#yes l love ink

[sallary]

Day 14: A kind heart in a diabolical body

Ink belongs to Comyet

[pastelaspirations]

Ta-dahhhh, a drawing that took me too long. It would have taken me less time had I quit second-guessing everything and taking 3 hour breaks after fixing one line. BUT YEE, I ACTUALLY LIKE IT VERY MUCH. For once. (Also, shoutout to my fren, @paintedkinzy-88 for teaching me how mirrors work. It is a long story. Although, probably only "long" because of my habit of telling things 5k words longer than they needed to be-)

Now, long headcanon rambling alert. This drawing is like... the ungodly compilation of so many of my headcanons. I absolutely didn't need to stuff it full of things I believe to be true so wholeheartedly, but I d i d.

First headcanon: Ink can feel. He has the capacity to experience emotions, he just needs a little help to do it. So, he has to take his vials to experience something that many people don't even need to think about. However, this leads to ✧˖°.angst.✧˖°. Ink has a whole lot of self-doubt and he second-guesses his "emotions" all the time because, technically, his emotions are artificially induced. Therefore, by extension, does that make the emotions themselves artificial? This leads well into my second headcanon.

Second headcanon: Ink's vials are basically an allegory for antidepressants. Suppose someone has been depressed for a very, very long time and then they get on antidepressants. They might become really disoriented. Because, really, which version of themself is the truest form of them? The happy, upbeat version of them is strange and foreign after being depressed for so long. Is the happy version truly them, or was it the other, depressed version of themself that they spent so many years living as? So, as ya can see, the 3rd day prompt for Inktobertale fit beautifully with my headcanons. <3

Third headcanon: Ink experiences a strong wave of whatever range of emotions pertaining to a particular vial after he takes it. For example, yellow, he'd experience a strong wave of joy, happiness, euphoria, etc., and for red, anger, fury, outrage, etc. The little sticky note in the corner of the mirror is a reminder that it's easier to take all the vials together than to spread them out. If he takes them all together, he can experience each strong wave in immediate succession. It's exhausting and he nearly has everything taken out of him at the end, but the ordeal is less... awful than if he spread it out for half an hour taking them one by one. That's why the cup is there hehe-

The little pictures on the mirror represent happier times! :D Since taking his vials, or his "medicine," is such an uncomfortable experience, having pictures on his mirror to remind him of happier times and that he has people that care about him really helps. He can pluck up the courage to actually take the vials after glancing over at beloved faces. ;_;

The holiday picture actually has a funny backstory behind it; the three of them were celebrating Gyftmas together at Blue's house, but it was during a time Dream was still fairly new to uh, "modern day traditions." I headcanon Dream acts really old and after being stuck in stone for so long, is like... tragically so far behind the times. He uses old timey lingo, has a very bad habit of comparing his centuries old age to your common AU resident, and comes off as, "How do you do, fellow kids-" more often than he would like. As such, he didn't understand why you would "dress up" for the holidays. He freaking showed up in his normal attire and was baffled why Blue and Ink were dressed differently. They made a lot of fun of him. Ink got a new sketchbook that he's holding in the picture. <3

The other picture... of course has a backstory. I'm s o r r y, okay. It is a problem, I can't quit sneaking Errorink into whatever I do. That little picture is of a time they were hanging out together cuddling in the antivoid. Error wrote the little note on the picture to remind Ink that his emotions are just as real and valid as the rest of them, and that if anyone were to tell him otherwise, he'd fight 'em. He told him to slap it on his mirror as a reminder when he goes to take his "medicine." ;_; <3 Will I find a way to sneak this into a fic/make a new fic with this scene? Probably, but I'm choosing not to worry about it rn-

FINALLY. LAST HEADCANON, I'M SORRY- Some of you may have noticed the sneaky little Asriel hiding in the picture. >:) Even that has lore behind it! :D It comes from an AU I call Storetale that I made up in two minutes solely to excuse the blatant goat bro easter egg.

Storetale is set in a timeline where the monsters and humans live on the surface together in harmony. But oh noooo, one day, Asgore and Toriel died in a bad car crash, and they left poor Chara and Asriel alone. ;_; Not to worry though! Mettaton adopted the two and they both became child celebrities. But not on tv, mind you. Nooo, they became the mascots of Mettaton's extremely successful supermarket chain, MettaStore. The AU follows the two as they deal with their very odd claim to fame, as well as the fact of being children and the face of a multi-million gold supermarket franchise.

I like to headcanon that Ink likes to watch this AU because of how wacko and heartfelt it can be at times. He got the soap in the picture from that AU, branded Golden Flower Soap. I also like to think Ink introduced Error to that AU and he unironically got invested into it too because of the contrived problems it comes up with similar to Undernovela.

AND THERE. THAT IS ALL. This was just the ultimate compilation of all my headcanons into a singular drawing that no one would ever know unless I made this ungodly long post to explain each and every one in detail even though no one asked. ;_; I'm sorry for such the long post. If any of you brave souls read this far, thank you and I hope I managed to spread my headcanons further-

✧˖°.Bonus:✧˖°. Here is a version with alternate eyes 'cus I couldn't choose which one I liked more and then one without a blurred background. Now, you can see the Errorink background details more clearly if you would like :D

[hershelwidget]

wait hang on

HANG ON

DO YOU SEE MY VISION

[astrolotte]

Yoko from Ink Theory my beloved???

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

╰┈➤ a/n: 2022 me would skin me alive if she ever found out im being vocal abt liking eddie munson

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@lokis-army-77

⭒ Cozy

Waking up the day after Eddie has fucked your brains out you have a little more fun.

⭒ Private Viewing

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple

⭒ Next Caller

Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

⭒ You Look Lonely

Eddie finally had it all, success, money, and fame. There was still one tiny problem he had.

@ceriseheaven

⭒ Cockwarming with older!Eddie (blurb)

@natti-ice

⭒ “Let me taste you” (blurb)

⭒ "B-baby please, I'm gonna-" (blurb)

@msgexymunson

⭒ Shotgun

You're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 

⭒ Benefits

Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?

⭒ Soft Touches

you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

⭒ The Ink Shop

Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson.  

@eddiethefreakkmunson

⭒ Not So Accidental Invitations

Tired of ignoring your ever growing attraction to your roommate Eddie you "accidentally" send him a partial nude, his reaction is everything you had hoped it would be and more...

@bimbobaggins69

⭒ Love in the Locker Room

you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.

@luveline

⭒ Topaz, Lime, Ruby Red

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect.

⭒ Is It Getting Too Much?

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can).

⭒ If It Barks

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating.

part one | part two | part three | part four |

⭒ Was That So Hard?

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want?

⭒ Dark Matter

You ask your best friend Eddie to give you your first kiss. Eddie's not really in the habit of saying no to you.

⭒ Something Extra

You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you.

@usedtobecooler

⭒ Desperate!Eddie (blurb)

⭒ eddie "monstercock" munson

eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.

@munson-blurbs

⭒ Dark and Stormy

A missing key and a terrible storm leaves you and Eddie stranded in the back of his van. What ever shall you do to pass the time?

@eiightysixbaby

⭒ Take A Dip?

eddie wants to get you in the water with him while you're alone at the community pool. he ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

@galaxy-siren

⭒ Biggest Fan

@lonelysatellites

⭒ Safe Hands

Sex has never been a pleasant experience for you. Selfish partners, anxiety, and pain have all ruined something that you should enjoy. You’re convinced there’s something wrong with you, but Eddie is determined to prove otherwise.

@eddiernunson

⭒ I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

⭒ The Splash of Rain on the Roof

you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.

@bbyhellfire

⭒ missionary with eddie (drabble)

eddie didn't care for missionary until he meets you

@oneforthemunny

⭒ Soft!Eddie (blurb)

@kiwi-bitchez

⭒ The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around.

@/gaybybirth on ao3

⭒ Double Feature

When you're forced to go to a double feature showing of the Halloween movies with your brother and his friends, you find yourself, like usual, interacting with Eddie Munson. But it doesn't take long for the platonic line to be blurred and things to heat up.

⭒ Show Me

You ask Eddie to show you what you've been missing out on after he discovers your boyfriend never went down on you.

@eds6ngel

⭒ Romantic!Eddie blurb

@gxtitobxby

⭒ The Princess and the Freak | Part 2

“I can’t help but dream of his head between my thighs, how his hair would feel against my—”

@/mediocredreams on ao3

⭒ Extra Credit

Your professor offers you a very personal in-home tutoring session.

@/ghostproofbaby on ao3

⭒ Twenty Four Hours

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

(Y'ALL MUST READ IT ISTG ITS SO GOOD)

@/decembersfinest on ao3

⭒ Living After Midnight

Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head.

@littlexdeaths

⭒ Band Practice

when band practice doesn’t go as planned…

@eddiexmunsonlover

⭒ One Step Away From You

You move back to Hawkins after 3 years away to finish out your senior year. Can you salvage the friendship you once had with your ex best friend, Eddie? Will you be able to push down your deeper feelings for him, or will it all come bubbling out in disaster?

@/nerdsarehot on ao3

⭒ A Kiss to Remember

⭒ Flustered

@/GreyPetticoats on ao3

⭒ Wing Man

Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

@eddiesghxst

⭒ Riding Eddie drabble

@eddiemunchem

⭒ that puppy dog typa love

eddie is fiercely loyal, doting, and affectionate — when he’s enamored, you’re everything; his whole world. so just don’t mind the fact that he clings to you like a sloth to a tree, yeah?

[longlivejemily]

After Office Hours

Pairing: Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Reader goes to her favorite professor hoping to find ways to improve her grade. He has some unconventional extra credit opportunities in mind...

WC: 1.3k

Warning: Student/teacher relationship, slight sub/dom dynamics, semi public sex, thigh riding, use of y/n, use of “baby’ and “little girl” plz let me know if i’m missing any!

You’re running down the hallway of the law building at your university silently begging that your professor is still there. As you approach the door, he’s exiting, keys in hand. “Wait, Professor Reid! I’m here! Don’t go!” You call out to him closing the last yards of space between you. “Miss y/l/n you’re late, office hours are over.” “No Dr. Reid you don’t understand! My statistics professor wouldn’t let us leave until we finished the lesson on probability distributions! I told him I had office hours to get to and he didn’t care. Please Dr. Reid I really need to talk to you about my grade!” He puts his hands in his pockets and sighs while gears are turning in his head. “Fine, for you I’ll make an exception.” “Thank you thank you.” You try not to read too much into his comment as he opens the door, “after you.” You don’t notice that he locks the door after following you in. 

As he sits across from you at the desk, you pull out your physical midterm paper all marked up in red ink. “I thought I grasped this concept so well! I don’t understand how I got a C-.” “Y/N, you got a stressor and trigger backward. You failed to accurately explain the concept. The points you did get were from the passion in your writing. I appreciated the way you wrote, but I couldn’t give you a higher grade. I’m sorry.” 

“Professor, I have a 3.5 GPA and I can’t have that drop, especially not from my favorite class!” He clasps his hands under his chin with his elbows below him. “Miss y/l/n, it seems you have been struggling in this class for a while now. I see how hard you work but you have narrowly maintained a B-. If this is your favorite class, why didn’t you come to office hours sooner?” “I-” Your mind is moving too fast to form an answer. You look down at the ground and can’t help but press your thighs together. You’ve only had a few moments in such close proximity to Professor Reid before, and definitely not alone. His eyes seem to darken, “Do I make you nervous?” You just press your legs further together “Umm..” “Come here.” He says in a soft yet demanding tone while scooting his chair back. When you walk over to him he gestures towards his lap. “Sit.” You comply. You put your right hand on his shoulder as his left-hand reaches around you and grips your side. He can probably hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“You know how I knew you wanted this? When I guest lectured in your physics class you were wearing sweatpants. Out of anything you could have worn, sweatpants. You tried to hide it, but I saw your eyes widen when you saw me. You never dared to be caught dead in front of me clad from one of your tiny little skirts you love wearing to my class.” He takes the hand not at your side and squeezes above your knee. “Do you wear those skirts just for me? Tell me the truth.” You turn to him but avoid eye contact. In the quietest voice you say “Yes, just for you professor.” Knowing you were coming straight to his office hours after stats, you wore one of your shortest skirts and knee-high black boots. You hoped being alone in office hours on a dark fall night he wouldn’t be able to resist you. It was worth a shot, anyway. He smirks and before he has a chance to reply you say, “Now back to my grade, is there anything I can do to improve the grade I got on my midterm? Can I resubmit it with your notes taken into account?” “I’m sorry miss y/l/n but there's nothing I can do. The university policy states that once midterm grades are locked, any work done before can not be revised. My apologies.” 

“Is there anything I can do? Any extra credit opportunities this term?  I can help you grade papers or clean your classroom! Please I’ll do anything! I need to improve my grade, please!” He just stares at you while you beg. “Anything?” He says with a devilish smirk. “Yes sir.” You say back to him, smiling and batting your eyelashes. He takes a deep breath with his eyes closed and once he opens them he locks eyes with you and says, “Ride my thigh.” “Excuse me, Doctor?” His dick jumps at the honorific. “You said you’d do anything to improve your grade. I know you heard me, ride my thigh.” You cannot believe Dr. Reid just asked you for this. Since the first day of class, he has been the sole object of your fantasies. You’ve fallen asleep many nights imagining him bending you over his desk and fucking you until you scream.

 Without a second thought, you stand up to resituate yourself on his lap, straddling his left thigh. The moment you stand up he reaches for your wrist, “What are you doing?” You smile on the inside, those four simple words have shown you he wants this as badly as you do. “Don’t worry professor, I’m just turning around, I need something to grab onto.” You say as you sink down onto him. You put both hands on either side of his shoulders and begin to rock back and forth finding your rhythm. The roughness of his khakis against your ass and your thong pushed against your clit has you stifling your moans quickly. He grabs your chin to make you look at him, “I want to hear you, baby.” You let the moans leave your lips, still mindful of volume. He puts one hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip, gently guiding you. When he touches you, you are on cloud nine. Here you are, in your professor's office after hours riding his thigh as he speaks sweet praises to you. You swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. “That’s it baby keep going.” You are eyeing the member in his pants start to grow. Every time he speaks you get closer and closer to the edge. He can tell by the way you’re speeding up. “Come for me little girl, I want to hear how good you’re feeling.” The use of little girl sends you over the edge. 

Tightly gripping his shoulders as you ride out the rest of your orgasm, leaving dents in his shoulders through his dress shirt. Once you’re done cumming, you collapse onto his chest breathing heavily. Staring down at his lap you see his dick straining against his pants, and he’s huge. He gently rubs your back as you come down from your high. He kisses your head and lifts you by your shoulders facing him. You’re staring deep into his eyes. “You did so good for me, but it's getting late, you should get home.” “Right right, sorry. I’ll head out now.” As you stand up and adjust your skirt you notice the wet spot you left on his pants.

 He sees you staring and interrupts your thoughts, “Don’t worry about it. Can I plan to see you next week at office hours?” “Yes!” You say a little too enthusiastically. “Um I mean yeah, I’ll be here.” You say in a chiller tone. “Good, I have more extra credit opportunities in mind, I hope to see you in class on Monday. Next week, come to office hours once they're done, okay? Don’t show up before 7.” “Yes Dr. Reid, I look forward to improving my grade however you see fit.” You say with a wink heading towards the door. When you go to turn the knob it's locked. You unlock it and glance back at him. He’s still staring at you with a hungry look in his eyes. You have the biggest smile on your face walking back towards your dorm, next week's office hours can’t come soon enough.

a/n: this is the first fic I’ve written in about 10 years! Should I turn this into a mini series? I have more ideas for how this story could go! Any feedback is greatly appreciated <3

[starkwlkr]

the perfect dad | lewis hamilton

warnings: child loss, depression, online hate (if these topics are sensitive to you, please don’t read, your health is much more important!!)

The day Y/n and Lewis met, it felt magical, those were her exact words. It was 2008, a year after his F1 debut. Y/n, at the time, didn’t know anything about the sport other than the cars go really fast and there’s a world champion every year. She worked as a presenter alongside Natalie Pinkham. It took one interview for Lewis Hamilton to fall in love with Y/n L/n. After their interview, Lewis asked her out and from then on, they were named the paddock’s it couple.

Their relationship was made public after Lewis won his first championship and kissed Y/n on live tv. It became a regular occurrence for them. After every race win, Lewis would be interviewed by his girlfriend and interrupt her for a kiss.

The year was 2011 and after three years of dating, Lewis had proposed to Y/n and of course she said yes. The wedding was small with only close family and friends attending. Their perfect family was slowly forming and that’s all they could ever hope for.

Five months after the wedding, Y/n and Lewis found out the incredible news. They were going to be parents to a little boy or girl. Lewis immediately started buying baby related items and asked his father and brother for help on the nursery even if Y/n had no visible bump yet.

“We’re going to be parents!” Lewis kissed Y/n’s lips as he held the pregnancy test in his hands.

“The baby is going to be so loved.” Y/n smiled.

Everything was going perfectly fine. Y/n and Lewis went to all the checkups, Y/n read any books in order to prepare while Lewis dealt with baby proofing their entire house. They were more than ready for Baby Hamilton.

When the day finally came, Y/n was scared. She held onto Lewis’ hand tightly as the doctors and nurses motivated her to push. Her body ached and sweat began to form on her face.

“You can do this, love, you’re the strongest woman I know. Think about our little baby. They’ll be here soon.” Lewis whispered in her ear then gave her a kiss.

“Lew, I’m tired.” Y/n replied, breathing heavily.

“I know and I’m so sorry I can’t take your pain away. You can do this, Y/n, just a few more pushes.” Lewis said.

It felt like forever, but Baby Hamilton had finally arrived, the only problem was that neither Y/n or Lewis heard any baby cries. Y/n looked over at Lewis, who was just as confused as his wife.

“Where’s our baby, Lewis? I can’t hear them.” Y/n started to sit up, but the nurses told her calm down and sit back down. “No, I want my baby. Where are you taking them?”

Lewis instantly knew what had happened. Baby Hamilton didn’t even take their first breath. Lewis took his wife into his arms and let her cry as the doctors took their baby away.

“Our baby. . .” Y/n sobbed as Lewis held her. His heart had broken into millions of pieces. Why did it have to happen to him and Y/n?

For six months, Y/n stayed in her and Lewis’ room. She became a stranger. She skipped out races making the media believe that her and Lewis had divorced. Everytime a friend or family member reached out to her, she would push them away. Lewis tried his hardest to talk to her, but she would either kick him out of their room or leave the house then return an hour later.

It was supposed to be Baby Hamilton’s seventh month when Lewis finally got Y/n out of the house. Y/n had apologized to her husband for pushing him away when they were both grieving the loss of their baby.

“Baby Hamilton is with us always.” Lewis showed Y/n a tattoo that he had recently gotten last weekend. It was Baby Hamilton’s birth date along with a tiny heart. The tattoo was on his wrist so whenever he missed his child, which was often, he looked down at the ink and remember them.

“I love you, Lewis.”

After their talk, Y/n and Lewis got changed and dressed to go out to a restaurant to eat. It wasn’t one of those fancy ones that Lewis took Y/n whenever it was an birthday or anniversary or just because he felt like it. It was a small restaurant that sold vegan food that both Lewis and Y/n loved so much.

“Taste this,” Y/n held up her sandwich for Lewis to taste. He took one bite and stole the sandwich from Y/n’s hands. “Hey! You ordered the wrap!”

“But this one tastes good too! I’ll order you another one, love.” Lewis got up and walked to the counter to order another sandwich. While he was gone, Y/n could hear camera clicks and saw flashing lights from the corner of her eye. Paparazzi had found them. Of course every celebrity hated paparazzi, but Y/n absolutely despised them.

She felt uncomfortable as her body had obviously changed from the pregnancy and from her not taking good care of it after. She tried to ignore it, but soon some paparazzi had yelled out her name. It was impossible to ignore now.

“Y/n! You look different! Tell Lewis to order you more food, you look skinny!”

That was all it took for her to start crying.

When Lewis returned, he saw the paparazzi outside. “Let’s go home, come on.” He said and took off his hoodie. He gave the hoodie to Y/n and as she put it on, he asked a waiter for boxes to take their food home. “Ignore them, we’ll be home soon.”

As they left the restaurant, the paparazzi got more pictures of Y/n hiding her face from the camera. It was clear that she had lost tons of weight after the pregnancy. As Lewis opened the car door for her, a man called out for Y/n once again.

“Mate, fuck off.” Lewis said and walked to his side of the car. On their way home, Y/n ranted to Lewis about how the paparazzi makes her feel and him being the best husband, he listened to every word she had to say.

When they arrived home, Y/n walked into the house, Lewis slowly followed her. He was picturing them coming home from lunch of dinner with Baby Hamilton in a stroller. That was his version of a great day.

“It’s too quiet here, Lew. I don’t like it.” Y/n sighed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Lewis grabbed her hand and together they walked to their shared bedroom. Baby Hamilton’s nursery was right across from their bedroom. It remained untouched ever since Lewis and his father finished painting the walls and installing the furniture.

“We are going to get through this, Lewis Hamilton. I know we are.” Y/n faced her husband.

A new year came and so did new changes. Y/n still remained with returned back to work with Sky Sports F1 and Lewis was still with Mercerdes. After every race, Lewis would look down at his wrist and see the date that belonged to Baby Hamilton.

“Well Lewis, it’s been a hectic week for you, where to start, but firstly I want to ask about something the fans noticed you’ve been doing at every race and that is you kiss your wrist before getting into your car. Is there any meaning behind that?” A lady from ESPN asked him during the Monza Grand Prix.

“There is a meaning and it’s something only my wife and I know about. It’s something to represent that my child, who is now looking down at me, is always with me. It’s to represent that no matter what, I’m always going to be their dad.” Lewis proudly stated.

Y/n watched from a tv inside the Mercedes hospitality as her husband was being interviewed. The couple had talked about announcing Baby Hamilton before since during the pregnancy, no one other than close friends and family knew. Lewis wanted to make sure Y/n was okay with announcing it before anything else.

After Lewis was done with his interview, the tv changed to another interview happening live. Y/n knew it would be a while before Lewis returned so she went onto twitter to distract her mind, which was the wrong move.

Her name was trending after the paparazzi photos of her and Lewis were finally posted. Mean twitter users were pointing out how skinny and tired she looked.

formula1facts this is hamilton’s wife?😂

paddockinsider someone give her a burger

lolurnotmichaelschumacher Lewis finds her attractive?? get this man glasses or something

Her mentions were all about her body. Every single one of them were how she had changed. Without thinking, she went to her settings and pressed the ‘delete account’ option.

Y/n and Lewis continued with their lives, occasionally having breakdowns when they remembered how their child was taken from them too soon. But that didn’t mean Y/n and Lewis stopped calling themselves parents. They were still a mom and a dad, their child was just waiting for them in the sky.

One day, Lewis had the bright idea to bring up a solution to the quietness in their house. A dog. The couple was laying in bed in a hotel since the Singapore Grand Prix was just a few days away.

“A dog? Are you sure we’re ready to have a dog? We travel like crazy and who would take care of them when you and I can’t?” Y/n asked.

“Dad could or we could just bring them on the road with us. Everyone loves dogs.” Lewis said.

“Something tells me you already have one in mind. Did you adopt a dog and didn’t tell me?” Y/n chuckled.

“Not really. But I can ask around.”

Lewis did just that. Eventually he did find the perfect dog for him and his wife. After the 2013 season ended, Lewis took a well needed vacation with Y/n where he would surprise her with their dog. When Y/n met the dog, she was in love.

“What their name?” Y/n asked as she scratched the dog’s belly.

“Roscoe.”

Roscoe became a family member. He wasn’t ‘just a dog’. He traveled with Lewis and Y/n, ate with them, slept on their bed. He was their second child. A few months after adopting Roscoe, Coco came into their lives. Both Y/n and Lewis treated the dogs as if they were their own kids because in a way, they were.

Often Lewis would show Roscoe and Coco the ultrasound pictures of Baby Hamilton and would tell them how excited he was to be a dad. Y/n would smile so much as how Lewis talked to their dogs. It didn’t matter if they were a dog or an actual baby, Lewis Hamilton was the perfect dad.

[ashtheketchum]

NSFW alphabet Patrick Hockstetter

A/N: I've done this alphabet with a few other characters before, but I've never published anything. Then why don't you start with the biggest psycho? XD

Warning: NSFW content, female Reader, book and movie Patrick in one, mention of killing animals

_____________________________

A(ftercare = What is he like after sex?)

Patrick isn't actually that interested in you after sex. Maybe he asks briefly if you're still okay and then he doesn't care about you anymore. Sometimes he is so nice and carries you to the bathroom, but you have to wash yourself. Deep down, Patrick would like to help you, but the risk of getting a boner again is too high.

B(ody = his favorite body part)

Patrick loves your ass. He can't resist massaging it, pinching it or hitting it. All he has to do is stare at your ass and he'll get a boner and have to stop himself from fucking you to the wall.

C(um = Where does he cum?)

Patrick doesn't care where he cums. Whether in you, on your stomach, on your face, on your back, he doesn't care, you should just tell him. He's not into condoms at all, so unfortunately you have to be prepared to buy the pill. Otherwise, Patrick will never cum inside you (except in your mouth-) because he doesn't want you to get pregnant.

D(irty secret = One thing he does that you don't know about)

In class he sometimes jerks off on you. Especially in the summer when you're wearing short clothes, he can't keep himself together. In fact, no one has noticed it yet and it should stay that way. Since you sit in front of him and always help the teachers, he also has a complete field of vision of your body.

E(xperience = How much does he know about sex?)

Let's put it this way… you're not his first. Maybe the first one he treats a little gently, but when it comes to sex you are (with luck), the third one he's had. He had raped many women back then and therefore has a lot of experience about how he should and shouldn't move best. Sometimes he had to hold himself together not to destroy you completely, but he kept himself well within his limits.

F(av. position = What position does he like to fuck you in?)

Patrick goes through all the positions with you. Missionary, doggy style, riding and more. But most of the time he prefers the missionary position. This way he can see your whole body and do whatever he wants with it. Of course he prefers it if you ride him, but he prefers it if he takes the lead. But he likes to try things out, so be creative.

G(oofy = Does he have a sense of humor during sex?)

This point is critical. It depends on his mood, when he is in a good mood he sometimes teases you. "My little slut… takes my cock so well…" he says, for example. But when he's in a bad mood, he usually never says anything. He sometimes growls, growls or whines, but nothing more.

H(ickeys? = How does he feel about hickeys?)

No. Patrick likes to give you some, but he doesn't want any himself. The world should know who you belong to and not the other way around. Because you belong to him, not he to you. So you have to live with the fact that you sometimes walk around with a bruised neck.

I(ntimacy = Is he romantic?)

HAHAHA no.

J(erk off = Does he masturbate often?)

Ohhh yes. He masturbates very, very often, precisely because he can't touch you all the time. He masturbates at school, he masturbates at home. The only time he doesn't masturbate is when he's sleeping or fucking you. But otherwise he always masturbates when he can or wants to.

K(ink = What turns him on?)

Basically everything you do. Do you bend down to pick something up? He sees your ass and gets hard. You stub your toe and moan in pain? He loves suffering and becomes hard. Are you talking about your day? He wants to use your mouth for something else and gets hard.

L(ocation = Where do you like to do it most?)

If it were up to him, you would fuck everywhere. At school, in town, behind a church and more. But it's too uncomfortable for you, so you only do it in private places. Once you did it in the school toilets because Patrick got a hard on that no one could miss.

M(otivation = What really gets him in the mood?)

Fire and knife games. He loves to hurt you, even if it's just a minor injury. Your loud whimpers turn him on, making him want more and more. Most often he cuts your collarbone, your hip or between your breasts. But he never cuts so deeply that it cannot heal. But sometimes a scar remains.

N(o = What would he never do?)

Start a real relationship with you. He only sees you as a sex toy and sometimes treats you sweetly so that you stay with him longer. Don't expect to be able to change him.

O(ral = Is he a giver or a taker?)

He prefers to receive. The feeling of your lips around his shaft drives him even crazier than he actually is. And your looks, he could never get enough. Especially your strangled moans as he fucks your throat. It's never the other way around, in fact Patrick had never even thought about licking or fingering you in any way.

P(eace = Is he slow or fast?)

Hard and fast. But the closer you get to your orgasm, the more he slows down to tease you. Most of the time he tortures himself, but seeing you suffer is worth the cost to him. As he gets angrier, he gets tougher, but then his knife and fire games hurt more.

Q(uickie = Does he like quickies? Something done or had quickly)

He was never a fan of it. It feels wrong for him to just fuck you quickly and then act like nothing happened. Especially because it takes several rounds.

R(isk = Would he do it in places where he would easily be caught?)

Yes. Patrick doesn't even see fucking you in public as a risk, he sees it as a given. If it gets too much for you, he usually ignores it. But since you mostly only do it in the forest or at home, it suits him.

S(tamina = How many rounds can he last?)

If he's in a good mood, three rounds are easily possible. Maybe more. However, when he's angry, all he really wants to do is hurt you and sometimes you don't even get to your first orgasm. But he does :'D

T(oys = Does he use toys on you?)

The only toys he uses are his lighter and a small knife. He doesn't want anything more, he doesn't need anything more. You never find toys that interesting, and neither of you want to buy them and hide them.

U(nfair = Does he sometimes tease you?)

Not sure if you could call that teasing. But, as mentioned before, it becomes slower and gentler as you get closer to your orgasm. But when you beg and whimper sweetly, he speeds up again and gives you your well-deserved orgasm. But only sometimes.

V(olume = Is he loud or quiet?)

Most of the time he just growls quietly in your ear. He wants to keep his voice quiet and deep so that he can hear you better. But when he cums, he lets out a small whimper, then he just breathes loudly and quickly. He is also quiet when talking dirty.

W(ich position = Top or Bottom?)

Patrick is definitely a top. He wouldn't even think about giving you dominance, even if you give him a blowjob or ride him. He always has control over you.

X(-x rey = How is his cock?)

Patrick is a little longer than average, but he is a little thicker at the base. Slight veins can be seen under his tip and he has a pink tip.

Y(earning = How high is his sex drive?)

Very Very Very Very Very Very Very Very high.

Z(zzz = Does he sleep after sex?)

Patrick never falls asleep after you have sex. Most of the time he watches you sleep or he goes to kill some animal. When he really needs to sleep, he sleeps very lightly.

[lalunanymph]

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟐: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍

after a scandal that rocks the entire nation, itadori 'ryomen' sukuna is forced to marry a girl chosen by his brother in order to straighten him out. but, what jin doesn't expect is how much he's willing to destroy everything he knows just to get his freedom back—even at the expense of breaking his wife's soul.

warnings: mean!sukuna, unrequited love, child neglect, childhood trauma, flashback-heavy, language, repressed trauma, allusions to d/rug a/buse, mentions of s/moking, mentions of food, mentions of a/lcohol, explicit s/mut (sukuna x este), cuckcake-ish vibes, tension, MDNI

masterlist | playlist

He sees the invitation in his brother’s hand first thing in the morning, and wishes he hadn’t woken up in the first place. 

Groggy and still drunk from the night before partying with Ino and his gang of friends, Sukuna blinks the crust from his eyes with wary bleariness.

“What do they want now?”

He groans, recognizing the L/N family seal from a single glance.

Jin, clad in a beige sweater the color of boring and a similar pair of bland slacks, shakes his head. “I don’t know ‘Kuna. But, I think your future in-laws want to get to know you better.”

His brother tosses the invitation onto the dining table, and turns to refill his coffee while humming under his breath. Despite his hesitation and dismay, Sukuna reaches for the innocuous item, turning it around his fingers to check the edges; evaluating the invitation like its a show pony up for sale.

Constellation Snow paper with Waterman ink. 

The L/N’s were serious about their reputation.

A cruel smirk plays on the corners of his lips. Compared to the Naras, the L/N’s were shams in their society—new money desperately trying to climb the ladder. Your mother, Lia, was descended from department store royalty but chose to taint her blood with a middle-class business associate from Shibuya who scrappily acquired his own company at the age of twenty-five.

Your family’s history was thoroughly researched on by Hiromi even before the idea of marriage was put forth, attesting to the lawyer’s incredible foresight.

And now the snakes are waiting in the bushes to strike.

However much Sukuna wants to refuse this invite, it would not look good on the Itadoris if they dismissed a future business partner.

Jin, too, appears to have the same line of thought, sitting across from him with a slight frown. The buttery smell of coffee beans wafts in the air, coaxing him from his drunken fatigue.

“So?” his younger twin asks. “Are you going to say ‘yes’?” 

Sukuna turns the card over, flips it over to his brother. Jin catches it before it goes tumbling to the ground, tossing him a scowl. He unfolds it, reads through its contents quickly.

“A getaway for a week at their private mountain lodge,” he mutters wryly. “Whatever could go wrong?”

Hearing the note of amusement in Jin’s voice, Sukuna rolls his eyes, scrubbing a hand down his face. “It's so they can force us into this alliance. How else are we going to plan an escape if we’re trapped with them on a goddamn peak.”

“Is this what you see your fate as?” Jin murmurs, trying hard not to smirk. “A trap?”

“You got a better term for it?” Sukuna grouses. “You didn’t give me a chance to say ‘no’ to the whole thing. You forced my hand before I could even consent.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jin mutters, returning back to the table with a plate of toast and some butter. Sukuna tries to grab one of the brown slices, but his brother swats his hand away with a scowl that says go get your own food.

Begrudgingly, he stands to make himself a bowl of cereal before he comes to a stop.

Usually, someone would be here to take his plate, toast his bread for him, and prepare his usual fare of strawberry jam and manuka honey on the table before he could even lift a finger. Or, they would prepare the granola and milk for him on the table before he even has to ask.

“Where’s the help today?” He suddenly realizes, perturbed by their quiet absence. 

In response, Jin hums. “I gave them a day off."

Sukuna looks at him like he has grown two heads, wondering what could possess such a man to debilitate his household like this. When he would become the man of the house, Sukuna wouldn't give them a day off on a whim like his weak-hearted younger brother.

“Why? What did they do to deserve it?” 

His blood is boiling, about to spill over in his infamous temper tantrums when Jin sighs, stopping him in his tracks with his next words.

“It’s her Death Day anniversary today.”

Sukuna almost blurts out “Who?” when the sight of Jin's grim expression suddenly jogs his memory.

He immediately remembers and wishes he hadn’t been so blunt. 

Ah.

Kaori. 

The older twin shifts uncomfortably from one foot to another. “Happy… Death Day. I guess?” 

Sukuna was lucky Jin was in a decent mood and didn't sock him in the face for that insensitive comment. As her death was two years ago, the young air stewardess’ absence was still very much felt by her grieving husband until this day—a blow to his soft heart which he will never get over for as long as he lived.

“We need to respond to that invitation,” he switches the subject, cleaning up after himself. “Oh, and with kind consideration for our future companions, the L/N’s have also offered the Gojos and Naras an invite.”

Sukuna almost choked on his cereal. “T-the Naras are coming?” 

Without turning to him or being ticked off by the change in his older brother’s tone, Jin nods, continuing to scrub his dishes. 

“James wants to talk new business terms with Ken, and he’s interested in hearing what the guy has to offer. Also, Gojo Sr. might be bringing his best cigars. It’s unmissable.”

The older Itadori internally swore, wondering if the entire universe had just upended and gone entirely insane. 

Though he was a bastard through and through, even Sukuna could admit that having his future wife and hookup slash sorta girlfriend under one roof would be a disaster waiting to happen. 

You could never find out about him and Este. 

“That’s… interesting.”

“You can join us if you want,” Jin adds, “Only if you can keep your partying tendencies on hold for three days.”

“Just for three days?” Sukuna smirks, and Jin finally turns around, giving a look he is all too familiar with.

Throwing his hands up, the older Itadori shrugs, trying his best to look as innocent as possible.

“You know me, Jin-Jin. I’m always on my best behavior.”

“Darling, we must hurry,” your father scolds, and you struggle to keep up with them in your tottering heels. Behind you, your mother shoos you down the tarmac, towards the humming private jet ready to depart. 

“We can’t keep the Itadoris waiting!” 

The maids rush with your bags, one of them carrying your fur trimmed hat in case it flutters off your head.

Once the butlers had stowed away your luggage, each of them formed a line and bowed to you and your parents as the three of you climbed up the airstairs, waving you off with polite smiles.

“I can’t believe we’re going to spend three whole days with the Itadoris,” Lia gushes as the cabin crew starts to pat down the overhead compartments, doing their final checks. She looks radiant in her mink-trimmed fur coat hanging off her shoulders, the picture of elegance with her sleek bodycon dress and sparkling golden jewelry dripping from her throat and ears.

Relaxing into the muted beige seat, you nod. “Me, too. I wonder what activities Itadori-san likes.”

In comparison to her, you're dressed in all monochrome; your stylist came in at the nick of time to take inspiration from some of his ex-girlfriends' winter fashion—settling you into a ribbed sweater dress with some stylish earmuffs and a black trench coat that feels like a million bucks under your splayed palms.

Your mother turns to your father who was trying to catch his breath, shaking out his handkerchief to pat his shining face.

“Jiro, darling. Do you think it’s brazen if we request for them to share a room together?” 

Your father looks over his half-moon spectacles, tilting his head to the side. “Itadori-san and our daughter? Well, I don’t see why not.”

You blanch, but before you are able to voice your discontent, an air stewardess glides by with three flutes of champagne. Setting it down, she asks in a soft voice if you were all ready for refreshments.

Unsure how to broach the subject, you stew in your disappointment for the entire plane ride to Hokkaido, glad you chose the window seat so you could spend a little more time alone in your thoughts.

Your phone vibrates with a text, and you switch it on to find Utahime sending you a GIF of a cat waving a good luck banner.

Smiling to yourself, you respond with another cat GIF, this one sticking its face to a window with its whiskers twitching sorrowfully, and put your phone on silent for takeoff.

Iori could always make you smile, no matter how nervous you are. You kind of wish she could be here with you. Staring out at the passing scenery below, you tilt your head back, wondering what kind of carnage awaits at the base of mountainous Hokkaido.

Since striking lucky with his marriage to your mother, your father began divesting his profits into property, and the 5,000 feet lodge instantly became the highlight of his purchases. 

Imposing and standing firm on fortified concrete to withstand the harsh, cold mountain air, your childhood days were spent playing in the narrow hallways, fashioned similarly to the labyrinth-like interior of Europe’s oldest castles. Your parents absolutely adored German architecture with its spiraling spires and brick red slates upon such historical monuments, and wanted to emulate the design right on the slopes of Hakodate. 

It’s been years since I’ve seen the lodge. 

The last time you were there, you were just shy of your sixteenth birthday. 

Bright-eyed, and romantically wistful. You often imagined how pretty it would be to walk along the grand balcony as the sun performed its final best for the day; orange rays soaking your skin from head to toe as you admire nature's best while hand-in-hand with a man you love.

And now, your fantasies have a chance of turning into reality. 

You wonder how Sukuna will feel when he sees the spires, the chimneys, and the cozy old brick walls that allows for the warmth of the house to seep into them despite the persistent chill.

He would be impressed—you like to think he might be a bit more polite once he sees your family is just like his. Just as powerful and grand and worthy. 

Smiling secretly to yourself, you swallow down an Ambien, slip on your headphones, and settle into the comfortable seats for the start of your wildest hopes coming true.

The private car taking them up the winding road almost makes Sukuna turn green around the edges.

Jin sits beside him, a faint flush on his cheeks from the cold despite not having reached the mountain’s first base. Their mother used to always tease how he was the easiest to blush or bruise; so much different from his staunch older brother.

“The weather is lovely,” his twin muses.

Sukuna stares out the window, not bothering to hide his sulky mood. His phone is off, his last text from Este snidely insulting the L/N’s on how they only had two private hot springs in their lodge went unreplied. 

He hasn’t bothered to respond to her because he’ll see her soon enough. 

Fuck… this is some twisted shit. A part of him still can’t wrap his head around the fact that his situationship and future fiance would be in the same room together. 

Jin hums, breaking him from his thoughts, and after a brief lull, shoots up excitedly, tapping the driver’s seat. “It’s this one! We’re here.”

Unable to match his enthusiasm, Sukuna sighs deeply and rolls his eyes. The driver stops the Jeep right in front of the lodge, and for a split second, Sukuna wonders if the Ambien he took on the private-plane ride here accidentally knocked him out long enough for them to appear in the middle of Heidelberg or some far flung place in fucking Europe. 

This lodge had fucking spires, for god’s sake. 

He can’t help the bubble of distaste gurgling in his chest when he sees such opulence in the middle of nowhere. Inaccessible to the base unless with a Jeep and a day’s worth of travel, one could only imagine the amount needed to keep a money drainer like this going. 

They’re rubbing their wealth in our face, he sneers inwardly. What a nouveau riche thing to do. 

A butler rushes out to hoist their bags, allowing Jin and him the leisure to crane their necks and take in more of the grand rooms. Wooden timber floors echo the dull thuds of their boots, high beams in the same honey color wood arching and intersecting, opening the living room into an expansive ceiling and windows that seem to touch the sky. 

The interior is tasteful with accents of natural wood on the walls, a spiral staircase, and a large fireplace that’s happily belching heat across a sunken pit fitted with black corduroy sofas. A flat screen TV is on, and Sukuna almost misses a bundle moving from the end of the chair, walking right to them.

You're in a silky black dress with a sweetheart neckline, house slippers on your perfectly manicured feet. So different from the beige and bland girl he saw at the cafe that Sukuna has to hide his double take behind a sudden cough, the tips of his ears feeling a little bit warmer than before.

Jin is the one who smiles widely, bowing low. “Y/N. It’s good to see you.”

Returning his gesture, you grin. “It’s lovely to see you too, Itadori-san,” and not forgetting Sukuna, you added, “You too, Itadori-san.”

“Please, call me Jin,” the younger twin extends a note of familiarity and you receive it graciously with another smile. 

From the corner of his eye, Jin glances at Sukuna, as if expecting him to drop all formalities with the woman who was soon to be his wife. But, the older twin did no such thing; nodding to you in greeting while keeping his antipathy closely tucked to his chest.

“Hello again, Y/N.” 

Though his abrupt unfriendliness puts you off, you plaster on your best hostess smile, about to show the two brothers to their rooms when your mother’s shrill voice pierces through the quiet. 

“Jin-san! Itadori-san!” Exuberant, she bounces down the steps, fresh from a shower and wearing a new coat of makeup after the dreary flight. “You’re both here!” 

Jin takes her hand, and in a gallant gesture you never expect him to do, presses the back of it to his lips. “Lovely to see you again, Lia.”

You never thought you’d see the day when your mother stutters like a schoolgirl in love. She coughs, batting her lashes and turns to the older twin. “Itadori-san.” To him, she bows slightly, showing him deference as the older brother in this dynamic. This time, Sukuna returns her bow, knowing full well that to lord his rank over them would be disrespectful to his host.

“Lia-san. You look well.”

Beaming at the two men, your mother sinks her fingers into your shoulders. “I’m so happy you finally got to meet Y/N in person, Jin-san. Isn’t she lovely?” 

Diplomatic to a fault, the younger twin nods. “She is as lovely as you are, Lia-san.” 

Expectantly, she turns to Sukuna, who clears his throat, his skin suddenly crawling from all eyes on him. “The cold air does wonders for all of us,” were his words. You feel your mother’s fingers digging deeper. 

Sparing the room from an awkward note, you clear your throat. “Shall we show them to their rooms, mom?” Emphasizing on the last word, you effectively break Lia’s spell, her million dollar modeling smile back on. 

“Yes. Yes. Jin-san, I hope you don’t mind rooming with Gojo Satoru when he arrives. He barely sleeps, but then again, so do you. I’m afraid his father couldn’t make it due to a sudden stomach bug so he’s the only one representing the Gojos.” 

Jin remains genial. “I would love to catch up with Satoru when he arrives.”

“Perfect.” She turns her smile to Sukuna, who feels every expectation surrounding him amplifying; dread pools in his stomach when the physical embodiment of lies and deception starts deepening her grin. Lia unclasps one hand from your shoulder to grip Sukuna’s bicep.

“I hope you don’t mind me taking the liberty to make a special arrangement for you, Itadori-san.”

He wonders if they’re going to put him with your father in a separate room; already the picture of the older man’s twisted words and smarmy grin come to his mind, trying to force his hand to hurry up and marry you.

But, what Lia says is much worse than his imagination could conjure. Her hand on his arm burns hot and prickles his skin past the cashmere sleeve.

“I’ve put a room together just for you and my daughter, of course.”

Jin swears he’s never had to drag Sukuna out from a room fast enough. 

His brother seethes, hands clenching open and close while he tries to find a quiet enough spot so the older twin doesn’t explode into a raging temper tantrum. 

“‘Kuna, it’s okay,” he consoles, but Sukuna doesn’t want to hear it. 

“How dare they think they can do this!” His jaw tenses, veins popping from his neck. The kitchen is empty, though for it to be free of errant eyes and ears, Jin can’t be sure.

“Hey, come on—don’t lose it here now,” Jin begs. 

The older twin’s volatile temper is hard to predict and even harder to cool down once he reaches that peak of no return. To think it would be triggered by a simple room assignment would be comical if Jin has had a few beers, but this just solidifies to him how acutely Sukuna truly resents you.

It takes Jin aback. You’re such a sweet person; a kind soul. Why would his brother react in such a way to you was a mystery to the younger man. He doesn't have time to prod further. Voices ring down the hallway, and Jin recognizes Adam Nara’s jolly baritone, following Gojo Sr.’s cheerful greeting to your father.

The other players have entered the game. Jin couldn't afford to lose face now.

He grabs his brother by the shoulders and shakes him a little. 

“Listen, shit face. Our enemies and alliances are just beyond this door. If you love ka-san and oto-san—” Scratch that. Sukuna cares for no one but himself. Jin shakes his head. “If you care about the money and getting your inheritance, I need you to pull yourself together. Just for this evening. Got it?”

Sukuna doesn’t respond, and Jin’s no longer the nice, younger brother he has to be in front of others. He transforms into Itadori Jin, de facto Chairman of Itadori Holdings, his shoulders squared and mouth set in a firm line. Purely meaning business.

If he wasn’t in such a rage, Sukuna would find the change impressive; he’s almost quivering in his boots. 

“You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to play nice, you hear me?” There’s a threat hidden behind his calm words—the edge of a sharp knife wrapped in between soft sheets. “You will be polite to Y/N, treat her parents with respect and you will be married by the end of this month, am I clear?” 

It stung. It bruises his ego to have Jin control his life. 

But, didn’t you give up the crown when you decided to leave the family and make it on your own? A small, bitter voice in the back of his head quips. 

He’s quick to shoot it down, though a lingering sense of loathing balloons in his chest. It’s humiliation and resignation all in one. Sukuna pauses for a second, letting Jin stew in his anger, before slowly nodding.

His younger brother exhales, and releases his death grip from his twin’s shoulders. 

“Good. If you’re antsy about the room situation, you can always tell Lia you want to protect her daughter’s virtue. It’ll be a decent enough reason and score you brownie points with the family.”

Jin’s words which were meant to soothe and comfort him, strikes a chord, flipping the switch in his mind. Excitement bubbles right in the pit of his stomach.

If I can’t change my fate in this arrangement, maybe I can influence it. 

“No,” he says coolly, taking his brother aback. “I’ll do it.” Jin stares at him as if someone had just swooped in and switched his twin with a different man. 

Is he planning something insidious? Though the Itadori Chairman has his suspicions, he can’t outright call his brother out on it—not when Sukuna is making the effort to appease and honor the deal.

“Okay,” Jin says slowly, though the note of hesitation and distrust is palpable. 

Sukuna maintains his innocent facade with a blank mask, the markings on his face starker under the orange light.

Jin represses a shudder, trying not to let the memory of that day come up again.

The voices outside grow louder, and he can scarcely ignore them.

Duty’s calling and he has to answer.

“Alright,” he murmurs into the quiet. “Let’s go outside to meet them.” Before Sukuna can leave, Jin grasps his shoulder, forcing him to round back and look at him.

Wearing a look awfully similar to Wasuke, Jin wags his finger. 

“Remember, ‘Kuna. No fucking funny business.”

He stops, rolls his eyes and plants a crooked smile in place. It’s the smile that could win any girl over into his bed for the night no matter her relationship status; reassures the most fidgety investor that their returns would be safe with him.

“You have nothing to worry about, Jin. No funny business—I promise.”

Itadori Wasuke wasn’t just a father—he was the blueprint to Jin’s lifepath. 

Ever since he could walk and talk, Jin loved following his dad around—tottering into meetings, plopping himself onto the older man’s lap and grabbing the papers on his desk to drool over them. 

Despite his status as a ruthless businessman and one of the shrewdest minds in transportation, Wasuke loved nothing more than to indulge his boys with time, wisdom, and guidance. He would never push his youngest away—always with a firm hand and a soothing voice to lead him in the right direction. 

Rainy days were Jin’s favorite. His father usually sat himself in the parlor with a cigarette and the latest paper, relaxing after a day filled with nothing but meetings.

The memory of him clambering on the couch next to him, curls of nicotine smoke filling the air, was such a vivid one Jin still thinks he can smell the tobacco on his skin. 

“What’re you doing here?” His father’s faded pink hair, a rarity in this world which he passed to his two sons, shone like silk under the amber lighting, those red-brown eyes dancing with mirth at the sight of his golden child. 

Jin fiddles with his fingers, suddenly aware of the secret he was holding and how much it could ruin his father’s mood. But, he had no choice. He had to tell his dad before the maids could beat him to it and get his nii-san into more trouble than he already was in.

“Um… it’s ‘K-Kuna, oto-san.”

At the mention of his oldest, Wasuke snaps the paper close, the fine lines around his mouth deepening.

“What happened to him? Did he do something wrong again?” 

Blaming Sukuna was a default in the Itadori home. Sometimes, Jin overhears his father lamenting to his mother past the thin doors, wondering where and how he went wrong in raising two sons who were as different as day and night.

“He… made a bet at school and…” Jin sucks in a breath.

Putting the newspaper down, Wasuke’s attention was fully on him, those vermillion eyes ablaze. “Well? What happened? Did he hurt someone?”

Flinching, Jin shakes his head. His brother may be a jerk and a rebel, but Sukuna would never hurt someone intentionally. Deep down in his heart, the youngest twin was sure of it. 

“He made a bet with some boys and lost and he—” Jin exhales out the last part in one, frighteningly quick breath. “—hewentandgothisfacetattooed.”

His father blinks. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt, pushed past his elbows were stretched across his taut arms, as if he was holding himself back from slamming his fists into the table.

“Where is he?” Deceptively calm; a storm brewing in the distance.

Jin naively hoped his father would put things right again—talk some sense into Sukuna to get those tattoos removed from his face and arms.

They were the Itadoris, a respectful house.

How was his nii-san supposed to lead a company when he didn’t look professional at all? And not to mention, they were both fifteen—they were too young to think about permanent inks and bets.

Wasuke seems to echo his youngest son’s thoughts, sinking back into the plush, leather sofa and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Jin can tell his father is going through a range of emotions—the blood rushes to his face, leaves his cheeks red, puce, and then sickeningly green around the edges.

This is bad. This is very, very bad.

“Thank you for telling me, Jin,” his father finally manages to compose himself enough to pat his head. “You can go back to bed now. I’ll speak to Sukuna when he comes back home.”

Stiffly, the youngest twin stands, bowing once to his dad. He wishes the old man a goodnight and trudges back to bed, unaware of a woman lurking in the corner who slinks into the room, having heard everything that transpired between her husband and son.

“—what did he do now?”

A resounding crash shakes the walls, and Jin freezes, darting behind a potted plant to listen in.

His mother’s shrieks filter past the flimsy wood; their argument front and center for the whole house to hear.

Jin hears snatches of the altercation, his heart plummeting right to his stomach.

“—your son!” His father roars.

“You mean, our son!” his mother yells back. There’s another crash, and Jin covers his ears, shaking his head from side to side.

Make it stop, please. Make it stop. 

The guilt eats him alive, especially when he hears what his father says next.

“Fifteen years I’ve been tolerating that boy, but it has to end here. He can’t keep misbehaving as if the world owes him everything at his feet. If this keeps up—” Wasuke swears, and a heavy object crashes into the wall. His mother shrieks. “—I’ll make Jin my heir!” 

At the mention of his name, the young boy freezes, not daring to even breathe.

His father can't make him the heir. It would break his older brother's heart.

“You can’t!” she sobs. “It’s against the natural rule of things! Sukuna is set to inherit the fortune. You can’t change the order of our world, Wasuke!”

His father laughs, a terrifying, full belly roar which makes the ground shake and his chest cave in. 

“I can and I will. You watch me, woman. The will is mine and mine alone to execute. If you keep this up—protecting that stupid boy when he doesn't deserve it, I will send him to the military and keep him there until he finally grows a spine and some common sense, you hear?! I can have him killed in battle—”

Kasumi screams again, and this time, it claws straight through Jin’s soul; a wounded animal sound of a mother terrified for her young.

“Dear, please. He’s only a boy. Only a child. You can’t expect the world of him. He is your blood and flesh—”

“Someone this idiotic and foolish will never be my son and I will never claim him!” 

From the corner of his eye, Jin spots movement by the stairs. His brother, backpack slung across his shoulder, skin around his face and arms mottled and red from the tattoos, pauses at the top step.

“He has done nothing but bring shame to the Itadori name!” 

Wasuke bellows, his next words rattling the roof and breaking every heart within the vicinity; most of all, his oldest son’s who had innocently stumbled into the middle of the fray without any warning. 

“I wouldn’t care if he lived or died! I have Jin and he’s the better choice.” A loaded exhale—a reloading of more emotionally charged bullets. 

“You and that bastard can fucking rot to death for all I care."

Sukuna rubs a hand down his face, feeling the steam clinging onto his pores. 

The onsen was quiet tonight, everyone in the house either up in the parlor drinking, smoking, or by the sunken sofa fireplace, exchanging gossip about another up-and-coming family or an investment scheme gone wrong. 

He’s never been one to belong in a world like this, so Sukuna had taken his leave early after dinner with the excuse that he was feeling a headache coming along. The maids had already hauled his suitcase up to the suite he would be sharing with you, and thankfully, you were locked in a conversation with Gojo Satoru, the only other person around his, Jin’s, Este’s, and your age on this trip to notice he had gone missing. 

While his brother plays along with the whims of the upper echelon, Sukuna prefers to submerge his tired body in the mineral-dense waters. 

Though the woman he was fucking was here, too, Sukuna had reservedly given her a one-sided hug when Este walked in, green eyes sparkling and looking like the picture of allure in her ermine coat and slinky black dress. Throughout dinner, she kept on glancing at him, and he tried to pretend like her eyes didn’t bore holes into the side of his head; that her accusatory glare didn’t feel hot on the back of his neck when he was forced to sit beside you during dessert, striking up an awkward conversation.

For your part, you had no idea the woman whose bed he warms is in the same room as you, and Sukuna likes to keep it that way. There will be hell to pay if word of this gets out. 

Footsteps resound, prickling his ears. Through the steam and fog of this glass room, he makes out a familiar figure walking right towards him, clad in just a towel.

“Sukuna-san.”

Este stands, long brown hair shimmering like a coat of silky chocolate down her back, the rise of her collarbones already flushing red from the steam. There’s a look in her eyes that spells trouble when she slinks closer towards him.

Acutely aware of his nakedness, Sukuna does nothing but a cock a brow in her direction.

“Getting bolder now, I see.”

But, he doesn’t stop her from sinking one foot into the natural hewn pool, her towel melting off her body and falling in a heap behind her.

He unabashedly drinks in her curves; the mole on her left breast he loves to bite down on, those puckered nipples tightening from the humidity. The planes of her abs defined from years of pilates led right to a smattering of dark hair near her pubic bone, and he caught the slightest glance of that little hole he loves when she parts her legs, sitting comfortably against the rock across from him.

Rolling her neck from side to side, Este sighs deeply.

“What a bore this is. I honestly thought mom would let me smoke here, but she says she doesn’t want to give the Gojo’s a wrong idea.” Her full lips twist into a sneer. “You’re not looking any better.”

He scoffs, splashing her with the warm water. Este shrieks, giving him a murderous glare.

Outside, a light snowfall starts to descend, tiny flakes lingering on the transparent dome. It’s ethereal and romantic, though the woman in front of him ruins his view. 

You stand by the door, unsure if you should step in when you see Sukuna and another gorgeous woman in the onsen. They’re both bickering, and Sukuna stops when he notices you about to turn and leave.

“Hey. Join us.”

His low baritone is crisp. Commanding.

You can’t turn away, not when he’s already noticed you.

Plastering on a fake smile, you shake your head, trying to beat a hasty retreat. “M-my bad, Itadori-san. Nara-san. I thought the onsen was empty—”

Este, daughter of James Nara and one of the richest trust fund babies in Japan, snorts. She’s beautiful, but something about her sharp features and those plump lips makes a shiver run down your spine. It’s as if she’s a bloodhound, trying to sniff out your weakness. She bares her too white teeth and you’re reminded of a Great White seconds away from snapping a fish’s spine in half.

“Nonsense. This is your house, Y/N-san. You should join us. We want to know everything about you.”

The back of your neck prickles, and it’s not from the heat. 

Sludges of white gather atop the dome, trickling down to the packed ground like you were stuck inside a live snow globe. Your smile tightens around the edges and you clutch the towel in a numb grip, mind blanking out on an excuse.

These onsens were your private escape from the real world, and you rarely took a dip naked in front of your own family, let alone a pair of strangers.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, growing annoyed at your floundering and hesitation. “Look. Either you join us, or you leave us to continue our conversation. We were in the middle of something.”

Cheeks flushing warmly, you felt the chill deepening in your soul. Your smile never broke, but you darted your eyes away from his indifferent expression, corners of your lips quivering.

Snapping your mouth shut, you nod. “I… I’ll leave you two alone, then.”

The minute you leave the room, Este turns to him. “Ouch. That was kinda harsh.”

Sukuna snorts, and with the knowledge of you not returning into the room now that he had humiliated you, he brazenly draws Este to his lap, nuzzling his face into her neck.

She purrs, looking like the cat who got the cream when she straddles his lap, letting him feast his hungry eyes over her perfect body. The tip of her acrylic traces down the tattoo near his jaw, and that diabolical smile of hers deepens. 

“That was your fiance, Ryomen. You should be nicer to her.”

He makes a sound of disagreement in the back of his throat, moving his cool lips from the hollow of her neck to the rise of her breasts. Licking and sucking at her nipples, he alternates, biting down on the flesh, blowing on those buds to watch them harden into stiff, pink peaks. Her soft moans carry together with the steam rising to the top of the glass ceiling; those verdant eyes rolling back into her head from the shivers he was wracking in her body.

“Stop talking about her,” he murmurs, lifting her up slightly by the hips and sliding his already throbbing cock deep into her twitching heat. She winces, stabs her nails into his shoulders from the sudden stretch. “I need to fuck you.”

She ticks her hips forward, a little slutty show just for him. Sukuna can tell the idea of fucking him with you under the same roof is driving her wild.

“m’not on the pill today,” she whispers into the hot shell of his ear, running her tongue over the delicate ridges. Sukuna’s fingers are bruising her hips, rutting deep into her. He likes how she takes him without complaint or prep—the perfect hole to be used and abused. 

He’s thrusting into a spot inside of her that’s too deep to reach, snaking his hand around her throat and squeezing down hard.

“Don’t care,” he breathes heavily, vermillion eyes hooded; harsh tattoos lining his face jumping out from under the low light. “Just pop something after.”

He’s evil and tantalizing—the devil she readily gives her body to whenever he snaps his fingers.

Este nods, leaning back to brace her hands against his strong thighs, eager to please him. 

“Yes, Sir.”

It was once said that the greatest artists in this world found contentment within their own solitude where their wildest inspirations could come to life with no judgment from the public eye. 

Though you could not compare to Van Gogh or Monet, you had to admit that there was a shred of truth to those words. 

Mountain air fills your lungs, and you span your gaze towards the horizon as your eyes can see. The easel you requested the butlers to prepare was your standing guard, the blank canvas leaning on it your enemy to parry with.

Like a writer hunched over their incomplete manuscript, your art block was equally as vicious. The lines and colors eluded you, and you could not focus a single thought on what was to be the final outcome. 

You could paint the view, but it was overdone and frankly, expected.

Maybe you could dig deep into the stinging pain in your chest you felt the night before and scoop it up, smear it across the blank whiteness, and stain it with your embarrassment and indignation.

Sighing deeply, you lean back on the stool, setting your paintbrush down and rubbing the back of your neck.

“Art block can be a bitch, huh?” 

You whirl around to find a tall man with a mop of white hair approaching you with his hands in his bathrobe pockets, wearing a charming, lopsided smile. 

“Gojo-san,” you immediately straighten and he waves your formalities away. 

“Satoru,” he says and looks you up and down. “You left last night. After dessert. Smart.”

Letting out a gust of breath you didn’t know you were holding, you tilt your head to the side in confusion. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, just your parents pulling us into the parlor for some charades,” he chuckles at the recollection, and this close, you can’t help but notice even his eyelashes are the color of powdery white snow. “It’s been a while since I went on a family getaway. I’m not much of a homey son, you see. I rarely spend time with family and would much rather be handling business.”

“Ha,” you snort, and then, slap a hand over your mouth as if to cover for your mistake. 

Though word in your world runs rampant, no news came faster (even to a wallflower like you) of how rebellious and unorthodox the Gojo family’s only son was.

Satoru’s bright eyes, the color of a melted icy river in the middle of summer, seems to twinkle at your slip-up.

“Did I say something amusing?”

You quickly shake your head, though your warm cheeks betray you. “N-no, Gojo-s—Satoru.”

Cursing your careless mouth and actions, you take this moment to turn back to your canvas, picking up your paintbrush and pretending to concentrate on your next stroke.

Undeterred by your lack of forthcoming conversation, you feel him approaching you from the back, coming to stand over your shoulder.

“You know, if you wanted to lie, you could’ve done so by telling me how I absolutely do not deserve the Gojo Chairman position.” Those eyes sparkle with barely concealed mirth. “Or, don’t you agree with what everyone else is saying?” 

Gaping, you turn to him. “Wh—Satoru, that’s a cruel thing for me to say to someone I barely know!”

That amused grin never left his sightly lips, and you couldn’t help but notice how well-moisturized they were. Not even a dry fleck of skin on them, despite the atrociously cold weather.

As if noticing your train of thought, Gojo smiles and changes the subject. “It’s awfully cold out here. Why are you painting in the middle of such freezing weather?”

The words tumble past your defenses before you could rein them in, yet another slip up from your distracted morning. “I find the cold air to be refreshing. It helps to clear my mind.”

Gojo stands there, back straight, and for a single moment, you can imagine him in the middle of a boardroom, scrutinizing a subordinate and catching them in the middle of a flimsy lie.

But, you were not his employee, and Satoru was a welcomed guest under your roof. He could not overstep his boundaries.

“I see.” 

It seems he has something he wants to say but can’t put forth; the minute struggle in those cerulean blue eyes gives away a deeper meaning. The vulnerable connection that trembles between both your held gazes dissipates like fine mist—never there in the first place—and he’s back to being his usual cryptic, teasing self.

“I shall leave you alone then, Miss Y/N. Ah, my apologies.” He smacks his forehead, correcting his mistake instantly. 

“Wrong name. I hope you have a wonderful painting session… Mrs. Itadori to-be.”

That night, you return to the huge double rooms to find your fiance out cold.

His broad back turned towards the wall, arm dangling from the edge of the huge, ornate sofa your mother personally sourced from Istanbul. You try and fail to hide your surprise, wondering what he’s done to venture into your part of the room.

The memories twist and turn, rising like black smoke from the ashes of your dismay and stinging disappointment at how petty Sukuna could be.

“You’re sleeping on the sofa,” he mumbles, “I don’t do well with company in my bed.” 

You’re about to argue, when he takes the room, slamming the door closed and clicking it shut. At least the maids had left out some pillows and a blanket on the sofa for you both to divide and claim… but if Sukuna didn’t want you near him, shouldn’t he be a gentleman and take the couch instead? 

There’s no soothing the prickling shame you feel when you realize your fiance has given you the cold shoulder in a space that belongs to your family. Belonged to you. Is this how he will treat me for the entire marriage? You approach the door, about to bang on it with your fists when you hear the first stirrings of a snore. 

Faltering, you bite your lower lip. To risk waking Sukuna up and infuriating him further which would ruin the entire arrangement your family was trying to secure for you… or to bite your tongue for a night and hope he would be more forgiving come morning? 

You sighed, plodding over to the sofa, still in your dress which Okura-san sourced straight from an underground Chinese designer—the same talent Sukuna’s last ex-girlfriend, Sora Hyuk, was fond of. Thumbing the hem, you feel like tearing it off and throwing it into the fireplace, your cheeks warm with embarrassment and resentment.

If only your parents could see you now. 

The truth was, you could tell them what Sukuna had done—how he had embarrassed you so openly and without hesitation right in the heart of your vacation home. But, knowing your parents and how diligent they were with moving up the ladder, your complaints would be nothing but fodder for them to sneer at when they were both alone.

A daughter is nothing but a bartering chip. That is what your mother had once told you. 

And that is why, despite how coldly Sukuna had locked you out of the shared room, you took comfort in the antechamber where no one, not even the maids, could come in without your permission. 

Good thing the fire is burning, you thought, as you kicked off your slippers and sank into the soft couch, trying to drift off into an uneasy sleep. I'll count that as a small blessing for today.

Blinking back the painful reminder, you’re about to roughly shake him off the sofa, marching towards him with your expression scrunched up in anger.

Grabbing his shoulder, you give it a push, and he barely moves.

“Oi,” you huff. “Wake up. You’re in my spot.”

Another push. Sukuna doesn’t even groan.

Suddenly, a chilling sensation seizes over you. Without wasting time, you flip him onto his back, bracing yourself on the edge of the wide sofa. 

Sukuna’s eyes are rolled back into his head, the whites of them shining under the warm, orange light of the chandelier above. You scream and try to shake him, smacking his shoulder to rouse him back from unconsciousness. When he doesn’t move, you grab the first thing you see—a cup of tea you were halfway drinking in the morning, long cold and still with the tea bag attached—and throw it right into his face.

Immediately, his eyes snap back, pupils smaller than pinpricks as he roughly grasps you, dragging you under his bigger build.

Flecks of black tea fall into your face, almost dripping into your wide open mouth, frozen in a mid-shriek.

“What the fuck did you do?” He snarls, and without warning, the tea bag clinging for its dear life on top of his head slides off his pink locks and plops right onto your cheek. 

Sukuna grabs it and brings it closer to his face, sneering at the small brown-soaked sachet and tossing it over his shoulder with his scarily fast reflexes.

“You weren’t responding,” you stutter, pointing one trembling finger to his eyes. “And your eyes were rolled back. I—I thought you were having a seizure.”

“I wasn’t.” His nostrils flare, and those piercing red-brown eyes feel like they could dig right into your soul; scooping up your second-hand embarrassment and smearing it all over your shell-shocked face. “You had no fucking right to pull such a stunt on me—who the fuck do you think you are?”

It’s the most he’s ever spoke to you, and it riles you up how defensive he’s being—like you were some nuisance of a toddler purposely destroying his expensive things and not someone who was trying to save his fucking life.

Who did this man take you for?

You open your mouth, but he beats you to the punch. 

“Don’t ever touch me without my permission. Do you understand me?” 

You snap your mouth close, feeling the chagrin and indignation brimming behind your eyes. If he didn’t let you go right this instant, you were going to burst out in tears right in front of him—an act which would surely annoy him more rather than make him suddenly tender to your afflictions. 

It’s like he doesn't even have a heart.

Thankfully, Sukuna releases your wrists and rolls off you. 

“We both can’t sleep on the sofa since it’s fucking stained with tea—no thanks to you.” His expression is like someone had shoved sour powder down his throat. “I suppose… there’s the room.”

You don’t even try to hide the disbelieving confusion bleeding across your face. This man who nearly threw a fit because you had tried to resuscitate him… was buying into the idea of sharing a bed with you? 

“But, I thought you didn’t want me to touch you without your permission?”

An honest inquiry. You had only wanted to remind him of the words he said to you in case he thought you hadn’t clocked it in.

However, the reaction you receive confirms everything you implicitly knew and more: Sukuna, without a doubt, hated your entire guts for reasons unknown to you. 

Those vermillion eyes become glacial, freezing over any attempt at diffusing the tension in this situation you were trying your hardest to salvage. 

“Who said you would be on the bed?” He gestures behind his back, towards the room you were forbidden from sleeping in despite your family name stamped on this lodge.

“The floor’s comfy,” his callous words chill you right to your soul; you think you might actually start to lose it because of how cruel he’s being to you. “You can take it, can’t you?” 

Biting your bottom lip, you physically have to will the tears away—not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

“Yes,” you murmur softly, turning your gaze to the floor. 

You have to do this—you don't have a choice. 

For the sake of this arrangement. For the sake of your father’s business. 

“You can take the bed. I’ll take the floor… Itadori-san.” 

After another day in the mountains, your mother thought it was a good idea to bond with you over a foot massage. 

There’s a Thai massage parlor down at the base of the mountain, their herbal baths and footstone rubs rumored to cure even the worst altitude sickness. Driving past the winding mountainous edge slowly, the car ride was bumpy, jolting you with jerkish movements that make your head spin. As the Range Rover idles to a stop, the driver opens the doors, and your mother steps out, barely paying him any attention.

Meanwhile, you turn to the older driver and whisper, “Thank you,” while handing him a ¥1,000 bill. He takes it with a bright grin, tips his hat, and waits inside the humming vehicle as you both get started on your pampering session. 

“Sit here, Y/N,” Lia waves you over, completely ignoring the masseuse ushering her to another seat further back.

You follow your mother obediently, taking the reclining chair next to her. 

The leather creaks under your weight as you slowly slide to a comfortable position. Glancing at your mother, you’re surprised to see her eyes sparkling, and she’s close enough to grip your arm, excitedly shaking your shoulder. “So?” she demands, and you give her a confused look.

“So… what?”

“Sukuna, you dummy,” she huffs, rolling her eyes. If there was a man here, he would stop dead in his tracks, enamored by your mother’s alluring and natural sass. 

Thankfully, the masseuses were all foreign women, and as they washed your feet with soap and warm water, you hesitantly updated here about your living situation with Sukuna.

“He’s nice enough,” you mumble weakly. Lia taps her milky white French tips on the chair’s arm, waiting for you to add more. 

“Um.” You flounder. “He’s a heavy sleeper, too—barely moves when we sleep next to each other.”

Another lame addition. This time, her nose crinkles. If only she could be a fly on your bedroom wall, seeing how Sukuna treats you with disdain and exasperation; making you sleep on the floor while he hogs the king-sized bed all for himself.

“It sounds like you’re both barely speaking to one another,” Lia deduces, arching a perfectly groomed brow. “Is that right?” 

You deflate. If there’s one person in the world who can call you out on your bullshit, it would be the woman who birthed and raised you. “Yes.” You finally admit. “I can’t seem to crack through him, mom. He’s so guarded.”

At your rising frustration, she hums and leans back, eyes falling close. You follow the same, feeling the older masseuse’s firm knuckles rubbing up and down your aching Achilles tendon. 

There’s nothing filling your senses but the smell of lemongrass oil and the warmth of the heaters blowing hot air circulating around the room. Someone places a cup of tea and biscuits on your left side table, and you open your eyes; picking up the brew and enjoying the sourish sweet tang of lemongrass tea on your tongue.

“Sukuna-san is a notoriously hard man to know because of his upbringing.”

You pause, cup hovering close to your lips. Setting it down on the lacquered wood table with a crisp click, you frown. 

“What do you mean, mom?” 

Lia opens her eyes, staring up the ceiling as she rummages in her memories for a recollection you weren’t aware of. 

“Sukuna-san’s mother—Kasumi—passed away when he was just 18. Wasuke, his father, followed her 3 years after, and they made Jin Itadori heir because Sukuna fled Tokyo and stayed in Madrid for almost a decade.”

Filled with curiosity, you furrow your brows. “Did they say why he left home in such a rush?” 

“No one knows,” your mother clarifies. “But, one day, he showed up, and Jin took him back in—the prodigal brother making his return.”

“I bet it would’ve been interesting to be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” you snort.

Lia gives you a look. “It wasn’t. I heard the rumors that both brothers were more than estranged—they barely spoke to each other in that decade when Sukuna was missing. But, Jin has always been a kind man, and he let his brother’s misdoings slide—just wanting him to come back home.”

You feel a begrudging sense of respect for the younger Itadori twin. “He seems more like my match than Sukuna-san.”

Your words were meant to be a joke, but it rubs Lia the wrong way. She scowls, lifting a brow. “Don’t you even dare to think of something like that, Y/N.” 

Instantly chastised, you quieten. Lia continues, on a roll from your careless remark. 

“Jin-san loves his wife too much—she passed away during childbirth and he treasures Yuuji more than any gold in this world. He would not spare you a second look, and so, Sukuna was chosen for you.”

“But, why?” 

Frustration bedevils you, and you spew out the first question on your mind. “Why would Sukuna-san be a better match for me? We have nothing in common.”

The masseuses are pretending not to listen in to the conversation, heads bent low and focusing all their attention on melting away the stress that was mounting more and more with every passing second you spent in your mother’s presence.

Lia’s left eye twitches, a sign she’s growing more irritated by the second. “Y/N, don’t spit in fate’s face when they give you a golden egg. Sukuna-san is perfect for you because he’s not picky. He would have anyone familiar with the ways of our society… even if they call you a Wisteria Woman to your face.”

Hurt bleeds through her tone, and you’re reminded once again of how low your family standing is compared to the Itadoris. While they were a family from old transportation money back during Tokyo’s electrical motor boom, your family rode on the backs of your grandfather’s standing to give your father’s ideas a chance to win over prickly investors. 

Eventually, he clawed his way through the world of politics through grit and a good dose of ass-kissing, earning a cushy spot at the top where he’s starting to see his results flourish—the first one being your marriage to a well-established house.

But, it wasn’t always a smooth journey to where your family was now. 

Your mother had to endure years of other rich wives' subtle digging and whispers behind palms—calling her a “Wisteria Woman”—mocking her patience in clinging onto your father as he steadily rose to popularity; calling her a foolish woman only concerned with social status.

It was an insincere attempt at making her an object of ridicule, at best. Your grandfather’s wealth as the king of department stores before his demise could buy over any of these small family’s trust funds three times over.

“They don’t know what they’re saying, mom,” you remind her. “You’ve always stood by dad’s side because you believed in the man he could become one day. And it’s paid off—they’re the ones eating their words now.”

Lia fixes her gaze on you, her expression softening. You think she might even reach out and pat your head. But, she only gives you a single piece of advice, further solidifying that despite all your protests, your marriage to Sukuna has already been woven in the threads of fate long before you were even aware of it. 

“Y/N, I want you to remember this well—no matter what these people say to your face or whisper behind your back... don’t you ever give them the satisfaction of seeing that they’re right.”

a/n. drama on the mountains alert! drama on the mountains alert!

btw feedbacks and reblogs will always be loved <3 thank you for supporting my story thus far i luv u

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my work, repost, change the sentence structures, translate across any other platforms. and claim as your own

[writerdream22]

requested by: anon, I sincerely hope you like this ✨🌻💛

pairings: Sirius Black x reader (platonic), James Potter x reader (platonic), Lily Evans x reader (platonic), Remus Lupin x reader, etc.

warnings: female!reader. there might be some curse words

a/n: for the Amortentia smell I took inspiration from a post by @littlemessyjessi (it was amazingly detailed omg)

It has been some time since I’ve last written on this blog, and I'm not confident in my writing anymore. I'm sorry if this is too long or confused of a piece to read!

feedbacks are always appreciated!

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You hated Remus Lupin.

He was your arch-nemesis, the one individual that kept you from becoming the best student in your year. The one that always managed to be awarded the most points for your house, except for a few occasions (which were quite scarce to be honest).

It seemed like he found some sort of enjoyment in seeing you strive for the professors’ attention. Needless to say, you did not enjoy any part of this academic rivalry.

The other Marauders were quite invested in the dynamics of the relationship between you and Remus. As a matter of fact, it looked like they came up with all sorts of plans in order to see the two of you together.

On one particular occasion, you and the other fifth-year students were attending potions class and experimenting on Amortentia and all its properties. Professor Slughorn was walking between the worktables and monitoring everyone's work.

Just as you were about to write down the correct dose of peppermint before adding it into the cauldron, Slughorn spoke.

"Can any one of you recall who was a pioneer in the creation of Love Potions?"

Your eyes widened. You knew the answer, and you didn't want Remus to take the glory and win the points for Gryffindor once more. You were determined to win.

"Yes, Mrs. Y/l/n?" professor Slughorn questioned, seeing your raised hand.

"I reckon it was Laverne de Montmorency, sir"

The older man nodded at your response before saying"It was her indeed. Very good Mrs. Y/l/n, five points to Gryffindor!".

You smiled widely and took the opportunity to turn around and see Remus' face. He was glaring at you, while Sirius and the other Marauders were teasing him.

"Got anything to say, Lupin?" you asked, to which he curtly responded with a "No".

The whole ordeal died out within a few minutes, and everyone went back to doing their assignment.

After some time Slughorn decided that it was time for his students to show the results of their work; therefore he called out a couple of names at a time so that they could be evaluated.

It didn't take very long for him to say your name which was followed by Remus', much to your dismay.

"It seems like there weren't any incidents in the preparation so there shouldn't be any problems with the potion. Mrs. Y/l/n, why don't you begin?"

You could not understand what he was talking about.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Tell us about the smell that comes from your cauldron."

You could feel everyone's eyes on you. Especially your best friend's, and the Marauders'.

Needless to say, as soon as your face was above the cauldron you hesitated to analyse the smell coming from it.

"What do you smell then, Mrs. Y/l/n?"

You cleared your throat and spoke up, even though you were too anxious to even utter a single word.

"Uhm, let's see — warm cashmere, cassis, parchment paper, ink, and— chocolate, I think"

As soon as you said that you noticed that the Marauders started whispering between each other. You couldn't see Remus' face since he was standing next to you, but from the way Sirius was giggling it seemed like he was shocked.

A strange thought came to your mind, but you quickly brushed it off. It couldn't be, right?

Slughorn's voice brought you back to reality.

"Very well. Now, Mr. Lupin, tell us what you smell"

It was obvious that Remus was as nervous as you were when he started describing the smell coming from his own cauldron. You did not dare turn to watch him directly since you couldn't stand embarrassing yourself more than you already did.

"It's a bit unclear but—" he stated "I smell a hint of roses, then... books, cedarwood, basil and thyme".

Your eyes widened once again. You always wore a rose perfume, and had developed the habit of lighting up a cedarwood, basil and thyme candle with your roommates in the Gryffindor common hall. Something which Remus always complained about whenever he and his friends walked into the aforementioned place.

You swore you could hear Sirius and James snorting for how much they were suppressing their laughter.

Professor Slughorn could clearly sense that the situation was somewhat getting out of hand, so he warned the boys about giving them detention and dismissed the class.

You were tempted to run away, but you had a couple of classes left so you pushed through and waited until they ended to finally get into your dormitory.

Thankfully, you hadn't seen the Marauders since the incident a few hours prior. However, the fact that you were with your best friend Lily Evans (who was James' girlfriend) implied that you were bound to meet them, eventually.

Unbeknownst to you, while the two of you were sat in your dormitory the Marauders were busy talking about the aforementioned "incident" during potions class.

"Admit it, you smelt her perfume!" Sirius exclaimed, to which Remus responded with a scoff.

"Don't you 'hmph' me, Moony! You like her and she likes you!"

"No, I must've interpreted the scents wrong... I despise her! She always tries to be better than me and steals the points that I should get for the house!" Remus remarked.

"Too bad we don't believe a word you're saying!" James stated "If you really despise Y/n, tell us why"

"Well, for starters, she always seems to know things better than I do. I feel like that annoying perfume of hers is always up my nose and she never seems out of place. And, and— she's... I just hate her guts!"

The Marauders stared at each other for a few seconds, then bursted out laughing.

Remus was so confused that Sirius had to explain to him that those were not valid reasons to hate someone, but rather he was just saying what he liked about her.

Moony kept denying his friends' accusations, but there was a part of him that couldn't help but think that maybe they were right. Just maybe.

Maybe he didn't really hate you. Maybe those very parts of you which he had insulted were the reasons why he liked you, and wanted to distance himself in fears of hurting you. He couldn't pinpoint the exact things he was feeling in that moment: it was like a flood was pervading his mind and heart.

"You really think that—" he muttered, to which the other Marauders responded saying "Yes! You must tell her, Moony. Right now!"

Even though a part of Remus kept telling him that things might have gone awfully wrong and that he wouldn't have been able to do it, he took courage and walked up the stairs and to your dormitory by himself.

Unbeknownst to him and his friends, you and Lily had been busy talking about the same thing: you and your feelings for Remus.

Your 'girls talk' was interrupted by a knock on your door.

"Who is it?"

"Y/n, it's Remus. I have come in peace"

You immediately stood up from your bed, and rushed to the door.

"Yes?" you opened the door, expecting to find all the boys behind him. It was rather surprising to see Remus by himself.

"I was wondering if we could talk. Just the two of us" he stated, to which you responded with a nod of your head.

You turned around to see Lily standing, with her thumbs up and a big smile on her face, which suggested that she was going and you were staying there.

As soon as she began walking down the stairs, you shut the door and invited Remus to sit down on your bed.

"There is not an easy way to say this. But I'm not going to beat around the bush" he said "I didn't think I would ever say these words, but... Recent events have led me to come to the conclusion that I like you"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I like you, Y/n. I am in love with you, and I hope that you reciprocate my feelings or else I've made a fool of myself"

You were looking at him like he was an alien. Did you or did you not understand the weight of his words?

"I'm sorry, what?" You asked once again.

"Oh for fuck's sake. I am in love with you, Y/n Y/l/N!"

With that, you started laughing.

"Why are you—"

"I heard you the first time. I just needed the information to sink in" you said, giggling "I like you too, Remus".

What a strange way to react to one confessing their feelings for you.

Remus smiled. He couldn't believe that it was all real. He had to protect this newfound tranquility, the beautiful yet unexpected source of his happiness, at all costs.

"I won't force my affection on you or anything. If you're comfortable doing so, I'd like to hold your hand"

"Of course you can"

And he did.

Remus slowly reduced the distance between the two of you, then timidly held out his hand which you took with the same bashfulness.

You loved Remus Lupin. You really did.

And you couldn't wait to live your future with him.

[sallary]

Day 3: Coffee 🍂

Ink belongs to Comyet

[futurecorps3]

imagine no war!!! remus after hogwarts decides to go to university, meets a muggle and falls head over heels but doesn't think he's good enough for her (w his condition on top of being a wizard and poor) but he brings her to meet the marauders anyway because they keep asking to meet the person he won't shut up about, maybe harry's birthday or just a pub outing or whatever??? he's nervous she'll fancy sirius but it's quite clear to everyone the second they meet that she clearly only has heart eyes for remus and the gang are like are you insane she's CLEARLY smitten with you and it literally takes everyone he knows to point it out for him to think he might even have a chance but is still floored when she's like "remus, i adore you, i've adored you from the moment we met" bc goddammit he deserves to be loved like that!!!

𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: The request sums it up, read it hoe Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader Warnings: Alcohol consumption and that's all I can think abt hehe Word Count: 4.5K (i'm sorry) Requested: Yes

A/N: I'm absolutely sobbing. This is so cute!!! I'm using the Reggie was a spy for the order wild card and roll with that. Tysm for this awesome idea, nonnie! And sorry it took so long.

Remus knew magic existed, the type of magic that opens doors, gives you luck or disarms someone. But until he met her, he didn't know there was a type of magic that could be contained in someone's eyes, someone's smile, or even in that little quirk she had of squinting every time she focused.

Y/N Y/L/N. Even her name felt like the sweetest honey when it rolled off your tongue and into the air, he figured. She was a new kind of magic and Remus was hooked from the get go. They had met on a rather peculiar set of circumstances. When Moony first got to college, he had no friends or anyone nearby to help him cope with the abrupt transition. The boys visited as much as they could, but it'd be for about an hour or two before they had to go back to the ministry.

So, as he did when he arrived at Hogwarts, Remus found solace in reading and taking his wolfsbane at appropriate times. He was doing a classics mayor and reading the Plato classics was a convenient way to kill time while doing something productive. The boy spent hours in the library, sitting on the couches or getting some annotations done on the desks; he'd be done with the school's classics collection before the semester was over if he kept that pace.

He would have if he hadn't found those notes. Remus first noticed them in a worn copy of a compilation from a specific period of Plato's scripts, the third page in Philebus. "Socrates is being very reductive. I don't like it. Out of character, I do declare" written in red ink, cursive letters delicate in the ripped white paper.

He giggled at that, his thoughts exactly. Moony picked the piece of paper and examined it to see if it had any indications of who might've written it, but he found nothing. He only knew that the person who wrote it had a ruined red pen; the stains of ink sitting messily on the opposite side of the annotation. Remus was a sucker for mystery stories and he viewed this as an opportunity of having one of his own!

A short-lived one, since he cracked the case when a pretty girl on his history of philosophy class asked around for a red pen. Remus frantically but quietly rummaged through his satchel and found one just in time.

He rushed to her, offering it out “Here” he smiled, looking down at her as she looked up at him. “Thanks… Remus isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. Y/N Y/L/N”. Y/N introduced herself, offering her hand out. Stained in red. The boy stared shocked at the realization this was the person he’d been looking for.

“Oh shit m’sorry, it looks like I committed a murder or something. My pen started leaking yesterday while I was studying in the library” She laughed and Remus swore he’d faint if he hadn’t gripped her hand. “Actually…” Remus started, searching in his pocket for the piece of paper he kept, when he finally found it, he showed it to her and a smile broke on those pretty lips.

“…I hope you don’t mind! I-I kept it. Been looking for you, it made me laugh” He admitted, handing it to her “You found me then! And, you’re very much welcome to keep it, Remus” Y/N grinned and Remus mirrored her expression sweetly. They met for coffee the next day. The day after that, they studied together. And the week after, they shared lunch.

About two months after they talked for the first time, they had gone on a date every single week. From museum outings to walks around campus if one of them didn't have much time. They also sat together in philosophy and, turns out, literature (which they realized they shared after).

Y/N gifted him a cool rock once, and he kissed her.

He kept the rock in his pocket ever since.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Come on, mate, you gotta tell us who she is!" James exclaimed, his excitement palpable as he repeatedly patted the worn wooden bar in the cozy pub they had agreed to meet at. Remus chuckled and shook his head, a fond smile dancing on his lips as he took another sip of his whiskey.

"You've been talking non-stop about her since you two met! The last three times we've seen each other, it's been Y/N this, Y/N that. We've gotta meet the missus," Sirius playfully teased, giving Remus a light shove with his shoulder.

Rolling his eyes playfully, Remus glanced at his friends, grateful for their persistent curiosity but also hesitant to share too much. "Oh, Pads, don't call her that! We're not even official yet, and I doubt we'll ever be. She'll find someone, alright, but I'm just good old Remus," he replied, a hint of wistfulness shadowing his gaze.

It was true; good old Remus had learned how to stop caring about what other people thought of him, but that didn't mean he was entirely confident about who he was.

Navigating the Muggle world presented its own set of challenges for Remus. He knew that at some point, he would have to confront the whole "Hey, I'm a wizard, and there's this whole other world you don't know about, hope you don't mind!" situation with Y/N.

Then there were the lingering money issues that weighed on his mind. College was not cheap, but he had managed to secure a decent scholarship, which alleviated some of the burden. He hoped Y/N wouldn't care about his financial situation. And, of course, there was the delicate matter of revealing his true nature as a literal werewolf. How would she react when she found out?

Yeah.

He was good old Remus: poor Remus, monster Remus, scarred Remus, wizard Remus. If he were honest with himself, he was surprised they had made it past the first day, considering he had stupidly worn a short-sleeved t-shirt without anything to conceal the telltale signs of his condition.

But she noticed the perceptive and kind-hearted soul that she was, and she chose not to mention it. In that moment, Remus couldn't help but imagine the possibilities, but he also knew that reality had a way of reminding him of his limitations. Moony knew he would never be able to claim her as his own. Not in this lifetime, not in the next.

For now, he chose to cherish the moments they shared, basking in her laughter and marveling at the way her hair defied gravity with its radiant beauty. She was his bit of magic in a world that often seemed devoid of it. Deep down, however, he couldn't shake the nagging certainty that good things didn't last for boys like him—boys with tragedy coursing through their veins.

"Yeah, no. We're not doing this shit again," Sirius declared, shaking his head in disagreement. Remus's best friends had grown accustomed to his self-deprecating tendencies and were determined to lift his spirits. Remus might have been a mysterious figure to some, but to the Marauders, he was an open book, their brother.

"That's why she likes you, mate. You're good old amazing, lovely, smart, hot Remus!" James proclaimed with a boisterous cheer, pulling Remus into a tight embrace. "Tell you what, bring her to Harry's birthday party this weekend! I'm sure Lily won't mind," he suggested, his mischievous grin widening. Sirius enthusiastically chimed in, nodding in agreement. "Just ask her first and let me know, okay? I don't want Harry to have a bad time becaus-"

"Oh, Moons, the party is more for us than for him! He'll be out like a light by eight, and we'll get wasted like we always do," Prongs interjected, his infectious laughter filling the air, causing Remus to join in, his worries momentarily forgotten in the camaraderie of his friends.

There was no way out of this one, not that he sought an escape. Remus couldn't blame his best friends for their eagerness to meet Y/N. They knew him better than anyone, and they could see the spark of happiness she had ignited within him. Moony did little to hide his excitement, his heart fluttering with the hope that maybe, just maybe, things would work out.

Now, he just needed Lily's approval so he could gather the courage to ask the girl who had captivated his heart to accompany him to the birthday celebration—a step that held the promise of a new chapter in his life, one filled with both joy and uncertainty

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Remus nervously fiddled with the corner of his book, stealing glances at Y/N across the library. The soft rays of afternoon sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a warm, golden glow on the rows of ancient tomes and the elegant wooden shelves that lined the room. But in that moment, all Remus could see was Y/N, a radiant presence amidst the tranquil surroundings.

Summoning his courage, Remus took a deep breath and approached her table. The scent of old parchment mingled with the delicate fragrance of her perfume, creating an intoxicating blend that filled his senses. As he neared, he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes sparkled with intelligence and curiosity as she immersed herself in the world of words. Her hair cascaded down in gentle waves, its hue reminiscent of auburn leaves in autumn, and he found himself captivated by the way it framed her face, enhancing her natural beauty.

"Hey, love," Remus greeted her with a warm smile, trying his best to appear at ease. "Mind if I join you for a moment?"

Y/N looked up, a surprised yet welcoming expression crossing her features. Her eyes met Remus's, and a playful glimmer danced within their depths. She gestured to the seat across from her, her voice laced with gentle humor. "Well, if you insist. But only if you promise not to distract me from my riveting studies."

Remus chuckled, grateful for her light-hearted response. He took the offered seat, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I'll do my best to behave, I promise," he replied, a twinkle in his own eyes. "But I do have something on my mind that I wanted to ask you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. Her curiosity piqued. "Oh, really? Well, go on then. I'm all ears."

"There's a little someone's birthday coming up this weekend," Remus began, his voice filled with playful anticipation. "Harry, James' adorable son, is turning two years old. And, well, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me to the party."

Y/N's face lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight, her smile contagious. "Are you asking me to crash a toddler's birthday party? That sounds like a dangerous proposition," she teased, her tone lighthearted.

Remus laughed, his nerves easing with every moment of their easy banter. "Well, I can promise you that the party will be more entertaining than dangerous," he quipped, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "There'll be cake, balloons, and probably a fair amount of chaos. It's a chance to embrace your inner child if you want to look at it that way."

Y/N pretended to consider it, her finger tapping against her chin. "Hmm, cake, balloons, and chaos? You make a compelling case," she replied, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "How can I resist? Count me in, darling. I'd love to celebrate with you and your mates."

Remus couldn't contain his happiness, his relief flooding through him like a warm wave. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed, a genuine excitement coloring his voice. "I can't wait for you to meet everyone, t-they insisted I brought the girl I don't shut up about to the party"

Y/N smiled at that, holding Remus's hand over the table. "So you've talked to your friends about me?" "Oh shut it" He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Right before those grey clouds of self deprecation repeating "this won't last" and "enjoy it before she realizes what you truly are" clouded his mind.

He shoved the thoughts away, holding to Y/N's smile against his lips as if it was an anchor saving him from drowning.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.

He really did try to plan it all neatly. From what he'd wear to how he'd introduced her to his friends. Remus even asked them to keep the magic discreet since it was all too soon for that conversation, but for fuck's sake; it all got thrown out the window when he saw her in low waisted flared pants and his Bowie shirt. "H-hey!" He smiled, almost yelling, but she just laughed at his enthusiasm.

"Hi Rem," she sighed, leaving a kiss on the corner of his lips which she left lingering a bit too long. "Ready?" "As I'll ever be!". As Y/N and Remus walked hand in hand, the excitement in the air was palpable. However, beneath her playful demeanor, Y/N couldn't shake the nerves that fluttered in her stomach. Meeting Remus's best friends felt like stepping into a new world, and the fear of not fitting in or being accepted gnawed at her.

She stole a quick glance at Remus, hoping he wouldn't notice the physical manifestations of her anxiety. The last thing she wanted was to burden him with her own inner turmoil. But even as she tried to compose herself, her voice wavered slightly as she spoke.

"Remus, I can't deny that I'm feeling a bit... off," she admitted, her words stumbling over her nervousness. "My heart feels like it's racing a marathon, and there's this knot in my stomach that just won't loosen. I hope it's not too obvious." Remus turned his head towards her, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. His eyes sparkled with warmth and understanding.

"Hey, I get it," he said, his tone comforting. "Meeting new people can be nerve-wracking, and our bodies have interesting ways of letting us know. But you know what? You're doing great, sweetheart, and I'm here with you. We'll take it one step at a time, and I promise we'll have a good time together. So, let's embrace the adventure, nerves and all, and see what the night has in store for us, okay?"

Y/N nodded thankfully, the knot loosening up a little. “Thanks baby”. The world stopped in Remus’ perspective at the pet name but he just nodded and kissed her cheek. He helped. He was a warm blanket after a long day even when moments like those weren’t happening. Comfort.

They eventually got to James’ place; the loud music coming from the two floor house making Y/N feel even more at ease. It radiated a warm, welcoming energy even before stepping in. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Deep breath”. They both took a breath before approaching the door and knocking, the wine Remus’ plus one brought close to breaking with the force she was holding it with. A bright smile opened the door, hugging Remus immediately. “You have no idea how happy I am you’re here Moony”.

Y/N smiled sweetly at the nickname the boy had for his best mate. She didn’t know where it came from but James seemed to be the sun reflecting on the moon. On Moony. The girl knew Remus’ light was enough to outshine the sun itself, but the comparison seemed cute.

“You must be Y/N! He can’t shut up about you. Can I hug you? It’s okay if not, Sirius says I need to ask before hugging people but I just love it so much I cannot help myself” He rambled, making her giggle as she uttered a small ‘It’s okay’ and hugged the boy. She noticed Remus staring and just winked at him. “Is that cake I smell?” Y/N grinned, peeking inside before James stepped aside to let them both in.

“Yes, come inside! My wife, Lily, has just finished baking her chocolate cake recipe. It’s bloody brilliant! Harry’s favorite in his short lived culinary experience. You gotta meet him too!” Moony stayed behind, cherishing the way James’ warm welcome made Y/N feel a little more comfortable; her shoulders relaxed as well as her grip on the wine bottle.

He stepped in, hanging his coat on the rack he helped Lily choose when his best friends bought the house. Rapid steps came running down the stairs, and before he turned around, the smell of cigarettes and leather filled his nostrils. “Hello Pads” he smirked, hugging his friend tightly.

“Hey Moons! Did the missus come?” “Yes, she’s outside with James and Lily-“. He was cut short when his best friend, (his eyeliner wearing, muscled, rocker, tattooed, charming best friend) ran all the way into the garden to greet the girl. He was head over heels over.

A new feeling settled into his chest. An unpleasant one. Sirius was a dream. Remus was just good old Remus. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! He sighed heavily, ran a hand through his hair, and then covered his mouth. Y/N was not one to be too forward, but the way Sirius looked and acted could easily make her reconsider.

It got worse when he heard her loud laugh coming from the garden, followed by a chuckle that unmistakably came from Sirius. His best friend would never do it on purpose, but then again, his charm was never used on purpose. It just sort of happened. Remus sighed and walked outside to find the girl saying hi to Harry.

The toddler had his tiny hand wrapped around the girl's fingers, babbling incoherencies, as Y/N had a full conversation with him. "Are you sure?" she asked and Harry answered nonsense as the girl nodded back. She looked up at Remus coming through the sliding door. "Remus, he's the cutest thing I've ever seen!".

He laughed and walked over to her. The girl immediately wrapped her hands around his arm and hugged him tightly. James winked at Moony and went inside as the conversation ensued, Sirius teasing Remus about the girl he "brought home".

Soon, Y/N was well adapted to their friend's sense of humour and was joking around with Lily about how dumb they could all be. Despite Y/N's worries, it all went by smoothly. The one he got along with the most was James; he loved asking questions, and she loved answering them.

Remus had always loved her laugh; Seeing his best friends being the cause of it made it even better. "I'm telling you, he's insane!" Sirius laughed, bouncing his leg up and down as Harry sat on his lap giggling. "He's an absolute sweetheart" Y/N answered, kissing Remus' cheek as his best friends tried putting dirt (rightfully deserved dirt) on his name.

"Wait until you know him just a tiny bit better. You'll get to see his menacing self... got us in a shit ton of trouble back in school" James chuckled, making Remus roll his eyes and trying to divert her attention by asking if she wanted a bit more cake.

During their evening, Y/N kept a tight grasp on Remus’ hand while smiling at his friend’s jokes. When it was his turn to laugh, Sirius noticed how the girl looked intently over at Remus with a grin on her face. His eyes looked gorgeous in the sun with those little wrinkles when he giggled, she thought.

In that moment, she realized she wanted Remus to say her name as you’re supposed to say it; sleepily, with a mouth full of food, between laughters and in tears. Y/N saw the specks of brown in the amber colored lake that his eyes were and fell completely. Sirius saw it, James saw it, Lily saw it.

Even more when he turned to look down at her and wipe a bit of chocolate off her cheek, and she kept that look of utter adoration for him. “He’s gone” Lily mumbled to her husband. “She’s too” he agreed. Sirius smirked, getting up to get Harry to bed as he fell asleep on his uncle’s arms as the sun set.

James and Sirius were at the center of attention, regaling the group with a hilarious story from their time at school. Their voices were animated, and they gesticulated with enthusiasm, drawing everyone into their tale. Remus stood nearby, a mix of amusement and mild embarrassment evident on his face.

"And then, there was this one time at Hogwarts," James began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "when we decided to prank the entire Slytherin common room! We turned all their robes into neon pink ones!"

Sirius chimed in, laughter bubbling in his voice. "Oh, it was epic! They all looked like walking flamingos! The look on their faces was priceless!"

Y/N was thoroughly entertained by the story, but she couldn't help but notice Remus's subtle blush. She leaned closer to him and whispered teasingly, "Remus, were you part of this grand pink robe conspiracy too?"

Remus grinned, shaking his head. "I plead the fifth," he replied, trying to hide his amusement. "Let's just say those were wild times, and I may or may not have been an innocent bystander."

Y/N laughed, enjoying the playful banter. She was captivated by the camaraderie and genuine friendship between the group. As the evening continued, she found herself drawn into more anecdotes and laughter, feeling a sense of warmth and acceptance in their company.

Remus's friends made her feel welcome and included, and she couldn't help but feel grateful for being a part of this close-knit circle, even if she didn't know the full extent of their world. The nerves that had accompanied her earlier had transformed into excitement and a genuine desire to create new memories with Remus and his friends.

The feeling was reciprocated. Remus felt, and not on mere theory; the moment Y/N excused herself to go to the bathroom, his best friends started gushing to him about the girl. "Moony, she's in love" Sirius said between incredulous and joyous laugh "Oh Pad-" "Mate, I'm telling you... she looks at you like you hung the bloody stars!" now said James, Lily nodding pridefully "She looks at you just how James looked at me back in the day".

And Merlin did he want to believe them! He truly, really did. But instead, there was this empty feeling on his chest. There was no way Y/N Y/L/N looked at him in the way James looked at Lily; Almost scared of the joy she brought to him, like that pain in his heart would end up killing him and he'd quite literally die a happy man. So, when Remus dropped her off at her flat and turned his head before she'd kiss him on the mouth, the void went deeper.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Y/N couldn't sleep that night. Her mind was restless, thoughts of Remus swirling in her head like a tempest. She tossed and turned, replaying the events of the evening over and over again, each memory etching itself into her heart. There was no denying it anymore; she was utterly and completely in love with him.

The realization hit her like a wave crashing onto the shore, powerful and unstoppable; she was head over heels for Remus Lupin.

The next day, Y/N couldn't concentrate on anything. Her mind kept drifting back to Remus, like she'd could easily find herself absentmindedly doodling hearts and his name on the margins of her notebook. She needed to tell him; she couldn't keep this to herself any longer.

In the late afternoon, she gathered her courage and dialed his number, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for him to pick up. When he finally answered, his warm voice on the other end sent shivers down her spine.

"Hey, Remus," she began, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil inside her. "I was wondering if we could meet up later? There's something I want to talk to you about." Remus's response was filled with concern. "Of course, love. Is everything alright?" "Yes, everything's fine," she reassured him. "I just... I have something to tell you, something important."

He agreed to meet at their favorite cafe later that evening, and Y/N's heart fluttered with nervous excitement. The minutes leading up to their meeting felt like an eternity, but finally, the time came. When they sat down together, Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. Remus looked at her with those caring, gentle eyes, and she felt a rush of emotions wash over her.

"Remus," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't even know where to start. Y-you've brought so much magic into my life. From the moment we met, I felt something special, something I couldn't quite put into words."

He listened intently, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I've never felt this way before," she continued, her cheeks flushing with emotion. "You're like a beautiful enigma, a captivating mystery that I can't get enough of. You make me laugh, you make me feel safe and cherished, and every moment with you is a treasure. You've shown me a kind of magic that I never knew existed, a magic that exists in the little things, the stolen glances, the shared laughter, and the way you hold my hand. It's like you've cast a spell on me, and I never want it to end."

Remus's eyes softened, and a tender smile graced his lips. "Y/N, you're the most incredible person I've ever met," he replied, his voice filled with emotion. "From the moment I saw your ink-stained hands, I knew you were something special. You've brought light into my life, and I can't believe that someone as amazing as you could feel this way about me."

He reached across the table and took her hand in his, their fingers interlocking like two puzzle pieces, finding their perfect fit.

"I'm not good with grand gestures or flowery words," he said, his voice a whisper. "But I can tell you this: I care about you deeply, more than I ever thought possible. You make me happy like I never imagined I'd could feel. I've fallen in love with you, Y/N, and I can't believe my luck."

Y/N's heart soared, tiny tears of joy welling up in her eyes. "Oh, Remus," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so in love with you too. You've shown me a kind of love I never knew existed, a love that feels like coming home. I cherish every moment with you, and I want to share my time with you, if you'll have me."

Without hesitation, Remus leaned across the table, closing the distance between them, and pressed a soft, tender kiss to her lips. It was a kiss filled with love and promise, sealing their feelings and intentions.

"I'd be honored to have you in my life, Y/N," he whispered against her lips. "You're my bit of magic in a world that can be harsh and uncertain, and I never want to let you go."

And so, in that cozy cafe, two souls found solace in each other's love. The world around them faded into the background as they basked in the enchantment of their newfound love, knowing that this kind of magic was unlike any other they had ever known. They had found something truly extraordinary in each other, a love that would stand the test of time and shine brighter than any star in the night sky.

˚ · • . ° .

It’s currently 12am and my brain isn’t working so i’ll just post this and place the word count in the morning.

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[riddlessecretss]

My dorm room dalliance - Part two (enemies x lovers)

Based on this photo^^ (aftecare)

“Fuck baby you did so well”

You smile from Mattheo’s praise, you’ve never felt so normal after sex. You get up to set yourself a shower. “Mattheo” “Yes?”

“Stop staring at my ass.” You hear him groan and light a cigarette. You roll your eyes, when is he going to stop with that?

You set a temperature and step in. You start washing your hair when it gets quiet, too quiet. “Mattheo?”…

“MATTHEO?”

You think to yourself that he probably just left. You carry on brushing through your hair and humming to yourself. Having a dorm all for yourself is great!

You finish in the shower and walk out to feel a breeze seep through the balcony door. You grab your wand and walk over to be not so graciously greeted with Mattheo smoking with his headphones on.

You snatch them and place them on your head to be met with Don’t by Bryson Tiller. Not bad Riddle. “You’ve been here this while time?”

“Well where else would be on a friday night if there’s not a common room party?” He scoffs as you give him his headphones and walk back into the room to get changed when Mattheo follows you back in.

“Are you staying here tonight?”

“NO.” He shot back.

“What do you think i am, homeless?”

“No I just thought youd want some nice company since you also have a dorm to yourself.” -Silence- “Aww y/l/n you get lonely?” He teases.

“Shut up Riddle.” You button up your pyjama shirt.

“Ill stay, but only because i’m tired.”

You let out giggle and settle in bed. Mattheo gets in after you and cuddles into your waist.

”It does get pretty lonely by yourself, you know?” He looks into your eyes, hoping for a sense of peace. “I know how you feel, i have to occupy my silence with reading, although it gets quite boring at times.”

“Hm my occupation is all this.” Mattheo holds up a book which at first looks like just doodles but holds some of his heartfelt feelings.

Turns out we are more alike then we thought.”This feels normal. Mattheo do you feel this as well.” You felt your heart skip a beat as Matheo answers with a simple yes. He holds you tighter as you two fall asleep together.

————————————————————————————————————————

~At around 3AM~

You wake up with a headache and as soon as you get up you instantly know why.

“Do you have to smoke that shit in here?”

“Someone’s cranky.”

“I’m not I just have a headache.”

“Here.” He hands you a box of a strange looking pill. “And what is this?” “A pain relieving pill.”

You take it without question and look over Mattheo at an empty can, a lighter and an ashtray. Where did that come from? But out of everything, even the spliff in his hand, you notice his notebook on his chest open on a specific page.

“What did you write?”

“What?”

“In your book. Can I see?”

“No.” He turns a cold shoulder and puts his cigarette out and his book in his bag. I mean i am curious but a no is a no.

You turn away too and try to get some sleep.

————————————————————————————————————————

~At 7:30AM~

You wake up and notice Mattheo gone. It doesn’t surprise you at this point. But what surprises you is to see his book open on the same page it was last night with a note that read:

Since i can’t let you read it when im there…

You laugh to yourself and you pick up the book to see:

I can’t possibly contain my feelings for her trapped in a box in a corner of my heart, she deserves more. Even the way she sleeps, she looks mythical. She needs to be mine…

… Decorated in blue ink doodles confessing his love for me.

“Oh Mattheo if only you knew how i really feel about you…”

Im so so so sorry i didnt post this yesterday, I suddenly got so ill and tired and fell asleep early. I hope this makes up for it. And thank you guys so much for all the likes on the Slytherin boys react: aftercare post. This is part two so I recommend to read part one first which can be found here. I dont know if there will be a part 3 tell me if you guys want one. Navaiah 💘

[7s3ven]

OBSESSION. tom riddle x fem! reader.

( master list )

IN WHICH… Tom Riddle is partnered with a Gryffindor for potions. He expects them to crush every assignment sent their way, but what he doesn’t expect is him falling in love.

Words: Too many

Warning/s: Not proof-read, Grammar mistakes

A/N: I disappeared for a while, but I’m back now, lol. With Harry Potter oneshots. I have so many in my drafts that I hope to publish soon.

—

“These are your potion partners. You will work with them for the rest of the year. And no, you cannot change.”

Half of the class erupted into groans but Slughorn ignored them. Slytherins and Gryffindors were paired together, one boy and one girl.

Slughorn had purposely paired up Tom Riddle, the cold Slytherin heartthrob, and Y/N L/N, the intelligent Gryffindor beauty, together. He saw their potential together considering both students were academic geniuses.

“A Skele Gro potion? Seriously?” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. It was one of the easiest potions to make and this was an advanced class.

“Slughorn probably gave the class an easy potion since he partnered us up with people we basically hate.” Tom retorted, staring at the old potions book.

“You hate me?”

“You are a Gryffindor, after all.”

“How original.”

For the remainder of the class, the two were quiet. There were a few words exchanged but not many.

“Pass the scarab beetle.”

“Give me the puffer fish.”

As Tom was busy mixing the potion, Y/N took this as her chance to glance at him. She couldn’t deny that he was attractive with his curled brown hair and high cheekbones.

She soon went back to scribbling a few notes in her textbook, the black ink staining the side of her hand (something she didn’t notice). She wiped the side of her cheek, unknowingly smearing the ink onto her face.

Tom gaze wandered from the simple potion to Y/N, who was leaning over the desk, quill in hand. He looked at the ink on her face, almost smiling in amusement.

“L/N,” He uttered. She turned her head to look at him in confusion, wondering why he had mumbled her name. “You have something on your face.”

She reached up a hand, touching the wrong side of her face.

“Other side- You know what, never mind.” Tom licked his lips and shook his head. He beckoned Y/N forward and with a pinch of hesitation, she stood up.

Tom pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped her cheek, strangely fascinated by the way the ink didn’t stain her face as it did with her hand.

She stared into his dark brown eyes, leaving Tom stunned. Most students, even the girls obsessed with him, were always scared of Tom. But Y/N purely gazed at him, unfazed.

“Thank you.” She slowly said, her lips curving into a small smile.

Tom was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded. “No problem.”

The pair went silent again and when class was dismissed, Y/N shoved all of her things into her bag and fled the room.

Tom took his time in packing up. He picked up a thick leather journal that he didn’t remember owning and when he flipped thorough the messy pages, he realized it wasn’t his.

Every page of Y/N’s book was different. Some notes were messy while others were unbelievably neat.

Tom gently put the book in his bag and hurried out of the classroom to see if he could find Y/N. But she had moved too fast and was nowhere to be seen.

“Tom, why do you look so worried?” Avery came up behind the brunette prefect, slinging a pale arm around Tom’s shoulder.

“Y/N L/N, what do you know about her?” Tom asked.

“What? The Gryffindor girl with the fan club?”

Y/N was, to put it lightly, popular with the Hogwarts students. Not just the boys, in fact. Girls liked her too, both platonically and romantically. Hence her little fan club.

“Yes. What do you know about her?”

“Not a lot. She’s a Gryffindor, obviously. Comes from a wealthy Mudblood”- Avery froze as soon as Tom sent him a stern glare. “Muggle family.” He quickly corrected himself. “She’s smart, pretty, and people like her. She’s, uh, popular and acts as a stand-in for the Quidditch team because, despite liking the sport, she doesn't have enough time to play it regularly."

"Find out anything else about Y/N. And figure out her preferable type when it comes to romantic partners." Tom said, waving Avery off. The blond left, leaving Tom alone to tend to his thoughts.

The sound of heels clicking against the stoned floor filled the silent hallway and a shoulder banged into Tom's.

"Ah! Sorry!" Y/N called out, not realizing who it was.

Tom quickly reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. With a loud gasp of surprise, Y/N harshly crashed into his chest, almost knocking the air out of Tom's lungs.

Tom paused, inhaling the sweet scent of Y/N's floral perfume. "You left your notebook in the classroom. Here." The brunette boy handed Y/N her leather book, their fingers brushing against each other. She gripped her notes tightly, almost as if she was afraid of losing them again.

"Thank you." She muttered, her knuckles turning white. She looked like she wanted to say more but she didn't. She only nodded and ran off.

Tom let out a loud sigh, the brief feeling of Y/N's skin against his imprinted in his mind.

—

"My lord," Avery strode up to Tom, a few pages in his hands. "I, uh, made a list about... you know." He whispered the last part and handed Tom the list.

"Thank you. You may go." Tom looked around to see if anybody was paying attention to him before he flipped through Avery's messy handwriting.

Y/N L/N, muggle-born. Gryffindor. Enjoys studying in the library with her friends and loves (your favourite drink). Her best subject is defence against the dark arts and potions.

Her ideal type wasn't easy to figure out, but I managed to question a lot of her friends without raising suspicion. Her ideal type is people taller than her, and she really seems to like scholars over sporty people. Honestly, there's a lot of grey area so her type could be anyone.

Tom folded the notes and shoved them into his pocket. He cleared his throat, nodding in satisfaction. His first class of the day was potions, and he felt a weird feeling in his chest. It was almost like it… jumped.

Tom could feel his pulse speed up as he got closer to the potions classroom and he momentarily paused to feel it. “Strange.” He muttered under his breath. He must be sick because this had never happened.

Nevertheless, he continued on his way. He was early but there were already a few students inside, one being Y/N. She was sitting at her and Tom’s desk but was speaking to a Gryffindor behind her.

They immediately went silent, though, when Tom approached them. Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line as the awkward silence settled over the room.

Tom cracked open his potions book, his eyes scanning over random words. He could feel Y/N staring at him and when he glanced at her, she hurriedly looked away, her cheeks flushing red.

Tom held back a snicker. “Are you excited for the Yule ball?” Tom unexpectedly asked. He wasn’t one to be phased by silence, but Y/N looked uncomfortable by it.

“Pardon me?”

“The Yule ball. Are you excited? Surely you must be.”

“Oh, um, yes. What about you?”

“I’d rather skip it. But being a prefect, I have to be there.” Tom didn’t care for social events. He hated most of them and found them rather pointless. He had never liked the Yule ball in the first place.

“Have you got a date?” Y/N questioned, fiddling with her quill.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious. How is it that someone like you doesn’t have a date? Girls are crazy for you.” Y/N turned her head to look at Tom, which was probably the first time she had done so since he caught her staring.

“I’m not interested in them. They aren’t what I’m looking for.”

“Well, you have plenty time to find a date, if you want one.”

Tom silently nodded, opening his mouth and then closing it. “You’re on the Yule ball committee, are you not?” He asked after a hint of hesitation.

“I am. I’ve been so busy planning it that I haven’t thought about the event itself. I don’t even know what colour my dress will be.”

“(Favorite colour.” Tom immediately replied, taking Y/N by surprise. “(Favorite colour) would suit you.”

Y/N briefly smiled. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

—

As the days passed by, Y/N haunted Tom’s mind like a ghost haunting a dark house. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, no matter what he tried. He had even gone as far as making out with a fellow Slytherin to try and erase Y/N from his mind.

But all he could do was imagine it was Y/N who was desperately kissing him, smearing lipstick marks all over his white collar and drowning him in her sweet perfume.

Tom had gotten little to no sleep for the past week, a certain Gryffindor etched into his brain. The dark circles under his eyes had grown, a sign that he hadn’t been resting well.

“Riddle, are you okay?” Y/N’s voice snapped the brunette Slytherin back to reality. He realised that his head was leaning against his desk and his neck ached. He sat up, looking around the empty classroom. “You, uh, fell asleep.” Y/N explained, “Slughorn let you sleep since you seemed so tired.”

“Ah.” Tom thickly swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Thank you.” He waved his hand, trying to dismiss Y/N like he would dismiss Avery but she didn’t leave.

“Are you sure? Slughorn told me to tell you that if you ever need more sleep, you can ask him for a potion.”

Tom stood up, a little wobbly. He picked up his stuff and placed a heavy hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m fine.” He repeated. His hand lingered for a moment too long on Y/N before he lifted it and walked off, slightly unstable.

Y/N watched him leave, her lips parted and her eyebrows furrowed with concern. She recalled how peaceful Tom looked in his sleep, the completely opposite of what he looked like right now. He looked so… rough.

Y/N could faintly remember the feeling of Tom’s hand on her shoulder and she began to wonder how his cold hands would feel on her waist. Shocked by her own thoughts, Y/N violently shook her head.

Tom was attractive but he didn’t like anyone. Not romantically and not platonically. And Y/N would be the last person he’d date, with her being both a Gryffindor and Muggleborn.

Just as Y/N was about to leave, she spotted a slip of paper on Tom’s desk. Curiosity got the best of her and she hurriedly opened it. The paper looked like it had been quickly torn out of a notebook.

Light of my life. Fire of my loins. I can’t get her out of my head, just like how Humbert couldn’t stop thinking about Dolores. Perhaps Lolita is not the best reference to make buy nevertheless. This is not supposed to be happening, not now and not ever. I cannot love and yet here I am, undoubtedly and inexplicably in love with her.

It was Tom’s handwriting, Y/N was sure of it. She felt confused when her heart sank after reading the contents and not seeing her name. She had been thinking about Tom Riddle ever since they got paired up and she was starting to wonder the same question her friends were asking: Did Y/N L/N fancy Tom Riddle?

—

Potions couldn’t come fast enough. Tom and Y/N were the first ones to enter the room. They seemed to have the same idea and try to be as early as possible to get a glimpse of their potions partner before class started.

“What’s the theme for the Yule ball?” Tom inquired.

“It’s the same as it always is.” Y/N replied, “Snow.”

“How original.”

“I wish they’d spice it up a little. But the ball committee isn’t on charge of the them, just the planning and decorating.”

“Still no date?”

“I’ve had a few offers but… not my type. You?”

“No.”

“At this rate, it seems like you’ll never get a date.” Y/N joked but her smile faded when she saw Tom’s unamused face. “Say,” She said, suddenly remembering what she had found a few days ago, “Do you like anyone?”

“It’s impossible for me to like someone.”

“I know… but if you could, who would you like?” Y/N stared at Tom, anxiously awaiting his answer.

He took his sweet time in thinking. So long that Y/N was sure he wasn’t even going to give her a proper answer.

“It’s hard to say who when I don’t feel anything.” Tom lied through his teeth. The girl he was interested in was right in front of him.

“I see. No pressure to answer then.”

“But if I had to describe someone I’d like, if I could feel anything, I’d want her to be kind and caring. The opposite of me to balance it out.”

Y/N could feel anxiety course through her veins as she parted her lips to make a reference she probably shouldn’t have. “Would she be the light of your life and the fire of your loins?”

Tom tried to hide his small amount of panic with a chuckle. “A strange reference, huh? Why Lolita?”

“I just think it’s strange how some people can’t stop thinking about their crushes… like how Humbert was always thinking of Lolita.” Y/N watched Tom’s face for any form of reaction, but he had none.

“How did you find it?” Tom quickly questioned, turning on his wooden chair. “The letter? How did you find it?”

“You left it on your desk. Just tell me who the girl is, I want to know. I’ll even help you ask her out.”

“I do not need your help.” Tom seethed, “And do not mention a word of this to anyone else. We will discuss this after class.”

Perhaps Y/N should have kept her mouth shut. If she did, she wouldn’t have found herself locked in a dingy old basement with Tom Riddle.

I’m going to die, she thought to herself.

“Riddle, I promise I will not mention this to anybody. I swear! You don’t have to kill me! I won’t say anything!”

“I’m not going to kill you, L/N. What do you take me for? A savage?”

Y/N wanted to mention the time where Tom had beaten up a Hufflepuff for accidentally taking his book, but she forced herself not to say anything.

“You want to know who the girl is?” Tom asked. Y/N silently nodded. She subconsciously stepped back as he slowly walked towards her. This pattern continued until Y/N’s back hit a stone wall and she stiffened.

Tom was standing right in front of her, looming over her with that stern stare he always had.

“The girl that I am so infatuated with, to put it lightly, is you.”

Y/N blinked once, and then twice. Then she burst into laughter. “Are you messing with me, Riddle? Is this a joke? Come on, be serious.”

“I’m not the one who should be serious here.” Tom responded, reaching out a hand to tuck a piece of Y/N’s hair away.

“Wait, so you’re not joking?” Y/N asked, raising her eyebrows. She couldn’t ignore the little jump her heart did.

“If I was joking, I wouldn’t be willing to do this.” Tom had to lean down to press his lips against Y/N’s. She jumped and, on instinct, pulled away and slapped Tom.

She froze, her mind processing what she had just done. Then she panicked. "My gosh, Riddle, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to slap you! Are you... okay?" That was a stupid question to ask, considering how red Tom's cheek was right now.

"Fine." He answered even though his face was stinging.

"I didn't mean to slap you. You just caught me by surprise. Sorry... again." Y/N cringed, staring at Tom's reddening cheek. "Say... do you happen to know what loins actually means, Riddle?”

“No. I only used it as a pitiful reference.”

“It's your, uh..." Y/N paused, "Humbert was basically saying that Dolores got him... aroused.” Y/N had expected him to know what it meant, Tom being an academic and all.

“Oh… well, I can assure you that I am not a pedo and nothing like Humbert.” Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am sorry I kissed you without warning. You are free to go. Just… not a word.”

Tom turned around and even though Y/N wanted to call out his name, she simply stared at him before nodding and walking off.

Tom, who was hoping Y/N would stay, pressed his lips into a thin line. He thickly swallowed, waiting a few minutes to see if Y/N would return. When she didn’t, he could only nod in acceptance.

Love was never meant for some people, and perhaps Tom was in that category.

—

Y/N sat in her dorm room, sitting on the edge of her bed. She clasped her hands together, deep in thought.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Liza, a fellow Gryffindor, bounced up to Y/N. She was one of her dorm mates, and a close friend.

“Are you sure you want to hear it?” Y/N quietly muttered, sheepishly smiling.

“Shoot. I have nothing better to do.”

“Riddle, uh… he…” Y/N struggled to finish her sentence. She could still feel his lips against her’s and for some reason… she liked it.

“What did he do? Did he- No. I knew he was rotten apple! That is unacceptable!” Liza assumed the worst.

“No! No! He didn’t. He… kissed me.”

Liza’s eyebrows rose in shock. She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Riddle… kissed you? Like… actually kissed you? No offence. He just doesn’t seem like the type… to be interested in relationships.” Liza’s gaze fell upon Y/N’s solemn face. “But, uh, how are you feeling? That’s the most important thing.”

“That’s the problem… I’m not too sure. I… liked it? But, it feels wrong. I mean, Riddle is… he’s untouchable. He’s the head boy, he’s smart and charming and loved. And I’m… just me.”

Liza grabbed Y/N’s hands, holding onto them tightly. “You are not just you. You are a top student at Hogwarts. A role model to younger kids. A great candidate for head girl. You are amazing and talented and skilled. You are Y/N L/N.” Liza furrowed her eyebrows as she spoke with such passion.

Y/N teared up at her friend’s kind words. Liza softly smiled and wiped away a stray tear.

“Y/N, do you like Tom Riddle?”

“I’m… not sure.”

“That isn’t an answer. Do you like Tom Riddle?”

“I do.”

Liza grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, tightly gripping them. “Then listen to me, Y/N. You are going to march up to Riddle and you are going to ask that boy out if it’s the last thing you do! And he will accept your offer because he is lucky to even stand so close to you! Do you understand?!”

Liza’s enthusiastic behavior on this matter made Y/N laugh. “Okay, okay. What do I have to do?”

Liza smirked, standing up straight and flicking her raven black hair over her shoulder.

“Leave it to me.”

—

Y/N felt a little foolish as she stood in the crowded hallway, a huge bouquet of flowers in one hand and heart-shaped letter in the other. Liza stood behind Y/N, keeping a lookout for Tom Riddle.

“Is this necessary?” Y/N muttered, gulping as people stared at her when they passed by.

“Absolutely. Come on, I see him.” Liza pushed Y/N forward. Her heart was beating like crazy in her chest. Her knees wobbled like jelly and she found it hard to stand properly.

“Liz,” Y/N whispered, hyperventilating. “Liz. I can’t do this.”

“No. Come on. Y/N, I believe in you. Let’s go.”

Y/N shakily stepped forward. She locked eyes with Riddle, who stared at her in confusion. His eyes flickered to the flowers and the letter, and he tilted his head to the side.

“I can do this.” Y/N muttered to herself.

“You can do this.” Liza echoed.

“I’m a Gryffindor. I’m brave. I’m loyal. I’m courageous. I’m Y/N L/N.” Y/N took a deep breathe before she quickly walked towards Tom.

The sea of students parted for her. They whispered and muttered, wondering what Tom’s answer would be. He was infamous for not caring about other people and, to them, Y/N was just another girl who thought she could change him.

“Y/N.” Tom uttered. That was the first time he had called her by her first name, which said something. Tom’s group that had been accompanying him stepped back, pushing and shoving each other and quietly laughing.

“Tom.” Y/N greeted him back.

“Did you finally say yes to someone asking you out to the Yule Ball?” Tom questioned, reaching out a hand to look at the beautiful flowers. “He has nice choice in flowers.”

“Actually,” Y/N said, stepped closer to the tall brunette, “I’m not the one who has to say yes. But, I’m hoping the person I’m asking will.”

Tom arched an eyebrow, confused and left in the dark.

“Tom Riddle, being your potions partner has been… interesting. It’s been chaotic, which is my favorite kind of fun. You are… amazing, and smart, and a great companion. So, Tom Riddle, despite me being a Gryffindor, will you make me so happy and go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“This is such a Gryffindor thing to do; the girl asking the boy out.” Tom plucked a flower from the bouquet, slightly grinning, “Y/N L/N, you are one amazing girl. I would be honored to be your date.”

Tom slowly tilted Y/N’s chin up and smiled.

“That’s… a yes, right?”

“It’s a yes.”

Malfoy practically tackled Tom. “My friend has a date! Tom finally has a date!”

The hallway burst into cheers and claps. Liza was especially happy. She bounced up to Y/N, hugging her tightly. Other people approached Y/N, joyfully congratulating her and patting her back. Her cheeks ached from smiling so much, but the adrenaline blocked out her pain.

Tom glanced at Y/N, pausing. He adored that glint in her eyes and he hoped it would be there for a long time to come.

[jarofstyles]

Azure- Indigo 5

Helllooo my loves! Here is part 5 to indigo. It's really cute I can't lie, I'm proud of this story :')

Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access to the next 3 parts of Indigo.

Series Masterlist

WC- 5.4k

-------------

Y/N had forgotten how Harry appeared to other people. 

She had been almost floating on air the rest of the weekend, a smile permanently on her face as she walked about her apartment, tending to chores and making sure to take time to look after her tattoo. She had been diligent about her research beforehand, yes, but it was even more imperative now that she kept the piece in pristine condition. 

They’d been texting frequently. Once she had gotten home, he had responded back and it simply hadn’t stopped. There were pauses, warnings from him that he had a client coming in or he was going on a run, but most of the weekend had been spent texting him, giggling at her phone, getting to know him a bit more. His texting style was a bit similar to how he spoke, a bit of dry humor sprinkled in. It seemed he was a little more bold through the phone as well, messaging her with smooth flirtation and obvious interest in her stories. He asked involved questions, checked in on her multiple times, but he wasn’t overly bearing. Y/N felt like she was being hand fed bits and pieces of the man that had always puzzled her. 

“So who’s the guy that had you pretending you’re not smiling at your phone?” Over brunch, Y/N’s friend Julia had caught on to her sneaking peeks at her phone, smiling to herself and trying to pace responses. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to notice this. Y/N couldn’t be subtle if it could save her life. Once you got to know her, it was even more obvious that her feelings would be displayed out for anyone to see. A real heart on her sleeve type of girl. 

Y/N hadn’t wanted to bring him up initially, but the excitement to finally dish about a guy she was actually excited about seeing- even if it was only one planned date- had her mouth almost ready to burst. She didn’t want to tell anyone in their initial friend group because… because what if it didn’t work and then everyone made it super awkward? Y/N did not do good with that sort of pressure and honestly, she would most definitely cry if someone teased her for not being able to keep up with Harry. 

Julia, however? Sweet Julia was a former coworker, mostly removed from that group of friends and it was easier to dish when she hadn’t met him. 

“Well…” Y/N tucked her hair back over her shoulder, fiddling with her napkin. “It’s a guy I’ve known for a bit. He’s actually the one who did my tattoo.” Lifting her arm she motioned to the ink that her friend had previously fawned over. She had a few tattoos herself and had been impressed at how good it had turned out despite some of the detail being scabbed over. Y/N had taken a bit of the moisturizer Harry had given her out after their drinks and shown her, the whole thing. 

“Ohmygod- a tattoo artist?” Her friend’s eyes widened. “The one who did that one? You sly thing… did you get down and dirty in the studio? Oh my god, you gave it so good he had to see more of you? Y/N, you’ve been holding out on me!”

Y/N gaped, floundering for a moment before housing her friends with wide eyes. Her voice hadn’t exactly been quiet and she could feel the lava burning underneath her skin. She loved Julia, but she didn’t have a sense of volume sometimes. “Jules!” She hissed, shaking her head. “No! I didn’t- I didn’t do anything in the studio. No, he was completely and utterly professional and sweet.” There was a weird need to defend Harry’s honor. 

In reality, there was no true idea in her mind if Harry did that sort of stuff before. With how attractive he was, she was sure people attempted it but she doubted he would actually do so. Not when he had worked so hard on his shop’s reputation. He’d told her all about that when they’d gone out afterwards.

“Ok, then what the hell happened? What is his name? Let me see him, immediately.” Her expectant hand shot out, looking at her with a raised brow as Y/N chuckled at her friends' antics- and her audacity. She was lucky Y/N loved her. 

“His name is Harry.” Her voice was soft as she typed his username into the instagram search bar. “He’s a tattoo artist. I met him through our friend group. He’s a friend of Sarah’s. He did my tattoo at his own shop. He owns it himself, and he’s got a few people who work there too.” Pride bled from her voice as she pulled his profile up and handed it over. There weren't too many of him. He had a few tagged, a few photos on his own, but it was mostly his tattoo work and random things here and there. “He’s got a few awards and done a few famous people’s work. It’s so cool. He drew my tattoo up right next to me in his office, his process is so interesting.” 

The girl was chirping about him as if she was already smitten, a dreamy little smile on her lips slipping a bit as she took in Julia’s expression. “What?” 

“Nothing! Nothing- not a bad look, I promise.” Julia hurried to correct her face but she turned the phone back to Y/N. “This is him? The one in the black?” 

It was a photo of him she had seen the other night while she did her obligatory snooping in his tagged. A tight black tee shirt with the Harley Davidson logo on the chest covered his torso and tight fitting black jeans covered his bottom down to his brown boots. His arms bulged slightly as they were crossed over his body, a pint in hand as he looked at the camera. The other hand held out a middle finger over his arm, a cold scowl on his face. His piercings glimmered in the photo, an obvious flash used. It was part of Sarah’s summer photo dump, one he had commented a simple eye roll emoji for despite liking it. Y/N’s snooping was thorough. 

“Yeah… Isn’t he cute?” Y/N asked nervously. It wasn’t that she needed her friend’s acceptance. She liked Harry either way. It would just be nice to not feel a bit off guard when she had expected a squeal back from seeing him. Harry was hot, that was no question. Even if you simply spoke to him without seeing his physical appearance, it was more than obvious he was just an attractive man in general. 

“Cute isn’t the word I’d use. He’s good looking but… He’s a little scary for you, isn’t he?” 

While she knew that the question was most likely an innocent one, it raised her hackles a little bit. Sure, maybe he looked a little scary. Maybe he was intimidating to most. But that didn’t have much to do with anything. “No, I don’t think so. He’s incredibly sweet and kind. He didn’t even charge me for my tattoo and tried to venmo me back his tip but he’s… He’s a little shy.” It had been apparent to her when he had told her why he had been so silent around her. “He tells awful jokes and he’s taking me to a drive-in movie this weekend because he remembered that I liked the one they’re showing. He’s really thoughtful. I know he’s got tattoos and piercings but that doesn’t mean-”

“Woah, slow your roll, Cinnamon Bun.” Julia placed her hand over Y/N’s. “I didn’t mean anything mean by it. Not at all. I’m sure that if you’re with him, he’s a nice guy.” Her face showed guilt for working Y/N up, scooting her chair closer to her. “I just mean he seems a bit intimidating. You know that I’m used to seeing you fawn over more sporty guys, the cleaner cut ones. It was just that he’s different from the norm for you, babe.” 

Y/N’s wind sank and her sails dropped as she realized what her friend had meant. Of course it hadn’t been meant in malice, but she still worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I just think.. I think he’s had a lot of people assume a lot of things about him in the past and it makes me weirdly protective of him. I know I’m kind of his opposite in a lot of ways and it makes me a little insecure because I know people will definitely call it out. Your meaning isn’t bad but eventually people are going to see I don’t seem to be the normal type for him.” 

That was the truth. Y/N had seen peeks of girls he had flirted with or gone off to hook up with and they didn’t exactly look like her. Not at all. 

“Oh, babe. I’m sorry.” Julia sighed. “No. I didn’t mean it that way. If anyone has shit to say, fuck ‘em. I was just surprised. You’ve never been the bad boy aesthetic type but hey, if he’s nice to you that’s all that matters. As long as he knows you’ve got a miniature blonde friend who’s ready to attack ankles at any moment for hurting you and knows how to hide bodies… we’re all good.” 

Y/N had let it go. Julia meant well, but this was exactly why she wanted to wait a bit to let their friend group know they were… something? Seeing each other? They hadn't even gone on a date yet so it seemed to be a stretch to say dating, but whatever it was. Not until it felt steady. They’d all worry over her and warn Harry off when in reality, all he had done in the past was be anxious and let Y/N read him wrong. 

She wanted to protect him from the ribbing and the questions and let them get to know one another in a more intimate way privately. It would be something she would have to bring up to him later…. But how?

—-------------

H: Hi, gorgeous. What are you up to?

Y/N: Hi hi :) Just got done making cinnamon bread. 

H: And are you bringing me a piece of that tonight? 

H: Please say yes or I’ll probably cry. 

Y/N: Of course, crazy. What do you take me for?

H: A goddess, if you continue bringing me baked goods. 

H: But please remember that there is a snack counter there and I will be happy to buy you whatever you want from there or pick up something beforehand. 

Y/N: I really can pay for some of it myself. I feel a little bad making you pay for everything, you’ve already got the tickets. 

H: I’ve got the tickets and more. If I’m taking you out, I’m paying, sweetheart. Nonnegotiable. Your payment can be some of that bread, if it makes you feel better. 

H: I’m just happy you said yes and are giving me a chance after I’ve made an ass of myself. 

Y/N: H :( no

Y/N: You didn’t mean to make me feel bad. I internalized it and maybe you need to work on communication a bit but honestly, It’s all water under the bridge!!! I’m really really excited to go out with you. 

Harry ran his hand over his face. His wrist ached from the 6 hour session the day prior but he was more than a mess of nerves now that the time for their date was almost here. He vacuumed out his car, cleaned it, sprayed with some sort of spray, and replaced the little vent air freshener. The whole thing. His range rover wasn’t ideal for this sort of thing so he had chosen his vintage convertible. The bench seat could lay back and provide more lounging space- and that’s exactly what he had wanted. 

This had been his first dream purchase once he started making more money at his shop. As soon as he finished his car payments on the Range Rover, he had set his sights on a vintage car to cruise around in by himself during the warm nights, a good sound system having been modified in it so he could lose himself in thought while driving down the coastline. This car was his baby. Soft yellow exterior with a pinstripe detail, the smooth car appealed to him immediately. He’s spent months scouring sites and driving to look at different listings but this one had his heart immediately. There hadn’t been too much to change on it, but he had made his personalization with black and white fuzzy dice hanging off the rearview mirror, said sound system, and refreshed seats. The car had been his reward for the hard work and his endless backaches from being hunched over tattooing. 

It had been a no brainer to choose this one but he did worry about if Y/N would think he was being overly flashy. Harry had never been one to show his money off to the masses, instead choosing to invest a lot and keep everything quiet. He’d seen some friends, seen his own clients even complain about how people used them for money and with the concept being newer to him, he wanted to be responsible. He’d read too many financial horror stories on reddit to risk it. His mates guessed he made a decent amount considering how much his minimum was and how picky he was with clients, and sure he picked up the tab a lot without saying who did it, but he tried to keep himself a bit guarded with that. He hoped that if this continued with Y/N- which god, he was praying it would- she wouldn’t be upset with him keeping that a bit of a secret. 

To be honest, he was overthinking every single thing. Despite appearing cool, calm and collected in his texts, he had felt like his thoughts were running out of his head at max speed. Realistically, he knew Y/N wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t want to. She’d have been more than justified if she had, but somehow Harry must have done something right to get the karma to have not only her forgiveness, but her affection. Even the slightest bit. 

Triple checking his outfit, he had felt silly brushing his overgrown hair out of his face but still made sure that there hadn’t been some miracle stain that showed up on his tee shirt or new rip in his pants. There wasn’t, as suspected, and he finally made himself leave the house. The car had the blankets folded in the trunk, along with the two oversized pillows he had purposely chosen despite being a bit chunky. They were straight off his bed, the best ones he had ever found. The plush purple blanket was oversized, a steal from a liquidation store he went to just to feel like he could ‘treasure hunt’ was big enough to cover the seats, and he had a few different ones for Y/N to choose from in the back. 

Was she a faux fur blanket girl? Linen? Crochet? Plush? Velveteen? Another obscure but endearing thing he wanted to carve out of her. 

The drive to her place consisted of Lana Del Rey and the top up of the car. It was obvious it was a convertible but he was trying to keep the warm breeze as a shared experience for them both tonight. The real nerves had hit outside of her stairs, his phone dipped back in his pocket once she had told him she was on her way down. His palms were sweating, a constant reminder of himself to not fuck this up playing on a neverending loop in his head. 

The world went quiet for a moment, though, once Y/N opened the door and shot him a smile so sweet that it almost hurt his own teeth. 

Every time he saw Y/N he had been in awe of her beauty, but it hit a little different now. She had dressed up for the purpose of going out with him. Her lavender colored dress with slightly puffy sleeves, casual as ever with its soft looking fabric, but seeing something like that on her was bringing it to a new level. It swished on her thighs, brushing an inch or so above her knees. Sandals were on her feet and a cream colored oversized bag that resembled one he brought to the beach was hung over her shoulder, snapping against the pavement as she descended the stairs and made her way over to him. 

“Hi!” She chirped, eyes sparkling slightly in the afternoon sun. Sunset would happen in just 30 or so minutes and he had to wonder how his brain would handle seeing her in a golden glow in his car. On a date with him. “You look really handsome, H.” 

It was so opposite what people would assume of a man with his general outward demeanor and rough around the edges appearance. His cheeks heating and having to swallow a lump in his throat to unknot so he could reply to a simple compliment, you’d never expect it. Harry liked that maybe only Y/N would be able to uncover a part of him he kept hidden to protect himself from hurt. The iron armor he kept guarding his heart seemed to melt to molten metal when she reached up to take a hug from him. She smelled so fresh, like laundry in the best way. The warm type right out of the dryer, unsullied from any possible contaminants. She smelled brand new, a start over for him. 

“You always seem to outdo yourself in how gorgeous y’look when I see you.” His guts had returned when he was hugging her, unable to see her reaction. Somehow, Harry could remain stone faced when drunk people came in demanding ink, when he’d gotten in fights at bars during that rougher period, but he couldn't control himself around a soft little doe of a girl like Y/N. 

“Thank you.” She grinned, pulling back with her eyes finding his until her attention was stolen by the car behind him. “Oh my god… Is this a new car?” 

Pride bloomed in his chest as she fawned over his car, one of his prized possessions that she was slightly bouncing on her toes as her hand ran over the hood. This was the reaction he had been hoping for. “Well, technically it’s an old one.” The joke was cracked with a smirk, making Y/N laugh and his chest feel full. 

“No shit, funny man.” Her hand pushed his bicep. “I mean, when did you get it? I’ve never seen you drive this, just your Range Rover.” 

“It’s sort of a special occasion car. Drives down the coast mostly, sometimes car meets if Niall finds one and tells me to bring it. I got it a while ago but the other car is more practical so it stays in the garage while I put the milage on the other one.” He placed a hand on the handle to open up her door, letting her take a look inside. “It’s really special to me. I try t’be careful with her.”

“Her?” Y/N rose a brow as she sat herself in the seat, wiggling around as she got comfortable. “Should I be jealous?”

Her own flirty jokes made Harry relax a tiny bit more. He wasn’t the only one feeling this, and it made him feel a whole lot better to hear it from her. “No, no. She’s got nothing on you, darling.” With a wink, he closed her door and jogged around to his side and patting himself on the back for not choking at the response he just gave. 

—---

Y/N’s own body was buzzing with nerves. Sitting in this fantastic car that she knew her grandfather would absolutely lose his head over, Hozier’s ‘Abstract’ played through the radio and her hair was fluttering around as Harry drove through the streets towards the destination. The sun was warming her cheek, hand dipping up and down as she let the wind pass through her fingers. There was some chatter but mostly a silence that Y/N found to be quite comfortable. Harry wasn’t an incredibly talkative person in general but he seemed to be a lot more open when it was just the two of them. She was enjoying this, the overall energy pretty good- a bit nervous and giggly but what first date didn’t start off like that? 

“How did you even find out about this?” Y/N turned to look at him as they waited in line to park his car and let them scan the code he had open on his phone. “Like, I didn’t even know there was a drive-in so close to us. I still feel like a newbie here sometimes but.. It was really thoughtful. I never thought I’d get to see this one on a big screen since it had come out before I could have watched it.” 

“I remembered you liked that movie we were seeing when I was scrolling down instagram. It was weird, I knew there was one but I never interacted with anything about it so… The algorithm must have helped me out.” He laughed, running his thumb over his lower lip to hide his smile a little bit. “I know people normally would say a movie on a first date would be a little eh, but we know each other a little and it’s your favorite. It’s outside, too. Anything is ten times better under the stars.”

Y/N loved that. That was true, but for someone who had been so nervous to speak to her before he was sure as hell doing a good job finding all the soft pleasure spots in her brain and stroking them. Clicking off things on her mental list she didn’t know she had. “I’m glad it did. I’m excited, especially with a car like this, it’s incredible. You did a perfect job picking this out.” Truly, he had plucked a dream scenario from her romantic underbelly and brought it up to the surface. 

“Good.” He smiled, pulling up to the person scanning their tickets. It was pay per car, so it hadn’t been too spendy, but Harry was more than going to make up for it. His relief was clearly lifted off his shoulders as she expressed her approval of his choice. He’d probably fall on down the sewer if she hated it. 

Their spot was a place in the middle and towards the back. There were only about 50 spots, and they had definitely been a bit fucked with traffic but at least they werent in a corner. Cutting the car off, he took a breath before turning to her. “We’re gonna pull the top down and uh, the bench seat flattens out. So it can be easier to stretch out.” He flexed his hand around the gearshift, watching as her face brightened. “I’ve got loads of blankets in the trunk and two pillows too. M’not trying to be suggestive but it’s easier to get comfortable.” Harry wanted to make this the most memorable date- in a good way. The knowledge of the fact he knew for a fact other guys in the group fancied her and could talk to her without seeming like an ass used to make his stomach hurt, but it was such a relief to have her with him now. She was way too sweet and understanding but he adored the fact that she had particularly chosen him to go out with. Y/N wasn’t a prize, she wasn’t an object, but he felt like he was a winner for getting to spend time with her. 

“Here-” He took his wallet out and slipped one of his cards out. “Go and get whatever you want for the movie and we can get proper food after.” The cool plastic was paced into her palm, his fingers closing her own around it so she didn’t drop it. “Whatever y’want and I mean it. They’ve got those chocolate bars y’like, I saw online. Buy the whole candy case if you want. I’ll get this fixed up and meet you over there to help carry it.” 

Y/N wasn’t going to argue, her jello like knees shaking as she walked over to the retro shack. It was unreal. Harry had seemed to put a lot of thought into every step. His mention of knowing her favorite chocolate was there and that he’d remembered it even just having heard it in a very tipsy conversation she’d had with Charlotte with Harry ‘glaring’ at her across the table. Apparently, he had just been focusing on her answer and not wishing she would drop dead. Who’d have thought? 

Rocking on her feet, Y/N looked over the menu and made her mind up pretty quickly- an absolute miracle for her- as soon as she saw the selection of drinks. Usually she wasn’t a carbonated bev type of person, but when she saw you could add little flavors into them, she was more than happy to order a sprite with strawberry flavoring. She had only been a few places where they’d done so before, so she was taking it. She went with a Root Beer for Harry and another bottle of water to split, a large popcorn and a side of the cheese sauce that she lovingly called plastic cheese like her mother always had. As much as she was tempted, she chose 3 things of candy. Sour, sweet and chocolate. The array. 

Swiping his card felt a little wrong but secretly, she was happy that he had insisted. There had been many a date where the man hadn’t even offered, or who thought buying a lackluster meal meant he should have access to her body. While she didn’t need him to pay, the gesture was what she liked. Harry had been nothing but respectful once he had actually opened his mouth to talk to her. 

Placing the lids on the drinks, she had placed them on the tray but frowned slightly at the idea of walking across the field balancing them and not dropping them. Thankfully she felt a large hand on her own as the tray had been swiftly taking into his grip. The tray that had seemed ginormous in her own hands looked small in his. 

“Told you I’d come to help. You don't need to be carrying it.” 

Again, Y/N didn’t feel like arguing as she let him lead her back to the car, his lack of clumsiness making her look twice as bad. She’d stumbled three times, the uneven terrain making it a little difficult with the dents the cars had carved into spots in the lot. Thank the sky above she had let him take it. Her mind had been on that but was taken out of thought when she saw the set up. It was so cute, Y/N almost let out a coo as she watched him place the tray on the close trunk. It had been set up like a bed, three blankets overlapping each other on top. 

“Didn’t know the kind of blanket you liked so I brought a few.” 

If he got any more adorable, Y/N would lose it. 

“You did? That’s so sweet, H.” She whispered, slipping her shoes off as he opened the door to let her get in easier. There was no way she was about to mess up the thing he had put so much thought into. Her eyes went to the plushy one, lifting that one as Harry removed his boots. “I claim this one.” 

Harry added the blanket preference to his Y/N list mentally. 

“Perfect.” He nodded. “Did you want to share or do separate ones?” 

The days were perfectly warm, but since the sun had been setting the cool night had been settling over the place. It got nippy, and Y/N was selfish and curious. “Sharing is fine.” She peeped, spreading it across her lap and holding it open for him. This would bring them closer. His thigh was near hers, sitting sprawled out as he carefully balanced the tray to sit in front of them. 

This was just… good. Harry was obviously a little nervous still, but Y/N was laughing at his jokes, she had been interested in what he had to say. It wasn’t the fake half assed listening most people did. She asked detailed follow up questions and laughed at the right times, especially when their hands met when trying to grab some popcorn as the trailers before the move began. 

They were shifting closer to one another, slowly allowing it to happen until Harry suggested laying back. The popcorn setted between them, He put a second blanket on them when he noticed her shiver slightly. Y/N was trying to figure out how to ask to cuddle with him without asking outright, but it was hard. All he was doing was being respectful but she wanted to be closer to him, wanted his arm around her and the cold to disappear. It felt like everytime they brushed that she got pleasantly flushed. 

“Y’cold still?” Harry whispered, another shiver getting his attention. He didn’t need to know it was from his hand brushing the popcorn from her thigh over the blanket. 

“Yeah, I run cold” She said softly. “Can we get closer? Body heat is a bit better.” 

Harry loved it. Her innocent expression but obviously wanting to get closer, to be held by him specifically. “I’m never going to say no to having’ you close to me, sweetheart.”

His arm was lifted and she ducked underneath, his body turning slightly on his side so she could get close and lean into him, the blankets pulled to their chins and his hand falling to her arm where he began to run his fingers over. 

Y/N wanted to squeal, but she settled for a happy little wriggle disguised as getting comfortable. He was indeed much warmer than blankets, but his fingers running over her and her cheek pressed against his shoulder with his body heat leaking through his shirt made her warm right in her stomach. His touch felt so good, comforting and exciting all at the same time. So far, this had been the best date she had ever been on and it really had just begun. 

—------

Y/N was so beautiful. 

Harry had been paying far too much attention to the girl curled up against him like a little kitten. Purring as he stroked her bare skin once his fingers had gone under the blanket for her. The screen illuminated her face as she watched her movie, his lips watching her lips as she silently recited lines and giggled at the right moments. He was learning a lot just watching her reactions. The yearning on her face during the softer romantic scenes, what things got little giggles, what made her cringe. How long her eyelashes were and how her nose curved, the tiny marks on her face he had never seen. 

This was the type of date he had always wanted to have. To go out with a girl he genuinely liked, who saw more of him than met the eye, who wanted to get to know him. Someone who could make him loosen up a bit. He’d not had any goals for this besides having her enjoy herself and hopefully grow to like him more. Enough to give him a shot of dating her. It made him realize how his past in bed hadn’t made him feel a fraction of the excitement or even pleasure that this did. Simply sitting with a girl he had a massive crush on holding onto his shirt, watching her beauty in real time. There was no feeling of rush with her. As much as he was truly attracted to her, he was happy with this. Maybe a kiss or two would throw him over the moon. Just being in this scenario felt like a dream come true.

He was sure the movie was great, but the vision in front of him was far, far more interesting to him. 

[incarnadin3]

L Is For Love - Pt.1 (Soulmate!Au)

A/N: I saw this idea on a Tumblr post and omg I wanted to write it so bad. This probably will turn into a short fic, and my replaced au fic will be on hold for a while cuz I need to reset my brain (I have commitment issues) Anyways, enjoy~ (Also I'm not familiar with writing gender neutral reader so if you spot a mistake please let me know!) Also it refers to furries at one point, and it isn't meant to be derogatory or anything, trust.

Pairings: Lucifer X GN!Reader, Leviathan x GN!Reader

"Oh I can't believe it happening to me"

A tattoo. One simple letter, inked into your arm the day you turned 18.

What value does one sole letter hold?

Everything.

That one simple letter becomes the reason you breath, sleep, eat, live.

Some call it a scam, saying a letter can't define who your lover should be. But of course, only the ones who haven't experienced it, will judge it, no?

They say fate holds the reins, deciding who will meet who, when and why. So when you get your letter, don't stress! All will fall into place when it has to.

No one can change what is written in the stars....

As the sun shone through the pastel curtains, you groaned, covering your face with your hand, still half asleep.

Suddenly, a throbbing pain shot up your hand, and you cursed, pressing into the pained area with your other hand to deviate the pain. Grumbling, you stumbled to their feet, cursing as you nearly tripped over your own dirty socks, as you opened the bedroom door. You stumbled into the bathroom, squinting at the harsh white light of the bathroom, as you heard your annoying brother shout,

"Oi! You think you can be any less louder?! What are you, King Kong?! Stop stomping around the house!"

"Shut it!", you yelled, or more like groaned, sleep clouding your voice.

Blinking quickly, you tried to make sense of your surroundings, your eyes travelling over the sickeningly white walls and countertops, with speck of black marble in them.

Another round of pain shot up your arm and you hissed, quickly running your left hand under the water. Your eyes went to your wrist to see what was making it hurt so bad.

A black mark.

You frowned. Had your idiotic brother drawn on your hand while you were fast asleep? Was that it? But upon closer inspection, you noticed a very messy letter inked into your wrist.

L

"Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this"

A soulmate mark is an inscription in one's wrist, of their fated soulmate. One cannot pick his soulmate, for it is decided by fate.

You scoffed, slamming the book shut, and instantly regretting it when a plume of smoke shoots up and you cough, face red as other people sitting near you shoot you a dirty look.

You hated this library with a passion. You loved reading, yes, but this library sucked. It made it seem as if talking was a crime, and dropping a book, a sin.

Grunting, you grabbed the heavy book and lugged it back to its original spot, because god forbid you placed the book in those bright yellow plastic carts. Even though they were made and placed for the very reason that you could place books in there instead of heaving them back to their original spot, you'd much rather commit arson that use the cart. It was for show anyways.

As you walked out of the library, your eyes fell on your wrist again, tracing the L inked into it.

It annoyed you greatly that you didn't know your soul mate's name, just the letter.

"If fate wants to decide my soulmate for me then why the fuck can't I know their full name?"

You suddenly yelped, stumbling into something that sounded a lot like coins, and cursed. Kneeling to pick up the coins, you realised you had tripped into some beggar's coin jar.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!", you apologized, quickly picking up the coins and dropping them back into the jar. You raised your head to look the homeless man in the eyes, his haggard white hair and beard covering his face. " Are you okay?!"

"You cannot change fate. You will meet him when it is fated. Don't fight it."

Taken aback, you blinked once, then twice. "I-I'm sorry?"

"Don't question fate. Fate is decided, you will meet him when the time is right."

Your breathing quickened as you stared at the man, still kneeling. His beard was too white to be related to old age. His hair was too full and too shiny to be old. His eyes were too bright, his lips were too full, his skin was too-

You gasped as if someone had pulled you out of water right as you were drowning. You quickly jumped to your feet, backing away from the man.

"I-I'm sorry, I have to go!"

Quickly dropping a coin into his coin jar, you turned and took off running, cold sweat dropping down your face. It wasn't until you were a good three blocks away that you calmed down, panting.

Crossing the street, you murmured to yourself, "psycho old man, what the fuck was he try-"

Beep!

A horn sounded as you turned, car light's blinding you as the last thing you saw was a horrified expression of the driver as he surely ran you over.

For some reason, you felt no pain. Did you die? Probably...

You groaned, opening your eyes to see a dark mahogany ceiling, with floating candles. Hogwarts? Was Hogwarts heaven suddenly? Was this some software update you didn't know about?

"Ah, it seems your awake..."

You shrieked, jumping six feet into the air, and saw a man with bright red hair, and....horns?

Your wrist tingled, and you internally thought, was this furry your soulmate?

"My name is Diavolo, future king of Devildom, or as you humans may call it, Hell."

Your eyes widened. So you did die. And you didn't even go to heaven! But at least on the bright side, this furry...or whatever he was, wasn't your soulmate. So, yay?

"I know you must be confused right now, but allow me to explain. We were planning on bringing you here for some time as a part of an exchange student program. However, while we were about to summon you, you nearly got into a terrible car accident. Thankfully, albeit some mysterious reason, we were able to save you before you died. Now, let me introduce you to the demons you'll be living with."

And just like that, you were a human exchange student in Hell. The “demons” you were supposed to live with weren’t there when you first arrived, so you were told to live in the Purgatory Hall, with two angels and a suspicious looking human. After that day when you found your soulmate’s letter, you hadn’t seen it again. You knew two of the demons had their names start in L. Could one of them be your soulmate?

You were dying to meet them, but as that creepy old man, and practically everyone in your life had said, you had to wait for fate to make you two meet.

To be continued….