he strode towards my room. This Fucker. The door slammed shut behind us, and he laid me down on the bed, breaking the kiss to gaze down at me. I panted, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come.
"God, you drive me crazy, you know that," he murmured, his lips returning to my neck in a passionate kiss. I couldn't help the small moan that escaped me, lost as I was in his touch, his words, his games. Maybe I should have been embarrassed by how easily he got under my skin, but at that moment, I simply didn't care.
He pulled back yet again, leaving me breathless and wanting. Before I could even process my thoughts, he'd stripped off his shirt and tossed it across my room. Any words I might have had abandoned me, leaving me staring at his incredible physique in stunned silence. "Wow, all of this finally gets you to shut up for a second, maybe I should’ve fucked you earlier" he teased, pulling me upright and claiming my mouth in another scorching kiss. His hands found the zipper of my dress and slid it down, the sound echoing in the room.
He slipped the dress over my head, his hands gentle as he eased me back onto the bed. "Yeah, you should’ve," I finally managed to retort, my voice muffled against his lips.
His hands moved behind my back once more, but this time, his focus was on my bra. With a practiced touch, he unfastened it with a single hand. "How many girls have you done that to?" I teased, trying to sound collected despite the flutter in my chest. "Does it matter?" he countered, his voice low and husky. "The only person I'm going to do it for from now on is you baby."
He slid the bra straps down my arms, his fingers grazing my skin and sending shivers through me. As he bared me to his gaze, he leaned in, his lips tracing a path from my collarbone to the swell of my right breast. "Oh, gosh, Eren," I breathed, his warm tongue setting my nerves ablaze. He didn't neglect my left side, his hand cupping and squeezing my flesh as his mouth worked its magic.
My mind was short-circuited, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through me. I couldn't believe how my day had derailed, from waking up alone to Eren worshiping my body. He finally lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with desire as he stood and licked his lips. "God, you're gorgeous," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek, then my lips, the contact making me ache for more.
My hand instinctively reached for him, finding the hard length of his erection straining against his pants. He groaned into my mouth, his hips rolling into my touch as he pressed himself against me. "F-Fuck," he panted, laughter threading through the curse. He guided my hand deeper into his hard length, then higher to explore his chest, his nipples peeking under my touch, then lastly to his lips, where he pressed light kisses to the middle of my palm. At that moment, I knew I was a goner.
He gently laid my hand back down to my chest. Standing upright, he began to unbutton his pants, swiftly removing them. For a moment, I felt no shame in staring. But then I met his gaze, his eyes watching my every move, and a flutter of anxiety rose in my chest. I wasn't sure where to look next.
He bent back down, his lips brushing against my jaw as his hands slid lower, to the hem of my panties. "May I?" he asked, his voice soft. I nodded without hesitation. "I need words, baby," he said, looking back at me with an intense heat in his eyes. "Yes," I replied quickly. "Yes, please."
Eren pressed one more sweet kiss to my lips, his mouth trailing lower and lower as he slid my panties down my legs. He moved lower, his face inches from mine, his lips pressing gentle kisses around my center. I felt myself growing wetter, my breath catching. "Eren, please," I begged, my fingers tangling in his hair.
"Please what? What do you need sweet girl?" Eren asked, looking up at me. His nicknames always made my heart flutter, even if I wouldn't admit it out loud. I took a deep breath, pushing past my embarrassment. "I need you to fuck me," I admitted. "I need you inside me."
He didn't make me wait for his response. With a groan, Eren's tongue slid along my center, sucking my clit into his mouth as he spread my legs wider. I cried out, my hips arching off the bed. "Holy shit, Eren, don't stop," I begged and whined, my fingers pulling him closer. He moaned against me, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through me. I hadn't felt this good in years.
Eren didn’t stop, and it felt so fucking good. It just went on with his tongue for a few more minutes, my whole body in bliss, pulling me closer to my climax. “Fuck Eren, it's so good, your so good,” I said moving my hips to match his pace, moaning too loud. I bit my lip looking down at him between my legs, then I noticed his hips slowly rolling onto my bed. Before thinking anymore he pushed a finger into me, pushing it in and out. “Cumming, I’m cumming, FUCK!” I said whining, my knees buckled while going through my high. He left my core, all swollen and wet.
My eyes started to shut, exhaustion was hitting me pretty fast after calming down. “Hey hey,” Eren said kissing my face, his kisses were soft, yet filled with a fiery passion that sent shivers down my spine. “Just a little longer, Do sleep yet baby” I opened my eyes, “We still aren’t done yet”.
He chuckled, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “You’re adorable when you’re sleepy.” I rolled my eyes playfully, but the affection in his gaze made my heart flutter.
Kissing me again, I could taste myself on him and I basically melted in his touch. Wrapping my arms around him, I savored the moment.
“I can’t wait any longer,” I whispered, my hands starting to trail down his abs, moving lower to his underwear band. Without hesitation, I pulled it down not wanting to wait, eager to finally feel him. He helps me and yanks it off of him. The sheer size of his dick made me worried on if it will fit or not. I gripped the tip softly and he bucks his hips instantly, “Shit” He said closing his eyes and encouraging me to continue.
While doing that I swiftly grabbed a condom from my drawer giving it to him. “You just have these laying in your room?” he spoke out while tearing it open, moving my hand away and rolling it on himself, “You never know, always gotta be safe,” I said while holding on to his arms for support. “Even during sex your just as a goody to shoes” making me frown, “Kidding, It’s cute baby” he smiled kissing me while rubbing his tip in between my cunt.
"I'll go in slow, okay? Let me know if it hurts," he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine.
"O-Okay," I managed to say, breathless and nervous.
He started with his tip, and we both groaned in pleasure. The pain was there, but it felt so good. Inch by inch, he went deeper, and my eyes rolled back with every second. His fingers gripped my thighs as he finally bottomed out. His face was in my neck, breathing heavily, and I had my hands around his back, ready for him to move.
Without a word, he started thrusting harder and harder. "F-Fuck," he gasped. "You're so t-tight and warm, fuckkk." He rolled his head back, grabbing both my legs and placing them on his shoulders.
"So good, fuck Eren!" I exclaimed, grabbing his face in my hands.
"Yeah? You like it when I fuck your greedy pussy like this?" he asked, thrusting harder. I couldn't breathe anymore. I nodded fast.
"Yes, yes, your fucking dick feels amazing, oh my god," I moaned uncontrollably.
I felt close, but I knew I never wanted this to end.
It was too much—overwhelming, yet I savored every second of it. My heart raced, and I found myself biting down on my finger, then my hand, my lip—anything to try and ground myself in that moment. But it was all too good, scrambling my brain, leaving no room for coherent thoughts or words. I was lost, completely consumed by the sensation, and I didn’t want to find my way back.
“S-Shit if you keep squeezing me like that I’ll fucking cum, ughh” he groaned picking up his pace basically making me lose all my air. “E-Eren mhmm!” Moans escaping my mouth every second I have a desire to open my mouth. “Yeah keep screaming my name out like that baby” he said pushing his head in the curve of my neck, his cock was abusing my cunt, I didn’t know if I can take this much longer.
The little noises he let out in my ears is what did it for me, making me cum hard and fast. My nails clawing erens back made me lose my mind, then seconds later I felt eren finish into the condom whining in my ear.
The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, both of us still tangled together, with Eren still inside me. I wrapped my arms around him, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting to face reality just yet. I had just slept with Eren Yeager—my roommate. Damn it, Ymir was right.
-
Ugh, it’s so bright. My tired eyes squinted against the morning light streaming through the curtains, forcing me awake. I looked around, making sure I was in my own room. It didn’t even matter—my head was pounding from last night. The girls’ night out, and… something else. Oh shit.
Slowly, I turned over, dreading what I’d see. There he was. Eren, peacefully asleep, in my bed, his head resting on my pillows. Someone pinch me.
I sank deeper into my sheets, replaying all the memories from last night. It felt like a fever dream. I had seen another side of Eren—one that I knew, deep down, I’d crave from now on. I’d wanted to give him a chance to fix our relationship, to build something like a healthy roommate bond, but now that he was half-naked in my bed, that plan had gone out the window.
My head throbbed as my mind clouded with thoughts of how things would play out. Could I let Eren into my heart, or was I too scared to face what that might mean? The overthinking only made my headache worse. I needed to stop spiraling.
Before I could dwell any further, I felt his arms wrap around me, making me freeze. The racing thoughts stopped. Eren’s breath tickled my hair as he pulled me closer, his hold gentle but firm, grounding me in the moment.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”Eren whispered into my ear, his lips trailing soft kisses along my shoulder. His breath was warm against my skin, and I felt the tension in my chest tighten. Do I tell him the truth? Should I just stay quiet for now?
“Just tell me,” he urged, pulling me closer. His touch was reassuring, but my thoughts were still a mess. I turned to face him, my heart pounding, and caught his gaze. He smiled at me, his lips brushing against mine before pulling back slightly to kiss the tip of my nose.
“Hey,” I said awkwardly, returning a soft smile.
“What’s up?” He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering for a moment. I hesitated again before asking, “What… what are we, Eren?”
His brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. I braced myself, nervous about his response.
“Want me to be honest?” He traced a finger gently across my cheek. I nodded, holding my breath.
“I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I know things have been messy, and I’ll work on it. I’ll fix my attitude, be better about my habits—whatever it takes. I just want to be with you. I’ll take you on real dates, buy you flowers, get your favorite food… just give me a chance.”
He wrapped his arms around me again, pulling me into a tight embrace. His words dissolved all my worries and hitting me hard, breaking down every wall I had tried to keep up. He was nervous, but honest, and I could feel the weight of his sincerity. I couldn’t help but giggle at his heartfelt confession.
“Yes,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’d love to give us a chance.”
Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly, laying me back onto the bed, positioning himself above me. His kisses trailed along my jawline, and I laughed as he showered my face with affection, feeling a warmth spread through me.
Later that morning, while lying tangled in the sheets, I grabbed my phone and sent Ymir a quick text: “You were right.”
I glanced over at Eren, his hand still intertwined with mine as he lazily traced circles on my skin.
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
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miryum · 11 months ago
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A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)
An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful
Word Count: 10.3k
I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing
Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm
From the desk of Ginevra
My dearest friend,
My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious. 
My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter. 
I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends. 
I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly. 
Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree. 
I love you, my friend.
Ginny
From the office of Lorenzo
Miss. L/n,
I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world. 
You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you. 
Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother. 
Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect. 
For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.
Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.
I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.
I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.
Lorenzo Berkshire
P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.
From the office of L/n
Daughter,
You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.
We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing. 
Your father
From the desk of Ginevra
Y/n,
You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright. 
Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.
Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.
Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.
Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well. 
Best wishes, 
Ginny
P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours  myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable. 
***
Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.
The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated. 
For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.
But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close. 
Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms. 
The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows. 
Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’ 
No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were. 
The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”
Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.” 
Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth. 
As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.
***
“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.
“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family. 
“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.
“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”
Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”
Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?” 
Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…” 
She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”
You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son. 
While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.
Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.
The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.
“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy. 
Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.
Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?
If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.
Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question. 
“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue. 
Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…” 
He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger. 
It seemed too concrete to fathom.
Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.
***
Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.
In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed. 
Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.
Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates. 
You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.
You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?
While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.
It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.
With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care. 
Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.
Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.
You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.
Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.
“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him. 
You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.
As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.
You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”
He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.
You simply uttered, “okay.” 
Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.
A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.
Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.
“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.
Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour. 
“Goodnight,” you reiterated. 
Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you. 
He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?” 
It was too late now to apologise.
***
Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?” 
“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”
“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” 
“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.” 
Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.” 
You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”
He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”
“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”
Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”
After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”
His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”
“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”
Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”
Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.
Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”
For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”
He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”
“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.
He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.
Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.
Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him. 
Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence. 
One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.
A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library. 
After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?” 
Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”
Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.
You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.
Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”
You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”
Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.
You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”
Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”
As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.
Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”
Mattheo saw red. 
He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.” 
Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm. 
Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze. 
“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.
Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.
You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”
Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.” 
“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied. 
Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”
“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”
Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.
After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene. 
You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.
Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.
You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up. 
After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”
“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall. 
Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him. 
You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”
Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.
You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”
Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.
***
Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”
The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read. 
Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.
“Reading,” you said simply. 
Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.
“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”
Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”
“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.
Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.
One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?” 
You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”
Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered. 
“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.
He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble. 
You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.
He rather liked it when you smiled.
***
“Are you alright?”
You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”
Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”
“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly. 
“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”
You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?” 
You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.
For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit. 
“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.
Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer." 
There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?” 
Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.
He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children. 
You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.
Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.
“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.
Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less." 
“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously. 
Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.
You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”
Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."
“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”
"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?" 
“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.
Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you. 
Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”
Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much… 
Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how. 
"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune. 
“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.
"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."
***
The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.
It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted. 
There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.
Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.
“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.
“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.
“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.
“How was the dinner?”
Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”
“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.
“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”
“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”
Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”
A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”
Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin. 
“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.” 
Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”
Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”
“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss. 
His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his. 
Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”
Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”
“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.
You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”
Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”
***
The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.
“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.
Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”
“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”
“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.
Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!” 
Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”
“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.
“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”
“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid. 
“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”
Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.
Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”
“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”
“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck. 
“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes. 
“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?”  Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline. 
You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.
“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.
Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”
“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled. 
“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.
“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”
Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.
“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”
Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”
“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”
“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.
Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”
You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”
“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.
You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”
“Always.”
2K notes · View notes
sunrenity · 4 months ago
Text
BITTER AND SWEET  、SJY
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ㅤ୨ৎㅤ after fake dating you for a few months, sim jake thinks he's actually fallen for you, that maybe his small crush is not so small anymore.
sim jakeㅤ✶ㅤfemale readerㅤ 。。。 ㅤfake dating, enemies(?) to lovers, fluff, college auㅤⓘㅤkissing, skinship, angst(?), ends on a cliffhanger i thinkㅤwcㅤ2847ㅤℬookshelfㅤzehra's note.ㅤthis jake has me giggling and kicking my feet…
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you never thought you'd find yourself in a situation like this, and certainly not with someone like jake sim. the whole idea of fake dating was ludicrous, but desperate times called for desperate measures. your clingy ex had become a problem, and apparently, so had jake’s. you two couldn't stand each other on most days, but this scheme seemed mutually beneficial enough to warrant a temporary truce.
"are you seriously suggesting this?" jake asked, leaning back against the library table and crossing his arms. his tone was incredulous, almost mocking, as if he couldn't believe he was even entertaining the idea.
"yes, i am," you replied firmly, not breaking eye contact. the library was quiet except for the occasional rustle of paper or click of a keyboard. "it's the only way to get our exes off our backs. pretend to date, make it look convincing, and they'll eventually give up."
jake scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair, the strands falling perfectly back into place. "and what happens when they find out it's all a sham?"
you shrugged. "by then, it won’t matter. they’ll have moved on."
he stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. finally, he sighed. "alright. let's do it. but we set some ground rules."
"obviously," you agreed. "rule one: we keep this strictly business. no real feelings involved."
"agreed. rule two: we make sure we’re seen together in public, but no over-the-top pda. it needs to look natural."
"fine with me. rule three: we communicate. if something isn’t working, we discuss it."
jake nodded. "deal."
the first few weeks were awkward, to say the least. you had to learn each other’s habits, preferences, and little quirks. it was like an accelerated crash course in getting to know someone you supposedly hated.
one afternoon, you were seated at a picnic table on campus, pretending to enjoy a lazy afternoon together. jake handed you a coffee, the familiar scent wafting up from the cup. “i noticed you always get it with two sugars and a splash of milk,” he said, his tone almost nonchalant.
you blinked, surprised. “thanks. i didn’t realize you paid attention.”
he shrugged, sitting down next to you. “i figure if we’re going to pull this off, we need to know these things.”
the campus was bustling with activity: students chatting, bikes whizzing by, and groups studying on the lawn. you and jake needed to blend in, so you leaned into him slightly, your shoulder brushing against his. he stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, putting an arm around your shoulders. to anyone else, you looked like a perfectly happy couple, but to your friends, it was a carefully crafted illusion.
weeks turned into months, and you both fell into a routine that felt oddly comfortable. your exes had seemingly taken the bait, backing off as they saw you and jake together more often. the initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a strange kind of camaraderie.
"how was your day?" jake asked one evening as you walked together down a tree-lined street. the sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. it was one of those rare moments when you felt at ease around him.
you glanced at him, noting the genuine curiosity in his eyes. "not bad. busy, but manageable. what about you?"
he shrugged. "same old. classes, practice, more classes." he paused, looking at you with a small smile. "but hey, at least we’re fooling everyone, right?"
you laughed softly. "yeah, we are."
jake's hand brushed against yours as you walked, and without thinking, you entwined your fingers with his. it was supposed to be just another part of the act, but something about it felt different this time. the touch lingered, warm and reassuring, sending a shiver down your spine.
a few days later, jake suggested a movie night at his place, a plan that you quickly agreed to. you arrived at his dorm to find it unexpectedly cozy. he had dimmed the lights, set up a stack of your favorite movies, and even had snacks laid out.
"wow, you went all out," you remarked, genuinely impressed by the effort he had put in.
jake chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. "well, i figured if we’re going to do this, we might as well enjoy it, right?"
you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. as the evening wore on, you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. you and jake settled into the couch, the distance between you shrinking until you were practically leaning on him.
midway through the second movie, you felt jake’s gaze on you. you turned to find him looking at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. the flickering light from the tv cast shadows across his face, highlighting the seriousness in his eyes.
"what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart racing.
he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "nothing. just… you’re not as bad as i thought."
you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide your smile. "gee, thanks. you’re not so terrible yourself."
the moment stretched on, the air thick with unspoken words. without realizing it, you had moved closer, your faces inches apart. you could feel the warmth of his breath, see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you in that moment.
before you could think better of it, you closed the gap, pressing your lips to his. for a heartbeat, everything stopped. then jake responded, his kiss gentle but filled with a surprising amount of emotion. his hand came up to cradle your face, his touch tender and careful, as if he was afraid you might disappear.
you melted into the kiss, the sensation of his lips against yours sending a thrill through your entire body. time seemed to stand still, the world outside fading into oblivion. all that mattered was the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, and the unspoken connection that seemed to blossom between you.
when you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your hearts pounding in sync. jake’s thumb traced your cheek, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.
"is this still part of the act?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
the realization fully sank in as you looked into his eyes, your own emotions swirling within you. you had kissed jake sim, and it had felt more real than anything you had experienced before. but why did it also feel so wrong? panic gripped you, a surge of confusion and fear making your chest tighten. you weren't ready to confront these feelings, not yet.
without thinking again, you blurted out, "yes," the word escaping your lips like a lifeline to sanity. you stood up abruptly, almost knocking over the bowl of popcorn on the table, and began gathering your things. your movements were frantic, desperate to escape the suffocating tension that had settled between you.
jake's expression shifted from vulnerable to hurt, his eyes widening in shock. "wait, what? why?" he stammered, standing up as well. "i thought we were—"
"i need to go," you cut him off, your voice trembling. "i… i can't do this right now, jake. i'm sorry."
you grabbed your bag and rushed to the door, your heart hammering in your chest. jake reached out, his fingers grazing your arm. "please, just talk to me," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "don't just leave like this."
you paused, your hand on the doorknob, torn between the urge to run and the need to explain. taking a deep breath, you turned to face him, your eyes filled with turmoil. "i… i need time to think," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "this wasn't supposed to happen. i wasn't supposed to feel like this."
jake's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "feel like what?" he asked, his voice raw with emotion.
"like i care about you," you admitted, the words heavy with truth. "this was supposed to be fake, remember? just an act. but now… i don't know what's real anymore."
jake took a step closer, his gaze intense. "and that scares you?"
you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "yes. because if this is real, then everything changes. and i'm not ready for that."
he reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "we can figure this out together," he said softly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "but you don't have to run. not from me."
the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes, it all made you want to believe him. but the fear of getting hurt, of losing control, was overwhelming. you stepped back, breaking the contact. "i just need some time," you whispered. "please, jake."
he let his hands fall to his sides, his expression one of resigned understanding. "okay," he said quietly. "take all the time you need. i'll be here."
you gave him a grateful, albeit shaky, smile before turning and walking out the door. the night air was cool against your flushed skin as you made your way down the street, your mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. the kiss had been a catalyst, forcing you to confront feelings you had buried deep down. and now, you needed to sort through them, figure out what was real and what was just the remnants of your fake relationship.
days slowly turned into a week, and you found yourself constantly replaying that night in your mind. every touch, every word, every emotion. it was maddening. you avoided jake on campus, not ready to face him or your own feelings. but everywhere you went, you saw reminders of him. the coffee shop where you had shared quiet mornings, the library where your plan had first taken shape, the park bench where you had laughed and talked like real friends. the line between pretense and reality had become so blurred that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other.
for jake, the transition back to his usual routine was almost seamless. on the surface, it was as if nothing had changed. he went to classes, attended practice, and hung out with his friends. yet, there was a persistent undercurrent of something new and unsettling — thoughts of you and the kiss you shared haunted him.
he couldn't get the kiss out of his head. the way your lips moved perfectly in sync with his, creating a rhythm that felt both natural and electrifying. the soft, delicate texture of your lips was like a whisper against his own, sending shivers down his spine. he remembered the warmth that radiated from you, a gentle heat that seeped into his skin and settled in his chest. the faint taste of your lip balm lingered on his tongue, a subtle hint of vanilla mixed with something uniquely you.
he couldn't forget the way his heart had raced as he felt your breath mingle with his, the soft exhale between kisses like a shared secret. every touch, every brush of your lips, had sent a thrill through him, igniting a spark that refused to die down even after you pulled away.
despite his attempts to focus on his usual activities, the memory of that kiss was a constant distraction, a nagging thought that refused to fade.
"whatcha thinking about?" jay asked, breaking jake out of his reverie. they were sitting in the campus coffee shop, the familiar scent of brewing coffee mingling with the chatter of students.
jake blinked, trying to act casual. "nothing much," he muttered, stirring his drink absentmindedly.
jay leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "come on, jake. we all know the real reason you agreed to this fake dating thing wasn't just to get your ex off your back."
sunghoon nodded, his smirk widening. "yeah, you've had a crush on her for ages. this was your chance to get closer to her."
jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. he had confided in jay and sunghoon about his feelings for you a long time ago, back when you two couldn't stand each other — which, admittedly, wasn't all that long ago, he thinks. being with his ex had complicated things, but the crush never went away. agreeing to the fake dating scheme had seemed like a golden opportunity, despite the initial tension.
"okay, fine," jake admitted, his voice low. "i did want to get closer to her. but now… everything's so messed up."
jay's expression softened. "what happened? you guys seemed to be getting along really well."
jake hesitated, then relented. "we kissed. i don't even remember who initiated it. but it felt real, and now she's avoiding me. i don't know what to do."
sunghoon's teasing demeanor faded, replaced by genuine concern. "have you tried talking to her?"
jake nodded. "i did, but she said she needed time to think. i get it, this whole thing is confusing, but i can't stop thinking about her."
jay leaned back in his chair, thinking. "maybe she just needs some space to sort through her feelings. this whole fake dating thing probably stirred up a lot for both of you."
sunghoon nodded in agreement. "yeah, just give her some time. in the meantime, don't overthink it. sometimes people just need a little distance to figure things out."
jake sighed again, feeling a bit more reassured by his friends' advice but still uncertain about the future. "i hope you're right. i don't want to lose her, even as just a friend."
the space jake had given you made you think he had forgotten about you, that the act was, in fact, just an act. a month had passed without speaking to each other, and it felt like an eternity. you couldn't help but wonder if everything you had felt was one-sided.
jake had been on your mind constantly, every moment replaying in your head like an unending loop. the way he laughed, the way he looked at you, the way his presence alone could make your heart race. yet, the silence between you both was deafening, and it made you doubt everything.
the days seemed to drag on, each one blending into the next. you threw yourself into your studies, hoping the distraction would help, but it was no use.
you sighed as you grabbed your suitcase, preparing to head home for summer break. the hallway of your dorm was nearly empty, the usual bustling energy replaced with an eerie stillness. as you struggled with the heavy suitcase, you heard a familiar voice behind you.
"need some help with that?"
turning around, you saw jake standing there, a tank top clinging to his toned frame. the sight of him took your breath away for a moment, his tan skin glistening slightly in the summer heat.
"jake," you said, a mixture of surprise and confusion in your voice. "what are you doing here?"
he stepped closer, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "i was hoping to catch you before you left. can we talk?"
you nodded, still feeling a bit stunned by his sudden appearance. "sure. what’s up?"
jake ran a hand through his hair, looking a little uncertain. "my parents are in australia, i mean obviously they are, and well, i don't have enough money to buy myself a plane ticket. god, i should've planned better… anyway, i was thinking… maybe i could stay with you for a while? just until i figure something out. i know it's a lot to ask, and it's totally okay if it's not possible, i can find another solution, but i just thought—"
"jake, slow down," you interrupted gently, trying to suppress a smile at his nervous rambling. "it's okay."
he looked relieved but still a bit anxious. "i just… i really miss you, you know? this past month has been hell, and i keep thinking about that night, about everything, and i hate how we left things. i want to fix it, to talk, to see if we can… i don't know, figure things out. together."
your heart softened at his honesty, and seeing him here, hearing him say he missed you, was like a balm to your aching heart. "you can stay with me, jake. we'll figure things out together."
jake’s face lit up with relief and happiness. he took your suitcase from you, easily lifting it as if it weighed nothing. "thanks. you have no idea how much this means to me."
as you walked out of the dorm together, the summer sun beating down on you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. this summer break, which you had dreaded just moments ago, now held the promise of something new and wonderful.
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PERM TLㅤ ✦ㅤ @en-gelic @nishislcve @jakesprincess1 @ivsjake4evr @flwrstqr
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lilacs-stars · 4 months ago
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burning passion of twilight
this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is ariel's daughter and a mermaid) SUMMARY: as an enemy of the infamous pirate captain starts making advances on you, you are caught between the waves of your lover and the beaming rays of light given to you by another. GENRE: yandere, quite a bit of angst, comforting fluff at the end, a touch of spice CW: a bit of cursing, mentions of violence (sword fight, small injuries, threats), mentions of blood (just a few cuts), lots of hurt moments (from arguing), reader gets harassed, jealousy, possessiveness, suggestive material at the end, also uses of the word 'lover' instead of boyfriend or girlfriend because it fit the setting more WC: 5.5k (did I go overboard? ...maybe)
A/N: me? obsessed with this man? yes, yes I am. the things I felt when writing this...ahhh we love ourselves a jealous man. shoutout to everyone who read and supported part 1, I really didn't think people would actually enjoy reading my writing loll. I know this one is kinda long, so please bear with me. also thanks once again to the anon who requested this, this was a super fun idea to do! all feedback and suggestions are highly appreciated, I'd love to know your thoughts!
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“…and then, out of nowhere, BAM! The entire thing explodes!” cries a boy not much older than you, with ginger hair and dressed in a simple green button-up shirt. 
Your entire table erupts in laughter, with you sparing a small giggle. It is early morning, and you are sitting with your usual group in the dining hall. You’re only close friends with a few of them, and merely friendly acquaintances with the others. After all, you aren’t really the extroverted, talkative type. Not like the boy retelling the story of how he pranked the headmaster last quarter, somehow with the same enthusiasm as the first ten times he told it. 
Peter Pan is one of the members of your large group that you aren’t really close with. Although he is considered to be on the “good” side of the hero-villain spectrum, he sure has his mischievous side. 
He is also incredibly extroverted, chatting up anyone he lays his eyes on. Which is why you've always chalked up his attempts to start a conversation with you to his gregarious personality, and nothing more. 
Still, you try your best not to get too close to him. Although James has never directly said anything about him to you, you can sense that there’s some…tension between them. Although he tries to act discreet, you’ve still caught on to the way James glowers at Pan whenever you’re with your group—although he doesn’t take much action, as villains and heroes don’t really mix. How he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight whenever he catches sight of Pan, and even the few times he’s used his hook to pull you into a kiss right in front of the person who appears to be his enemy. Not to mention how he always happens to find you with some urgent matter or other that desperately needs your attention whenever you and Pan are having—or trying to have—a conversation. Although, now that you think about it, James does do that quite often whenever you speak to any guy besides him. 
Pan catches your eye from across the table, and you can tell he’s waiting for some sort of reaction for his latest joke. You give a polite smile, not really knowing what they had been talking about anyways, and turn away to chat with one of your friends. Whatever’s going on between those two, you don’t care, and you sure don’t want to ruffle any feathers. 
Your morning class this semester is Potions and Elixirs 101, in which you happen, by some cruel stroke of fate, to be seated next to the one and only Peter Pan. What is especially annoying about this class—or rather, about your table partner—is that you always end up doing most of the work yourself, being the only one out of your duo that actually listens to instructions. 
The teacher explains how today, your class will be making Shanty Serum, an anti-seasickness remedy. After he goes over the requirements a dozen times, you finally set off on the mission of brewing the potion, which is always done in a pair with your table mate. 
Everything is going fine, of course; you crush the siren teeth into a fine powder, and Pan, following your careful instructions, manages to brew the kraken saliva until it comes to a soft boil. Just as you reach the final steps, you crinkle your nose as a strange smoky odor fills your senses. You look up from your textbook to see your potion, which you worked so hard on, bubbling and overflowing from the cauldron. 
“Ah, I’m so sorry professor! I could have sworn I only put in two unicorn hairs!” Pan cries, jumping back to avoid getting purple goo all over himself. You shoot him a glare, and he adds on, “And I’m sorry to you too, Y/N! I really am!”
You sigh and shake your head, flipping through your textbook to find the page where it explains how to counter excess unicorn hair. Through a bit of luck and a decent amount of skill, you manage to save your potion and not get a terrible grade on it, either. 
The last few minutes of class, Pan walks up to you. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry about earlier. I know you tried really hard to get the potion right, and I just messed it up. God, I’m such a clutz.” He scratches the back of his head as he looks down at his shoes sheepishly. “Hey, but if you’ll let me, I can make it up to you! Say, you got any plans Friday night?”
His eyes light up as he looks at you with a puppy-dog gaze, and your heart melts a little at his attempt for redemption. But then again, you did promise yourself to keep a good distance from him…
“I-I’m, uhm, well, I was planning to study that night,” you say, which isn’t really much of a lie. “I mean, with midterms coming up and whatnot,” you tack on with a bit of an awkward laugh. 
“Saturday night?” Pan pushes, eyes still alight with hope. 
“No, I’m sorry, I’m, uh, I’m going out with friends that night. But maybe some other time?” you flash him an apologetic smile, guilt gnawing at your insides as a result of pushing him away. Honestly, you don’t know why James has it out for the poor guy. He seems like the friendly sort to you. 
You quickly duck away and move to the other side of the classroom, deciding to meet up with some friends to get away from the stifling silence between the two of you. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't be able to resist Pan’s offer if you had stayed behind to see the disappointed, rejected look on his face. Still, you couldn’t help but glance back at his direction, feeling endlessly shameful for your cold actions. 
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You thought that would be the end of that, but little did you realize, in that moment, how wrong you were.
School finally lets out and the afternoon rolls around again, which means you stand patiently waiting in the courtyard again for James. You pace around the water fountain, fingers lightly tracing along the rim, humming a tune under your breath. 
This fountain has always reminded you of the sea, the rolling waves of the ocean, how the cold water brushes against your skin while it hugs you in a tight embrace. Just thinking about swimming makes your legs ache to morph back into a tail and take off into the blue depths. The worst part about going to the Academy, in your opinion, is that it’s so far from any bodies of water that the only times you get to finally enjoy yourself in your mermaid form is when you’re off for the holidays.
Just as you make your way halfway around the fountain, you see something move on the other side of the water out of the corner of your eye. “Y/N?” a voice calls out. 
You walk back around the fountain to be met with… “Pan?” you ask, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I saw you come this way after school, and um, I’ve been feeling really bad the whole day for how I screwed up in P&E earlier,” he explains earnestly. “And so, I was thinking, I really want to make sure that I don’t mess up like that again. For both your sake, and my grades’.” He gives a little chuckle at his joke, before straightening his face out again.
“So, uhm, I was wondering, would you be willing to help me out? You don’t have to fully tutor me or anything, but maybe help me study and give me a few tips?”
There it is again. That spark of hope in his eyes. And honestly, how could you turn him down twice? After how sincerely he apologized earlier, and now with how he’s still thinking of you and trying to prevent himself from causing more trouble. You may have your priorities when it comes to relationships, but you still have morals, too. And there is absolutely no way you can reject him again, especially when he’s so desperate to improve. 
“Well…yeah, all right. I’ll help you out,” you say, trying to force a smile on your face. 
Pan beams, excitement lighting up his features. “Wow, really? Thanks so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it, I swea—”
Pan’s eyes quickly dart to a point above your head, perhaps catching a glimpse of something behind you. Whatever the cause, he stops dead in the middle of his sentence, face dropping. He goes pale for a second, before morphing his features into a hard and cold gaze. Shocked, you turn around to see what could have caused such a sudden change in his demeanor. 
And lo and behold, behind you stands a dark, glowering James, still half-concealed by the shadows behind him. He holds Pan’s cold gaze menacingly with a dark, furious, yet somehow misleadingly calm look of his own. Then, with no warning, he stomps towards you, ensnaring your arm within his hook as he drags you away. You barely catch his grumbled “Come on, we’re leaving” as you stumble backwards from his tug, practically running to keep up with his wide strides. 
He leads you down a number of empty corridors and doesn’t let you go until you finally reach a deserted staircase. The second he stops hauling you away from the courtyard, you yank your arm back to your side, panting from the difficulty of keeping up with him. 
James spins sharply on his heel, angry glare locked with your confused, half-mad, half-hurt gaze. 
“Care to tell me what the hell all that was about, love?” he snarls. Darkness swirls around in his vicious eyes, deep and unrelenting like the crashing waves of the ocean, and equally as violent.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” you spit back. 
“What the hell does Peter Pan want to do with you?”
“First of all, he’s my partner in Potions,” you reply heatedly, trying your best to hold back the angry tears you can feel already forming in your eyes. “And he was asking if I could help him study. As an apology for messing up earlier today. What’s so wrong with that?”
James laughs darkly, muttering, “Damn it, that bastard,” under his breath. He rocks his head back and forth, pairing it with a wicked, twisted smile that sends cold chills down your spine.
“I don’t understand what’s so wrong with that!” you cry out, feeling hot tears already start to trickle down your face. 
“Don’t you see?” spits James, taking a step towards you and waving his hook wildly in some form of gesture. “He’s trying to steal you from me!”
At this, you recoil, blinking slowly. You can feel the emotions simmering in you, deep down. The calm before the storm. 
“Steal me? From you? Steal me?” you ask, the emotions and fury building inside you like a rising wave. You take a step back from him, your voice rising. 
“Look, Pan and I may not be mates, but I know him well,” James snaps, clearly pissed. “And I can tell you right now that he doesn’t have any good intentions towards you.”
“Steal me? Like I’m some sort of treasure to be claimed? Like I’m an object?” you cry out, exasperated and relentless.
Something flashes across James’s eyes for a split second, some emotion or thought that is rather undecipherable. His features soften slightly, reminiscent of how he was when you sang for him under the moonlight not so long ago. As if his rational mind is finally catching up to his emotional words, his face falls, furrowed brows loosen a bit, and the cold anger in his eyes gives way to a more tender side of him. Maybe if you looked hard enough, you could also see a hint of regret laced in there. 
“No, I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he calls out after you. But it’s too late; you’re already running down the empty hall, away from James. Away from all your problems. 
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You’re half-asleep when you show up to Potions and Elixirs 101 the next morning. After your fight yesterday with James, you simply couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. It’s the first time you two fought like this, and you honestly don’t know what to do or how to feel. Sure, you’re still angry at him for the way he acted, but at the same time, you miss his comforting embrace, his soft laughs, the touch of his skin against yours. 
You sit down at your assigned table, trying your best to ignore the ginger next to you. Today, you’re taking notes on a lecture the teacher is giving, so you thankfully won’t have to do much talking to Pan. 
You make sure to listen as intently as possible to the professor, wanting to fill your mind with something other than thoughts of your argument earlier. You pay attention to taking notes so closely that you nearly forget all about your problems. That is, until you’re reminded again at the end of class, as you’re putting your things away alongside everyone else. 
“Hey, Y/N?” Pan asks from beside you. 
“Yeah?” you reply, feigning nonchalance. You make sure to keep your head down as you stuff your notebook into your bag. Oh, please let this be about the homework we were just assigned and nothing else. 
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”
Well, damn it. 
You think about giving a quick response to end the conversation, but in all honesty, you don’t really know if he expects you to accept his apology, or give one of your own. You aren't quite sure who is in the wrong here, but you are sure of one thing: saying the wrong thing will not do you any favors in solving your problems.
“What about yesterday?” You try to keep your tone light, as if it’s all water under the bridge, but you can’t help the apprehensiveness that leaks into your voice. 
“Well, I wanted to apologize if I was interrupting something between you two back there,” Pan starts.
You give him a small, apologetic smile, “No, don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything,”
“In that case…” Pan runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a quick exhale, before locking eyes with you and asking, “Why are you still with him?”
His blunt question startles you, sending your mind reeling for a response. “I-I don’t know…I just am,” you say, wishing this conversation would be over already. You had never been a big fan of difficult questions that made you doubt everything you knew, or thought you knew, about yourself. 
“He treats you terribly. I’ve seen the way he acts. He’s a terrible lover, Y/N.”
You turn to face Pan directly, a defensive glint in your eye at his accusatory tone. “No, he’s not!” You turn away again as you mumble a small, “And he’s not my lover.”
At this, Pan quirks an eyebrow and gives you a look with a very obvious meaning behind it. “Oh please, have you never seen how he is around you? Of course he’s your lover.” Without missing a beat, Pan tacks on, “And a shitty one at that.”
You huff angrily, but you can’t think of anything to shoot back at him besides blatant denials. Pan must have taken this as an offer to continue, because he steps forward and places a gentle hand on your upper arm. 
“I’m saying this because I care about you, Y/N. You deserve someone a lot better than the likes of James Hook. Someone who will treat you right, take you out on dates whenever you want, and proudly walk around in public with your hand in theirs. Not someone who only meets up with you after school so nobody sees and acts like you don’t exist half the time.”
Your anger only grows at his words, knowing that his accusations aren’t true and that James does care about you…right? Because underneath the part of you that is always ready to defend James entirely and completely, is a part of you that doubts it, doubts him. It’s always been there, lingering in the back of your mind ever since your unusual relationship started to blossom. And now, with a new layer of hurt and confusion having been peeled back during your fight last night, that part of you wondered, deep down, if Pan was right. 
“You need a better lover, Y/N,” Pan continues. “Someone who truly cares about you. Someone…someone like me.”
Your eyes blow wide at his revelation as your mouth parts slightly in shock. You take a step backwards, shrugging off Pan’s hand as you stumble away from him. 
“Wait, please, just hear me out,” he pleads. “Just give me one chance. One chance to prove myself to you. You gave Hook a chance when you started trusting him, didn’t you? And he’s a villain. So why can’t you give me a chance? You won’t regret it, I promise.” He moves closer to you and you keep inching away, until your back collides with a wall and you realize that you have nowhere to run. 
Pan continues forward, your fear skyrocketing at his increasing proximity. “Please?” he begs. “I could treat you right. So much better than Hook.”
He finally reaches you, standing far closer than you would have normally let him, or anyone else, for that matter, as he cups your cheek with his left hand. Truth be told, it feels nice to sense warm flesh on your skin instead of the cold, harsh metal of James’s hook. But you shake that thought away almost instantly, chastising yourself for, even for a moment, putting Pan above James. 
Pan places his free hand on the wall next to your head and leans in even closer. “Please?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. 
The feeling of his exhale, paired with his natural scent that you only smell now when he’s this close, takes you back to that day when you first met James. He had leaned in too, whispering in your ear. You had felt his breath on your skin, breathed in his scent.
You feel an odd sense of deja vu, but for some reason, this interaction causes your heart to race out of pure fear, rather than the exhilarating rush you felt when you were with James. The realization causes you to snap out of your trance and go into full-on panic mode. “N-no, I’m sorry, I…”
Pan growls, not backing away. “Come one! How come you gave a villain a chance and you won’t give me one? That’s not fair!”
Your breathing quickens in pace, the panic settling over you and dragging you deep under like a wave at sea. Your palms start sweating profusely, and you can hear your heart racing a thousand miles a minute. You’re pretty sure this is what people mean when they mention one’s fight or flight response. 
“No! Just, just leave me alone!” you cry, ducking under his arm and rushing away from him just as the bell rings. You run into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible. 
You finally make it to the dining hall, plopping down at a table far away from your usual spot. You don’t care if you have to eat alone; anything to get away from Pan. Your mind is already wandering to thoughts of how to convince your Potions and Elixirs teacher to let you switch seats when you notice a lot of commotion next to the entrance of the dining hall. 
People have started crowding around the doors and murmuring to each other. Curious, you get up from your seat, wandering over to see what’s causing the commotion. As you near, you hear distant shouting and the sound of metallic clinking. You move even closer still, and finally catch snippets of people’s conversations.
“...fighting…”
“over…girl…” “Wait, who’s winning?”
“...did you see that?” “Oh my god…he’s gonna kill him!”
You try to stand up straight to get a look at what's causing the commotion, but the large crowd that has amassed blocks everything from view. “What’s going on?” you ask, not really to anyone in particular.
“Didn’t you hear?” a short, round boy, with big glasses to match his wide eyes answers. You recognize him as Smee from some of your classes. “James Hook is fighting a duel against Peter Pan!”
James…fighting…what? You blink in absolute disbelief. There is no way this is happening right now.
You manage to push your way to the front of the crowd, albeit not without many disgruntled mumbles thrown your way, until you get a clear view of the corridor in front of the dining hall.
You stand there, petrified, as you watch. Hell, it is really happening. James and Pan each have their swords unsheathed and are violently swinging them at each other’s heads, parrying the other’s attacks with deafening clashes of steel.
“You bastard!” James yells, taking another swing at Pan.
Pan jumps back, floating a few feet in the air as he does so, with a laugh. “Oh please, all I wanted to do was treat her right. Unlike you.”
James grits his teeth, countering Pan’s blow with one of his own. “You tried to steal my girl!”
Pan rolls his eyes, continuing the back-and-forth between their swords. “Your girl? As she said herself, you’re not even her lover.” James ducks down to avoid Pan’s latest attack. “Ha, how amusing indeed.” A dark glint shines in his eye as he lets out a cold and malicious laugh, before charging forward once again. “Of course I’m her lover, you bilge-sucking scoundrel! She belongs to me!”
Your eyes grow impossibly wider at those words. It shouldn’t come as much of a shock to you as it does; after all, it’s not like you and James haven’t been acting like a couple for the past few months. But still, you had managed to convince yourself that it was nothing serious, since he had never once directly talked about what you were. And hearing him say it out loud…declaring to the whole school that you were his…it made your heart feel unspeakable things.
“Well, you sure as hell don’t act that way,” Pan bites back, nicking James’s cheek. James recoils for a second, raising his hook to his face and wiping at the gash. He looks down at it, and from your front-row seat you can see the blood smeared against the glistening metal. 
James looks back up at Pan, raises his cutlass, and resumes the fight with a new vigor. Every hit more violent than the last, every offensive move aiming at a critical point. “I’m gonna kill you!” James yells as he lands a blow on Pan’s right arm. 
This gash seems rather deep—far deeper than the one previously inflicted on James—the blood already leaking out and staining Pan’s sleeve. He winces and steps back, but continues the fight. 
You stand there, motionless, too afraid to do anything. Maybe a braver person than you would step in, tell them to stop fighting. But your feet remain planted to the floor, your jaw aching from being clenched so hard as you pray for no one to get seriously hurt.
Pan parries one of James’s attacks and does a quick spin, rapidly gaining momentum with his sword as he turns around and aims the blade…
…directly at James’s head.
A small whimper escapes your throat as the roar of metal hitting metal echoes through the hall. You gasp, heart in your hands, as your eyes take a moment to register the scene in front of you.
James has caught Pan’s blade in the curve of his hook, holding it just inches away from his head. Their arms tremble with strain, with Pan trying to break James’s defense and slash through his neck, and James fighting to prevent him from doing so. They lock eyes, an endless, unspoken conversation passing between them in that moment. Pan’s sword inches closer to James’s head, whose back is bent as he struggles to hang on. 
With a sudden swoosh, James yanks his hook in a downward motion, spinning Pan’s sword inside of its arch. A terrible screech sounds at the rubbing of metal against metal as the sword gets wriggled free from Pan's grasp. James jerks his hook backwards, and the sword launches out of his opponent's hands.
The entire audience lets out a collective gasp as Pan’s sword lands with a clang! against the rough marble floors, off to the side. Everyone is dead silent, holding their breaths with anticipation of what’s to come.
You watch as the realization of his defeat dawns upon Pan, the fear blossoming in his eyes as James extends his cutlass to Pan’s throat. He presses the sharp tip into his neck, lightly enough not to break skin, but still firmly so no one, not even Pan, doubts his opponent's defeat.
“Apologize,” James demands, voice booming across the corridor, tone rather befitting for the captain of a ship.
“I-I’m sorry!” Pan pleas, just now aware of what a dangerous predicament he had gotten himself into.
“Not to me, you moron. To her.” James jerks his head backwards to where you’re standing, in the front of the audience, eyes blown wide. 
Pan turns to face you, eyes locking with yours amidst the crowd. “I’m sorry! Truly, I am! Please, forgive me!” he cries.
James snarls, pulling his sword back, poised to strike a lethal blow. He thrusts his hand forward, straight towards Pan’s chest…
…but doesn’t ever reach it.
Everyone watches, confused—James more so than anyone else—as his hand remains suspended in midair. A soft blue force field shimmers around his arm, just as loud footsteps and an old, yet assertive, voice fills the hall.
“Fighting on school grounds is strictly against school policy, you know.” The headmaster, Merlin, walks in from the opposite side of the hall. His steps echo loudly against the high ceilings, filling the otherwise dead-silent area. “Boys, you come with me. The rest of you, get to your classes.”
The crowd slowly disperses as Merlin whisks James and Pan away. You still stand there, feet glued to the floor, watching their backs until they disappear from sight.
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You didn’t see neither James nor Pan in your classes for the rest of the day, and you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing them for a while. The headmaster was generally a kind soul, but he was strict when it came to breaking rules. You didn’t know what punishment he had come up with for them, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
Which is why you’re rather surprised when you open your locker at the end of the day to find a note flutter out and land at your feet. Curious, you pick it up and read it. “Meet me at our spot after school. -J.”
A small grin makes its way across your face, although you try your best to help it. You don’t know why, but reading James’s little notes always brings you joy, even if you are in a tight spot with him. 
You make your way to the courtyard, where James is waiting for you by the water fountain once again.
“Y/N,” he says, voice back to being gentle and soft. You open your mouth to respond, but he puts his hook against your lips, quieting you. “I need to get this out first before you yell at me.”
“I wanted to see you to apologize for my actions. After hearing what Pan said…” His eyes wander down to the ground as a grimace spreads across his features. “I’ve come to the realization that he’s right, love.”
You raise your eyebrows at his statement, shocked at the confession. Cocking you head to the side, you wait for him to continue.
“I haven’t been treating you the way I should. And that is going to change, starting today. I also have to ask for your forgiveness for my actions earlier…it was wrong for me to get upset at you for speaking to Pan. But seeing you act so kindly to my enemy…it really struck something inside of me.”
“James,” you breathe, lifting his hook up to your cheek and placing your hand on top of it. “It’s fine, I forgive you.”
“Even for dueling Pan?”
You let out a small giggle. “Yes, that too. Although, I must admit, I did find you fighting for me to be kind of attractive.”
“Oh?” James asks with an intrigued smile dancing on his lips. He uses his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. “Then I suppose I’ll have to start more fights then.”
You giggle again, happy to finally be in your lover’s arms. Truth be told, you had mentally forgiven him long ago. Ever since the night of your argument, you had just wished it would all end, that you two would go back to the way things were.
“Why...why did you start that fight with Pan?” you ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.
James slowly lets out a breath before responding. “I heard of how he harassed you in your class earlier. The thought of him putting his hands on you…making you uncomfortable…it was just unbearable, love. I don't care what it cost me; he had to pay for what he did.”
You process this, giving a small nod. Although you don’t quite agree with his methods, you still find his protectiveness endearing.
“I have something to ask you, as well, darling,” James inquires. You meet his gaze, signaling for him to go on. “Did you really say that I wasn’t your lover?”
“I, well, uh…” your voice trails off. You were hoping that he hadn't quite caught that when Pan said it, but apparently he had. Glancing back up at James’s face, you wish you didn’t see the pain etched into his features, all but hidden by the mask he always puts up.
“Well…” you start. “You never said anything about us officially dating, and I didn’t want to presume…” You look down at your shoes, avoiding his burning stare.
James removes his hook from your cheek and slips it under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards towards him. “And here I thought that it was so obvious, I didn’t even need to mention it to you, my little mermaid.”
You give a small grin, finally at peace within your lover’s arms. “You can never be too sure,” you whisper, leaning in and intertwining your lips with his in a passionate kiss, the intensity building around the two of you.
James takes a few steps backwards as you lean into him, still locked in your embrace, his leg hitting the stone of the water fountain you two love to meet at. He maneuvers his way down and sits on the rim, pulling you on his lap. 
You wrap your arms around his torso, straddling his thighs. James puts his good hand on your waist, using his hook to pull you in by the collar of your shirt. You moan softly, the sound melodious as your rampant emotions spark the magical abilities inside you, one hand leaving his back and creeping inside his loose shirt.
You open your mouth as he slips his tongue inside, gently rocking on his legs. A groan escapes his lips as you rub your fingertips along the bare skin of his chest, moving lower to trace his rather well-defined abs. He moves his good hand down to your leg, gripping it tightly as he continues kissing you with a deep fervor. Everywhere he touches, he leaves a trail of fire on your skin. Your body ignites at even the slightest of brushes, a blaze consuming you inside and out.
Which is why when he raises his hook and brushes your cheek with the cold metal, the feeling is all-too welcomed. You nearly melt as your mind completely blanks, your senses overwhelmed. James doesn’t quite understand why his small gesture elicits such a reaction from you—you were now kissing him and moving with much more rigor than before—but he revels in the way you make him feel. You, on the other hand, get lost in the sharp contrast the coolness of his hook provides to your burning cheek, the inferno that swells around you ever-growing as you continue to have a passionate night with your lover.
The moon has its cycles, coming and going. When it disappears at the first rays of dawn, the tides yearn for its alluring and familiar presence yet again. And although it may seem like an eternity away, nightfall always comes, bringing with it the gentle serenity of being with the one you belong with.
You think back to the question you asked yourself not so long ago, If you could go back, would you change what happened, that fateful day you met James? In that moment, you decide, no, you wouldn’t. Because the life you have right now is the only one your heart will ever yearn for.
end x
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mygnolia · 4 months ago
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A HUNDRED HIDDEN KISSES | s. jaeyun
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୨୧ -› so, the story goes that you’re supposed to feud with Sim Jaeyun, with his perfectly handsome face, his foreign exchange student accent, or his flirty remarks. but the story has a plot twist; somewhere along the way, you fell for his winks and charm.
pair -› (BLONDE.) soccer player!jake x top student!fmr | trope -› one sided enemies to lovers | wc -› 1.7k | cw -› kissing but idk how to write two ppl kissing oops anyways downbad HORRENDOUSLY down bad jake here | library
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the weird thing about a crush is, it happens unexpectedly. 
maybe not so unexpected- because your heart has an attraction to the lamest soccer player on the team before your head even tolerated him. you hated sim jaeyun and you swore you did- but maybe you didn’t swear hard enough, because at some point, you could see your sense of rational floating above your head before it pops like a bubble and disappears into thin air. 
see- you’re supposed to hate sim jake. he’s obnoxious and loud and always says ‘no’ in the accent that makes it incredibly clear that it’s him (and only him) who’s said it. and not just that- he’s become best friends with sunghoon in an instant. park sunghoon, aka, your study buddy since beginning of high school. so yeah- maybe you hate that sunghoon has started hanging out with jake more and you swear you always catch the new exchange student looking in your direction whenever he’s with sunghoon. he definitely talks about you, but sunghoon is as quiet as a mouse when you two study for exams- which is infuriating, and so unlike him. but there’s another huge huge problem. 
jake is probably the prettiest boy you’ve met in your life. 
he came to the school with shorter hair, but sunghoon’s ability to change someone’s entire look is blessed by the gods- and sunghoon himself was kissed by eternal beauty, so of course, when they started hanging out, you noticed the change in clothes to be more baggy, his walk to be much more confident, his grin to be sly, and his hair to be so much cuter when styled. you were royally fucked from the day you saw jake wave in your direction when he entered class, with a confident smile that you weren’t sure he only showed to you. 
and that made you all the more irritated with him. “I am not going to teach him anything, hoon.” you state firmly. “he’s like- the most annoying younger brother you could ever ask for.” and there’s a worrying look that flashes in the boy’s eye, leaving you confused and pondering on the way home. “why don’t you teach him art history?” 
“we goof around too much.” and you roll your eyes at his lame excuse. 
and yet another problem arises. see, park sunghoon knew much more than you did when it came to jake. he knew that he played soccer in his backyard before heading to school, that his dog was a border collie, and that sim jake had a crush on you- aka- the most unavailable girl ever, who’s never dated anyone, thinks boys (especially boys who play sports) are stupid, and has a hatred for jake and only him. so sunghoon thinks his friend is utterly hopeless, and wants to tell him to give up, but when sunghoon hears how the boy raves about you and how pretty you looked in class today, he smacks jake on the arm and whines to him about shutting up and to stop being a loser. 
“do you think she’ll like it if i dyed my hair blonde?” 
sunghoon sighs, “you could dye your hair any color and she’d still want to cut it off.”
jake blinks. “but blondes are hot, right?”
and that’s how he shows up the next day, making you shrink in your seat from just how much better he looks and how much more annoying that makes him. 
jake has heard about the guys you’ve rejected for liking you because they’re shallow. and jake sees how you scowl at him- but he’s determined to make you his girlfriend, so once again, he tells you good morning with that accent of his and that grin on him, and you mumble a good morning back, wondering why the hell he’s always trying to talk to you. maybe he still wants you to tutor him for art history. maybe that’s why he intercepts you on the way out of the school gates with heavy breathing after running across campus.
“please- stay after practice.” he begs you, and you recognize a fresh ocean scent that compliments his bubbly personality with how he’s run up to you and leans down to make eye contact. and there’s only one thought in your head, one that manifests into stupid words that stupid and now blonde sim jaeyun hears. 
“you’re so pretty.” and you think if an alien ufo were to suck you up into space and carry you away from the pit of shame and embarrassment you’ve carved out for yourself, you would embrace extraterrestrial life without hesitation if it meant getting away from him. “fuck, sorry, i didn’t mean to say that.” 
and fuck, his laugh his so cute when you hear it, so much so that it momentarily distracts you from the blaring truth that his efforts to look good for you have paid off. “you think i’m pretty?” 
“pretty stupid.” and you try to say it with malice, but it comes out small and he knows you mean none of it. “i’ll be waiting with sunghoon on the bleachers.” 
yeah- it’s safe to say that jake has never scored that many times against his goalie in his entire life. but his excitement is infectious, and when sunghoon sneaks out of the sitting area to meet his friend during a break, the latter knows something is up. “she called me pretty, hoon. like, she actually meant it.”
“are you sure?” 
“and then she said i was pretty stupid, but liste-ow! what the hell?” he stops himself when he gets yet another smack from sunghoon- except this time, his friend’s eyes are shining. 
“no way. she meant it?” and jake nods in earnest. 
“that’s why she’s been waiting at the bleachers.” and sunghoon fake gags. 
“you’re disgustingly in love with her or something.” jake offers him a lopsided smile and bounces off in your direction, afraid you’ve left now that there’s no one on the field and the sun might start to set soon. but to his relief, you’re there, with your pretty hair and your pretty face and your pretty everything. 
“____!” he says running over with his bag. “sorry for keeping you waiting.” 
you close your notebook, where you’ve done half of your math homework between watching jake pass the ball and scoring. and you’re a little irritated at how long it takes for boys to run across the field to practice soccer, but you’re just more worried about getting home safely. “tell me what you need. it’s cold, and it’s getting dark, sim.” 
“you walk home?” and he doesn’t know why he hasn’t noticed something like that sooner. and you nod, packing your things slowly. “i’ll go with you.” 
“why?”
“because i don’t want a pretty girl like you to walk home alone.” he says, changing his shoes. 
“i’m not worried because it’s dark, i’m worried because it’s cold.” you argue, not ignoring how he calls you pretty. 
“then wear my hoodie.” 
“but my face will be cold.” 
“then kiss me.” he blurts. 
huh? kiss? jake? 
“kiss?” you reiterate, staring at him like he has three heads. 
jake’s eyes widen in panic. “well you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 
“it’s not like i don’t want to.”
“so if you want to, and your face is cold, why can’t we..”
“well i don’t know what it’s like to be kissed!” you admit awkwardly, suddenly finding the dirt on the bleachers much more interesting than the way jake is probably looking at you like you’re a loser. 
“it’s okay, i haven’t either.” and his confession makes you whip your head around, face to face with a boy who very much looks like he’s had a girlfriend- or a few. 
“but-“ and you’re definitely taken aback. “but you’re so..” 
all of the playfulness floods back into his grin as he unabashedly observes your every reaction. “so…what, ____?” and despite a frown overcoming your features, your heart thuds rapidly with the proximity between you two, and you can’t help but lose your train of thought when he’s so close. “pretty?” and it refers to your slip of tongue, making you scrunch your nose in embarrassment. 
“i don’t know.” your murmur. 
“you don’t? come on angel, you aren’t the smartest in our class for nothing.” and you hear the way his accent permeates every few words, and unfortunately, it’s just painfully unfair how attractive he looks when he chuckles and reaches up. “may i?” he says, and you nod, letting him scoot closer and grasp your chin. and you give him permission because you don’t have a reason to say no, and even if you did, all protest dies on your tongue when he leans in just a little bit more, and your eyes flutter shut, tilted slightly for your lips to slot perfectly against his. and your face burns with how much you enjoyed your kiss with jake, so much so that when you part, it’s not for long, since you place your hands on his shoulders and whisper to no one but him, “kiss me again.” 
and you kiss sim jaeyun on the bleachers for the second time, your hands pulling him close as you both enjoy the spark of the moment. and jake can’t get enough of you- it's evident with now the time you spend apart from each other far less in comparison to the time he spends with his eyes closed and with your lips against his. 
you pull apart with a giggle and a boulder of bashfulness on your shoulders, unsure of how you even got here with your lip balm smeared across his lips. and you’re one of the smartest students there, but your train of thought probably crashed somewhere the moment you could smell the fresh scent of his cologne. 
yeah- maybe you were doomed from the start. 
“let’s get you home, yeah?” 
and even though your face is still cold, you wear his hoodie and hold his hand to make sure you’re not cold anywhere else. “what did you want me to stay behind for?”
“right- art history!”
“i said it a whole bunch of times! i’m not going to tutor you, jake!”
he pouts. "still?"
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reblogs + interactions r appreciated!
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jjoongstar · 4 months ago
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❝LOLA'S LIBRARY❞✰.。.✵°✵,¸.•✵´
my personal list of all of my fav fics that i really love and would like to reread again for fun. i'll always continue to add more on this list. NONE OF THESE WOKRS ARE MINE!!!
smut🔥| fluff ☁️| angst 💧| most fav & highly rec❤️‍🔥
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★¸.•☆•.¸★ ATEEZ ★⡀.•☆•.★
love you goodbye 🔥💧[psh] breakup sex, i legit cried
intertwined☁️[psh] mermaid y/n, siren seonghwa
sleep talker🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] enemies to lovers, one bed trope, vacation au, love the tension & plot
royal library🔥☁️[psh] royalty au, plot twist, legit ult fav, mak lurve giler
(not so) sweet dream☁️[psh] very fluffy, snuggling hihihshs
Red Dress🔥☁️[psh] enemies to lovers, amazing plot
You Come First🔥☁️[psh] drug dealer, dom!hwa went too far, y/n used safe word
Make Me Water🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] friends to lovers, lots of giggling
prefect and t(h)reats🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] harry potter au, slytherin hwa x hufflepuff y/n
I Know It's Over☁️💧❤️‍🔥[psh] historical au, tragic ending, cliche storyline but i cried anyways
The General's Wife☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] possessive military general husband hwa
The Way To His Heart (series)☁️💧❤️‍🔥[psh] joseon era, general sh, arranged marriage, amazing plot, scrumptious storyline, sngt lurve gilerr frr
She's a regular here... (pt.1)🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] drug dealer, legit fav, trilogy
Use me like a drug! (pt.2)🔥☁️[psh]
Baby we're high on you. (pt.3)🔥☁️[psh, khj]
opposite attracts🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh,khj] addams!matz, love the plot
One Day At A Time☁️💧[psh, jyh] royal au, most heartbreaking fic ever, i legit cried ffs, there's comfort at the end
mafia☁️[khj, jwy] mafia au, love the part where she slept on hj's bed
pretty🔥[khj] pure steamy smut, no plot
training wheels🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[khj] prof hj x student y/n, taught her how to suck his cock, ft. woo
Ugh, As If🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[khj] ult fav, y/n has insomnia & he helped her , sngt lurve yurr
Loyalties☁️[khj] criminal hj x detective y/n, love the chemistry, had me giggling, kinda reminds me of sanzu
Dreamy (series)🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[khj] dilf hj, bestie sh's daughter, legit ult fav ever, literally drooling, i love this sm istg, the best one ever, they finally fuck at pt. 6
5:04 am☁️[smg] he help lulled her to sleep
just between friends🔥❤️‍🔥[smg, jyh] pure filthy smut, love all the consents
principia (pt.1)🔥☁️[jyh] prof yuyu x student y/n, got my heartbeat racing
opticks (pt.2)🔥☁️[jyh]
Teacher's Pet🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[jyh] college au, prof yuyu x student y/n, heavy angst (my heart ached sm, i legit cried), "it reopened wounds it never healed", (will reread when i feel like hurting myself again)
outlaw🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[jyh] cowboy yuyu x bartender y/n, amazing plot
cry for me🔥[jyh] pure smut, crying kink, aftercare
whichever way🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[jwy, cs] threesome, has plot, amazing chemistry, kinky
Hardcore🔥☁️💧❤️‍🔥[cjh] teacher jh x student y/n, heartbreaking frr, "you like me...but you love her-", the other women
oh shit, are we in love?🔥☁️[cjh] romcom, college au, bestie to lovers, virgin jh
Ateez Reactions: When You Use Safeword🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[ot8] tbh, idk how to desc this cuz i like seeing them immediately changed from rough & full in lust to soft & concerned
boyfriend!ateez discovering you write smut☁️[ot8] fake text, they're just so funny i giggles too much & accidently banged my head on the wall
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★¸.•☆•.¸★ SEVENTEEN ★⡀.•☆•.★
emails i can't send💧[ot13] istg its so devastatingly heartbreaking, highly rec to read during the bloody season
step by step☁️[jww] softie but they were talking bout sex tho
the wolf and the fox☁️[kmg] spy au, the tension btwn the two tho
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★¸.•☆•.¸★ P1HARMONY ★⡀.•☆•.★
cinnamon banana pancakes☁️[keeho] soft, fluffy, making breakfast
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★¸.•☆•.¸★ OTHERS ★⡀.•☆•.★
idk which category these should go, so i'll place them here:
the better man🔥☁️[san, mingyu] threesome, college au, they fight for y/n
seeing double🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[seonghwa, wonbin] college au, red flag fwb hwa, soft shy wonbin
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dividers are by @roseraris
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