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#and tom with so much want for harry he would stare you down
hazelfoureyes · 6 months
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A Doe in Fall (Part 3)
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⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds
Part 3 A tragedy 
So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.
「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」
Minors DNI 🤺
You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.
But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall. 
You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet. 
“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.
“No, Tommy.”
“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”
His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him. 
“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.
You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.
“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”
You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call. 
“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”
You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.
“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.
“For what?”
It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?” 
He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.
“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”
“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”
“He usually cuts us in.”
Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely. 
“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.
“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.
“That’s it?” Incredulous.
“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”
“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”
By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder. 
Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark. 
During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.
Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”
You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight. 
Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.
“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?” 
Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.
“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.
He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.” 
Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally. 
“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.
You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’
Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away. 
“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you. 
“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.
“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.
“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere. 
“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”
Lie. 
“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.” 
Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”
“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.
“Then look at me.”
Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.
You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.
You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.
Lie. 
You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.
Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.
“Alastor, people are staring.” 
His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.
“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.
“The truth or wh-“
“Always. Never give me anything else.”
You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”
Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.
“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.” 
Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.
“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”
You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?
He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it. 
You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.
Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans. 
You stood, waiting for an explanation.
Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”
You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it? 
Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?
“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”
“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”
He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”
You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.
He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”
You watched his car light up and leave the alley.
It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions. 
So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?
Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”
You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.” 
Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date. 
Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”
Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”
“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”
Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.
He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled. 
Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.
Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future. 
However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this. 
Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.
Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.
Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.
When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.
“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it. 
Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.
“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.
You grimaced, “No, a murder.”
She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”
You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.
“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush. 
“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.
“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”
“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”
A nod, yes, actually, you had.
“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”
You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”
When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.
“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.” 
Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.
The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.
The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?  
Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?
Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.
The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.
You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.
And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.
Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.
You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.
The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.
“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.
“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.
“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.
“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”
A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”
A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.” 
Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once. 
Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat. 
Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor. 
“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him. 
You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”
“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”
Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream. 
Funny how that works both ways.
Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?” 
The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.
Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee. 
You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.
Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?
He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.
You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.
Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!” 
He nodded, “Yeah.”
“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”
As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”
He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?” 
You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.
“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”
How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again. 
Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.
“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.” 
How could he make hell sound so sweet?
“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin. 
He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?
His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him. 
You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”
His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.
Had you said something wrong? 
“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”
Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.
He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.
Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.
Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him. 
With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them? 
Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.
He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him. 
Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.
You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.
Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores. 
But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.
Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.
“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”
His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.
You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”
He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.
“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.
Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.
The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor. 
Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.
Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.
He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.
He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.
He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him. 
(Next Part Next Week, orz)
*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one
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vivantesopvles · 4 months
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‘You must want something,’ Tom said, sidling up to Harry, who had donned an apron and was frying eggs at the hob. ‘Come on, I said I’d repay you for what you did at the Ministry. It’s not everyday that I’m in the mood for decency.’
Harry snorted. ‘Shocking, that.’
He did a little flourishing motion with his wand; in no time came the sound of espresso being made, and milk being steamed. He floated two slices of toast into the toaster, then checked the eggs.
He was doing a very good job at ignoring Tom, which was unacceptable – as much as Tom loved watching him go about his morning routine. So Tom drew close enough to press himself up against Harry’s back, hugging his waist, the way Harry liked it.
And Harry, unsurprisingly, turned red.
‘This, for example,’ Tom said softly. ‘You must know I can give you more. You won’t have to want for things ever again.’
‘And I suppose you’re doing this right now for reasons entirely selfless?’
Tom grinned down into Harry’s hair. Other than it being Harry’s birthday, which Harry himself seemed to have forgotten entirely, Tom also did intend to keep Harry sweet for his plans to work.
To Harry’s credit, he was a hard nut to crack. Tom can’t remember spending as much time wooing someone – not even to bed; Harry hardly trusted him with the weekly shopping. It was fortunate, perhaps, he knew just how to distract him.
‘Maybe … maybe not. But on a similar note,’ Tom continued, keeping his voice low and suggestive, ‘I’m told I give quite spectacular head.’
‘How’s that even relevant?’ Harry choked out. He squirmed a little in Tom’s arms, a token attempt to break himself free. ‘Riddle, are you trying to seduce me?’
‘Hmm … seduce would suggest an intention to lead astray, though.’ Tom chose to let his hands wander then, light and innocent down Harry’s stomach. ‘Is that what you want? An excuse to run away from everything whilst being thoroughly disavowed? Well, I can always kidnap you, if you ask nicely.’
He hadn’t expected it, but his words must’ve hit too close to home. Because Harry spun around, a curious mixture of anger and embarrassment on his face.
‘Is that a threat or a very bad attempt at psychoanalysis?’ he retorted, swatting off Tom’s hands and taking a step back. ‘You were doing such a good job just now, with the sweet-talking and whatnot. Pity you couldn’t keep up the act for more than five minutes.’
‘I suppose I’ll just have to try harder, then. It’s your birthday after all,’ Tom said placidly. He was enjoying this a bit too much, he realised; winding Harry up, watching him get defensive, or even better, flustered.
He went and plated Harry’s breakfast, slathering his toast with an absurd amount of butter, poured milk into his coffee and drew a little heart in the foam with magic. When he was done, he found Harry staring at him, visibly shaken.
Tom smiled. ‘We could start with holding hands if you’d like – it’d only just occurred to me that you might be a prude.’
08052024 | @microficmay | will
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peterpan1234567 · 1 year
Text
The Riddles Whore
The whole school sat in the great hall watching as the new first years got sorted into there houses most of them were Gryffindor’s no surprise there I’m a Hufflepuff which it’s not like aren’t any Hufflepuffs there are just a lot more Gryffindors. I don’t talk to many people only three one being my brother Cedric Diggory Luna Lovegood and Harry Potter I just don’t like the people they hang out with like Hermione and Ron they seem like nice people but they’re just not for me.
I always had told Luna and Cedric everything including the fat that I have liked Tom and Mattheo Riddle since I first saw them In first year we’re in Fifth year now and I don’t plane on every telling them I don’t know what they would do with that information and I don’t plane on finding out either.
All of the first years were sorted and everyone started eating well everyone but me I couldn’t focus on food I was to busy staring at the Riddle brothers as they talked to their friends and ate. Their friend group consists of Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zambi they are the most feared group in Hogwarts they are also considered the most dangerous. Lorenzo Berkshire, he’s the nicest person in the group but don’t let the niceness foul you he loves to get into fights just like Theodore and Mattheo it’s like they are all drawn to it or something.
Draco Malfoy he’s the one that gets what he wants when he wants it not like they all don’t but Draco always wins with what ever it is and Blaise is always they’re along side him no matter what just like Tom they stick together through thick and thin like they’re own little family.
I didn’t notice how long I had been staring till I saw them getting up and felt Luna start shaking me. “Are you ever going to tell them instead of just staining at them from afar?” “Why would I do that like they even no my name Luna I never leave my dorm for anything other than classes and to go to the great hall to eat but never do.”
Luna and I decided just to leave the great hall and go to our dorm we were laughing at the fact that Cedric had tripped over nothing and face planted when I ran into someone which led to me falling backwards and then not moving a muscle. I looked up to see who it was and it was none other than Mattheo Riddle. My heart stopped when I noticed he was looking down at me.“I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going“ I looked at the person beside him who was just laughing at me and it was Theodore Nott he hated all ‘dirty blooded people that weren’t pure blood like me.’ “Do you really think that he would talk to someone like you maybe you should watch where you’re going next time half-blood.”
I don’t know what came over me I got off the floor and smacked Theodore across the face before I knew what I had done he slammed my head into the wall beside where we were standing causing my head to be cut open and me to drop to the ground. “Do you know who I am cause I don’t think you do if you did you wouldn’t be so stupid as to hit one of the most feared people in Hogwarts.” I couldn’t hear much but I knew that wasn’t Theodore speaking it was Mattheo he was the one that slammed my head into the wall. Before I knew it everything was black.
I woke up a month later in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey told me I had to return to my lessons which I didn’t want to since the groups of Slytherins were in all of my classes well at least one of them was but I knew it would be hell it was only 7:15 so I still had time to go to the great hall and find Luna I was walked to the great hall and everything was fine until I stepped through the doors everyone was staring at me everyone but the group of Slytherins. I heard all of the whispering about what had happened and that’s when I felt a new pair of eyes watching me I turned my head to the Slytherin table where I saw Mattheo Riddle staring at me with a smirk on his lips he had a new cut along the bridge of his nose which only made me more attracted to him if it were possible.
I tried to ignore everyone’s comments all throughout the great hall and once Professor Dumbledore announced that it was time to go to our first class of the day I was so relieved. I had Defense Against the Dark Arts first I loved this class but it always seemed to have a new teacher through the year and like I predicted we had a new teachers his name is Professor Slughorn he seems nice. “Okay class I will be giving you a new seething arrangement today.” He pointed to every desk and read off the names “Draco Malfoy with Blaise Zambi, Tom Riddle with Lorenzo Berkshire, Theodore Nott with Pansy Parkensin, and lastly Mattheo Riddle and Hope Diggory.” Okay I hate this professor already. I watched as Mattheo scoffed but sat down and so I headed to my seat as the whole class stared at us till Mattheo finally got sick of it and yelled at them to turn around before he killed them all.
I didn’t listen to Slughorn one bit throughout the whole lesson I was to busy watching Mattheo write the assignment down I watched as he smoked a cigarette again but the way he held it was mesmerizing I couldn’t focus on anything else. I got knocked out of my thoughts when Slughorn said this “I want you all to work together with your table parter ti get to now each other better so you both must write a five page essay about each other and hand it in by the end of next week.” I couldn’t believe it I had to work together with a Riddle I might as well take my chances with the creatures of the forbidden forest at least then I have a better chance at surviving.
“Since we have to work together you can come to my dorm at ten tonight the only other person that will be there is Tom and I’m not stepping foot into your stupid house.” “Wow and just to think I thought you couldn’t get anymore self centered than you already are.” “I can still slake you against a wall again and don’t think I won’t.” “Yeah you could but then you would fail this assignment so good luck with that one Riddle.” I walked away before he could say another word my heart was already beating so fast I didn’t need it to actually beat out of my chest.
it was 9:58 and I started heading to Riddles dorm scared to see what would happen if I said something wrong to either of them. “Oh well look who decided to show up and not late this time.” “Can we just get this over with already it’s bad enough I have to work with you on something we don’t need to talk more than we have to.” Matthew didn’t lie the only other person here is Tom not like it helps though.
Riddle started and we were pretty close to being done with the project till he asked me a personal question. “Are you a virgin?” “W-w-what?” I didn’t know how to react to that question. “I said are. You. A. Virgin.” He already knew the answer to it he just wanted to see if I would actually answer it honestly. “Yeah I am. Happy now.” “Very your turn to ask the question.” “Who was the first person you fucked.” “So we’re actually doing there okay. It was Hailey Greengrass.” “Wow of course it was.” “Whats that supposed to mean?” “Nothing your turn.” “Have you ever had a boyfriend?” He just really wanted to get to me didn’t he. “No I haven’t.” “Have you ever even kissed anyone .” “You already asked your question Riddle.” “Yeah well I’m asking another one. Have you. Ever. Kissed. Anyone. Before?” “No okay I’ve never dated anyone never kissed anyone, never touched myself and I’m still a virgin happy now.”
I hear laughter from the other side of the room it was Tom I forgot he was here shit why did I say all those things. “Are you hearing this Tom.” “How could I not Mattheo when she’s screaming like a little whore for you.” “I’m not a little whore let alone his.” They both looked at me and just smirked at each other what were they planing.” If you you really want to know then why don’t you ask Tom or I.” “Y-y-you can hear what I’m thinking?” “All the time we hear everything including what you think in the great hall when you’re staring at us from your table never eating just staring.”
I had just stopped breathing at this point they heard what I was thinking in every class every meal even when Mattheo had almost killed me they heard me everyone I thought about them Fuck. “Now no don’t be so shy we can still hear what you think why not just say what you want you little whore.” “I’m not a whore.” “That’s it.” Before I had time to react Tom had thrown me on Mattheo’s bed hard it kind of hurt. My face was in the pillows and tom and used so stupid ass spell to take off all of my cloths but my panties and handcuffed my hands to the top of the bed. “Look at how wet she is Mattheo bet it’s just because we called her a whore.” “I already said I’m not a whore.”
I couldn’t hold still until I felt someone smack my ass really hard that it brought tears to my eyes. “Stop moving you whore or you’re gonna regret it.” “I already told you Tom I’m not a whore.” And I kept trying to to move trying the most important word there since Mattheo had grabbed my hips keeping them pinned to the mattress keeping me from moving. “I warned you, you little whore.” I couldn’t think before I felt Tom start spanking me really hard and they only got harder and harder than the last until the point that I was literally crying into Mattheo’s pillows.
Tom took off my panties just to keep on spanking me even harder than when I had them on I couldn’t stop crying at all it hurt to much to think about anything else even the way Mattheo’s hands felt on my waist. I was so lost in the pain of Tom soaking my ass that I didn’t realize when he had started spanking my clit making me cry out in pain which only brought him pleasure.”Are you sure you’re not a whore for us Hope your naked and chained to a bed crying while we hold you down.”
I couldn’t answer when I felt Tom slip three fingers into me all at once and Mattheo started leaving hickeys all over my neck looking for my sweat spot and and when he heard my breath hitch he bit down harder making sure to leave a darker mark making me moan which got both boys to laugh and Tom started moving his fingers faster inside of me making this strange feeling come in the lower part of my stomach and it started to hurt and when Mattheo saw my face he leaned down to my ear and told me . “Come on Hope let go for Tom be a good whore for us.” I looked up at him and saw this twinkle in his eyes that put me over the edge as I moaned really loudly I don’t know what got into me but I kissed Mattheo as I moaned his and Toms names trying to get over the euphoric feeling I just had but it was impossible when Tom don’t stop moving his fingers only going faster.
“Tom it hurts please stop.” “Aw is the little whore hurt well to bad because I’m far from done with you.” I looked up at Mattheo through my tear filled eyes. “Daddy please make it stop it’s hurts.” Tom chuckled I hadn’t realized what I had said I was lost in the pleasure I had right know. “Daddy is it you really are a little whore.” I couldn’t defend myself anymore I couldn’t control the tears that fell with each trust of toms fingers and the almost inhumane pace he had set.
I guess I hadn’t noticed till I looked to my side to see Mattheo naked he was hard and huge to be bad to be 12 inches long and I wanted him . “If you want me just ask luv it’s not that hard.” “Please daddy I wanna taste you please.” “What do you think Tom should I give her what she wants?” “Why not I’m tiered of hearing her sobbing anyways.” They talked about me as if I wasn’t even there. I opened my mouth ready to take mattheo but once he was about five inches inside my mouth I can for the second time on Toms fingers with a loud cry that was barely muffled by Mattheo’s cock so Mattheo grabbed the back of my head and slammed the rest of him inside of my mouth while Tom only picked up the pace of his fingers making me cry even more and not with pleasure but with pain now. I was struggling to breath with Mattheo down my throat and he started to notice when I closed my eyes as if I was about to pass out so he let go of my hair and let me take a breath.
“I want you inside of me Mattheo please.” I couldn’t stop crying and begging it was like they were just making me do it. “I already am princess.” I shook my head not knowing how to say I want him to take my virginity. “That’s what you want me to take your virginity all you have to do is ask.” It was hard to talk with Tom still fingering me really fucking hard that it hurt his fingers kept hitting my good spot every time “Please Mattheo pleASE.” I couldn’t say anymore before I had cum for the fourth time and my legs were shaking but Tom just kept on going. “Please Mattheo please take my virginity please please please let me be your good little whore please.” I said it more as a whisper than anything but it got Tom to still his fingers inside of me and it gave me a break to finally catch my breath.
“You want daddy to take your virginity and be a good whore them you have to be good.” “I will I will i will I promise just please let me have you both inside of me please I need you both.” I don’t know what came over me but I knew I need them both not one but both at the same time I needed it they’re like a drug that I can’t stop taking and I don’t want to either. “You want us both then say where you want us to be whore.” I was still crying from the overstimulation. “I wan, I want Tom to take my ass and Mattheo to take my pussy please daddy’s pretty please I need you both.” Tom turned me over and uncuffed my hands from the top of the bed so he could see my face.
“Look at the little whore crying and begging for us isn’t she cute Mattheo.” “Yes she is brother. I think we should give her what she wants now.” I could barely make out they’re words when they both started pushing into me at the same time and I would be lying if I said it didn’t hurt cause it did a lot and I think Mattheo’s started to see that when him and Tom were both about half way inside of me they both stopped so Mattheo could make sure I was okay. “Are you okay Hope.” I was to far gone to answer with words so I just shook my head and put my face back to the crook of Mattheo’s neck and cried again but not from pain from the pleasure they brought me when they both had bottomed out inside of me.
Mattheo laughed when he felt my mouth fall open to form and ‘o’ shape when he and Tom were fully inside me it’s the best feeling I have ever felt in my life and I get enough of it. It was amazing. They both started moving at the perfect pace when one slammed into me the other pulled out and both at the Sam fast and brutal pace that had me moaning louder than I was before.”look at her falling apart for us like the pathetic whore she is Mattheo.” “Come on Tom we both know that you’ve never had a girl take you as good as Hope is right know. The having a civilized conversation as if I wasn’t even in the room let alone In between then. They both saw how I was holding onto Mattheo’s shoulders since I was already close to cuming for the fifth time tonight and they both grounded because of how tight if a grip my walls had on them now. “I didn’t think she could get any more tight and then she did.” “I know right Tom it’s unbelievable.” Just hearing they’re voices made me cum again with the loudest moan yet.
They were both groaning and Mattheo moaned or that’s what I heard before I felt both of them still inside of me and cum at the same time making me cum for the seventh time and hopefully the last. They both just layer there Tom on top of me and me on Mattheo we all are breathing heavy till Tom pulled out then immediately put his fingers back inside of me working his cum back into means Mattheo’s did the same moments after making me start to cry with how much it hurt because it didn’t even take five seconds for me to cum for the eighth time and all I saw was white and then it all when dark.
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ateliersss · 3 months
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Journey into The Past Ch.1
Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader Summary: They say every human has their person, even some as cold, heartless and cruel as the Dark Lord. Would you try and tell that to Harry Potter, of all people, he would not hesitate to deny even the slightest hint of someone having feelings more than blazing hate for that man, this monster. A journey into the past shows him a different part of the former life of the murderer of his parents. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 1,869 Masterlist
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“Chocolate Frogs.” Harry murmured to the eagle statue, which jumped to the side a second later.
He was tired — Snape looked everywhere for an opportunity to give him detention, Ron and Hermione still avoided each other like the plague, and he still had no idea how to get this memory from Slughorn.
As he dragged himself up the staircase, he thought of an excuse why he still didn’t have it. Harry knocked on the office door and was soon called in by the Headmaster’s familiar, calm voice.
“Good evening, Harry.” Dumbledore greeted him from his chair, “Please sit down.” He added and pointed to the chair standing in front of his desk.
Harry closed the door and made his way through the office when he noticed something on the desk — alongside the usual silver instruments, the bowl of Dumbledore’s favourite sweets, some books and parchments, vials containing a silvery shimmering liquid stood on top of the dark wooden surface. Sitting down, they were on the same eye level as him and stared at him judgingly, as if they wanted to remind him of his failure.
“Professor, I–“
“–haven’t found a way to get the memory from Professor Slughorn.”
Harry shamefully looked down at his feet.
“If you did, you would have come to me the second you got your hands on it.”
“I’m sorry, Professor.”
“I have faith in you, Harry. You will find a way. Nevertheless, we will have to continue with our journey through Voldemort’s past.” Dumbledore said, eyes shifting to the gleaming vials. “These memories belonged to an incredibly smart and determined girl, always respectful and friendly to others.”
Dumbledore got up, walked around his desk and took the vial from the far left. The Pensieve was already floating next to them. Harry got up as well and watched Dumbledore pour the memory into it. The memory turned into an ink-like substance and slowly took on a hazy image. Harry dipped his head into the Pensieve and soon felt the familiar tug, lifting him out of reality and into the memory.
Harry was standing in a library, the library of Hogwarts. It had barely changed and was completely empty. Nothing surprising, it was already dark outside.
Just as he was about to turn to Dumbledore and ask him if they were in the right place, he heard a giggle, undoubtedly coming from a girl. Dumbledore headed in the direction of the giggles. Harry quickly caught up with him.
They passed the many bookshelves until they reached the barred doors of the Restricted Section. Following Dumbledore who apparently knew where to go, Harry soon saw the source of the voice.
“I mean it, Tom, stop bothering me. I still have to finish this.” You scolded, trying to suppress your laughter to sound serious.
To say that Harry was shocked by what he saw would be an understatement.
None other than Voldemort — or rather, Tom Riddle — was standing right behind you. He was bent forward so that your heads were on the same level. He brushed your hair aside, slowly revealing the eagle of Ravenclaw on your robes, and slowly kissed your neck up and down.
“You can do it later.” He groaned, his voice muffled against your skin.
“You know I can’t. I put it off until now and it’s due tomorrow.”
“You can copy mine.”
“No, I can’t. Slughorn will notice it.”
“He will ignore it. He loves you.”
“No, Tommy, he loves you. I’m just his second favourite.”
Tom let out a frustrated groan and buried his face into the crook of your neck. “I told you how much I hate it when someone talks back to me.”
You laughed at his antics. “And I told you, you would get bored. You didn’t have to come.”
“You’ll need me when someone catches you outside of curfew.” He countered half-heartedly, nuzzling his face deep into the crook of your neck.
With an eye roll, you tapped the badge on your chest. “Did you already forget I’m a prefect too?”
Tom ignored you and lifted his head slightly to watch your feather scurry across the parchment.
“Why don’t you take a look around? Maybe you will find an interesting book.” You suggested after a while.
When you got no answer, you sighed and wriggled out of his grasp, got up and disappeared between the gloomy bookshelves. You came back five minutes later and handed him a book.
“You told me you were fascinated by such things. I stumbled upon it a week ago.” You looked up at him and smiled.
Tom’s lips curled slightly upwards. Anyone else would have missed it, but not you. Your smile grew even brighter.
You pulled him down to meet his lips for a quick peck before sitting back down on your chair.
“Thank you, darling.”
He sat down casually on the chair next to yours, flipped through the book and flew over most of the pages. After a while, he stopped and began to read with an intrigued expression on his face. He suddenly seemed interested and he immersed himself in the written words. Then he looked up and at you, an expression on his face that Harry didn't like at all.
That must have been the end of the memory, because Harry was back in Dumbledore’s office again. His brain tried to comprehend what just happened.
Voldemort had someone, a person who looked at him as if he put the sun, the moon and the stars onto the sky. And in return, he had kissed this person, had clung to them as if they would disappear if he let them go even for a second.
Harry just met a completely new side of Voldemort, one he never expected to exist, one that was impossible to exist.
Voldemort had been soft. Or at least softer than one might imagine a cold-hearted, loveless and ruthless mass murderer to be. It didn't make any sense.
Dumbledore watched the conflicted expression on his face intently as the wheels kept turning in his head. “I believe you have some questions.”
Harry startled out of his thoughts. “I… Voldemort…” He stumbled over his words, not knowing to which question he wanted to have an answer first. “She was his girlfriend?”
“Yes. (Y/N) (L/N) was, as I already told you, an astounding student. Not only had her fellow Ravenclaws admired her, but almost the entire school. Very honest and responsible. Ideal for the role as a prefect, as you've seen, and later even as Head Girl. It was impossible for Voldemort not to notice her. There had been a rivalry between the two of them from the beginning, as they were fighting for the title best student. As you know, Tom Riddle was a great student with remarkable grades and loved by his teachers and classmates. So was (Y/N), indeed a very gifted and talented witch. However, when he saw there was no possibility for a breakthrough, he charmed his way into her life, but not with a little resistance from her side. She was probably one of the fewer people who were suspicious of him.”
“But she was still with him?”
“She was a 16-year-old girl who fell for the handsome and strange boy who was fascinated by her. A girl like her had many admirers, but he was the only one who could challenge her and was intellectually on par with her. In a way, she was also fascinated by him. Both were an interesting mystery to the other and they were eager to solve it.”
“So he was playing with her?”
“To be honest with you, Harry, I don’t think so.”
“Then what is it?”
“Love.”
Harry looked at Dumbledore as if he had just expelled him from Hogwarts and sent him back to the Dursleys. “But I thought…”
“It wasn’t typical love, the type of love we both know. It was more of a mix of mutual understanding, admiration, trust and something deeper. Just because Voldemort is incapable of loving someone, it doesn’t mean he was emotionless.”
“It’s hard to believe that Voldemort cares for someone else.”
“For someone who didn’t experience him in his school days, it’s easy to say. She had a not insignificant influence on him.” Dumbledore said with a smile before sitting back in his chair.
Harry did the same and asked, “What happened to her? I mean, if she and Voldemort were a couple, she could help us find the Horcruxes! After all, she let you have her memories. Do you know where she is?”
“Unfortunately, Harry, she died a few years ago. The reason for that were, in fact, these memories.” Dumbledore pointed to the remaining vials. “She came to me one year after your parents died.”
Confused, Harry leaned forward in his chair. “Why?”
The older man looked at him over his glasses, his eyes glittering, before looking back at the memory containing vials like it was the most obvious answer.
Harry bit his lower lip, nodding. “Right.”
“However, if you were actually asking about the specific time, then the answer is just as simple. Like some of Voldemort's other followers, she was cautious. Death Eaters were hunted and imprisoned, after all. They also didn’t know if he might come back to reclaim his power. So, she waited a year before she came to me.”
“And she gave you the memories just like that?”
Dumbledore shook his head before he hoisted himself up from his chair, his blackened hand shaking like a leaf in the wind being under so much pressure.
“Not back then, no. At first, she was suspicious of me, considering I could call the authorities the second she stepped on school grounds. Understandable, since she was just as much hunted by the Aurors as the rest of Voldemort’s followers, but I promised her no harm will come to her as long as I live.”
Harry shifted in his seat, a frown on his face. “Why would you do that, Professor? Why would you offer that to someone who was as close to Voldemort as she was? Why would you put someone under your protection who murdered and tortured innocents?”
“And how do you know she did all that, Harry?” Dumbledore asked and his eyes gleamed as he looked sharply at the boy.
Harry, feeling scolded, averted his eyes and merely shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what else to do.
So what if this girl wasn’t like the man who murdered his parents? How should he know? People who were involved with Voldemort were neither good nor innocent. You could have been very well a second Bellatrix.
Dumbledore, who had already taken the second vial and poured the memory into the Pensieve, nodded at his silence and smiled knowingly.
“Don’t view her as any enemy, but as an ally instead.” He said and Harry had to suppress a scoff. “Without her, we would know much less about Voldemort and how to go against him.”
Harry nodded reluctantly and got up from his chair to join Dumbledore again. He looked down at the swirling inky substance that slowly started to take shape and he could already recognize silhouettes of a fire-lit room.
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childotkw · 6 months
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Omg that CS snippet 😭 im dying inside, comooon amazon or whoever, deliver her new laptop! And should be on the house as well! Haha
Btw that healer!Tom, criminal/activist!Harry fic would be amazing 😍 it gives a little hannibal/will vibes to me, would u have any snippets of them meeting for the first time? Or like riddles first impression of him? Arg im in a fanfic drought and need something to keep my life source coming 🥲 love u loads ❤️
I meant to reply to this aaagggeeess ago!! Sorry!!
As for healer!Tom / activist!Harry - don't mind if I do!
--- -- --- -- --- -- ---
“Tilt your head back,” Tom ordered, his voice dropping low in a wholly inappropriate manner for a healer.
The auror next to the door didn’t hear, didn’t know, but Potter certainly did.
Green eyes darkened, pupils blowing wide and ravenous as he did as he was told, tipping his head back and revealing the tantalising stretch of his neck. Tom skimmed his wand along it, watching as the other swallowed and how it made his throat bob, before tapping the tip against the hinge of Potter’s jaw. He pressed hard, revelling in the quiet hiss it got him, and allowed his magic to coat the livid bruise that peeked out from beneath the stubble marring the man’s jawline.
There was a second, illuminated by the soft white of the healing spell, where they just stared at each other.
Potter was a handsome man, he could admit. Rugged and unkempt, with a hint of wildness to his features that reminded Tom of the orphanage. A type of hunger that was all too familiar to him. Hunger for safety, for power, for change.
This one’s dangerous, Tom realised with a spark of delight as he cancelled the spell a touch too early. His gaze darted down, fixing on the fading yellow that remained of the bruise. It would still be tender, and a part of him desperately wanted to press his fingers to the spot, to rake a nail over it and see what other sounds he could tease out from this caged beast.
Speaking of -
“Do they know those aren’t doing anything to contain you?” he asked under his breath, swaying forward an inch under the guise of checking the welt on Potter’s mouth.
He wanted to bite into the wound. Cut it fresh and suck the bead of blood that would well up.
Potter smiled, a quick little thing that broke the scab and had Tom’s attention riveted to the hint of red.
“No,” he whispered back, amused and enjoying it. He shifted his wrists, showing off the warded cuffs. “But they put in so much effort to arrest me, I figured I’d let them have this one.”
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slashhinginghasher · 28 days
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X (2022) but make it reader x 141.
You're trying to break into the adult entertainment industry when you get approached by a niche but successful director. He hands you a script, says he's rented a guest cabin out on a piece of property in the middle of nowhere for a week to film. No fighting for a time slot on some stuffy soundstage, no neighbors for miles which means no shouting evangelical protestors with judging eyes crowding the lot.
It sounds like a dream, a chance to show off your acting skills and not just your ass. This could be your big break. You agree immediately.
The property owner, Price, is some retired military guy. Gruff, doesn't say much after giving the director a firm welcome handshake. Eyes you and your costars but doesn't say anything about hellfire or damnation so you don't mind too much. Tells you all to make yourselves at home but keep clear of the main house unless you get an invitation, stares directly at you with a heavy gaze when he says it like he thinks you, specifically, are gonna be a snoop. Whatever.
The director didn't tell Price you were gonna be filming porn on his property. He's livid when he finds out. Pretty thing like you, flaunting your body in front of a camera to be leered over by any old Tom, Dick, or Harry? Ain't proper. Ain't right. You don't need stardom, what you need is a firm hand to show you your place. If you need to be dicked down good and hard, well, he can do that too. And if you want attention so bad, he can invite his boys over for you to put on a real show.
Such a shame he had to kill your costars to punish them for touching you keep them from running their mouths. After all, how was the director, Nikolai, supposed to know this would happen?
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Share your lastest WIP! If you want 👀
which one 🥲😂😭💀 i have a few - will this do?
~
“They’re quite odd, aren’t they?” 
Abraxas is snickering when he says it. He’s just loud enough to grate - nothing new - but in what should be the quiet sanctity of the library, his tone sufficiently pulls Tom from his reading. 
His eyes lock on Abraxas across from him and flick to the ‘they’ in question. 
And, of course, it’s the Grangers. 
Since entering the magical community, Tom has learned a thing or two about their societal norms. An interesting component being that it is surprisingly challenging to be seen as ‘odd’ here. A wixen can be any number of things: lazy, stupid, poor, muggle - the list goes on, but ‘odd’ is a category used sparingly when directed towards each other. Much unlike the muggles Tom has known and grown his whole life around. 
He was always seen as odd by them - freakish - and continues to be whenever he returns to the orphanage for summer. So he doesn’t much care for the word. 
Besides, if anything, the Grangers aren't even worth gawking over and snickering about. Their worst can be summed up to anti-socialistic, codependent, and exclusionary behaviours - probably a trauma response from the war. They clearly have no interest in playing house with their dormmates or the rest of the school, so why bother?
They are sitting beneath the second-story stair landing where the elves have managed to shove one last table. It’s one of the more tucked away and private places on this level — a place Tom would not consider and will not consider; he needs to be visible, available — and they’ve claimed it like it’s never belonged to anyone else. Like it was placed there just for them. Their ease of acclimation to Hogwarts as a whole has certainly raised some eyebrows, yet still, he isn’t concerned. 
He had also known Hogwarts was his home the moment he had stepped foot in it, after all. He is not so foolish as to believe himself an outlier.
Hermione Granger’s hands are waving wildly, turning in circles and gesturing in a vague sphere-like shape. She’s talking aloud - not that Tom, or anyone else, can hear it - and doesn’t seem to like what she’s saying, given the harsh line between her brows. Ronald Granger is sitting in front of her and starts shaking his head. He says something and reaches across the table to take her wrists — expands them — the sphere becomes an oval.
Harry Granger sits beside them pensive, with his head down and reading carefully from a book in his hands. He starts to turn the page but pauses; he frowns and looks up.
He looks right at Tom.
Granger blinks once, slowly. He mouths something, but it’s not directed towards Tom because his siblings turn to look at him. It only lasts a moment before they suddenly turn around to stare at Tom as well, their eyes wide and alarmed. 
Tom watches on as Harry Granger slouches - maybe sighs? He shakes his head and palms his face in something like dismay. It doesn't take a legilimens to read his lips now—
“You are both such idiots.” He says.
The corner of Tom’s lips curl. It’s possibly a smile. He’ll never call it that out loud.
“Very,” he finally replies to Abraxas.
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sunkissedpages · 10 months
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instead of you [part sixty] || th
pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.
warnings: swearing, angst
word count: 3.1k
“How much longer until we reach it?”
“You’ve asked that six times in the past ten minutes!”
“That’s because no one’s given me an answer!”
“Because no one knows, Harry! None of us have hiked this path before.”
Harry grumbled something behind his brother’s back but he must not have heard it because he didn't argue further. 
The majority of the hike thus far had been uphill, something that the park rangers had neglected to mention when they sent you off into the forest. Thankfully, the mountains and canopy of trees provided some kind of shade but it was still scorching hot. And humid. And you were sweating like crazy. 
Everyone was. Tom had already taken his shirt off and Harry had completely sweat through his. That was probably why he was complaining so much. He refused to take it off, though. Something about not wanting to get sunburned again. 
“You doing okay?” Sam asked, looking over at you. 
The two of you had found yourselves in the middle of the pack for once, walking behind his parents and in front of his brothers. 
“Yeah, fine,” you answered, trying not to sound as out of breath as you felt. 
“Did you bring your inhaler?”
“Um...”
“Why do I even ask?”
-
After fifteen more minutes of walking and a bathroom break, you finally reached the waterfall. 
Harry sighed. “That’s it? We walked all this way for this?” 
“Shut up, Harry,” Sam snapped. “It just looks small from the bridge, it’s not actually that small.”
“I’d say it’s a pretty average size,” you added, “maybe even kind of big.”
Tom laughed behind you. Thankfully, his parents didn’t seem to hear your comment. To be fair to Harry, it wasn’t a huge waterfall. It certainly wasn’t the biggest waterfall in Hawai’i, but it was one of the few that visitors could swim under. That’s what made it so popular. 
And the bridge had made it look smaller than it really was. 
There was an area to rinse off before and after getting in the water so you all took turns under the showerhead. 
Nikki was the only one who didn’t want to swim, which meant that she was stuck with all of the bags. You felt sort of bad when Sam handed over the backpack you were sharing but Nikki assured you that it was fine, that she would rather hold them for you than have you rent one of the rusty lockers to store it in. 
Waimea Falls required everyone to wear a life jacket, regardless of swimming ability. You knew it was a liability thing but you still couldn’t help but shiver when you slung on the cold, wet vest and buckled it around your chest. Who knows how many people had worn it before you today.
Shoes were optional so you left your sandals in the gravel by the bleachers and tiptoed your way back over to the edge of the water. The boys did the same. 
The five of you stood there, staring at the rocks leading down into the lagoon, trying to figure out how to proceed without falling. It was hard to determine the best way in as all of the rocks that were big enough to step on were also either jagged and/or slippery.
“Ladies first,” Harry said unceremoniously.
You glared at him but decided to take a step down anyway. Someone had to go first and since everyone else was being a pussy it might as well be you. You moved at a snail’s pace, trying your best to move in a way that wouldn’t send you tumbling down the incline if you misstepped. 
The rocks seemed stable enough to hold your weight without sliding around in the mud but one of them wobbled under you upon stepping on it, making you nearly lose your balance. 
“Careful!” Sam and Tom shouted at the same time, causing you to turn around and make a face at them both. 
They traded weird looks with each other before turning their attention back to you, who had made significant progress toward the water. By the time you finally reached the edge, the boys had started trekking down behind you, much more haphazardly than you had. 
You extended your leg out in front of you to feel it out, trying not to scream when your toes grazed the water. It was freezing, way colder than you expected, but you knew it would feel incredible once you were fully submerged. It was one of if not the hottest days of the trip and you had sweat through everything. Even the life vest they’d saddled you with was beginning to feel sticky. 
“How is it?” Sam called from behind you. 
“Feels good!” you lied, not trusting yourself to turn around and show him your face. He’d know you were bluffing instantly. 
Since you didn’t want to hold up the line, you took a deep breath and pushed yourself off of the ledge, finding your footing with both feet in the water. The bed of the lagoon was also covered with rocks. They were more slippery than the ones on the path seeing as they were wet and covered with algae so you had to be extra careful. 
You moved away from the shore so that the boys could get in after you. 
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!” was Sam’s shout from behind you.
You turned back to see him submerged up to his waist. He apologized to the people around him for cursing before glaring at you. 
“You little brat!” he muttered, lunging at you.
You let out a yelp as the weight of your best friend dragged you under. You both emerged with dripping hair, laughing and sputtering. 
“You said it felt good!”
“It does! It’s refreshing!”
“It’s cold as fuck,” he muttered, “and you knew that.”
“What, can’t take a little chill?” you taunted.
He splashed you. 
“Are we going to swim over to the waterfall or what?” Tom’s voice echoed from behind you both, sounding annoyed. 
Sam smirked before turning around to face his older brother. 
“We don’t all have to go together. You could have gone on without us.”
Harry was the last to get in, gingerly stepping on the algae-covered rocks to make his way over to the three of you. Dom stayed by the edge, content to keep Nikki company from the water. He claimed to be too old to swim against the current just to get thousands of gallons of water dunked on him. 
“Let’s go, babe,” Sam said, jerking his head over his shoulder in the direction of the waterfall.
Swimming to the base of the waterfall proved to be a lot more difficult than it looked. The current was strong and moving against it required a lot of effort. People who weren’t strong swimmers had no chance of making it all the way under. 
It was doable for you, but not without struggle. The boys seemed to be in the same boat, save for Tom, who was the fittest out of all of you. He was already several strokes ahead of the rest of you when Sam called out for him to wait up. He paused and tread water while he waited for you and the twins to catch up. 
“I thought we were going together,” Harry panted bitterly. 
“Not my fault you guys are slow,” he rebutted. 
“Maybe we should hold hands,” Sam suggested and pointed to another family who was making significantly more progress. “They’re doing it.”
“You think that’s going to work?” you asked. 
“Yeah, how do we know you guys aren’t just going to hold me back?”
Harry clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Tom-”
“You could stand to pull some more way, Spider-man,” Sam pointed out.
“Tsk, fine. How should we do this?”
Tom obviously helmed the line. You were stuck between him and Sam, with Harry bringing up the rear. You didn’t argue about your place in the order but it did feel strange to be holding both Tom and Sam’s hands at the same time. You couldn’t tell whether they felt similarly but you had to assume they did. 
Tom tugged you along and you pulled Sam in turn. They held on to you tightly so as not to lose you in the tide. You tried to focus on keeping your head above the surface instead of the feeling of both of their hands in yours. 
Sam’s hand-holding strategy actually worked and you made it to the waterfall twice as fast as you would have on your own. 
Trying to get under the waterfall was another ordeal. The water pressure was so aggressive that you had to fight against the water in order to get up on the rocks right beneath the stream. 
“This kind of hurts!” Sam shouted over the roaring of the water. 
“Yeah, I think I’m getting bruises!” Tom agreed. 
“You guys are pussies!” you yelled, even though it did hurt and you wouldn’t be surprised if was bruising you. 
“I think Mum is trying to take a picture!” Harry screamed.
Automatically, all four of you posed even though you couldn’t see where Nikki was and you could barely open your eyes under the stream. You grabbed for Sam but got Tom instead, accidentally squeezing his ass in an effort to hold his hand. How you mixed up the person standing beside you and mis-approximated where their wrist was, you didn’t know, but you immediately let go once you realized your mistake and fumbled for the right person’s hand instead. 
If Sam noticed what happened, he didn’t say anything about it. Tom definitely did notice and you could see him trying not to laugh out of the corner of your eye. 
“Should we swim back now?” one of the boys, you weren’t sure which, asked after you had stood there for what felt long enough for their mother to have snapped a couple of photos. 
“You guys can, I think y/n and I are going to swim around by ourselves for a bit longer.”
That was news to you but you weren’t necessarily upset about it. You hadn’t been in the water for long anyway and you wanted to make the most of it. And if Sam wanted to be alone with you, you weren’t going to say no. 
Your number one priority was winning him back, making it up to him, as much as you could. 
You followed Sam to a secluded part of the pool, letting him tug you along as you floated on your back. Tom and Harry either got out or fucked off to another part of the lagoon. You weren’t paying attention when you split up and you weren’t about to look for them. 
“Did you want to talk about something?” you asked your best friend. 
“No, just wanted some space from my brothers.”
“Oh, ok.”
“Did you want to talk about something?” he parroted. 
You made a face. “No, unless you’ve changed your mind.”
You could tell he knew what you referring to immediately from the way his expression shifted. 
“Not here, yeah?”
You nodded in agreement. He was right, you should have that conversation somewhere private. Still, you took his answer as a good sign. ‘Not here’ implied that there was somewhere that you would have that conversation, which meant that he was willing to have it. You counted that as a win. A very small win, but a win nonetheless. 
“What?” Sam asked, squinting at you through the sunlight. 
“Huh?”
“What’s got you smiling like that? What’s on your mind?”
You hadn’t realized you were smiling until he pointed it out. 
“Just happy to be here with you.”
-
You had dinner at some famous burger place that night. You were too tired to pay much attention to what you were eating or what everyone was talking about but you’re pretty sure the food tasted good. 
The restaurant was in the middle of their dinner rush when your party arrived so you had to wait for a table. There was a small surf shop attached to the same building so you went with the boys to check it out while Nikki and Dom scoped out somewhere to sit. Everything was expensive so no one bought anything but window shopping kept you occupied for the time being. 
After dinner, you rode with Sam’s parents back to the resort. He seemed indifferent to your presence this time, which you took as another win. He held your hand in the back seat and you rested your head on his shoulder. Neither of you fell asleep but you kept your eyes closed, enjoying the silence.
“We’re here, kids,” Nikki said softly once Dom had parked in the lot.
Sam stretched, forcing you to sit up too. You thanked them for the ride, and for dinner since they paid, before Sam asked if you wanted to take a walk on the beach. 
“Sure, let’s go.”
He led you by the hand through the maze of buildings to the hotel’s beach entrance. You passed other couples as you strolled past the pool and the firepits and it made your heart sink a little. You were jealous of them. Jealous that they could enjoy each other’s company out in the open like that. Jealous that they looked so happy. Jealous that they weren’t sacrificing one relationship for another. 
You were definitely projecting, they absolutely could have been in the same situation as you and you would never know but you refused to acknowledge that possibility because you were resolute on feeling bitter. 
The sun hadn’t fully set yet despite the late hour. Being that it was still the middle of summer, it wouldn’t get dark until much later than usual. You were also convinced that daylight lingered longer in Hawai’i than it did in other places but you had no evidence to back that up. 
“Here, I’ll carry your shoes for you,” Sam offered, holding out his free hand for them. 
You paused. “Oh, are you sure?”
“Yeah, I know you don’t like the feeling of sand in your shoes.”
“Thank you.”
You bent down to undo your sandals and handed them to Sam. He looped the straps around two of his fingers and resumed holding your hand. 
The sand was still warm, holding on to the heat of the day. 
“Are we going all the way down to the water?” you asked. 
“If you want to,” Sam answered. 
“I don’t really feel like getting wet again.”
“That’s fine with me.”
You settled for walking along the outline of the tide where the sand was still dry. You followed the curves of the waves from hours past, tracing the remnants of high tide with your arms out like you were walking on a tightrope. Sam trailed behind you for a few moments before catching up with you again. 
You had pulled your hand out of his grasp moments earlier to run ahead, distracted by the seafoam in the distance. You waited for him and put your arms back by your sides. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ditch you,” you sighed when he reappeared at your side. 
“I know,” he replied. 
Instead of offering you his hand this time, he gave you his elbow. You took it gently, resting your hand on his bicep. 
He was uncharacteristically quiet. You wondered what was on his mind. When he invited you down here, you thought it would be to talk, to finally have that conversation. Maybe it had been and he changed his mind. Or maybe it had never been his intention in the first place. 
You were starting to think you’d never get an answer when he finally spoke. 
“I’m sorry for what I said.”
You tensed but kept walking, not wanting to confront whatever expression might be on Sam’s face. If you stopped, you would have to look at him or stare at the ground. If you continued walking, you could just look straight. 
“I... didn’t mean that shit... about wishing I never met you. Or any of it really. I wanted to mean it. But I couldn’t, because none of it’s true. I was just really hurt. I still am, to be honest.”
“I understand,” you responded. 
“I want us to move past this,” he continued, “but it still feels really fresh. I mean, I only found out about you and Tom a few days ago.”
You nodded as you listened. He was right. It had only been a handful of days even though it felt like an eternity. Being at odds with Sam was hell. He was your best friend, after all. You had lived life with him by your side for the past four years. You didn’t want to imagine what that would look like without him. 
“Right.”
He cocked his head to the side, lost in thought. 
“I’m sorry too,” you added, wanting to reiterate just how shitty you felt about the whole thing. 
“I know,” he said softly. “I know you are. I knew you were then too. I’m sorry for invalidating your apology-”
“Don’t be!” you interrupted. “My actions and my words... they don’t add up. I would’ve thought I was bullshitting too.”  
Sam forced a laugh. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy to wrap my head around. But I get it, I think. There’s just something about Tom, isn’t there?” 
You snuck a glance at him but didn’t say anything. You had a feeling it was a rhetorical question. 
“You must have been miserable this whole time. Trying to push down your feelings for him and then finally acting on them but being consumed by guilt when you finally do.”
“It hasn’t been the best,” you admitted, “but it’s my own fault.”
“Not entirely,” Sam reasoned. 
You were surprised he was coming to your defense but you figured he’d go up to bat for anyone if it was against Tom. 
“Enough of it is.”
Your best friend shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like you’re known for your decision-making skills.”
You scoffed and nudged him with your shoulder. He laughed a real laugh for the first time in days. You had missed hearing it. It made you smile too. You rested your head on his shoulder and for once it felt natural. 
“I really am sorry, Sammy,” you sighed, your voice wavering. 
“I know. I can’t pretend that I’m over it... but I will be. I also know that I can’t ask you to end things with him...”
“You can-”
“No,” he murmured. “I can’t. You would resent me for it.” You opened your mouth to protest but Sam shook his head and you closed it again. “You would. Maybe unconsciously, but you would. Things wouldn’t be the same.”
“Things won’t be the same if I don’t end things with him,” you pointed out.
“I know,” he agreed solemnly. Then he sighed as if it was something he had already come to terms with. “But you’ll still love me the same. And that’s enough.”
this one made me emo to write but I hope you enjoyed it lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!
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carosbee · 3 months
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Super Serious Fanfiction
The battle was chaos: witches, wizards and all sorts raced through the castle, its defenders weary and tired as they protected the place they’d all called home. Voldemort loomed over it all, intermittently broadcasting the screams of the last teenager to get in his way across the entire castle. Screams rang in Harry’s ears, deaths he’d caused by not giving himself up. The more it went on, the more bodies piled up in every corner, the guiltier Harry felt.
“Foolish boy.” Voldemort hissed, staring intensely at Harry as he brushed off ten different attacks, “How many lives will you use as a shield?”
“None,” Harry admitted and a memory stirred in him, one so crucial. It was the day of his first kiss with Cho. The experience had not been pleasant for either of them but at least Cho could appreciate it as a kiss. He- He was gay, wasn’t he? And hadn’t sixteen year old Tom been so hot??
“Tom,” Harry began, “With me I carry the power of love, and I love you. Stand down, Tom, and I can give you more love than you’ve ever experienced in a lifetime in one night.”
Voldemort was clearly taken aback, so much so that he fell to the ground and impaled himself on a piece of rubble. Blood poured down his neck and in that moment he looked almost like a dying baby snake. In a few short seconds, Lord Voldemort was dead, vanquished forever.
“That worked?!” Ron shouted, and Harry didn’t feel like a hero.
“NO! I really loved him, Ron! I wanted to shag voldemort!” Harry pleaded, curling up already into a foetal position.
Madam Pomphery quickly spelled him asleep, assuming the boy to be under the influence. This was not the first time Harry Potter would need to fall asleep and was the beginning of a very long stay in St. Mungo’s that would continue to the end of his life, by which time Archive of Our Own existed and Harry was able to finally find peace in his Harrymort fanfiction.
The end.
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bleh-bleh-blehs · 2 months
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Hello, I am writing for HP fandom for first time. Hope you guys like it.
This is my headcanon for Jily live au. Voldemort didn’t exist, tom riddle did, he just didn’t become Voldemort. (But that’s a story for another time)
I still have no idea what to do with Peter though. I don’t know how to include him. Let’s just forget about him altogether.
Also I ship canon ships only.
Time for some headcanon now:—
James was torn between what career to choose after hogwarts. Stuck between pursing his passion for quidditch or opt for some other mature field.
Lily assured him that she would’ve fine with whatever he chooses. No career is lesser important of mature or not.
Lily decides she wants to be a potioneer, brew and develop new potions ranging from medical health to cosmetics.
She later develops a potion that helps werewolves. Helps them to gains more control over their body during full moon and reduces their pain.
They get married young and have baby Harry just like canon.
However, Harry is not planned at all (they are not at the brink of the war, they don’t need to move fast).
James wants to quit Being star chaser (Sirius also followed him and became a professional player) and be with Harry all the time so Lily can focus on her career.
Remus reassures them that he can babysit Harry all the time. With James’ busy schedule and Lily’s work.
He doesn’t have any job anyway because of the discrimination against werewolves
Both Lily and James are not eager to give Harry a sibling any soon, which results in 10 years age difference between Harry and his baby sister.
Jily’s second child is a baby girl named Rose. (Cliche. I know. Sue me)
If you thought Harry being spoiled for being only child between three best friends. Think how spoiled will the Only Girl child would be.
Baby Rosie is spoiled. By her father (man is wrapped around her tiny fingers), her brother and by her uncles.
Lily would buy all those cute dresses to dress up her baby girl because Harry managed to ruin his clothes all the time.
Lily taking Rose out on girl dates because there is just too much testosterone in the house.
And Harry. Oh he loves his sister. His parents had to physically remove him from nursery because the boy would spend whole night staring at his sister rather than sleeping.
His routine was to check Rose the first thing the morning and then bid her good night before sleeping.
He was friends with Neville before he was friends with Ron.
But Ron would still be his best friend.
Remus joins Hogwarts few years prior to Harry’s first years.
Lily’s potion had helped many werewolves.
James left quidditch and became a stay-at-home dad when Lily was pregnant with their daughter.
Sirius still continued to be a player for a while before retiring.
Both James and Sirius became head of their family and took their family’s seats in ministry (Sirius was reluctant but James convinced that they could put their foot down and make changes that would help to shape new wizarding world)
Regulus continued his perfect son persona until he couldn’t. He finally snapped and ran away from the family.
Okay that’s it for now. I hope you liked it. Please like and share your thoughts!!!
Maybe we can discuss further headcanons in future
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rocknrollbabe14 · 2 years
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Another Sad Love Song (Tom Grant x Reader)
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Rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Warning: Cursing, depressing behaviors such as not eating, not cleaning, and not sleeping, Tom is very wounded in this fic as well as his manhood,  drunk unprotected sex (however the reader is on birth control and consent is mutual), angst, harsh words?, regret? Let me know if I missed anything!
I didn’t proof read this so if there’s any mistakes, please forgive me. Maybe he will get a 2nd part??
Your cab ride to Cornwall was long, grueling. You stared down at your hands. It had been awhile since you had seen him. Not that you didn’t want to see him or couldn’t see him. He often wrote you or called you every now and then to check in. Last you had heard Ruth was coming to see him. Ruth was his long time girlfriend of three years. You knew it would be good for him. It was hard for him to be apart from her, often detailing in letters how much he missed her. 
You decided early on into their relationship, you’d give him space. You told him you’d always be there for him. No matter what happened. However, you also knew what a girl best friend could do to a budding relationship. He understood, but reminded you that you all had been friends way before Ruth had came into the picture. You didn’t back down on your stance. 
You remembered the phone call you’d received just last week. 
“Y/N…”, a familiar voiced sobbed on the other end of the line.  
It was borderline sad but you also heard the anger laced in your name. You almost dropped the phone, tightening your grip on it quickly.
“Tom?”, you asked, surprise evident in your voice. 
“Fuck.”, he cussed, desperation coming out in his voice.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is Ruth okay?”, you asked quickly. 
You had met Ruth several times. You and Tom would go on double dates during high school, bringing Ruth and whoever you decided to take out at the time. There were a few different ones—Adam, George, Harry. None stellar enough to knock you off your feet. Ruth would barely speak to you, acing as if she was jealous of you. It had taken you aback, even surprising Tom.
“She fuckin’ cheated on me.”, you could hear him gritting his teeth.
“What?”, you asked, not sure you had heard him correctly.
“She—fuckin’—cheated—on—me, Y/N.”, he spoke slower, his voice breaking. 
“Oh—Tom. I’m so sorry.”
Ruth may not have had your total seal of approval but you didn’t want her to wreck Tom and hurt him.  That’s why you didn’t butt in or give your true opinion on certain matters. You didn’t want their breakup or fights to be blamed on you. But this puzzled you—they had hardly ever fought to your knowledge. Tom was silent on the other end of the line, something you weren’t used to. He usually joked with you and asked how things were back home.
“Tom?”
“I can’t fuckin’ believe this.”, he muttered. 
Your heart sank. Tom was always light-hearted, fun, and easy-going. He would do anything for anyone.  It was so odd to hear him so upset. You were unsure what had happened just in a few short weeks since Ruth’s arrival. What had went so wrong? Which guy had she cheated with? Tom mentioned his friend Kai often, but surely Ruth wouldn’t have cheated on him with someone he worked with. Or would she? 
“When can you be here?”, Tom asked sadly.
“Um….let me check my schedule.”, you sighed, looking to your refrigerator. 
The other end of the line was silent as you went through the days. 
"Friday?”
“You’ll come? Please. I just need you.”, Tom asked, sniffling.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. 
“Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Has Ruth left?”, you asked, leaning against your countertop. 
“Yes.”, his voice cracked again. 
It killed you to see Tom like this. He was your best friend. Through everything you all had still remained friends. 
“It’s not because of me, is it? The letters and phone calls?”
“No.”, Tom answered easily. 
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Y/N. I’m sure.”
He was a little more firm with his answer and you decided to drop it. You all finalized plans for you to come out. You would come Friday. You were off from work and it would be the best day to see him. You were going to worry about him up until that point but it was out of your hands.
You paid your cab fare. It was morning. It was foggy and dreary outside. You could already hear the waves crashing against the shore. Tom had told you exactly which trailer he lived in. It was windy which caused your to pull your jacket tighter. You passed trailer upon trailer before coming to Tom’s. In your mind, you wondered who all stayed or lived here.  
You walked up the small steps, eyeing the door. You knocked gently. No answer. Your brow furrowed in confusion. Tom said he was off from work today. He worked on the property maintaining the trailer park. Did something go wrong and they asked him to work? You knocked again a little louder this time. There wasn’t an answer immediately. You were about to try the knob when the door opened unexpectedly, causing you to jump back, a small squeal escaping you.
“Tom.”, you breathed.
He was shirtless with just pajama pants on. His necklace around his neck. You took him in. It had been a long time since you’d last laid eyes on him. He looked like he had lost a little weight. You gulped down any more of a response.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”, he rubbed his eyes before he rubbed his face. 
Tom looked tired, exhausted to put it nicely. He looked like he had barely slept in days. You were sure your face was full of concern. 
“It’s okay. How have you been, Tom?”, you replaced your look of concern with the same smile he was used to seeing. 
“Makin’ it.”, he responded, giving you the saddest smile you’d ever seen.
You nodded easily, rain beginning to fall.
“Come in, (Y/ Nick Name).”, he moved aside.
You cleared his doorway. You could see straight down the hallway to his bedroom. His bed was unmade, like he had just climbed out of it. You weren’t blaming him if he had. It was just surprising to you. You looked around, taking it all in. 
“Sorry, I just woke up.”, he apologized, sitting down on his couch. 
“It’s fine.”, you slid your coat off easily, laying it down on the chair before taking a seat beside him.
Your eyes immediately panned to Ruth’s pile of things—she clearly had left. Your heart instantly sank into your stomach. Tom must have noticed what had caught your attention.
“She’s not-not here. I just haven’t been able to return her things.”, he sighed, his brown eyes on you.
“Where is she?”, you asked quietly, treading lightly on the subject. 
“Somewhere here.”, he muttered. 
It took you a minute to comprehend his words. You wanted to sound caring but not overbearing. You didn’t want to try and pry the information from him. He would give it to you when he was ready. That was your theory. 
You nodded uncomfortably. 
“In the caravan park.”, he specified. 
You nodded again. It must have been one of his coworkers. 
“I see.”
“She cheated on me—with a woman.”, he looked down at his hands before his brows furrowed as if he could cry at any moment. 
“A woman?”, you repeated.
  “Jade.”, he choked out.
Your eyes widened, nodding. 
“Just—I wish she’d told me she didn’t want me instead of fucking a girl I work with.”
You nodded, surprised by the use of his candid language. Tom was visibly still upset that she had cheated on him. That was normal. His manhood had been wounded. He felt as though he was inadequate in all this. But this wasn’t Tom’s fault. It wasn’t his fault that Ruth wanted something different and had felt a connection with Jade. The sooner Tom accepted this fact, the better off he would be. 
“Tom, it’s not your fault.”, you said simply. 
He scoffed at you, eyes narrowing. “How is it not? Should I have moved here? What could I have done different?”
He was exasperated, clearly confused himself. He was trying to make sense of all this. Tom was reading too much into this. You couldn’t really relate to him. You had always been the one to end relationships. Never by cheating but because you weren’t satisfied with them. Currently, you were single. You had been out on a few dates but they hadn’t went anywhere. You didn’t want them to. 
You sighed easily before reaching for his hand.
This was not out of sorts for you both. Physical touch was your all’s love language. It always had been. You both were very close to one another. Looking back, you could see why Ruth was jealous of you. Before she and Tom had grown more serious, you all hung out constantly. When you were together, you all could talk about anything even with Ruth in the room. It appeared he almost completely ignored her while you were around. You’d shove him playfully when he said something stupidly funny. He’d laugh at the contact. 
He eyed you, his eyes softening from your contact. 
“Tom, it’s not your fault. I know you think it is right now. But you moved out here. You told her she could come too. She didn’t want to at the time. There’s nothing you could have done different—except maybe getting rid of me.”
No, this wasn’t Tom’s fault. If anyone was at fault, you were the domino that set all this into motion. You looked down at the floor, your all’s contact not breaking.
Tom sighed before getting agitated at your assumption. “No, no, no. You’re not fucking putting this on yourself.”
You smiled sadly. “Why do you think I backed off?”
Before Ruth came into the picture, there were many nights you’d go over to Tom’s house. His parents often stayed out of town, working. You all would drink a little and fall asleep in bed together. Not sexually just from being hungover and exhausted. Some mornings you’d even wake up with his arms around your waist. He never made moves on you and neither did you on him. You felt safe with Tom. You could trust him. Your parents loved Tom. It was nothing for you to bring him over to your house. At least he’d get a hot dinner. 
Tom eyed you, tears forming in his beautiful brown eyes. “What?”
You eyed him back. “I didn’t want to cause problems between you and Ruth. It’s quite obvious she was jealous of me. And, well, I didn’t want to ruin your relationship.”
Tom looked down, nodding, eyeing the floor of his trailer. “And who’s here now?”
You perked up easily. You didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. Tom was your best friend. But there was more to this that Tom didn’t exactly know. You weren’t happy in any relationship because they weren’t him—they weren’t Tom Grant.  You were going to tell Tom how you felt about him. You were going to tell him that you knew you both were best friends but you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The answers were already prepared for his possible protests. 
You’d tell him you knew this was risky. You were aware it could ruin your friendship. But he was worth that risk. 
You were silent, eyeing him. There was a knock the came to his door—causing you both to jump. You eyed him as you rose up from the couch. You had silently decided to answer the door in the event it was Ruth or Jade. Tom watched nervously from the couch, peering around you. Your hand shook slightly as you put your hand on the door knob, mentally preparing yourself for who was on the other end.
  Without any more hesitation, you opened the door. A short haired man stood in front of you. 
“Is Tom around?”, he asked easily.
“Who are you?”, you shot back. 
“Kai. And I could ask the same to you.”, he eyed you up and down.
“Y/N. I’m a friend of Tom’s.”
You heard Tom get off the couch, coming behind you. He was so close to you, you felt your breathing hitch. You swallowed down the feeling quickly.
“Ah, there you are,”, he began eyeing Tom. “This one’s much prettier. Where have you kept her hiding?”
Kai finished with a smile but Tom was frowning. 
“Don’t talk about her like that—she’s not some object.”
You could see the fire in Tom’s brown eyes. 
“Always so defensive here lately. I’m just saying she’s prettier.”
There appeared to be some unresolved tension in the air among them. If you had a knife, you could have cut the tension. You looked down nervously. 
Tom sighed, quickly resolving his anger. “What do you want, Kai?”
“Look, mate I’m just saying I’m sorry I was right about Ruth.”
Tom looked up at Kai, visibly annoyed at his words. “Did ya come here to brag?”
Kai eyed him. “No. I am sorry, Tom. But you’re better off without her.”
Tom looked back at you. “Do you care to give us a minute?”
You shook your head easily. Tom grabbed his hoodie from the couch as he closed the door behind him. Tom and Kai stood at outside. You went to the kitchen, looking out the kitchen window. Tom and Kai were talking. Things appeared to be under control for now. You hoped they stayed that way. Maybe you could be nice and make breakfast for Tom. You went over to the fridge. There was barely anything inside. What was he eating? There was probably enough to get through breakfast but you’d definitely have to go to the store for him before you left.
Tom came back in, the sound of the door closing causing you to look up. 
“Tom, what have you been eating?”, you asked him easily.
He shrugged. “Haven’t really been eating.”
You eyed him. “Clearly.”
He smiled softly. You grabbed the egg carton in his fridge, checking the date on it. He had a little bit of a small loaf of bread left and you found some bacon that Tom said had only been used a couple days ago. You sat everything out and turned his oven on. He took the hoodie back off, sitting down at the table and sighing. 
“Can I ask?”, you looked at him.
“Kai told me about Ruth. Said she was into Jade. I thought he was just fucking around with me.”
You were digging through his cabinets, trying to find a skillet. “And?”
“Well, one day she came back from the beach, soaking wet. Me and Kai and a few others were working. Jade was with her and she was wearing her jacket. He made a comment and well, we kinda got into a little scuffle.”
You weren’t looking at him. You sat the skillet on the stove before cracking a couple eggs, hearing them sizzle in the pan. 
“I see.”
“I guess I really shouldn’t be mad at him. He was trying to spare me some grief.”
“Trying to be a friend, maybe?”, you asked easily. 
Tom nodded. “I just never saw this coming.”
“Neither did I, honestly.”
Tom was quiet for the next few minutes as you fried the eggs and bacon. You dropped the toast in his toaster as you sat his plate in front of him. You gave him some orange juice, one of the only drinks in his fridge. He looked up at you easily. He looked like a sad, little puppy dog. Your heart ached to see him like this. This wasn’t Tom. Or at least the one you were used to being around. 
You grabbed your plate and cup of orange juice, sitting down across from him. You both ate in silence for the first few minutes. 
“We’ve been talking about me so much.”, he sighed. “What about you? How’s work? Your love life?”
You smirked easily. “Work’s great. I just got a promotion at the office. Love life is non-existent.”
Tom’s eyes widened easily. “Really? Josh is no more?”
Josh had been your latest flavor of the month as you liked to call them. Josh was nice and everything even good-looking, but he wasn’t Tom. 
“No, he was nice and all but we just didn’t have enough chemistry.”, you took a drink of your orange juice. 
“You say that about every guy you’ve dated since high school.”
You nodded. “I guess I’m just hard to please.”
You were hard to please—you wanted Thomas Grant. 
Tom chuckled easily. This was the first time you had seen him laugh since you arrived. It made you smile. If he only knew how you felt about him. Right now wasn’t a good time to tell him—he had loved Ruth. You were sure he still loved her. 
“You’ve always been picky and hard to please.”, he teased lightly. 
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Whatever.”
You both finished breakfast. You were relieved Tom had actually eaten. You cleaned the table up, placing the dishes in his sink among the others. Tom went to his bedroom for a few minutes. You were determined to do his dishes and go to the store before you returned home. You eyed Ruth’s stuff in the corner. Was Tom planning on her coming and getting them or taking them to her? You weren’t sure but preferred if she didn’t see you in Tom’s trailer.
You could imagine what she would say. “I always knew you wanted her, Tom.” “Already moving on, huh?” You shook your head, trying to remove the negative thoughts away from your mind. Tom came through dressed in his work pants and black shirt. You eyed him easily.
“Thought you weren’t working today?”, you asked him.
You immediately cursed yourself for your choice of words. You probably sounded nagging like Ruth.
“Just a small job Kai needs help with. I promise I won’t be long.”
You nodded. “Promise?”
“Promise.”, Tom smiled as he outstretched his arms, asking for a hug. 
You leaned in, wrapping both arms around him. He followed suit, wrapping his arms around you. If you could have, you would have melted into him there and then. You had missed feeling his arms around you. Even if it was just for a hug or when you all had fell asleep together. All felt right in the world in this moment. You all pulled away easily, eye contact hanging on as he smiled and walked out the door of his trailer. 
__________________________________________________________________
While Tom was working, you decided to turn on the television at least to have some noise. The quiet was driving you crazy. You had went to his bedroom, noticing he had let his laundry pile up. You grabbed the hamper easily, bringing it to the living room. Tom wasn’t like this normally. You chalked it up to depression. You’d go do his laundry shortly. You stripped his bed, unsure of how long he had let it go. You brought another hamper into the living room. 
You went into his bathroom, tidying up the counter. You hunted for his cleaning supplies, beginning to clean his bathroom. You threw your hair up with the ponytail holder you had on your wrist. Once finished with the bathroom, you moved on to his bedroom. You straightened things up, careful not to go through his stuff. You wanted to respect his privacy. 
Next, you moved into the kitchen. You washed all his dishes he had. You wiped his counters and table off. You slid your coat back on, grabbing the hamper with his bedding first. You closed his door and sat out to find the laundromat on site. It wasn’t too hard to find. You started his bedding before heading back to get his work clothes. You made quick work of doing his laundry, multitasking them. 
You put the sheets and comforter back on Tom’s bed. You were in the process of hanging up his clothes when he came through the door. 
“Y/N?”, he asked, not immediately seeing you.
“I’m in here!”, you called out from his bedroom. 
He walked in the doorway to see you hanging his work clothes up. 
“You didn’t have to do that.”, he began easily.
“It’s okay, Tom. I’m only here for a day so I thought I’d make myself useful.”, you smiled back at him.
You already dreading leaving Tom. You had missed him a lot. One day just wasn’t enough time to catch up and spend with him.
His head dropped at your words. “Do you have to leave so soon?”
Your heart skipped a beat. “I didn’t bring any clothes or makeup.”, you smiled sheepishly.
“You can have one of my shirts to sleep in and we can launder your clothes and you don’t need makeup.”, he eyed you.
“And just where am I gonna sleep?”, you smirked at him, trying to ignore the thought of sleeping in his shirt.
“My bed…I can go to the couch if you feel more comfortable.”, he offered. 
“Are you sure, Tom?”
He nodded. “I have missed you, Y/N.”
You smirked. “Well, we definitely have to go to the store.”
______________________________________________________________________
Later that evening, you and Tom took a cab out to the nearest town to grab some groceries from the store. Tom seemed to slightly be returning back to himself. You knew it was going to take more time, but even seeing him slightly joke and smile made you feel better. You all bought enough for the weekend and you offered to make Tom some easy meals he could just warm up.
Tom asked if you wanted some alcohol. He chose some beer while you chose some fruity seltzers, not able to handle the beer. You all arrived back at his trailer. He had Saturday off as well. He had informed you if that when you all were on your way back in the cab.  You both put the groceries away. For a moment, it felt like you two were more than just friends. You both were smiling, making small jokes. A lot like old times.
You all wasted no time in cracking open the alcohol. You all turned on the radio, continuing to drink and talk. Tom stood up after getting three beers in his system, beginning to dance. You began giggling, taking another sip and finishing off your second drink. Tom was smiling from ear to ear, clearly feeling himself. Hell, so were you. You got up from the couch, joining him. 
You both were laughing, Tom twirling you around. It was late. Almost midnight. But you all had lost all concept of time. All you were focused on was each other. 
“I need a shower.”, you said randomly, sure it was the alcohol talking. 
“Go shower.”, he smiled. 
You smirked at him. “What am I gonna wear?”
“This.”, he smiled as he dug through his drawers, tossing a t-shirt to you. 
You caught it easily before slipping off into the bathroom. You eyed yourself in the mirror. You were definitely a little wasted. You laid his t-shirt on the counter top before stripping your clothes off, tossing them on his floor. You turned the hot water on, letting the shower warm up before climbing in. You felt your eyes closing, ready to be warm. You stepped in easily, feeling the warm water rush over your skin. Luckily, Ruth forgot her shampoo and you didn’t mind to use Tom’s body wash. At least you’d smell like him.
Just as you were about to grab her shampoo, you felt a presence. You opened your eyes to see Tom standing there. 
“Tom!”, you squealed easily. 
“Sorry I just wanted to make sure you made it in the shower.”
“It’s fine.”, you eyed him easily. 
You saw his eyes widened, taking in your body. “Fuck.”
“What?”, you asked him easily. 
“Just—I’ve NEVER seen you na-”
“Naked?”, you finished for him.
He nodded.
You smirked easily. 
“Ruth always accused me of fuckin’ around with you.”, he eyed you.
“Can I tell you something stupid?’, you smirked.
If you weren’t drunk you would have never told Tom what you were about to tell him. Looking back, you weren’t sure if it was smart or not. Why were you going to confess this in the middle of a shower, naked in front of Tom? You had no idea. 
“Nothing’s stupid when it comes to you.”, Tom smiled.
You felt your cheeks grow warm. “Well, I kinda have always liked you. I was gonna tell you how I felt about you but you met Ruth.”
Tom looked slightly surprised. “Really?”
“Really.”
Your faces were inches from one another. Tom’s brown eyes softened and you bit your lip. Steam was rolling out of the shower where you had the door cracked. Without warning, he grabbed your face, bringing you in for a kiss. It didn’t take long for you to realize this was real and not some fever dream, even if you were drunk. You reciprocated his kiss, placing your hands on his shoulders. He didn’t seem to mind they were wet. 
You all deepened the kiss, his hands finding your waist. 
“Can I finish my shower?”, you broke the kiss easily.
“Yes, love. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”, he smiled.
Love. He had never called you that before. You all kissed once more before he headed to the bedroom. You quickly soaped up your hair and washed your body. You rinsed and grabbed the two towels he had laid out for you. You eyed yourself in the foggy mirror. You looked okay. Your eyeliner and mascara had slightly washed down your cheek. You wiped it away quickly before drying your hair as best you could without your hair dryer. 
You felt satisfied and finished drying off before sliding Tom’s shirt over your head. It hung down just below your mid thigh. Enough to cover everything up for now. You exited the bathroom and walked back into his bedroom. He heard you enter the bedroom, his eyes immediately shooting up. A smirk was across his face. He was under the comforter, his right hand obviously busy. He was leaned back against the pillow, resting on his left arm. His eyes watched your body, taking you in.
Your mind could only imagine his hand stroking his rock hard cock. You came on his side of the bed. He immediately ceased his actions, opening the comforter up, inviting you in. You obliged. 
“Just fuckin’ look at you in my shirt.”, he breathed as you slid in bed beside him.
You giggled easily. Your buzz was still very apparent. 
“Want to take it off?”, you whispered as he pinned you down on the bed, climbing on top of you. You felt his rock hard cock brush your thigh, causing your stomach to turn and twist deep with desire. 
“Yes.”, he responded breathlessly in your ear, beginning to kiss from your ear down your cheek before landing on your lips. 
You let out a sigh as he reached for the hem of his shirt you were wearing. His finger brushed your legs. You were glad you had shaved the night before. He smirked into the kiss as he brushed his fingers against your skin, teasing you. He knew exactly what he was doing. He brushed your outer thigh before finding your inner thigh, trailing up, causing shivers down your spine. He easily stopped right at your throbbing clit. 
Without warning, he slid two finger deep inside of you causing you to elicit a moan. 
“No panties? You really want this, don’t you?”
You nodded absentmindedly. 
“God, you’re already so fuckin’ wet. How long have you been fantasizing about our first time having sex?”
You looked up at him, shrugging. “A while.”
“How bad do you want it right now?”, he asked.
“Very bad.”
He easily grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off of you, leaving you completely exposed. You felt the chills climb all over your body. 
“Just fuckin’ look at you.”, he groaned easily. 
“Are you gonna put it in me?”, you asked hazily with a love drunk smile.
He nodded, clearly feeling his buzz from both the impending sex and alcohol. He steadied himself, beginning to brush himself against your entrance, teasing you. Your breathing hitched, looking into his deep brown eyes. 
“Tell me what you want.”, he whispered easily barely audible. 
“I want you to fuck me, please.”, you eyed him, whispering back.
He leaned down, you both sharing another passionate kiss. Your hands moved to his head, running your hand through his curls. 
He moaned into your kiss as you felt him line himself up against your wet pussy.
“Guide me in.”, he whispered, breaking the kiss. 
You wasted no time in answering his request. You reached down inbetween you both, grabbing his rock hard cock. You felt him pulse in your hands as your guided him to your entrance. You let go before he began easing himself into you, causing you to grip the bedsheets easily. He was much thicker than you had imagined or expected. You gasped as he finished shoving himself inside. At least even when you were drunk off your ass, you didn’t have to worry about popping a birth control pill. This was the very reason you went to the shot. 
“God, you feel so good.”, he groaned as he began working in and out of you, his pace smooth and steady. 
He was so good at this. God, was he so good at this. He looked down at you, desire burning deep in his brown eyes as he watched you take all of him. It was just the boost of confidence he needed during this time. 
“Do I?”, you smirked groggily. 
He nodded. “Yes, I want you to cum all over my cock.”
Your stomach twisted into a thick knot at his words, causing you to close your eyes, exhaling deeply. He could tell he was easing you right on near an orgasm. He smirked as he continued to thrust into you, each one hitting just the right spot. You gulped down a moan as he ran his free hand that he wasn’t using to steady himself through your hair. He took a fistful of it, twisting it easily causing you to mewl under his touch. 
“Tom.”, you moaned easily.
“Hmmm?”, he hummed, satisfied at how you were faltering under his touch. 
“I’m getting close…..”, you trailed off easily. 
You were close—so close. You didn’t want to admit how quickly your orgasm was going to wash over you under his touch. Your subconscious knew how much you had wanted this—how much you had craved this with him. Now, it was happening. It probably would have been a little better sober but you needed Tom and he needed you. 
“Cum for me, love. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock—right now.”, he groaned, his thrust going deeper if that was even possible. 
You hiccuped a moan with each of his thrusts, realizing you were about to loose your uphill battle. Holding it back was becoming damn near impossible. No other man you had slept with had this effect on you. He had you down for him so badly. He just didn’t know it. Your eyes began closing, your breathing hitching. Tom smirked at the sight, recognizing your impending orgasm was sure to follow. His job was almost done, almost accomplished. 
That’s when your back arched against his mattress the last inkling that your orgasm was coming hard and fast.
“Tom.”, you breathed shakily. 
“Yes?”
“I’m gonna—gonna cu—cum like right now.”, you hiccuped easily.
He smirked, this was the moment he had been waiting for. “Cum for me.”
His words instantly sent you over the edge. You gripped his shoulders, needing something to sink your fingertips into. You moaned out, feeling your release wash over your entire body. You felt your muscles tighten around his cock causing him to close his eyes and his breathing to hitch. It was obvious he wouldn’t be far behind you. Your head felt dizzy and began slightly throbbing from the rush of your high—or maybe the alcohol. You weren’t sure. 
Your chest was heaving, trying to catch your breath and recover. Each time he continued to fuck himself into you, it felt so much more intense. Between hazy eyes, you continued to watch him as he fucked himself into you, his thrusts becoming more sloppy. 
“Are you ready for me to cum?”, he grunted through breaths.
You nodded groggily.
That was all it took for him. He fucked himself into one last time, hitting the spot that made you forget your name. His thrusts ceased, his hips stuttering. His chest was heaving as he felt his cock pumping his cum deep inside of you. You both stared at each other groggily before both your lips twisted into a smile. Once was satisfied he was finished cumming, he slid himself out of you causing you to whimper at the loss of contact. God, did you look spent and it was all thanks to him. 
He pulled the comforter on top of you all, you both laying in bed, trying to make some sense out of what just happened. He smiled over at you. 
“God, that was fuckin’ amazing, Y/N.”
“It was.”, you agreed.
You both leaned in for another kiss before he took you in his arms, just like he always did. Only this time—it was different. It didn’t take long for you both to give into your exhaustion and slip into a stupor from the alcohol consumption. Rain began to fall harder outside, but you both were oblivious as you had created your own storm.
___________________________________________________________________________
The sun was shining through the window, a surprise this time of year in Cornwall. You began to blink your eyes open, feeling your head pounding. You opened your eyes in a panic. You felt just the soft satin material of the comforter against your bare skin. You had no clothes on. Panic immediately rose in your chest as you dared to look beside of you.
There was Tom, his arm still lazily wrapped around your waist. 
“Shit, shit, shit.”, you began to mutter.
You had slept with your best friend while you were drunk. The damage was done. This is not how you intended to tell Tom about your feelings for him.  A nauseating feeling rose in your stomach and you were unsure if it was your nerves or the hangover you had. 
Tom’s eyes fluttered open. He removed his hand from your waist, bring them to his eyes and rubbing them as if it would help him wake up. 
“Y/N?”, he asked easily.
Your eyes shot over to him. He still wasn’t fully conscious in that moment. But it didn’t take long for him to become fully aware of the situation.
“Shit.”, he responded, sitting straight in the bed. “Did we sleep together?”
You sighed. “I think so.”
“Fuck.”, he groaned, rubbing his head.
Your heart sank, realizing this was probably a mistake. He acted like he wasn’t exactly happy this had occurred between you both. 
“I’m sorry.”, you began, feeling a pain in your chest. Your heart physically hurt while you apologized to him.
“How did we? Why did we?”, he began asking.
“I don’t know.”, you answered, meekly. “I think we were drunk.”
Tom groaned. “This was a mistake.”
“A mistake?”, you choked out, repeating his words.
“It can’t happen again. We’re best friends.”, he looked at you, visibly bothered. 
He did think this was a mistake. Your heart sank and it was taking everything in you not to break down. 
“I mean I’m not over Ruth and now I’ve fucked my best friend…..”
He trailed off, clearly in a daze. He was trying to accept the consequences of his actions. 
You scoffed slightly, him oblivious to it. 
You got up from the bed, wrapping the bedsheet around you. You were silent as you went to the bathroom, grabbing your clothes. Tears were burning your eyes as you choked them back. You couldn’t let him see you cry. You wouldn’t let him see you cry. You slid your clothes on, dropping the sheet on his bathroom floor. You didn’t speak to him as you walked back into his bedroom, the only path to the living room. 
“Y/N, we need to talk.”, he said easily, following you.
He was now dressed in pajama pants.
“Just forget it, Tom.”, you sighed as you grabbed your jacket.
“Where are you going?”, he asked.
“Home. Since I’m such a fuckin’ mistake.”
You slid your jacket on, not looking at him.
“Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that—I’m just shocked.”
You rolled your eyes. “How else did you mean it? Look, I am so fuckin’ sorry about this. Believe me, if I could take it back, I would.”
Tom eyed you, clearly becoming exasperated. “Please don’t leave me, Y/N.”
Your heart was breaking in two, listening to him plead with you. But you knew you had fucked up and made a huge mistake. Probably just ruined your friendship with Tom. One of the only people who truly understood you. 
You looked back at him, no response escaping your lips. You had never felt more empty in your entire life. 
You gulped down the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, turning away from him and grabbing the door knob. You took a deep breath, somehow mustering the courage up to walk out the door. It was the hardest thing you’d ever done. 
“So now you’re just going to fuckin’ walk away too?!”, he yelled, tears in his voice.
A tear slid down your cheek as you walked away from Tom Grant, the only man you ever loved.
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isalisewrites · 28 days
Text
SUMMARY:
Tom Riddle wanted one thing and one thing only: to get his hands on the Hufflepuff Cup and the Slytherin Locket. His soul deserved only the best of vessels. Unfortunately, that awful woman gave the founder’s artifacts to a mere magizoologist. How laughable. Newt Scamander was socially awkward, better suited for the animals - a man who could barely look Tom in the eyes and who blushed at the simplest of compliments.
Seducing this Hufflepuff for those artifacts was going to be easy.
Or was he?
Newt. Handsome, rugged, and built to tame his magical creatures. This was a man with secrets. How foolish to trust the outward appearance, for one never knew what beasts lurked beneath the surface. After all… What honey badger doesn’t enjoy a wily snake for a meal?
---
CHAPTER THREE EXCERPT:
Newt looked at him. Tom looked back expectedly.
How do I let him down gently…
“I’m, uh—” Newt’s voice cracked in his throat, the words stuck. “I, uh, well, you see—I don’t think it wise—”
“Wise?”
There were only screams in Newt’s head now. He’d never come across such a persistent person like Tom, not ever before. No one ever took this much interest in him. He was suspicious and flattered and, dear Merlin, he had no idea how to deal with this or how to reply or what choice he should make. What to do? What to do? Try to let him down easy, that’s it. Tom’s company was welcomed, but logistically it couldn’t be done. Simple.
“I suppose…” Newt swallowed. “I suppose company wouldn't be a bad thing, per se…”
Wait, no—That wasn’t what I meant to say!
Tom lit up like the sun at noonday. “Splendid!”
More screams echoed inside Newt’s head. He only smiled in return. He started off again down the sidewalk with Tom now at his side.
“Are you really sure you want to stick around?” asked Newt, hoping to discourage him. “We’ll be traveling the muggle way and it’ll be weeks before we reach our final destination. I hope you didn’t pack too lightly.”
“Weeks? Your final destination isn’t New York, then?” asked Tom, head tilting curiously.
“No, actually, I’m headed to Arizona,” said Newt. “I may have… left that out before.”
“I understand,” said Tom and, thankfully, he didn’t sound hurt. “We’re nearly strangers who shared only a single date with each other.” Newt flushed at the thought. “But why on earth would you travel by muggle means when you could get there so much faster in plenty of other ways?”
“Erm.” Newt averted his gaze. “Let’s just say that the less you know, the less chance you have of incriminating yourself.”
“Oh?” drawled Tom and when Newt chanced a glance up, he saw Tom’s dark eyes light up with mischief and mirth. “Why, Mr. Scamander, I never would’ve pegged you for a rule breaker.”
“It’s… necessary rule breaking,” said Newt in a quiet voice. “No one is getting harmed as long as—”
The clasp on his case popped open.
“Should it be doing that?” asked Tom, narrowing his eyes at the case.
Newt snapped it shut. “It’s fine.”
It snapped back open again.
A slow smile spread across Tom’s face and he drew closer to Newt. “What’s in the case… Newt?”
His eyes…
Newt swallowed, taking a step back. “Nothing.”
“Certainly appears to be something.”
Merlin, this was a problem—this man was a problem.
Tom had followed him, was asking questions, and was looking far too handsome for Newt’s own good. He’d had partners chase him before, but nothing like this. They always lost interest much sooner than this. It was wonderful and terrifying at the same time. He wasn’t sure what to do any more.
Do I even want to turn him away any more?
His hands tightened on the handle of his case. Newt stared at Tom for a good long moment, his mind whirling with too many thoughts and not enough. He inhaled once, looking at those dark eyes that drew him in.
Oh, no…
Maybe I don’t want to turn him away—
As that thought crossed his mind, both clasps on his case snapped at the same time, the case dropping open in one swift motion. Newt cursed softly, just as the niffler raced out; a second later, one of the occamy newborns escaped, too.
“Wait!” cried Newt, trying to shut the case. Dougal popped out before Newt could get it closed, running after the occamy and shimmering out of sight.
Tom blinked.
The case slammed shut, the clasps locking.
“Shit!”
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look-at-the-soul · 2 years
Note
Congrats again on 500, Mar! ☺️💕 What’ll you do with this?? 🤔🤔
(p.s: I’m sorry if I send a few of these in...I just can’t get enough of your writing)
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K you sent me this gif ages ago, and I'm terribly sorry it took this long for me to post, but we can't hurry inspiration right? (And it's better late than ever anyways...) 🥰✨
It got longer than a blurb.
And my biggest thanks to @lyarr24 for the drinking games ideas. :)
⚠️ Drunk Tommy
Drunk on you
 
“Fucking hell.” Tommy mumbled for himself after asking Harry if he had seen you. The answer wasn’t what he had expected as Harry told him you were walking with that bloody carpenter. “Evebody get the fuck out of here!” He barked feeling a sudden anger building inside.
The Garrison went deadly quiet and all the men gathered there started to leave.
Joseph did what he couldn’t; he asked you out. And the fucking walk around the lake was the first step into his courtship. There was nothing he could do, Joseph had a clean record, payed his bills, provided for his old mother, he wouldn’t steal a carrot, and he had the path cleared when he laid his eyes on you.
Tommy couldn’t find a single motive to set his business into fire other than jealousy.
But he couldn’t let you slip away either.
He had met you thanks to Arthur, the memory still fresh in his mind.
His brother accidentally knocked on your door one night completely drunk and after assuring you it was his home, a few minutes later somehow you convinced Arthur to follow you and after being about to stumble a couple of times with his own steps, you made it to Watery Lane with Arthur Shelby mumbling how you were such a good Samaritan, an angel on earth, you tried you get him to stay quiet or at least keep his voice down, but he was so loud that Tommy had to rush outside to help you.
“Tommy?” Harry asked rubbing his fingers nervously against a cloth, unsure of the answer he would get. “I wanted to know if I can head home early, my wife just had our baby and...” but before he could continue, Tommy nodded.
“Sure, Harry... I will close the Garrison.” He answered in a rare kindness spree while Harry’s face lighted up and decided to leave before Tommy could change his mind.
Pouring himself another whiskey, he quickly made a face as the amber liquid burned his throat.
Memories continued to assault his vision as he remembered the scary face you made when he opened the door.
“Mr. Shelby, sorry to bother you but-”
He was startled at first, wasn’t expecting a new face in Birmingham to stop by late at night with his drunkass brother.
“Ah there it is my little brotha!” Arthur pinched his cheeks, earning a dead stare look from him.
“Thank you for not leaving him outside.”
“Tom-mey! This is... Y/N.” Tommy took his brother’s arm and passed it behind his neck to hold his weight. “Whatcha do sunshine?” He started calling her that for her unusual yellow sweater, it reminded him of a sunny day.
“I send telegrams, if you ever need to send one, let me know.” You stated with a half smile.
“I surely will be sending some then, it’s good to know a familiar face that can keep our affairs off the record.” He then winked at you easing your tension.
Watching at the clock, Tommy wondered if he should walk casually in front of your place to see if you were back home.
And what the hell would he say then?
You had been the perfect company after Grace betrayed him, listening to him while he cursed and blamed himself for trusting her, you never accused him or reproached the mistake he made like some of his family members, no... you just listened when he needed it the most, even helped him get his mind back on track, motivating him to use the pain as fuel. But eventually, you found a man that listened to you, it was only fair if he wasted so much time licking his wounds for someone who wasn’t worth it.
“Would you like some tea?” He offered with some effort while holding Arthur, heavier by the minute. “Let me put him to bed and walk you back home, it’s late.”
“You’re a cloud.” Stated Arthur, his eyes almost closed. “Grumpy... and boring.” Then, patting his chest, he added; “but I love you. Where’s the bottle doll?”
“How fucking embarrassing Arthur.” Tommy pulled or more likely dragged him inside. “Accept my apologies.” He added while placing Arthur on a chair. “You must be cold.” In a gentle motion, Tommy placed a chair in front of the fire and started to boil the water.
“This is really not necessary.” You added, feeling so out of place, after listening to the stories going around the leader of the Shelby family, you weren’t sure what to expect when the ruthless gangster was offering you a cup of tea.
“You could’ve kicked him out...” He pointed at the man whose head was hanging against the back of the chair in an uncomfortable position, snoring lightly.
“He wasn’t exactly the typical drunk that falls asleep.” Nope, Arthur knocked about ten times and when he stared shouting you decided to open the door.
Tommy chuckled at that. No, Arthur got pretty loud when he got drunk.
Pouring the tea for you, he stopped for a second. “Thomas Shelby.” He introduced himself, offering his hand at you.
This wasn’t the same man people talked about you soon realized. And from then on, he was nothing but kind and grateful towards you.
That night after moving Arthur to one of the couches, Tommy walked you home. Explaining to you all about the betting shop, the Garrison and asking you questions about the telegrams. You soon started the be part of the blinders as an informant of things that might have interested them. You were able to get cigarettes and booze for free with Polly and Esme, and hang with them at the Garrison private booth.
As part of their close circle, Tommy constantly asked you for help, not only sending telegrams or getting information, somehow you owned some kind of power over him, since he felt comfortable enough around you and ended up sharing some family affairs that were on his mind.
It had been so easy to fall for him, he was kind, smart and genuinely wanted to help his people. But soon you realized Tommy would never see you as something else, deep down he had been hurt by the previous woman and he was completely focused on expanding his business, you could only imagine he decided to throw his heart into the cut, you had to accept Tommy would never look at you with interest, that’s why you accepted Joseph shy invitation for a walk, he started to send randoms telegrams that could never be delivered, until he asked if you had a free day.
 
Frustrated of the way the events turned out, you pushed the doors of the Garrison, only to find it empty except for Tommy, who sat at the high bar contemplating an empty glass. Joseph was a good man, but there was no sparkle, no flame, your heart didn’t get excited or went beating like drum.
“Where’s everybody?” You asked taking off your coat.
“I kicked them out.” He confessed proudly.
Unsure of his motives, you asked cautiously: “Do you want company?”
“How many drinks can you have?” He asked with a smirk. “You want to play a game?” Tommy asked pouring himself another drink. “Bet your day was better than mine.”
The glass was empty in a matter of seconds, his hair hair disheveled, as id he had been running his hands through it.
“I dare you, get a bottle, it’s on the house.” Raising his glass towards you, he then added; “was your date good? With Saint-perfect- Joseph?” He was about to down it, but stopped abruptly.
“Tommy...” He pushed another glass in front of you.
“We could play Ibble Dibble.”He smacked his hand on the surface of the bar. “You know that? Number one ibble-dibble, with zero dibble-ibbles calling number two ibble-dibble with no dibble-ibbles...”
Tommy wasn’t the type of man to do something like that, you wondered how many drinks he actually had. He was always so serious, always planning his next move.
“We need more people to play it.” Would he actually allow other people to mark his face with the black dots?
“You just want an excuse to call your boyfriend.” Tommy snorted and took another sip.
“He’s not my boyfriend Tommy, can we please stop talking about him?”
“No? What’s stopping him?”
There was no use to explain him that. Trying to avoid the subject, you poured yourself some whiskey, frustrated with yourself for ruining such an opportunity with a decent man over someone who wouldn’t look at you twice.
“Mhh?” He found your reflection in the mirror behind the bottles. You were wearing your hair half up, and a lipstick you used on important celebrations, were you really in love with that Joseph?
“Does he make you laugh?”
“What?” You asked surprised, your head snapping in a sharp movement.
 Did he really said that out loud? Shit.
Turning your head to him, Tommy was already looking at you.
“Should we get you home now?” You asked trying to avoid the real answer.
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Tommy thought perhaps it was for the best, if he kept drinking this way, alcohol would make him start speaking and he would be damned if he admitted his feelings for you, you were a good woman and deserved better.
He wasn’t sure of the exact moment when he stared to notice your smile, or the way you placed your hand on your hips while listening to his instructions, but the feeling started to grow naturally, he felt attracted for the way you smiled or the way you said his name. The way you saw things.
Somehow you made him forget about the woman who hurt him in the past, slowly, a little bit more each day with your company and your charm, but ye was scared of hurting such a pure soul.
“Cat got your tongue?” You asked as the two of you finally reached the door, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, he just seemed so lost in thoughts.
Tommy blinked a couple of times, lost of words, the room starting to spin a bit. Woah.
You moved around his house as if it was yours, helping him down you noticed the kettle was ready, so you hurried back to the couch to give him the cup, he would get a terrible headache the following morning, so you placed a bucket on the floor and covered him with one of the coats hanging from the rack.
“Alright, you’re going to regret it tomorrow, but I think you’re all set Tommy.”
Where you officially the save-a-drunk-Shelby?
“Wait.” You thought he would be sleep by now, but he offered you his hand and you took a seat in front of him. “Did you let him kiss you?” You shook your head. “Would you let me kiss you, Y/N?”
The question made your heart skip a beat, his blue eyes seemed clearer suddenly.
“Tommy you’re drunk.”But he silenced you with a finger on your lips, his gaze dancing from your mouth to your eyes and back.
“There’s not a single drunkard that would swallow fire, I’m totally aware of what I’m doing.”
“Oh really? And what exactly are you doing?” You smiled suddenly realizing he pretended to be wasted just to get you to help him.
“What I should’ve done a while ago.”
His hand moved to the back of your head to pull you down towards his lips, they were soft and moved slowly against yours, exploring gently the unknown territory. Not even in his wildest dreams would beat this moment, as your hand came to rest on his jaw.
“How many Ibble Dibbles can you see?” You asked in a whisper after pulling away.
“Not enough.” There was a cocky smile starting to form right before he leaned on his elbow to kiss you one more time. “What did you do to me?” He asked not even waiting for an answer.
Your lips on him felt a thousand times stronger than a glass of whiskey. It was an intoxicating feeling he couldn’t get enough of.
After kissing for what felt like an eternity, Tommy touched your forehead with his, eyes studying your features as his thumb outlined your lower lip.
“I’m drunk on you.”
Sometimes, taking a small risk brings back something bigger.
***
A/N: Drinking game mentioned is Ibble Dibble
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the-dark-lord-chaos · 8 months
Text
Happy belated birthday to Tom Marvolo Riddle
The foyer was dingy and dilapidated as foyers in abandoned houses so often were, and through it footsteps reverberated off the walls, empty as it was, rendered unable to filter out the sound. The Riddle House sat in this echo for a while, and Tom stood and listened as the silence fell after it, prepared to settle again as it had been for the past few decades. His eyes met the rug, and he scuffed a foot across it, dust kicking into the air, joining the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows. They weren’t stained glass the last time he’d been here. An owner from slightly more recent years must have been behind the decision, and Tom was glad that they made it. It suited the place, yes, but it also granted some privacy.
Stood just past the threshold of a place he had never been invited into, he felt like an intruder.
He had been once.
He set his bag down, and the dust that had just begun to settle swam into motion again. He cleared the air with a flick of the wrist, and then the rug too until the color looked warm and untinted.
Softly, there came a knock, and Tom paused, felt a flash of warmfriendwelcome flicker across his awareness, and let the door to the house swing open to reveal the only person that could have known where to find him.
“Harry,” said Tom. He would have been startled many years ago, and then angry. But that was then. Now he felt only a sense of confusion. “What are you doing here?”
Where have you been? he wanted to say. Why now? It felt too much to ask. They had not parted gently. This reappearance was fragile, and Tom refused to be the one to break it, not even to escape a stalemate. There had been a time where Tom was sick of stalemates. They generated boredom generously. It was painful to sit in them for too long, but for this, Tom would.
Harry shrugged. He still hadn’t stepped past the stoop. “I kept thinking you’d cave and I’d wake up to a paper printing about mass murder.”
“I said I wouldn’t,” said Tom.
It didn’t even annoy him anymore, to have to repeat it. The chorus was run. They were at the final bridge.
“I know you did,” said Harry.
They stared at each other, and the quiet felt stronger, less frail, but still Tom waited. He was very good at that, after all this time.
“No more horcruxes?” asked Harry.
“I tried to tell you before you stormed out of this house last time,” said Tom. “I decided I wouldn’t make another one, if it meant you’d stay.”
Even from a distance, Tom could make out how Harry swallowed, blinked, looked away.
“But I left,” said Harry.
This time Tom was the one that shrugged. “I didn’t make one anyway. It didn’t seem…appealing.”
Harry laughed. “That’s… yeah okay, that sounds like you.”
The quiet stretched on, languid now, nearly lavishing.
“Are you going to keep standing there?” asked Tom.
“Are you asking me to leave?”
“I’m asking you to come in.”
Harry did, steps quickening, as if worried Tom would revoke such explicit permission, and closed the door behind him.
“Stained glass,” said Harry.
“I know. Quaint isn’t it?”
“The old ones were drafty as hell.”
Tom snorted, then laughed. “You were barely in here for fifteen minutes and you spent all of that time chewing me out for something I wasn’t even going to make.”
“You’d just committed familicide!”
“Which I still don’t regret,” said Tom, firmly.
Harry made a sharp sound that Tom recognized as a mix of annoyed, fond, and frustrated before it was flattened by a pointedly calming breath.
“Well, you win some and you lose some I guess,” said Harry.
“Is that it?”
A beat.
“Yeah,” said Harry. “Yeah that’s it. Just, you aren’t planning anymore murders, nor are you committing them, are you?”
“No.”
“Well…” said Harry. “Good. History has taught me to take you for your word.”
Tom raised an eyebrow.
“For the things that count, anyway,” said Harry. “I had no reason to believe you before. But I also didn’t have reason to disbelieve you, not here. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.”
“A miracle. An apology with only one cryptic reference to a vague future.”
Harry shoved him a little, scoffing, and Tom relaxed, because that meant they had reached some level of normalcy.
“You had it all figured out by the end anyway,” said Harry.
“I had,” said Tom. He turned toward the direction where he was pretty sure held the kitchen. “But I think I’d like to hear it from you.” He glanced over his shoulder, and caught Harry being uncertain. He offered a hand. “Over a cup of tea perhaps? And then maybe dinner?”
“Oh,” said Harry. “Okay.”
“I'm planning to fix this place up,” said Tom. “I’ll be spending most of my time here. Would you like to help me?”
Would you like to stay?
He felt a flash of happysurpriselove. Harry took his hand.
Harry nodded, then smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
A/N: It has been an age since I’ve posted any writing here! This is just something short I whipped up, so there’s a lot of history that’s eluded to in their conversation, and I have my own ideas with what might have happened, but nothing is set. Feel free to fill in the blanks with your imagination. Enjoy
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childotkw · 1 year
Note
Hi, do you ever think abt Voldie adopting/raising Harry in a purely platonic sense? Or like. Just Voldie & Harry… Acquaintance? Idk, i was gonna say friendship but it feels kinda weird
Anyways, they are so alike that they can vent to each other abt a lot of things, but also so different that they still get some kind of feedback and/or whiplash. What if their groups have an encounter for whatever reason and smth smth it’s completely fine if muggleborns know absolutely nothing abt magic before hogwarts or smthng and both are like “nO!” and stare at each other with the horrible realization that they Loudly Agreed on Something. Publicly.
I’ve just been thinking abt platonic relationships, it’s a weird mood hAHAHAHA
Have a cookie for your patience uvu 🍪 and another one for your service to tomarrymort fans 🍪 jsbfkdbfke anD REGULUS can’t forget Regulus! 🍪
Ooh the good old Voldemort raising Harry trope! 10/10 because it can be crack or angsty as all hell! Even just a friendship would be hilarious to me.
Like, say we do a same-era story, where Tom is the perfect Slytherin student and Harry is the golden boy of Gryffindor. Tom is prim and proper and polite, whereas Harry is rough and roguish and relaxed.
They’re polar opposites in temperament and attitude, and you’d think that that would mean they’d hate each other - but they…don’t??? Tom and Harry get along extremely well, and there’s a lot of respect between them?? Harry is the only one that can get away with being rude to Tom, and Tom is the only one Harry really stops and listens to.
No one knows where this friendship sprung from and half the schools think they’re fucking but they’re not and no one knows what’s happening?????
Harry openly calls Tom his best friend and Tom doesn’t correct him. Tom seeks out Harry’s company and doesn’t treat it like a transaction where he wants something out of it.
And this freaky friendship carries over into the war much to everyone’s confusion.
Tom is Dark Lording his way across Britain. Harry is a top-tier auror. And yet they still hang out casually sometimes and just talk???
Dumbledore keeps trying to pressure Harry into taking down Tom, but Harry is like “I’m chasing the Dark Lord Voldemort not my buddy Tom Riddle” (he absolutely knows who Tom is but there’s no evidence so he can’t just arrest him)
Tom’s followers awkwardly fight around Harry because they don’t actually know what their Lord would do if they hurt his apparent best friend.
Tom and Harry get into debates all the time with each other, and have only had One serious fight between them in the decade they’ve known each other. No one knows the details of their relationship and at this point they’re too scared to say anything.
Their friendship just boggles people.
(And thank you for the cookies!)
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fallingforel · 1 year
Note
prompt 22 with harry styles please?? xx
a/n I really hope you like it, because I personally love this one. also if you would like to request a prompt the list is here.
PROMPT 22: "you smell nice"
It was a casual day for Harry and I we don't have many of these with him being so busy especially with him recently finishing his album and then going straight onto Love On Tour round 2 he had recently finished his american leg, so naturally we were in LA chilling at his house.
"morning beautiful" Harry errupted from my side noticing I had woken up, Harry and I's love language was Tender Touching and loving pet names. So of course this made me blush, even though we had been in an established relationship by now.
"Harry, you have really got stop staring at me while I sleep it's creepy, not to mention how I'm not beautiful" "please you are the most beautiful woman in the world, I would rather have you over anyone any day" "really? even with bedhead? no make up? no eyelashes?" "If I had it my way... you wouldn't need any of that because your at your prettiest when your natural and just lounging around in your hoodie joggers and glasses. I love you so much Y/n and I wish I had you all to myself" chuckling at his answer knowing it simply possibly couldn't be true. "seriously? H that can't possibly be true." "it is and I plan every sense of the way showing you it, for eternity my love"
"stop it your too sweet" I say before scooting over to kiss him to my hearts content with no peeping eyes, to look at us judge us slap our faces on every tabloid imaginable. He reciprocated the kiss putting the same amount if not more love into it, I could really tell that he loved me when I was at my worst and it just proved that he was in it for the long run, I say that like he hasn't been with me for a healthy amount of years.
Breaking from the kiss I ask him "so darling H, what are the plans for today?" "I thought we could take a drive, then go have a nice picnic in the sun just us, mitch and I found the most secluded place the other week, I'd love to take you there sweetheart." "that would be so lovely H, I'd love it. Be nice just us. I've been looking forward to going into hiding for ages" "all in due course my love all in due course. We have to have breakfast first. Yoghurt?" he says adding in the question on the end. "Yoghurt." I say confirming what I wanted. He gets up and I try to follow, "no darling stay here I'll bring it to you" he says coming round to my side of the bed and giving me a chaste kiss on the lips.
And we had yoghurt with honey, raspberries, strawberries and honey. it was so lovely and perfect for the hot weather that comes with living in LA. After we had finished our breakfasts, I went and made my way to go and get changed for our picnic while Harry sorted out which food we were taking and drinks as well which didn't take him too long he then came and joined me upstairs getting ready himself.
Making my way downstairs I see Harry stood at the door looking me up and down. "God you truely are gorgeous" I had gone with the most natural look I thought was possibly considering it was in the 30s of celcius heat and I didn't particularly want to cake myself in a load of makeup. "stop it you" "what? I can't love on my girlfriend?" he asks stepping towards me and putting his hands on my waist moving mine up to go around his shoulders. "yeah, I suppose you can, god you smell nice. What is that? Did you get a new cologne, finally switch out MY gucci one" "HEY! it's not my fault I wanted to smell like you, you also smell good" "mmh sure H. What is it anyway?" "hold on I have it written here in my notes it's called "Tom ford, Tobacco vanille, you should wear it some day" "no thanks I'll stick to my gucci one thank you, god I love you H." "I love you too y/n/n"
a/n I really hope you liked it, because I personally love this one.
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