#(i said diary but the last i only wrote like

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P6

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed, bleeding from the nose.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5-

=

Harry peeled open the pages of the diary, it was half blank-with loads of notes in the first half-all retaining to the classes that Hogwarts offered. “Defense against the dark arts, Charms, Transfiguration,” Harry muttered under his breath as he flipped through the sections of notes.

It was like looking through Hermione's notes folder-everything sectioned off and dated.

“it’s just a diary being used as a notebook Harry, it’s clearly nothing special,” Ron said as they walked to the hospital wing to see Hermione, who was still recovering from the Polyjuice cat incident.

Harry only hummed in response, for some reason he felt the diary was far more than it seemed-even though all that was written in it was notes and silly doodles. He liked the one of the greasy Snape- even the Slytherin girl this book belonged to didn’t like Snape.

“You should give it back to her Harry, it might not have her name clearly its hers, has her name on the front page and everything.” Hermione said quietly as they visited her in the hospital wing, Hermione tapping the first page that had the Slytherin girls name in ink-right below T.M.Riddle's name that was also written in ink.

“Yeah, but the back says it belongs to Tom Riddle, which Ron says has a trophy about some-great thing he did for the school 50 years ago,” Harry said, Hermione snatching the book from him-grabbing her wand from her bag.

“Then maybe he wrote something down in here about the last time the chamber was opened-“ Hermione said and Harry quickly caught up with what she’d realized, eagerly leaning over her shoulder to watch her tap her wand on the diary thrice. “Aparecium!”

When nothing happened, Hermione huffed, grabbing a red eraser from her bag. “It’s a revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley,” Hermione said when Harry gave her a quizzical look. She rubbed the eraser hard on one of the blank pages, but nothing happened, and Hermione huffed.

“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to find in there,” Ron said, crossing his arms. “Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn’t be bothered to keep it, and that Slytherin girl got it 2nd hand.”

-

Harry couldn’t explain why he hadn’t given the diary/notebook back to the Slytherin girl, even after she’d left the hospital wing, he’d overheard Madam Pomfrey tell her to take it easy as the stress from NEWTS and the chamber had made her body go into overdrive.

Harry thought how the girl looked when he’d found her in the bathroom was far worse than stress-she almost looked like she was dying.

He shook the thought out of his head, remembering the haunting look in the girl’s eyes when she’d looked at him, he looked back down at the diary in his hands, letting the blank pages flutter in his hand.

Earlier-Lockhart had hired all those ‘cupid’ dwarves and one had cornered him, singing a crude poem to him from Ginny Weasley, in the process, his book bag had ripped, and ink had gotten everywhere-including the diary.

And yet, the diary had no trace of ink on it, unlike the rest of his books, instead the only thing that remained was the notes. Harry frowned in thought-opening the diary to a blank page and dipping his quill, letting a blot of ink drop onto the page.

After a moment-it sunk into page-leaving not a trace of ink.

And then-before his very eyes-new words began to appear.

‘(y/n)?’

Harry’s eyes went wide, and he nearly jumped out of his chair to go show Ron and Hermione, but instead dipped his quill again.

“I’m sorry no, my names Harry Potter.”

There was a moment before the response but eventually the neat scrawl of the diary appeared.

‘Hello Harry potter. My name is Tom Riddle, how did you come upon my diary?’

Those words began to fade just as Harry had re-dipped his quill and hurriedly wrote back.

“The girl who had it had a seizure or something, she dropped it and I picked it up,”

His words faded and very quickly Tom wrote back to him-almost hurried.

‘(y/n). is she okay?’

“She is, she just got out of the hospital wing, madam Pomfrey said it was from stress.”

‘Very good. Why are you keeping my diary, Harry Potter?’

“I was wondering if you knew anything about the chamber of secrets?”

-

(y/n) practically tore her room apart, looking for Tom’s diary. “well-when did you last have it?” her roommate/friend asked, watching from her bed concerned as (y/n) flipped over her mattress.

“I don’t know! Uhgh-the bathroom, I think? I got all dizzy n shit and the last thing I remember before passing out as throwing my bag to the floor.” (y/n) huffed, tapping her finger in frustration on her bedpost.

“Maybe it’s still in the bathroom then? It could’ve been washed into one of the stalls with all that flooding from moaning myrtle?” her roommate suggested and (y/n) had to concede she might be right.

God Tom was going to be so pissed at her for letting him stew in toilet water for so many days, she’d have to get him more good ink or something to make up for it.

However, the diary wasn’t there.

“Myrtle?” (y/n) asked gently, looking up at the floating ghost girl, who stared at her. “Did my books happen to be picked up when I fell in here last week?”

Myrtle tilted her head in thought and nodded. “Oh yes, Harry Potter picked up that little black book,” Myrtle said faintly, before going back to moaning and groaning about death. (y/n) thanked her and left the bathroom, looking to find potter to see if he’d kept her/Tom’s diary by accident.

She found him and his friends walking through the courtyard, talking about…the chamber of secrets? “Hagrid opened the chamber of secrets 50 years ago,” Harry said quietly to Ron and Hermione.

“Riddle-” That got (y/n)’s attention, had Harry really kept the diary and written in it? Thank god all of hers and Tom’s conversations didn’t stay in the diary, only keeping the notes he rewrote for her. “-might have the wrong person,” said Hermione. “Maybe is some other monster that was attacking people…”

“How many monsters d’you think this place can hold?” Ron asked rhetorically, (y/n) following close behind, hoping to get the diary back from Potter, she felt weird without it, like something was missing.

Merlin maybe she was getting way too attached to Tom.

“We always knew Hagrid had been expelled,” said Harry miserably, “and the attacks must’ve stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn’t have got his award.”

What sort’ve hero stories was the nerd telling the 12-year-olds???

She decided to interrupt their little chat about Tom, the chamber, and Hagrid-wanting the diary back.

“Hello,” she said softly, waving to the three, looking down at them as they froze and turned to face her, though relaxed when they saw it was only her-the girl who had the diary before Harry. “Sorry to interrupt you, but it was brought to my attention that you might still have my notebook? It’s a black leather-bound book with the name Tom Riddle on the back? It has all my notes for the upcoming exams on it and I need it before they start.”

Harry nodded jankily, but didn’t reach into his bag for it. “Uh-yeah, uh, did you know it could write back?” (y/n) tilted her head but nodded.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a personality enchantment, very rare advanced magic.” (y/n) said casually, just wanting the diary back and not to converse with the three for much longer.

“Did he tell you anything about the chamber of secrets?” Harry asked, remembering Riddle's concern for (y/n) and near demands, to be returned to her.

(y/n) shook her head, having never asked. “No, never asked, but he is tutoring me for defense against the dark arts, since Lockhart is… Lockhart.” (y/n) said with a scrunch of her nose and Hermione looked to have half a mind to scold her while the boys just smiled, glad to finally have met a girl who thought Lockhart was just as stupid as they thought he was.

(y/n) just huffed, crossing her arms. “Could I have the diary back? I really do need those notes,” (y/n) asked again and Harry nodded, telling her he was keeping it up in his dorm room and he’d pass it back to her later. She narrowed her eyes a bit, feeling an odd flare of frustration and possessiveness at him for keeping the diary for even longer but pushed it down.

“Thanks,” She said, giving the three a short wave-turning on her heel and heading for her next class.

-

Hours later, almost dinner, she finally got the diary back, Harry handing it back to her-quite reluctantly might she add-but (y/n) didn’t care, clutching the diary close to her side as she thanked Harry and turned to go back to her dorm, moving the diary from her side to her chest.

It felt like a hug as she held it.

She sighed in relief as she stepped into her dorm, pressing her back against the door to close it, letting her head drop to her chest slightly, clutching the diary to her chest.

She really didn’t know why she was attached to the diary/Tom so much, when she didn’t have it/him on hand, it felt…odd, like something important was missing.

(y/n) hopped onto her bed and flipped open the diary, glad to see all the notes Tom had rewritten for her still there. She grabbed her quill and opened her ink well, dipping the tip before pressing it to the page.

“sorry for dropping you in the bathroom :s”

‘(y/n)?’

“yeah, I had some sort of seizure from the stress of the whole, chamber and exams, situation. Got really dizzy and my nose started to bleed really bad, passed out in the second-floor girls' bathroom.”

‘Merlin. Are you okay?’

“I am now, some rest did good for me, Madam Pomfrey told me to keep taking it easy though”

‘I see. No late night chatting with me anymore then.’

(y/n) gasped a bit and sat up, frowning.

“not fair! I like talking to you!”

‘I like talking to you too, but staying up till, merlin knows how late, talking to me isn’t helping your health. So, no more of that until you’re feeling better.’

“fine.”

‘(y/n).’

“I know! Thank you for looking out for me, means a lot. :3”

‘What in Merlin’s beard does :3 mean?’

“it’s a cute smiley face~! :3”

‘Stop it it’s, what’s the word you used? Cringe?’

“hey!”

-

Things finally felt normal again, (y/n) was finally getting some good rest as the months moved from February to May, her DADA tutoring sessions with Tom went pretty well, though once in a while he’d ask if she’d like to have a more-in depth lesson but she always declined, still a little weirded out by the way he could do the whole ‘pull someone into his subspace’ thing.

Plus, last time she’d gotten a nosebleed from the magic strain of it, she didn’t want to have another one.

Since her little-trip-to the hospital wing, the attacks had stopped and everyone else was finally relaxing, the tension finally easing up as the threat of ‘the heir of Slytherin and its monster’ seemed to have its fill and leave.

(y/n) currently was having some trouble with her potions work, her brow furrowed as she looked over her assigned work again and again, but it was just all blurring together in a mesh of nothing. She sighed, dropping her quill and rubbing her face. She needed a break.

She looked down at the diary, seeing she’d gotten a big ink blot on it from dropping her quill, sighing and moving the quill off of it and into the ink well. The ink sunk into the page and Tom’s writing appeared.

‘What was that for?’

“dropped the quill on the page, sorry.”

‘Tired?’

“very, i wanna go take a nap but the quidditch game is today and my friend is no doubt going to drag me off to that and its within the hour, hardly have time to even get up to my room and put my stuff away.”

‘I see.’

‘I could help?’

“how?”

‘If you would allow me, time doesn’t really pass within the diary, you could take a short nap if you wish? I just wouldn’t be able to talk to you for a few days, as I know the last time I pulled you in, it caused immense strain on your magic, and I’d rather avoid that.’

(y/n) hesitated, her quill hovering over the page as Tom’s words faded away.

“you promise it wont hurt me this time?”

‘I promise. Do I have your permission?’

(y/n) looked around the library, glancing at her watch, and then put her quill to the page again.

“you have my permission.”

In the same way as it did the first time, the gutter of the book became a blinding light that seemed to pull her into the diary-and the hands that caught her were even gentler than the first time.

She looked up, seeing the sepia-toned face of Tom Riddle, smirking down at her as he held her steady. She cleared her throat, gently pushing herself up to stand and he chuckled, reaching out his hand to hers. “C’mon, I know a good spot for a nap,” Tom said, and she took his hand, letting him lead her down the diaries Hogwarts halls.

He led her to the Slytherin common room, and she laid down on the big couch that was even comfier than the one in the actual common room, her eyes fluttering closed as a blanket was laid atop her, a cold hand brushing the hair from her face.

-

When she awoke, she was back in the library, sleeping over her books and the diary. She jolted up, checking her watch-only 15 minutes had passed, and yet it felt like she got several hours of sleep. She picked up her quill, writing a quick thank you to Tom before she packed everything up and rushed to her dorm room to change for the quidditch match.

As she went to leave the common room to go to the quidditch match-everyone suddenly crowded in, all looking worried. “What happened?” (y/n) asked her friend who quickly took her by the hand to sit down by the fireplace.

“There was another attack,” her friend whispered and (y/n)’s heart stuttered in her chest, her eyes widening.

“What? Where?” (y/n) gasped, her mouth gaped open.

“The library,”

(y/n)’s heart dropped to her stomach, her hand covering her mouth. She’d just been in the library! Had the attack happened while she was there? Or after she left?? But she was just there!?

“I was just there,” she whispered and (y/n)’s friend frowned, a horrified look growing on her face.

“Oh my god-did you see the petrified students?” (y/n) shook her friend in response, clutching at her stomach as the feeling of missed danger passed over her.

“No, I didn’t, i-I fell asleep while studying,” (y/n) said, which wasn’t a total lie, her face growing paler as she realized how close to danger she’d been, what if the monster had attacked her? How close had the monster been? Had it attacked while she’d been with Tom? Or right after she left?

Snape, the head of Slytherin house, walked through the portrait doorway, holding a scroll in his hands. “Attention, all of you.” Snape said, sounding drearier and more serious than normal. That was freaky, since Snape never panicked about anything. “Due to the recent events, these new rules will be effective immediately. All students will return to their house common rooms by six o’clock every evening. No student is to leave the common rooms after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.”

Many of the students groaned at the very restricting rules. “But no Slytherins have been attacked!” Draco Malfoy complained, and Snape silenced him with a glare.

“We will not be taking those risks, Mr. Malfoy. Any breaking of these rules and you will find yourself back in London before you can even whine.” Snape drawled, pinning the scroll to the common room info board. “And I should tell you, unless the perpetrator behind these attacks is caught, it is likely the school will close.”

With a flare of his robes, Snape dramatically left the Slytherin common room, locking it behind him. Everyone looked at each other, wary that one of them might be the heir of Slytherin-the reason behind the attacks. It was a running joke that Harry Potter was the heir, due to his parseltongue ability, but that’s all it was-a joke.

(y/n), however, was mentally panicking, remembering that odd dream from months ago, remembering herself speaking parseltongue. But she’d also overheard Potter and his friends talking about how Tom told them that Hagrid was the one accused of opening the chamber last time.

And she couldn’t ask Tom to confirm that right now, as he was going to take a rest due to him using his limited magic to keep her from straining her own magic while he kept her in his subspace. She sighed heavily, rubbing her face.

The attack, the double attack, had happened while she’d been in the library, the library was where the attack had happened-and most likely while she’d been asleep.

What if…what if she was the culprit? What if she, unknowingly, was the heir of Slytherin somehow and had been doing things while unconscious?

Merlin that was a terrifying what-if.

She was muggle-born, that was true, but muggleborns had to have some sort of magical lineage in their blood, what if…what if the witch/wizard in her bloodline had been a descendant of Salazar?

Fuck she hoped not.

God, she wished she could talk to Tom right now, he always knew what to say to calm her down when she was spiraling.

Hours later, it was announced Dumbledore had been suspended by the school board and Hagrid had been arrested and sent to Azkaban.

Fuck.

-end of part 6-

man im on a rolllll taglist!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

@kayytt-2 @chimchoom @joyfulnightmare-hq

@theicypiscean

[lonely-night]

is there a way to replace/repair moleskine notebook cover? because mine is starting to like... sheds???

[klara-rosa]

anyway therapy was good today! I was very frustrated after last week's session. It was super uncomfortable and I wanted to cry afterwards (I have literally only cried twice during my entire therapy career). I actually told my current therapist that last week sucked and made me angry and we talked about it and she told me she really wants me to tell her this information in the future. And in general, today was a looot better and more positive and uplifting. We did an exercise in gratefulness and it really helped to kinda flip the coin and make you look at your life from a dofferent angle. I have sooo many negative self-beliefs and rituals I've accumulated over the years and sometimes I forget that a huuuge part of every one of my days is literally dependant on my own attitude and outlook on life in general. So I'll try and incorporate that exercise in my day to day life. Honestly, I left with such a lighter heart today than I did the last couple of weeks and that makes me happy 🥺

[snoopyearss]

When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’

Feat. crybaby-ish!reader

Gojo, geto, toji

Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)

This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.

But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary

Anyway, enjoy!

Satoru Gojo

He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.

Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.

“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?

“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.

Suguru Geto

It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.

You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.

He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”

“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”

“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.

He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.

“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.

“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.

“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”

“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.

“Fuck.”

Part 2

[henza-hex]

My Husband's Secret 4

Edward's POV

Leo came back from work yesterday a little aloof, he didn't talk much and spent most of the time reading something on his phone. I quickly got bored and went to sleep mad that he didn't give me any attention, and woke up even worse now that he's not on the other side of the bed.

I got out of bed and went stomping downstairs, he would hear a lot from me, don't wanna know how busy he was.

When I got to the kitchen, where I heard some noise, I couldn't help but gasp to this view:

Sagging, cheeks almost eating his underwear, and a slobby demeanor. Leo is not usually like this, even in our intimacy, although hot, I found it weird.

While he was trying to find something on the lower shelves, he noticed me.

"Finally youre awake, bro. I'm so hungry this morning that I almost thought of making ny own breakfast." He says, as he makes himself comfortable in the chair, putting his feet on the table. "Now you can make one for me."

I was very outraged. Horny, but mad. What is this? It's like he opened my secret diary and read all my fantasies.

"I'm not your bro, baby! What are you talking about? Can't you make breakfast for yourself?" I ask.

He gets up and look me straight into the eye: "What's the point of having a roomate then?"

When he said that, I got chills. So he was playing that? I remember having a roomate way before I met Leo. He was very hot, but wasn't one straight out of those 'alpha doms' fictions, so I could only imagine... and now finally becoming true? I decided to play along.

"The point of a roomate is to keep this house balanced together!" I say as I knock his feet off the table.

He got out of character just for a second to acknowledge that I got it. That stupid smirk.

He gets up and tower over me. I can only feel his hand grabbing the back of my head, burrying me on his hairy pits. How is he so sweaty this hour in the morning?

"The balance is you beneath me, gotcha? If I cook our breakfast, you are eating it straight of my feet." He said in a dominating tone.

Ugh. The same time his pits are warm and damp, I nodded with my head in agreement, cause the stink was too much.

"Good boy. Eggs, bacon, and milk."

"But you-"

"Don't wanna hear about my intolerance, or else youre down to the pits again."

I made our breakfast while he waited scratching his balls.

"Not gonna wash it?" I asked just to tease, and recieved a smash of his hands on my face.

"Clean, haha." He mocked and started to eat. Before I could grab anything, he took my plate too, and that left me a little pissed... play or not, I had to eat.

"Hey! That was mine!" I said with some anger this time. He completely ignored me, and finished his meal by chugging the glass of milk.

EEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

He shamelessly belched, patting his belly. "Oh, you want some? Here." In a quick move, he got up and turned around, taking advantage that I was sat, and my face was on the level of his ass. Hos cheeks molded all over my face, as he rubbed it to try to pry my mouth open.

"Eat that... HNNNG-"

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

RIght on my mouth. It rumbled deeply by it's bassiness, and I can't even start with the taste. Terrible. I gagged and suffocated, passing out slowly, the last words I heard were: "Bon appetit, loser haha."

Leo's POV

It worked! Now quick, before he wakes up, I need to get the next character ready...

I was never a bully, but yesterday I found his old diary, and he wrote about that a lot, luckily I practiced some sports and still have some of my team's old gear... at least smells like it's not washed since high school too, good lord.

I check myself on the mirror, and those are so tight too, got so much bigger. Pretty sure he will love it.

I come back to where I left him and see that he is waking up. Think of something bully-ish...

OOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!

I easily rip a monstruous belch that takes him out of this lazy state in a second. Aa he opens his eyes, I make sure this the first thing he sees:

"Where am I?" He loosely asked.

"Where are you? In the locker room, loser. Now begin to do your job and sniff it!" I didn't give time for him to respond, I did. I sat on his face, full on his face. It kinda felt good to sense his nose finding his way into my crack, speacilly that I know he is secretely taking a big whiff of that... I could get used to this.

"Yeeah, take a big whiff of that..." I said as I felt my stomach churn wildly because of my earlier breakfast. Now was time for his real lunch.

HNNG.... FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTT... it bubbled and rumbled so disgustingly that I felt bad for his poor face.

Me, not the bully Leo. "No, no, no, I got a lot more..." I said as I refused to give him a breath of fresh air and push another nasty one... PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBFFFFTTTT...

I lifted my ass a little just to have a look at his face and see if he is alright. Sweating, teary eyed, red from suffocating, and even though he managed to wink at me. Top tier bastard.

He was about to say something, and bully Leo took control. I descended my ass on his face again, and...

"Shouldn't have kept your mouth open, loser..." I enjoyed his feeble attempts to take me off of him, as I knew the next one was going to ne serious, I clenched my fists, closed my eyes and pushed real hard

"FART BOMB!" PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Edward's POV

The last one felt like a punch, I'm never feeding him milk and eggs at the morning, I fear for my life. But let me ask again...

"Where am I?" I hear footsteps into the room, and he comes in... now in a suit. I'm sure he wants to kill me.

"Mr. Rogers, you failed the last exam. I'm afraid I'll have to punish you."

"P-punish me? But I can assure you I'll study harder fir the next one, please!"

"If you get the answers right, I won't inflict you any punishment."

"But if I get it wrong?" I knew the answer and of course had to ask. He slowly descends to my level, face to face, answering me with long and deep belch.

OOOOOoooOOOOOUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrppppppp...Phoooshhh

And blowing it all afterwards.

"Understood? Now let's begin." Leo turns around and points his ass to my face. "Mr. Rogers, could you answer about..."

He proceeded to ask, and the only thing I could pay attention was this:

"Unfortunately oogling at my ass is not the right answer, mr. Rogers." He finished his sentence with a bang, farting full and real loud on my face.

FFRDRDRFFFFFFFRFRRRFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!

Couldn't ask for a better punishment...

[aauroraxia]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

*:･ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

sypnosis: y/n finds out she’s pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Armando or her team | warnings: none | pairings: Armando x reader | Authors note: finally wrote part one! Might write part two later it just depends |

“𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 y/n!” Kelly begged for the 5th time. Her and Rita were going to this party and they really wanted you to go.

You loved parties and never declined an invite to one but, today you just weren’t feeling up to it.

You had been feeling sick for a few days now so you were taking a leave from work, not wanting to pass anything to anyone.

Your boyfriend, Armando, offered to stay home with you but you didn’t let him, he shouldn’t have to stop working just because you caught some stupid bug.

“Fine if you’re not going neither are we.” Kelly said, plopping down on your couch, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, we can just stay here with you. That’s more fun than any party.” Rita added on.

You smiled, wondering how did you get so lucky to have amazing friends. “Thank you, guys.”

About 4 Vampire Diaries episodes later, you ran to the bathroom, rushing to the toilet, throwing up.

“God, what is wrong with me?” You said looking at yourself in the mirror.

Once you got back to your living room, where Rita and Kelly were, you told them about what just happened. They decided that you should Google your symptoms, to help find out what’s wrong.

So you opened your laptop and started googling.

All the results looked like:

‘What are the symptoms for pregnancy’

‘How to know if you’re pregnant’

‘Pregnancy sickness’

‘I can’t be pregnant’ you thought.

“Can you guys come here for a second!” You yelled to Rita and Kelly. They walked over and you turned your computer to face them.

Kelly looked at you “Well, are you? You know.. pregnant?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so.. it doesn’t make since.”

Rita rubbed your back, “Well let’s go buy some tests before we make any conclusions.” She reassured you.

You sighed thinking, how could you be pregnant, and if you were how would you tell Armando, but you calmed yourself down. The test could comeback negative after all.

Well that didn’t last long, you took 5 tests and they all came back positive. You slid down the wall in your bathroom, hugging your knees, sobbing.

‘How can I be pregnant’

‘I thought we were always being safe’

‘What do I tell Armando’

‘How will I work’

‘How do I take care of a baby’

You were pulled out of your overwhelming thoughts when Rita and Kelly walked in the bathroom. Immediately sitting down next to you, hugging you.

“What will I tell Armando. He didn’t want children right now.” You said in between sobs, breathing heavily.

Rita and Kelly looked at each other sympathetically. Armando wasn’t a open book, especially not around them. They couldn’t assure you or tell you how he would react, so they just comforted you before he got home.

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 Kelly and Rita left you sat on your couch, knowing Armando would be home, any minute now. You heard the door creaked open, incoming your boyfriend with blood splattered on his arms.

“Hey babe.” You said running to him, placing a soft kiss in his cheek.

“Hola mamá” He replied.

You tried to avoid lookin into his eyes, you knew if he looked at you long enough he’d be able to tell you’d been crying. So instead you just pulled his arm leading him into y’all’s bedroom.

You left him there while you went to get a damp towel, to clean the blood off him.

“¿Qué ocurre?” He asked, using his thumb to make you look at him.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“You only avoid looking at me when something’s wrong.”

Damn he knew you good

You knew that if you tried to tell him you would start crying so you just got the test out of the bathroom and handed it to him.

He looked at you with a expression, you couldn’t tell if he was mad or happy “You’re…”

“Pregnant.. yeah. Are you mad?” You asked looking down, playing with your fingers.

“Por supuesto que no, solo sorprendido.”

He took your hands and kissed your knuckles. “¿Tenías miedo de decírmelo?”

“Well yeah.. we talked about having kids at a later- much later time. I didn’t know what you were gonna say.” You said sheepishly

“I know this isn’t what we planned but, I still wanna spend the rest of my life with you, and now our child.” He assured you.

You ran to him, tackling him on the bed, leaving pecks all over his face. How could you ever think he would be upset with.

“Wait- we have to tell the team and your dad.”

“Do we have to?” He asked walking away from the bed.

“Well yeah, they’re gonna wonder why I’m taking an extended leave from work.”

“¿P or qué? Digámosles que volaste a otro país.”

A pillow was then thrown at his head.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 next day, you asked for Marcus, Mike, Rita, Kelly, Dorn and Rafe to meet you at Marcus’ house because you had something to tell them.

After you got there and everyone was chill, you decided to tell them.

Affer all eyes were on you, you took a deep breath in. “So, I’ve decided to take an extended leave of absence from work.”

“Why, is everything alright” Dorn asked.

“Yeah, it’s just.. I’m pregnant.”

Heads were turned and gasps were made.

Everyone came up to you hugging you. Armando stood in the corner with his arms crossed.

“We’re having a A.M.M.O baby!” Kelly shouted making everyone laugh.

Mike walked to his son, patting him on the back.

“Mike! You’re gonna be a grandad.” Marcus said laughing at Mike.

Mike ran his hand down his face, “Damn.”

After everyone settled down, Marcus started “Wait, that means if Y/N is pregnant, that means her and Armando been fuc-“

“MARCUS!” Everyone shouted while you buried your face in your hands.

“Man, this is fucked up“ Marcus said walking away.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ | 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬:

¿P or qué? Digámosles que volaste a otro país - Why? Let’s just tell them you flew to another country.

¿Qué ocurre? - What’s wrong?

“Por supuesto que no, solo sorprendido - Of course not just suprised

¿Tenías miedo de decírmelo? - So that’s what’s wrong

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 ’🩷’ 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @armandosbabymama @atomicfriendfestivalbiscuit @yeahnohoneybye @madi05sblog

[ghouldump]

you are a lifesaver for this fandom, your ffs are AMAZING and I hope both sides of your pillow are always cold. would you mind me requesting more of lestat x bi reader? <3

Pretty When You Cry | Lestat x Bi!Reader

ෆ when you are hunting, focused on your prey, you don't even realize how beautiful you look to lestat.

oh my goodness 😂 that is very sweet of you, thank you. and i don't mind <3

“See anything you like, ma chèrie,” Lestat whispered in your ear, but you ignored him, as you stared at the women.

He came along with you, hunting, and was asking you questions like a child. It had been a while since you opened up about your sexuality, and you nearly forgot about the conversation, until recently. Lestat realized that you only drank from women. He began to question if their blood tasted better, and if were they easier targets, but you shrugged him off, confessing that you liked a little fun before feeding off of them. Immediately, he was intrigued, tagging along to watch you work your magic.

Entering the high-end brothel, you gave the madame money for a table on the balcony and followed behind as she led you to your area.

“Tell me, what are your tastes, a little flavor, ginger, chocolate, cinnamon…?” He questioned.

“All of them, beauty comes in all shades and colors, does it not?”

“I agree, who would’ve known my sweet angel, is truly a seductive little thing,” Lestat smirked.

However, looking past him, she immediately caught your eye. She looked as if she had been kissed by the sun with bronze, glowy skin. Slender, but curvy. The corset drove your mind wild, pushing up her breasts. Reading her thoughts, you grinned, as she questioned if you liked women. Motioning for her to come up, she smiled softly, holding her dress as she made her way into the house.

“Oh, this will be interesting”

As she was approaching behind you, you stood, holding out your hand.

“Hello,” you smiled.

“Hi, I’m Doris,” she grinned. Up close you took in the freckles, beauty marks, full lips, the light lipstick on her lips.

“Y/n, would you like to join us for a while?” you asked, motioning at the table when she nodded.

“Hi,” she said to Lestat, who stared at her, analyzing every piece of her.

“Hello,” he said, before waving over the waiter over.

“Are you two from New Orleans?” she asked, as she was handed the glass of champagne.

“I am, Lestat is from France”

“That's amazing, I've always wanted to go to France”

“Are you a native, I don't think I've seen you around here before?” you asked her, glamouring her, as she looked into her eyes.

“No, I recently moved here,” she shook her head.

“Where are you from?”

“Mississippi”

“And you moved all the way out here?”

“I was kicked out of my parent's home and this was my last resort”

“Why’s that?” Lestat watched in curiosity, as you dug whatever truth you were looking for out of her.

“I'm not welcome, ever since they read my diary, I wasn't allowed back home, I shouldn't have written about it”

“Tell me, what you wrote about?”

“Women I've been with, and crushes,” she said. Immediately, Lestat picked up on how you were enjoying getting this information out of her, wanting her to say it verbally.

“Oh god, I didn't mean that,” she shook her head, as soon as you looked away.

“It is alright, honey, your secret is safe with us,” you reassured her.

“You should leave with us,” Lestat told her.

“I don't know, madame-

“She is fine with you coming with us, she asked for us to personally take you,” Lestat told her, satisfied as she nodded, standing to follow the two of you.

“My, you have a beautiful home,” Doris said, as she looked around the townhouse.

“Please, come sit,” you said, leading her into the living room. Lestat sat in the seat in front of you, crossing his over the other.

“What did you two want to do?” she asked.

“Anything, I have a few things in mind,” you told her, leaning close, pressing your lips against her own.

Kissing along her neck, she laid back, moaning lowly, as your hands explored her body. Slowly stripping from your clothing, you continued to share kisses, until your fangs came out. Gasping, she went to scream, when you covered her mouth, a devilish grin.

“There it goes, always the star of the show, you are, ma chérie,” Lestat applauded.

“Have you ever been told, you look pretty when you cry?”

“Please, don't kill me,” she said, as a tear fell down her face. Tilting your head, you leaned down, licking it from her cheek, before looking into her eyes.

“The most fascinating thing about pain and fear is it is nearly always self-inflicted. You aren't afraid, and you won't feel an ounce of pain, in a short while,” you told her, watching as she visibly relaxed. Going between her legs, you bit her inner thigh.

Inhaling a sharp breath, she remained calm as you drank her blood before you pulled away. Giving her a few more cents than usually paid, your own glamoured her once more, before sending her on her way.

“That's all you wanted?”

“I didn't want to kill her, she has a cute face,” you posted, going to sit in Lestat’s lap.

Don't tell me she already has your heart-

“Only you have my heart, she just doesn't deserve to die, just yet,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer.

“Then, why don't you give me a personal demonstration of that performance from earlier,” he said, as his hand traveled down your back.

From the lust and concentration in his eyes, you knew you were destined to have a wild, but long night.

[lustytears]

Be Quiet

no plot. just fucking tom marvolo riddle like there’s no tomorrow

afab!reader x tom riddle

2.2k words

warnings: SMUT. tongue play, blood kink, biting, spit kink, female receiving, p in v, wrap it b4 u tap it, public sex (in a school), hair pulling, unspecified house reader, shit i can’t think of bc i didn’t rlly proof read it, but it’s for you guys.

haven’t wrote anything in a hot minute so forgive me. first time seriously posting on tumblr. this was actually supposed to be a draco malfoy smut but i just switched it around mid-way when i was thinking of my best friend, who’s completely obsessed with this diary horcrux of voldemort just like me.

i will try and post a master list or something, give me time please.

You sat in your desk, pissed at how you were in this situation in the first place. It all happened because of Tom Riddle, who started arguing with you in the middle of potions—which you inevitably swore at him. Both of you were sent to detention to not only calm the both of yourselves, but for the disrespect and dishonor brought to Hogwarts. You were a good student, if anything a well-respected one at the most. It made you feel embarrassed knowing that you were “disorderly” but you couldn’t help but bite your tongue and put your foot down when it came to Tom Riddle. His smart remarks, his quiet demeanor, his attitude; all of it made me you want to pull at him, perhaps make him realize that he’s nothing to you.

He sat at his desk, both of your desks close between the both of you. “Would you stop?” He bore his eyes into you like daggers. His voice full of personal annoyance.

You placed your pen down, huffing. “How about you shut the fuck up, Riddle? It’s the only damn thing you’re good for anyways,” you crossed your legs, irritation came with your tone. You felt mad—perhaps upset at the fact that you were in this situation with him in the first place. He’s so fucking-

“I promise you,” he said with assurance. “I’m gonna make you regret everything you think. Every nasty glance, every remark.” Tom said, and the feeling of anger filled your head.

“Like I give a shit?” You held yourself back from laughing. “You’re actually so intolerable to be around that it makes me mad,” you hissed. “Fucking dog.” You fixed your black stalkings, the feeling of them rolling up at your thighs bothered you.

Who the fuck was she? With THAT tone? I don’t think so.

“You’re nothing to anyone, Y/N. You’re annoying, deranged, pissy, and disrespectful,” he leaned closer into your side, rubbing it into your face.

“And you’re obsessed,” you shot back at him. Your chest was stiff, but you inhaled. Your fists balled up, your face red.

“Half-bloods like you make me sick. You can’t ever give up, can you?” He smirked. “You love the attention. Fuck, it wouldn’t surprise me if you loved this. It’s your only way to get off, frantically throwing pointless insults at me?” He got up, walked to your desk. “I know you’re aroused. Aroused by the attention of a man noticing you for merely one second.”

“Oh, you fucking stupid b-“ He noticed you playing with your skirt. He pointed to it.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” his eyebrows raised with confidence. “You adore this moment.”

You launched forward, getting up from your seat where you previously sat. The desk was discarded and moved as you pushed it away when you got up. You backed him up into the nearest wall, your hands gripped his throat. Chokes and whines of disbelief came out of his mouth as you strained your hands on him. His eyes were half-closed, expecting some sort of offensive reaction to come from you.

“I fucking hate you. I hate your stupid, little arrogant, no good influence— I want to kill you, Riddle-“

He gasped, not expecting this sort of reaction to come from you. The last thing he’d expect is for you to actually come after him. “Y/N…”

Your hands were still, but the grasp was firm. His warm neck and erratically beating pulse made your hands shiver. You longed for this moment for years, but you let go. Apologies followed after your hands dropped to your sides. His brown eyes dropped to the floor, his mouth silent as the glooming atmosphere filled the both of you up.

“I-I’m sorry, Tom… I didn’t mean that,” your hands came to both sides of his cheeks. One hand drooped to his neck, caressing the spot where you held onto him for too long. His hand came up to his cheek, holding onto your wrist for a moment.

“What for?” The words shocked you. You didn’t expect Tom Riddle to be so… forgiving? He pulled you closer to him, lingering into your eyes for one moment too long. He dangerously held your hips, and by dangerously, his grasp was way too tight for you. As a result, the muscles in his hands flexed. You took notice of this, tilting your head back up to him, but this time, his lips were what you were looking at.

“You know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you paused for a moment. “I’m sorry I took it too far. I-I should’ve realized you were uncomfortable.” His eyes stuck to you, watching your every slight breath as you hyperventilated, your chest quickly raising up and down. “I’m realizing how terribly I’ve treated y-“

His lips met yours. Starved. He switched spots with you, quickly turning you around too fast for you to notice. He backed you up into the wall, pushing you up against him and you only. Your eyes shot open for a second, bewildered and feeling like you were on a high you’ve never expected. His delicate touch made your eyes close with satisfaction. You knew this is what you wanted. After all, he could’ve chosen anyone—you were special.

Every movement, you felt your tongue desperately fighting with his. He picked you up, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist. He sat you down on the desk, his lips moving down to your neck. Your shaky breaths made him chuckle. “How needy?” He asked, rhetorically.

He leaned to your stomach, this time, moving closer down to your pelvic area. You pulled at him., tugging his hair. “What if somebody comes in?” “Nobody’s coming in,” he whispered a quick locking spell, and you heard the doorknob jiggle and lock.

“Be quiet for me, and maybe, just maybe, I won’t despise you so much.” You nodded, allowing him to move closer and closer to your skirt. He pulled up your skirt, noting the dark-colored underwear that was now prized in front of him. He ripped your stalkings with his hands, tearing the nylon off as it hung around your thighs. He pulled your underwear aside, his index finger moving it to the opposite side of your leg. You breathed heavily, waiting for him to touch you. He stared at you, like you were a possession he gladly owned. His calloused fingers took a swipe of your pussy, carefully analyzing how your arousal felt on his fingers and stuck to them when he parted his index and middle finger.

“I’d bet galleons this is how you constantly felt around me, isn’t it?” You stared blankly, feeling like you were lost in your own thoughts. He touched your clit, quickly making your thighs shiver and jerk. You looked down at him, where his eyes met yours. You felt special. He made quick moves with your clit, rubbing it with his thumb as he saw how your eyes squeezed shut. He played with you, teasing as his other fingers played with your entrance, dipping in and out. He plunged both fingers in, desperately finding your g-spot as he pulled them back and forth between your entrance.

“Y-yeah, this—this is how I’ve thought of you. Fuck!” You exclaimed. He smirked, going at you with a much faster pace. His fingers made quick work of you, showing how talented he was considering he was making you feel this good only with his fingers.

“I.. I think-“ You moaned, loudly. He stopped, pulling his fingers out of you and his thumb stopped rubbing your clit. You pouted, begging for attention.

“If you’re not going be quiet, I’d advise you to pull your panties right back and your skirt down, and to shut the fuck up,” he said, emotionless. You were confused.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Tom… Please, fuck me. Okay? I promise- I promise I’ll be very good for you. Only you,” you pleaded, begging for him to continue.

He entered his fingers right back in. He fucked you at a much faster pace, squelchy noises emitted from the friction he was making as he continued fucking you at a speed that wasn’t known well to you. It was like he knew your body. You covered your mouth, holding it tightly as your legs wrapped against him. He pulled his fingers out, leaning in as his tongue substituted his fingers. He rubbed your clit in circles with his tongue, lapping up all of your juices. His hands grasped your thighs tightly as your legs wrapped around his head. Your back arched, rubbing against him for release.

Without a warning, he asked, “Cum for me, darling.” His tongue moved at a faster pace, licking your entrance as it quickly entered in you, eating your pussy out.

“Oh my God…” You exhaled, releasing all over his face. It didn’t take him long to use his tongue to lick all of your pleasure up. You moaned as he overstimulated you, licking you clean. “So fucking perfect,” he praised you. His jaw flexed, his eyes filled with pleasure.

He got up, off of his knees. “What are you doing?” You asked him, watching him unbuckle his pants uniform, unzipping his pants. He took his boxer waistline, taking both of his pants and his boxers right off. His cock sprung to his chest. His tip leaked with pre-cum. You eyed his cock, imagining how his girth would feel violating your walls.

“What’s that? You want me to violate your walls with my cock?” He exclaimed, chucking as your eyes widened with both fear and euphoria.

“Spit in my hand. Now.” You obeyed, a wad of spit pooled the middle of his palm. He moved his hand to his cock, lubing his cock with your saliva. He smirked, watching your legs widen and your pussy glisten with the mix of his tongue residue and your arousal. He continued jerking his cock, placing a hand on your thigh, the other hand guiding his cock to your entrance. He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down, noting how your legs tensed.

“Don’t be tense.… Let me pleasure you.”His hand touched your face carefully, moving down to your shirt. He fidgeted your buttons, unbuttoning your blouse and throwing it aside as he exposed your bra. Visioning how your tits would look, he quickly unbuttoned your bra, then moving your skirt and pulling it off. You helped him out, hopping off the table and doing the same by taking off his shirt, unbuttoning his uniform. You touched his tone body, admiring his chest.

Quickly, he turned you around, bending you over the desk. He leaned against you, lining his cock up to your entrance. He stuck his cock into you, causing your mouth to part an ‘o’. His movements became quick and aggressive, moving into you at a fast pace. You tried suppressing your moans, but he pulled your hair, yanking it back. It allowed him to continuously fuck your g-spot perfectly, making your grip on the desk turn your knuckles white. He pounded into you at an unforgivable pace, the sounds of skin contact made it unbearable—impossible, you noted. There was no way anybody couldn’t hear this.

“Fuck, you’re so.. so good,” you moaned, his hand tight, yanking your hair. Tears stained your cheeks from the combination pleasure of his cock ruining your walls and his hand pulling your hair towards him.

He violently snapped his hips into you. He took the opportunity to kiss your bare and exposed neck, biting down on your shoulder as he claimed you.

“Nobody’s going to fuck you the same. Nobody’s gonna love you the same. I’m going to be the one you think of when you dare touch yourself on those dark, dim nights alone. You’ll remember this moment like it’s the last thing you’ll ever think of. I am your permanent memoria.” He saw the dark mark on your neck, and he bit it again, piercing his teeth through your skin. You cried out, tears streaming down your face. Blood pooled, causing him to smile. He licked your shoulder like your blood was candy to him.

His hip movements became more unfocused, coming close to a sign that he was near to cumming right inside of you. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into you.

“I’m going to fucking- Cum-“ And like that, he released right inside of you. The hot liquid filled your inside as he pushed his cock to your cervix, painting your deepest points white with his cum.

You fell limp. He took notice of it, and took his now once erect cock out of you. He helped you get dressed, before noticing your stalkings were completely torn. He grabbed his wand, casting a spell that would fix your broken nylon stalkings. You thanked him with tired eyes, completely exhausted from pain and pleasure. He got dressed, fixing his belt as he kept an eye on you. He carefully unlocked the door, speeding over towards you to grab you, carrying your frail body into his arms. He kissed your forehead, walking through the empty halls to his Slytherin house, coldly staring at any suspecting and confused individuals who stared at the both of you with daggers, then to his room. He opened the door, placing you on the bed. He unraveled the cover, pulling it over you completely to keep you warm. Your eyes shut, head turned to the opposite side of him.

“Sleep well, beauty.”

[dimpledcherry]

would you write eddie munson x fem!reader smut?

where eddie’s chilling in his girls‘s room, bored because she’s taking a shower. he’s kinda snoopin’ around & finds a pastel pink book. he’s curious & starts reading it, realizing it’s her diary. he skips to the last page, dated just a few days ago. his eyes widen, not believing what he’s reading about his innocent girl.

sure they had sex. and not that vanilla, too. but he would’ve never thought his girl had thoughts like that. on this very page, his girl wrote her hidden fantasies. things she never even thought of telling eddie, too embarrassed. she’s talking about how she wants to call eddie „daddy“, or be choked, be humiliated to the brim, be filled by his cum till he’s dry, want him to be in complete control. she wants to be fully submitted to him.

before he can put the diary away she comes out of the bathroom, catching him. he confronts her & she tells him how embarrassed she is etc. they talk it out & he reversals that some of the stuff she likes he likes too. then they make out & they try out some of the stuff.

Oh my god you're an evil genius, time I put my 4 years of journaling to good use! - also ive been working on this all week and the 'h' key on my keyboard keeps getting stuck and its making typing no longer fun :/

Written Fantasies

Summary: ^^ the ask Pairing: Eddie x Reader Trigger Warnings: Smut / Embarrassment / hands on throats - no chocking Content Warnings: Diary Reading / blow jobs / impoliteness / shoe frontage / demands / deep throating / reader masturbation

MY EDDIE MASTERLIST BABY!!!!!!!

The space was as recognisable as the back of his hand, and as comforting as his denim vest: lightly coloured walls, cabinets around the room, shelves and counter tops filled trinkets and lifes memorabilia: photos of events, pretty candles, books, small trinkets of days out, wrist bands and broken watches that simply just meant too much.

Things changed every time he entered this space: photos changed frames, boxes gained new records, the cassette piles grew, and the books changed order.

Eddie clocked - while laying on your bed waiting for you to come back from your shower - that not only had the books changed but new ones were added. when he sat up to take a better look: there were 4 books, all identical sat up together leaning on a pile of published books.

The 4 were pink, all the same size, some slightly thicker, one especially thinner. All with individual dates written into their spines: 1983, 1984,1985, 1986. He weren't no idiot, his brain sorted that they were diaries.

He felt a twinge of pride for you to have the left out on display - almost like trophies, proud of your past. He knew a lot about you but you'd seemed to have never told him you wrote a diary. Eddie knew it was standard procedure you don't read people diary: just as you don't snoop in artists sketch books or dungeon masters binders. But who would he be kidding if he said he didn't wanna read it.

He thought a moment, concentrating and recognising the shower was still running. He didn't have to think too much, the boy was running on curiosity alone. Sat up on the edge of your bed, he leant over and pulled 1986 into his hands.

It started with him just flicking the pages: most of it empty; a few loose sheets tucked into the back; a pen clipped to the elastic closer. The filled side of the book was set out meticulously: a yearly planner already almost filled with exams, cheer practice, birthdays, appointments, dates with Eddie, every Tuesday marked with Hideout at 7, every odd Friday marked Hellfire!.

There was this warmness in his heart, knowing his life was just as important to you as it was for him. He believed every I love you, but know he understood every I love you.

He flicked through the book more: budget planners, goal pages, period trackers, and the body. Filled with your typical too-curly-to-read handwriting, every page filled line for line. Some sitting half empty signifying the end of an entry.

Eddie couldn't possibly understand what you had to write about for long that you wouldn't just tell him or your friends.

He found the dog eared page, the scruffily written date marking yesterday. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a little giddy. He knew he shouldn't but he really couldn't stop himself.

As he read down the page: a recall of your date to the record store and diner, small notes of your gushing over Eddie's chivalry (he always thought holding doors open and little pet names were usual things), a detailed explanation of his outfit and how you loved it (he read that a few times, remember to wear his little thigh harness around you more often.). And as he continued to read, the writting felt less confident, as though there as a topic waited to be hinted at.

He skipped over to the next page and down it, finding a few words grabbing his eyes: touch myself, embarrassing, chocked, him, daddy.

His eyebrows rested in his hairline, eyes almost leaving his skull, the warmth on his checks wasn't imagined. He jumped back a few lines:

Jesus I feel 14 again. I dont know why he does this to me. I see him everyday, and yet im still pinning over him like he's some untouchable deity.

He reads down

We have sex so much but like every night I end up touching myself thinking about- its so embarrassing! I feel like ive been poisoned!! literally none of my friends are like this about their boyfriends!

yeah we all talk about sex but they all have usual sex and normal fantasies but like I feel like a deviant. if I ever told anyone what I really want they'd all look at me so weird

but if I think about sex with him about him all I can think of is his hands and his lips and his voice! and if Im actually honest with myself, all I want is him. I cant stop. ive got into this habit of thinking about him before I go to bed and like every night I touch myself to him.

literally seem like I cant just have him- and I so can but I want so much more!

like if I really thought about it: I'd love him to just use me, do whatever. He could fuck me, make me fuck him, cum in me, chock me, spit on me and I'd be so fucking happy!

Or like, my brain keeps thinking to what if we're fucking and someone hears or we're almost gonna get caught and it turns me on so much! I feel like a pervert.

Eddie felt himself hold his breath.. he was no prude, under his bed was riddled with lost porn mags, he know a lot about kinks and fetishes but something about hearing from you - sweet, quite, calm you- shit! He was getting all flustered.

And like also! keep calling him Daddy in my mind too - I dont know where thats come from but it feels so right! I just really want him to just have his way with me. I dont know how on earth I tell him this. this is so embarrassing.

Eddie was transfixed by your confessions: the sound of the water had slipped his ears. Let alone, he hadn't heard the floor creak and wind chance as you entered the room.

"Jesus babe! You scared me- can't make a guy jump like that!" He yelped, the towel hitting the bed making him jump back into real time.

You laughed at him at first... until your eyes danced around him... and what he had in his hand. You didnt need to ask to know. And almost instantly you felt your body tense, mind go blank and cheek redden. Hands sat in on each other, lips rolled in, eye popping out almost. "Um-"

Confident as ever, he laid back into your pillows, straightening out his legs, "Didn't know you thought like this, Sweetheart.." He started reading, "Kinda want him to fill me until hes dry-"

You leapt onto him - to be honest the word doesn't cut it. You practically jumped on him, trying to grab the book from him but he was swift... dodging your hands artfully as he continued reading. His light and teasing voice was harmonised by your loud commands for him to stop. The room had laughter too: Yours was embarrassment and his was humour.

After a particularly wobbly Eddie! he put the book down, giving you a perfect moment to sling it back onto your cabnit. "Please stop." You frowned.

"Awe sorry baby," He laughed, pulling you down for a cuddle, "It's really hot though." You whined, "It is! Fuck babe," He sighed, "I really didn't think you'd wanna do anything like that!" It surpassed you how he had this ability to never be ashamed or embarrassed about anything. He dipped his head into your neck, "Like being chocked, filled with my cum. fuck, even messy..."

"Shut up!" You leant up, hands flying to his face, coving his mouth and you were straddled to his hips. "I can't believe you- I'm so embarassed!"

"Why?" Earnest and lovie as he moved your hands down.

"You were never meant to find out..."

"Why, you know im into anything?"

"Embarassing."

"No its not."

"yes, it is."

"You know," he started rubbing your thighs, "I'd love to fuck you dumb, fill you up, have you all messy-"

Now you'd be lying if you said he wasn't affecting you- you were embarrassed but so secretly turned on. Your tummy tensed, the blood went to your head, your thighs stiffened. But still your embarrassment was bigger, "Stop making fun of me!"

"Baby baby baby" He cooed, pulling your hands from your face, "I promise i'm really not."

You whined at him, he mimicked you back, pulling you down for a delicate honest kiss. It was deep and slow, him offering his truth to you. And who wouldn't melt into that? His hands now found your hip and your neck, in to your lips his mumbled "Roll over."

You gasp as he rearranges you both, your back now to the bed, "Wanna try something." He sat up continuing, "We can't your little sexual fantasies now-" You squirm in embarrassment, "But" He began stroking your cheek in efforts to pull you out your head. "I wanna try something new.""

He leant down planting a sweet kiss to your lips though you tried to chase him for a second, he was already moving down into your neck, planting even sweeter ones there. You could never stay quiet for his sightly chapped lips and heavy hands - small mewls slipped from you. "Good girl." Quiet, practically breathed from Eddie.

"We can't try the public-people-home stuff, but" another neck kiss, "I do.." another kiss to the other side, "really like the idea" a kiss under your ear, "of having you fully submitted" a kiss to the shell of your ear "to me"

The way you gasp makes Eddie sure he's hit gold with you. As he talks, your hand in his hair pulls and squeezes more, "How about," He moves along to kiss your cheek, "I get you on your knees" Another kiss, "no pillow, because desperate whores don't deserve kind treatment." A light kiss to your lips, "And I let you blow me?" Another kiss, "But" Kiss "I'll be holding your head," He was now resting on his forearms, fingers lost in your hair, "Pushing and pulling you exactly how I want?" Another light kiss met with a hearty pull of your hair, "Fill that little mouth up with my cum."

God you were in heaven - how did you manage to get a boy like him. All you felt you could do was nod at him. A tap of your thigh and you were on the floor kneeling between his legs as he sat on the edge of your bed.

Looking up at him, the shy coy expression fell naturally on you, "Pretty girl, aren't you?" He complimented. "Get on with it then." It was like a switch was flipped.

Excitedly, you get his belt and jeans off. His dick was hard and pretty as ever - not too big but a little wide, a more red tint than the rest of him already bleeding pre cum.

You got personal with it, licking the beed off, replacing it with a kiss. Eddie couldn't help the sigh - you ruin him on the daily no matter what you do. You could get lost playing with his head. He helped by tucking your hair behind your ears, keeping his hands on your lower head and jaw.

The kisses turn into kitten licks met with you looking up at him, his spaced out satisfied look made you smile, "Shit- open your mouth for me."

Sat up a bit more, the head of is cock resting on your lower lip, palms lost behind his calves: you were ready to try something you never thought you'd get to. The hands in your hair pushing you down slowly, and pulled you back up even more delicately - he giving both of you the space to gauge how yous felt.

"Suck it a bit harder" You did. "fuck-you love this, don't you?" You nod.

It was really all he needed - he didn't even need verbal confirmation, just the feel of your nails in the backs of his legs and how your eyes were rolled back and closing was enough, not to mentions the light noises in your throat. He pushed you down with more force, hands now cupping your cheeks and jaw.

He didn't make you deep throat him - neither of you needed to go that far at the moment. The half of his dick that was still straining your jaw send your brains both tumbling.

Eddie yanked you off him with a rough tug to your hair pulling a throat whine out of you, "Shit babe- you're a little slut aren't you?"

You nodded dumbly, "For you- love you."

"I love you too," A thumb stroked your cheek, "Daddy loves you."

Maybe it was the name. Maybe it was the humiliating reminder he had read you diary. Maybe it was the whispering in the empty quiet house. Maybe it was just him. But you were sure he'd just written you off to hell. You felt a beed of slick drop from your cunt.

And Eddie practically felt it too: he could see the haze covering your pretty eyes and the cheeky smile that covered your face.

A thumb toyed with your lip, he continued, "Gotta get you a little collar with my name on it." And with that you basically purred at him. Eddie was sure he was lost in you as you started to barely suck his thumb.

He'd never had you so spaced and floaty. Sure you've both spoken through sex before but nothing like this, nothing so painfully skilled in what the other actually needs to hear. Sex had never felt so possessive until right now.

The sight of you both was like it was from a porno: you, puffy lipped, half lidded eyes and big breaths; Eddie, pointed look, panting, loved up eyes.

The other hand dropped from your cheek and sat around your neck back - the pressure alone made your eyes flutter - and the sight went straight to his dick.

He popped his thumb out your mouth and brung you up for a dirty, messy, deep kiss. No coordination, just lust. Teeth smacking teeth, uncomfortable postures, hands gripping and clawing where ever they could.

He pulled away, standing up as if to leave. But you whine is stopped when you see he leant against your cabinet. Very idolly, he picked up the diary searching for the place he left off on, commanding a "Come here" using his fingers to make a curling motion, not even bothering to look up at you. "Crawl" He sneers almost as you go to get up.

Granted the space wasn't so big so the crawl was more of an awkward on-you-knees- shuffle but boy did that embarrassment climb back up inside you. If this was with anyone else, the pang of embarrassment woulda been too much, but something in Eddies low murmured tone did something totally new to you. "You're a good little pet, aren't you?"

His eyes never left the book in front of him: flicking through pages, scanning for the right sentence. He began reading off again. Completely as though it was the Sunday news paper and not your kinkiest secret fantasies.

"Eddie stop-"

"You know thats not my name." Eyes still in the book, tone stern and cold. You positioned on your claves between his legs, just waiting. "Thought you liked this? I know this isn't as good as being caught but its pretty close, right?" Finally he looks over.

The sudden feeling of something under you made you squirm, "Go on," He continued, "Get yourself off while I read your silly little diary."

The feeling that swelled in your belly was indescribable. It was overwhelming, unignorable and life changing. Like a duckling to its mother, you blindly listened: beginning to slowly rub yourself on the top of his foot.

"Suck my cock too, Sweetheart." He completely disregards you, finally finding his place on the pages. But he didn't start reading until he could feel your lips kiss his cock head.

You try to loose yourself in kissing him and the weight on your tongue but the perching reminder of what he is reading keeps pulling you out. The blood in your ears and the cotton in your brain were getting thicker.

You felt a ring or two pull on the strands of your hair, your gasps causing you to suck his in harder. You felt the rings apply more of a push at certain points of Eddies reading.

It's all sort of too dirty to really feel like its real life. Nobody really experiences this stuff right? Like it's all just movie magic? Clearly not. Clearly somehow you'd hit the jackpot. Somehow in small little irrelevant Hawkins in the mid 80s, you'd met the jack pot.

The sound of a book hitting a surface pulls you from your slack, readjusting yourself back to the present, you felt two hands play with your hair with more intent.

"Fuck-you sure know how to suck a dick, don't you?" He tucked some behind your ear, making you look up at him "Who taught you that?"

"You-da-daddy." Jumbled delivery thanks to the cock in your mouth.

"Sorry couldn't hear you."

"da-daddy" You tried, but sadly coming out more like 'dabby' thanks to the 5 inch obstruction in your throat.

The palms by your ears tighten, "good" It was almost like an extended sigh, "You gonna take it? Tap me if it's too much, yah?" Serious and caring, you nod.

"Yes" You respond to the eyebrow raise, "Yes daddy."

"Good little thing, aren't you?" Another tuck of your hair, and he pulled your head back in opposition to his hips going forward. He was using you clearlessly, not yet pushing you down as deep as he could, but rather just enjoying your lightness.

The room enters a soundtrack of hisses and hums, some slurps and some groans.

"I told you to get yourself off." It wasn't rude but you felt like you were being told off. Your heart pinged in your chest.

It was annoying how good it felt. Yes your knees stung and the carpet has turned into staples but who cared. The hands behind your ears making you deep throat him were heaven, the foot under your clit was heaven, Eddies musky smell was heaven.

Hums and hisses turned into the sound of fabric rubbing and small 'fuck's and 'shit's. And at this rate the streams of dribble coming off your chin and too the floor was definitely anything but disgusting.

Looking up at him and seeing him looking down, heaven too. "Gonna cum in your mouth." You really couldn't help the whorish whine. "Don't swallow it."

Something about that single demand got you were you needed it too. The swelling between your legs seemed to his its peak, the sheen of sweat tripped and your body felt like it was burning. Finger burring into his thighs, tummy tensed: you came over his foot, eyes rolled into the back of your skull.

Eddie using this as the perfect moment to use you. Seeing a moment where you'd given him your everything, he gripped you harder and thrusted deeply into your throat.

Still in your post orgasm haze, the 2 boney hands drag you up by your arm pits, a leg helps keep you stood. "Open." You couldn't even see him at the moment, but you knew behind the black was a man staring at you with all his love.

So you did as he told. Mouth open, cum threatening to spill, "Good, swallow." There was a hand to your throat, and them butterflies danced again. And then there was a light press to your lips that helps bring your eyes back open.

Neither of you could help getting lost a bit in the other - this was a big step, a big new, a good thing too! Eddie broke your moment off and tucked you into his chest, coddling you.

"I love you"

"I-love- you too"

He laughed at your breathiness. "Can we have an actual conversation about this now"

"Gimme a minute- I think my brains all mush."

He laughed again and gave a kiss to your hair.

[ceilidhtransing]

Having spent pretty much the entire year immersed in studying Nazi Germany, the Holocaust, and genocide more broadly, my heart is bursting with the need to stress how much you should take Project 2025 seriously. This is a long post but please stick with me.

Don't take this post as an attempt to concretely predict anything. We can't ever fully know the future and I think it's silly to say with total certainty “if Trump wins then America will become just like Nazi Germany” - not only because the future isn't written yet, but also because Germany under the Nazis was a very specific regime with its own quirks and peculiarities and I don't think that even a worst-case-scenario Trump regime would look exactly like Hitler's Germany. No two regimes ever look exactly alike: it would use the same colour palette as all far-right dictatorships but be constructed from a different medium, like what a watercolour is to an oil painting.

But just because Trump is a very different person from Hitler, and a worst-case-scenario Trump dictatorship would not literally be “Nazi Germany all over again”, that doesn't mean that what happened in Germany isn't instructive here. Forget the specifics of whether or not Trump as a dictator would organise a state identically to how the Nazis organised Germany or whatever; on a far broader and more relevant level, there is a distressing number of similarities. And too many people are falling into the same thought traps as they did then.

Please don't assume that Trump is “way too incompetent” to achieve what's in Project 2025 or Agenda 47. They said the same thing about Hitler. They said that there was no way this showman could govern effectively - holding big rallies and making speeches that get people riled up isn't the same as being good at running a functioning state and achieving what you want. The New York Times even wrote after he became Chancellor of Germany that this would only “let him expose to the German public his own futility”. And in many ways Hitler was pretty incompetent. But that didn't end up mattering. The greatest crime of the Nazi regime, the Holocaust, was masterminded mostly by a whole load of people besides Hitler, who were delegated the nitty-gritty task of actually orchestrating it. Hitler's personal incompetence didn't prevent war or genocide.

Please don't assume that Trump is “just a wacky nutcase” who “can't possibly be a real risk”. They said the same thing about Hitler. The mainstream media gave constant coverage to all the crazy extreme things Hitler said as if he was merely a bit of a joke and not a massive threat. The Nazis were quite happy with this. To quote Goebbels repeatedly in his diary, “The main thing is they're talking about us.”

Please don't assume that being in power will “moderate” Trump and that “of course he won't be able to do all the crazy stuff once he actually has to govern”. They said the same thing about Hitler. It was a common sentiment in the early 1930s that all the sensible politicians around him would force him to moderate his stances. Fritz von Papen, the last Chancellor of Weimar Germany, persuaded President Hindenburg to make Hitler the Chancellor by assuring him, “In a few months, we will have pushed [Hitler] so far into the corner that he will squeak.” It turns out that power doesn't “moderate” people who are openly talking about a dictatorship.

Please don't assume that there's any truth to the whole “Trump has nothing to do with Project 2025 and trying to link it to him is just liberal hysteria” line. They said the same thing about Hitler. People repeatedly asserted that Nazi street violence wasn't really representative of the party leadership; it wasn't representative of Hitler. He was even subpoenaed by a very brave lawyer in 1931 in a bid to prove that recent violence by Nazi stormtroopers was committed with the knowledge and encouragement of the party leadership, with part of the prosecution's argument hanging on a pamphlet by Goebbels that promised a violent overthrow of the state if the Nazis couldn't come to power legitimately. Surely no legal political party could be publishing that. In a successful attempt to escape criminal charges, Hitler repeatedly lied that the pamphlet was not official Nazi Party material and that he didn't know anything about it. No Trump didn't write it, no it isn't an official GOP manifesto, but the links between Project 2025 and Trump, the previous Trump administration, and Trump allies are extremely well documented. Just the other day, Project 2025 co-author Russell Vought was caught calling Trump's disavowals of the document “graduate-level politics” and saying, “what he's doing is just very, very conscious distancing himself from a brand ... he's in fact not even opposing himself to a particular policy.”

Please don't assume that “there's no way something like that could happen here; we're way too educated and advanced”. They said the same thing about Hitler. The Germany of the 1920s and 1930s was one of the most educated and most scientifically and industrially advanced nations in the world, and its cities were some of the most progressive in the world. People were stunned and horrified that it was in Germany of all places - Germany, land of music and art and science and literature! - that fascism took root. Germany's economic and social advancement didn't stop about 40% of its voters choosing the Nazis. It didn't stop them taking power.

Please don't assume that Project 2025 is “just a wishlist” and “not actually a serious plan”. They said the same thing about Hitler. As is hopefully very clear by now, plenty of people did not think that the Nazis were capable of, or would dare to try, putting into actual practice the horrific ideas about race that undergirded so much of their ideology. “I like Hitler; he talks sense economically and I think all this stuff about Jews is just bluff and bluster.” “Every party has a loony wing, right? You have to understand they're not serious when they talk about this stuff; they're just telling their base what they want to hear.” “God have you heard this crazy race science shit about head shapes and stuff? It's hilarious! I'm sure none of them at the top really believe that; there's no way they'd be that nuts.” When a group of people like this tells you what they believe and tells you what they want to do with power, believe them. No matter how ridiculous they seem, they're not joking.

In the words of Hans Litten, the lawyer who subpoenaed and cross-examined Hitler in that court case in 1931, “Don't listen to him; he's telling the truth.” Litten was arrested on the night of the Reichstag fire in 1933 and spent the rest of his life being tortured in concentration camps before dying in Dachau in 1938 at the age of 34.

A tyrannical dictatorship can often be seen coming a mile away. I don't want to imply for a second that what the Nazis did came as a surprise to everyone and couldn't possibly have been predicted. There were people who saw this coming in the 1920s and 1930s and tried to sound the alarm while they still had a chance. But they were too often in the minority, taking the threat seriously while others had convinced themselves that there was no need for concern because the Nazis wouldn't really do all the things they repeatedly talked about wanting to do. Everyone should have seen this coming, but too many people wanted to believe it couldn't be true.

Don't let this scare you. Let it energise you. Talk to the people in your life about Project 2025 and Agenda 47. Push back against people who assert that “they'd never actually do all that stuff” or “Trump didn't even write Project 2025” or “it's not a real plan, just a list of crazy shit to get the base riled up”. Have conversations with folks you know who are on the fence about voting or about who to vote for and who seem persuadable. Make sure you're registered to vote, and keep making sure, especially if you live in a red state where people keep mysteriously dropping off voter rolls.

Now, again, please don't read this as some confident prediction that Trump will be a Hitler figure. I want to stress that is a worst-case scenario. If a Trump presidency is what happens, I would much prefer the best-case scenario: that he spends four years fumbling around and not really accomplishing anything and then gives up power at the end without much of a fight. But it would also be a folly to be smugly overconfident that the worst-case scenario “won't” or “can't” happen. It could. It has happened before. There is no reason it couldn't happen again.

[ashwhowrites]

could you do a Robin fic where reader forgets her diary at Robin's house after a sleepover (they're childhood best friends) and Robin decides to take a peek when she sees what reader wrote about her and all the things reader wants Robin to do to her, and then Robin does those things to her. Idk if this is a good request so if you don't like it don't do it. Anyways, love your fics!! 🩷

I love my baby Rob

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Dear diary

YN and Robin had been best friends for years. They met in elementary school and haven't been apart since. They told each other everything and nothing was a secret when it came to each other. Except for one little thing, Y/N never told Robin. Y/N never came out to Robin or told her she was in love with her. Y/N knew Robin liked girls, she knew before Robin told her. Y/N wished she had come out when Robin did, but she was scared.

Watching Robin grow into an attractive and mature woman was hard for Y/N. She always wanted to call it a small school crush, but it was past the crushing level.

Y/N didn't have other friends she wanted to share the information with, so she wrote it in her diary.

After the sleepover Y/N had with Robin last night, she had a lot to write about. She unpacked her bag and kept an eye out for her diary. She felt panic seep in her bones when the bag was empty and the diary was nowhere to be seen.

~

"I'm always amazed by how blue her eyes are. It gets hard to follow what she says because she is so distracting."

"We watched another movie tonight. It was her pick so I didn't understand the movie. But I loved listening to her reviews."

"We walked through the rain and I only thought about kissing her."

"I need to stop buying her rings. It's getting too attractive."

"I love the way she holds my hand through the store."

"I love it when she picks on Steve, sometimes he deserves it."

"I wish she'd kiss me."

"I wish she'd rent a horror film and let me hide in her arms. Baby me and slip me on her lap and take my breath away with her body."

Robin slammed the diary shut as she felt guilt rushing through her. She knew all of her best friend's deepest thoughts. Stuff she never guessed Y/N thought about. But Robin couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach. Her best friend liked her, and really liked her.

Robin chewed at her bottom lip as she weighed out her options. She wasn't sure if she should admit she read it or not. Would Y/N be pissed?

Yeah, probably Robin! You read about her secret crush on you

Robin jumped as she heard the phone ring. She set the book down on her bed and walked out to the kitchen. She answered and tried to keep her breathing normal.

"Hey Rob, did I leave a book there?" Y/N asked, nervously chewing on her nails. She hoped Robin didn't open it, or noticed that it was a diary not just a book.

"Um yeah, it...was on my floor! Yeah right there on the floor. Do you want me to bring it to school tomorrow? Or I could bike there right now. I think it might rain but I ha-"

"Tomorrow is fine, Rob. I'll see you in the morning," Y/N laughed as she hung up. She was used to Robin's rambles so she didn't think twice about it.

"I'm fucked," Robin said to herself as she slammed the phone on the wall.

~~~

Robin burned fire on her driveway as she paced. Y/N would be here any moment and Robin was horrible at seeming nonchalant. Her brain kept seeing the words written on the paper.

Robin took a deep breath as Y/N pulled up. She got in the car and tried to focus on being calm.

"Morning, Rob" Y/N said with a smile

Robin sent her a smile and handed over the book. Robin felt her stomach get tight as Y/N looked up and stared into her eyes. Was she thinking about how blue they were?

"What is it? It doesn't have a title or anything" Robin asked, not sure if she was making herself suspicious or in the clear

"Like a little journal. Nothing important in it," Y/N shrugged and tossed it in the backseat.

Robin nodded and left it at that.

~~~

Now that Robin knew about the crush, she wanted to do something about it. She has had a crush on Y/N since she could remember.

"Horror? for Y/N? Since when?" Steve asked as Robin checked out the film.

"She happens to want to watch one," Robin said, as she rolled her eyes. "Which I know because I'm her best friend. Just two girls watching a movie...together as friends. Sure, we might hide under a blanket but it's all just as friends!"

"You okay?"Steve asked, he eyed Robin with suspicion. He watched as her face got red and she stuttered a little more.

"What is with the investigation? It's a movie date! Not a date! It's not a date, just a movie with a friend"

"Movie with a friend sounds fun," Steve said, still worried about the girl as she raced out of the shop.

~

Robin might have covered her fingers in pretty rings. And she might have applied a clear gloss and sprayed perfume on her neck.

"Steve recommended this movie so I thought we should give the dingus a shot to be right for once," Robin said as she clicked play on the film. Both girls under the same blanket as Y/N picked at the bowl of popcorn.

Y/N laughed at the dig at Steve, but she was excited it was a horror film.

As the movie played, the closer Y/N got to Robin's warm body. The bowl of popcorn was moved to the table as Y/N launched herself into Robin's arms and hid her face in her neck.

Y/N silently purred to herself as she smelt the perfume on her skin. She smelled addicting.

"You don't have to be scared, I got you, sweetheart." Robin cooed as she wrapped her arm around Y/N.

Y/N felt her heart race, she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

"Thanks," she whispered shyly

"Just a movie, I'll protect you," Robin said, she looked down but couldn't see her face. "Would you want to...sit in my lap?"

Robin felt herself hold her breath as the question hung in the air. She prayed Y/N wouldn't think too hard and connect the dots.

Before Y/N could answer, Robin's arms were already yanking her over. Y/N felt her stomach flutter as she slipped on Robin's lap. She sat face to face with Robin, the movie lost in the background.

"What are you doing?" Y/N whispered, her eyes lost in the ocean blue of Robin's eyes.

"Taking your breath away," Robin whispered as she leaned in

Y/N felt pounding in her chest...and in between her legs as Robin cupped her face. The coldness of her chunky rings sent shivers down her spine.

Y/N held her breath as Robin closed the space between them. Her glossy lips were delicately pressed against hers. Y/N moaned as she kissed Robin back. Y/N's arms moved up to wrap around Robin's neck, deepening the kiss.

Robin kept one hand on her face and the other one moved down Y/N's back and slipped underneath her shirt. The feeling of Y/N's bare skin on her hand made Robin burn with desire.

Robin licked Y/N's bottom lip, asking to take the kiss to another level. Y/N happily agreed, opening her mouth as their tongues touched.

Y/N couldn't help but rock her hips against Robin, her hands moved into Robin's hair. She yanked and tugged as Robin growled.

Needing air, they pulled back. They panted as they looked at each other. A shy smile on Robin's face as Y/N looked shocked it all happened.

"I read your diary. I know that it was wrong, but I read too much. I know you like me and I like you too. I'm sorry for invading your privacy but I couldn't ignore what I read. I've liked you for so long and never had the right words to say." Robin explained, still a little breathless.

"I feel like I should be mad, but I got what I wanted." Y/N smiled

"I've always wanted to kiss you too," Robin confessed, her thumb softly pulling on Y/N's bottom lip.

"What do we do now?" Y/N asked

"I ask if you want to be my girlfriend? I think? I'm not sure most of Steve's stories end at the kiss and he doesn't see them again." Robin said

"Girlfriend sounds perfect," Y/N smiled

They shared a smile before their lips smashed together.

Maybe Y/N should leave her diary around more often.

[helluvaloverx3]

Johnny Slaughter Sawyer NSFW Alphabet

A/N: we need more johnny fanfic!! please 🙏

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Johnny isn’t the comforting type— not vocally at least. In the beginning, he just turned onto his back and lit up a cigarette. You didn’t blame him, you didn’t know each other fully yet of course… it was all lust before the love. If he started to like— even love you he’ll hold you while you quivered from the pounding he just gave you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His arms. He worked hard for them— working on cars, working out, he was a mechanic in his free time… killing people that talked to you a little too much— he needed those strong arms. They got rid of most of his problems.

He loved your hipdips. He loved rubbing them with his dirty hands under your sundress as you made sandwiches and lemonade for him after a hard day of working on your car. His rough large hand were able to grip them as your body slammed down onto his cock, giving you leverage and aid in pleasing him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves to cum on the cheeks of your face and tits. He bathes in the visual— the cum drip down the dip from your face onto your chest. His second favorite place to cum is in your pussy of course, it’s only his second favorite because he plugs your pussy up so it doesn’t leak out but it also means it’ll be the last time he cums in your hole for a lil while~

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you ‘met’ him, he stalked you. You don’t know about this. That’s why you were suprised when he took you to your house without you even telling him directions. He said it was intuition, “as the hippies called it.”. His hands and lips that night in his truck stopped you from thinking about it thankfully… you believed it just enough so that he could sneak into your home with your unlocked windows and steal your diary. Oh the things you wrote about— you always wanted to be choked and treated like an absolute whore! Thankfully he knew this, and your first time together was glorious. He still has it to this day and you wonder what happened to it…

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is very experienced. He was… experimental in his younger age. As he got more handsome there was more girls on him like fleas. You’d assume he took advantage of this, of course.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. He loved the idea of knowing that even if you were on top he could still have more power over the whole situation. However, if you decided to do something you’ll regret— trying to slap that beautiful ass of his— you will have your face in a pillow and your ass being pounded.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Expect no funny moments when you get Johnny in the mood. When he’s horny, everything else in the world is radio silent in his head. Even if you tried cracking a joke he’d probably wipe that smile right off your face by slapping your ass and slamming his lips onto yours. But I know you’d gladly kiss him back, won’t chu’?

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s fairly well kept. He cares about his looks! He doesn’t let anything get too out of hand, but he will make sure that it isn’t bare either. The bare skin freaks him out…

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Everything else seems nonexistent. His energy is so dominating and rough that your body just gives yourself to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He rarely masturbates, why would he when he had you on his couch with you face down ass up?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

We all know this man is kinky, just listen to his voice lines! Degradation kink, choking, hair pulling, and definitely a sub and dom dynamic is in the big book of kinks of his.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He will do it anywhere. He doesn’t care if his family walks in, he doesn’t care if he fucked you in front of a dead body. As long as he can have his hands on you? He does not care.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Killing. Every time he kills someone he needs to let off steam. He just killed someone… he deserves praise, he deserves some pleasing— I’m just gonna get straight to the point, he deserves you on your knees sucking his cock.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Someone else touching you. Doesn’t matter what kind of touch. If a victim even tried to touch you while trying to escape the family, best believe the body won’t even be recognizable when he got done with them. God forbid if it was a man who touched you, consider him missing the next day and Johnny fucking you while he watched, “Ahaha! Ya wish this was you, huh? She’s all you could ever want.”

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

While he loves eating you out and watching you squirm beneath his tongue and feeling your thighs squeeze around his head, he enjoys getting blowjobs unshamfully more. He loves the way you would take all of him at once, and the feeling of your warm mouth all around his hard cock. He likes how your eyes teared up when placed his hand on the back of your head and slowly guiding you deeper and deeper onto his dick. The way your hair got messy while doing it made you seem like something out of the porn magazine he used to look at. Don’t even get him started on when you licked the underside of his dick while staring up at him with those pretty little eyes, he will make sure his tip kisses your cervic when he fucks you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This man loves it fast and rough. He just really fucking enjoys pounding into you more than anything. But, if you really impressed him and made him proud— like killing someone for the first time— his touch is as gentle as a butterfly. His lips slightly graze your skin as his rough fingers rubbed your clit in slow circles.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them. He lives for way your ass looks in that short summer dress, lives for the way you gasp and whine when his fingers go under your dress, lives for the sheer joy of how your fingers frantically grasp at his belt to fuck in the bathroom of his mothers place. God forbid if Nancy heard you too…

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Abso-fuckin’-lutely. He loves taking risks, it gets him going. He almost constantly gets caught killing people— he loves the thrill. Johnny will definitely take risks. The thought of being caught almost exhilarates him. Almost. But the idea of the man that tried to swipe you off your feet was the same man hearing Johnny slam his hips on your ass in bathroom? Oh~ He loves that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for a couple rounds until he finally gets tired out, and he can definitely last a while too. That’s actually very surprising because of how much he smokes. But the last round will always be him pumping him warm thick cum into your aching pussy. It gives him a strong sense of pride knowing you’re walking around with his cum in you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Collars. He would love to put a collar around your pretty lil’ neck. Some of the leather collars hes collected has engravements of ‘Johnnys’ Property’, and ‘Johnnys’ lil’ Slut’. He loved pulling the metal chain, forcing you to sit in his lap. Tugging on the chain he manipulated your body into bouncing on his cock, when you’d cum he’d tighten the collar to overstimulate you, of course. He loved when you bounched your ass onto his length as he tugged on the chain too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Your whole relationship is unfair, what did you expect? You don’t get to tease Johnny, if you somehow did… Sometimes he’ll go along with your teasing. He thought it was cute how you thought you were the one in control. You better hope you’ll be able to sit down due to the hand prints on your ass cheek later.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunts and growls echo in the shack. He loves dirty talking to you, “Like that? Like that you dirty whore? Who knew you’d be so… fuckin’— Mmh— slutty?” With how much he smokes his mental pain away, he huffs and pants more than he’d like, his lungs are slightly given out… it sounds really hot when he’s out of breath at least.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When you drink with him? Oh, he will make out with you. He loves the taste of your tongue when you’ve drunken his favorite alcohol. He loves the way you in your drunkened state sloppy grabs at his shirt and how your tongue rolls out only for him to lick yours back up. Be the time y’all jaws are weak from making out you’ve both passed out on his couch.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His cock is fat, around 7 inches and even though he isn't abnormally big, the way he's gets balls deep into you makes it feel like he's fucking huge, pushing against your cervix at all times. The girth though, fuck, it stretches out your pussy so much, it hurts every time but when the pain subsides? You’re gripping his hair as your calves rest on the back of his ass pushing his hips closer to yours.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is through the roof, by the time you were pulling your panties back up after a quickie his cock was already standing tall once again. The amount of times he’s grabbed your shoulders pushing you down to your knees to fix his raging boner has been… way too many times. “What can I say? It’s your fault. Won’t chu’ fix it for me, sugar?”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won’t fall asleep, it’s very rare that he doesn’t. The only times he will fall asleep is if you too were drunk of your minds. He has chores to do around the property, as much as he’d love to cuddle you he has to make sure his mother doesn’t kill you because to her youre a ‘distraction’… at least you’re a pretty distraction.

[grapejuicestyless]

part 2 for so long london w/ a happy ending please I loved it sm😭😭

loml.

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: After nearly a year apart and an album later, turns out you and Harry aren’t doing as well as you let off to be. Part 2 to So Long, London

Seeing him across the room even after all this time sends chills down my spine. I recall the warm feeling of his hands against my spine and the smell of gunpowder as he aims his pistol at my heart.

It’s funny seeing him now that he’s written down his feelings and published them like a diary for the world to read. I know more about his heart than he led me on to know. I know how he claims to have felt shattered inside with the realization he lost the “love of his life” and how we walked the fine line between being perfect and violently broken. But really, what is perfect when it comes to us?

He wrote down some things I just can’t unabsorb. His songs turning me into more of an idea of sorts. It felt like watching the story of our love from afar. The details were there, but they weren’t quite right. He writes about how we danced in the kitchen listening to trash pop music, but he leaves out the way we always stumbled over the chipped tile by the counters. Does he remember how he’d lead us there purposely so he could wrap his arms around my cold body and save me?

Seeing him now I can feel his eyes drift to mine every couple seconds, his gaze burning into my side profile while I down another glass trying to shake the feeling.

I feel stupid now, seeing him at our best friend’s wedding. He’s in a suit and tie, his hair curled around his eye and a red tint from the sun on his cheeks. I feel even more stupid wearing a green dress on the opposite side of the alter, holding flowers and smiling at how the bride and groom promise themselves in sickness and in health.

I’m not stupid though, I can hear the whispers about how we almost had it all. The flowers picked out from the catalog dull in comparison to the ones we had picked out for each other by the third week together. When I sit with the bridesmaids, I hear their snickers at the bride, how lucky she is to be the first married, how they always thought it would have been me.

But I’m a good friend, and a damn good actress. I can paste on a smile and act like the jokes they sneak into their speeches about how they never saw it coming, telling stories about the newlyweds that should have been about us are funny. But I can’t help the way I start to sweat when they begin to quote the same words Harry had written down for me.

All of our love story written down for the public to use, words he penned on the paper with my face in mind belong to someone new now, “I love you’s” whispered between couples who once dreamed of having a love like ours.

“I remember meeting you in September of last year, you were wearing a yellow dress and red shoes. You didn’t match, but you made it look good. I thought you were beautiful, I just had to have you. And when you decided to go for a guy like me, I knew you were the one instantly. Just like our good friend Harry once said, ‘She’s an angel, my only angel.’” I don’t listen to his heartfelt speech anymore, I can’t even look at the smile on my friends face as he serenades her anymore, I feel like someones just ripped out my heart and claimed it as their own.

And like someone was praying for me to cry, to finally break and show everyone just how not okay I am, his eyes are on mine, and he’s not looking away. When my eyes catch his, I mentally curse myself, wishing I could sink into the seat beneath me. I excuse myself to use the bathroom, grabbing the bottom of my dress to make down the long hallways of the beautiful venue that should have been ours.

“Y/n.” His accent is thick in the foggy room, eyes dimmer than I remember. He runs after me, voices from the reception muffled by the walls put between us.

My eyes trace over his body, studying the way he sighs out my name. Can he hear my heart crashing down as I realize I’ve lost my touch? I cannot tell if he’s relieved or obligated to be standing so close.

I swallow hard, his english accent drawing me back to the place I once loved so much. My new home dulls in comparison to what we once had, and I can’t help but still hold a grudge for him taking that all away from me, for ruining a sacred city and crushing it between his fingers.

“You look good.” I break the awkward silence that falls between us, his lips parted like an idiot, like he ran without thinking and forgot how to talk.

“Me? God, you look breathtaking.”

I would have blushed not long ago, curtsying at his comment and kicking my feet beneath the table cloth, but now the compliment is empty and instead feels backhanded in some odd way.

“Oh…well thank you. I tried my best.” I laugh bitterly, and the shine in his eyes tells me he misses the unhappiness in my giggles.

When he doesn’t speak again, I swear I can feel my skin shifting over my bones every time I breathe.

“Well, it was good seeing you.” I lie through my teeth, turning on my heals and wiping away any tears gathering on my waterline.

“You don’t have to avoid me, you know.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to avoid me. I know things aren’t the same between us, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still look for you in every room I walk into. You’re the love of my life, even now.” He confesses, stepping closer.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t. I’m not in any rooms you’re in anymore.”

“But maybe I wish you were.” He says with a smirk, stepping closer and trying to slip his hand into mine, but it’s like needles stabbing into my skin, I cannot hold onto him, so I slip away.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

He grabs me again, a hold so desperate to keep me in his grasp, one I haven’t felt in a long time. Classic move from Mr. Steal Your Girl. The man who promised rings and cradles, the dame man who swooned over the small things and rolled his eyes as he turned his back. Mr. Make Her Cry.

“Y/n I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

“It’s not. It can’t be, we already did that right?” I turn to him teary eyed, my wrist burning under the grip of his cold rings decorated on his warm hands.

“No, that’s not what that was.”

“Then what was it?”

He swallows, but keeps looking me in the eyes like he means everything he’s preparing to say.

“We were so young. I was scared, and I pulled away. It was wrong, but I thought you’d be better off with someone who wasn’t afraid to grow up.”

“I would have waited. You know that.” He nods.

“I know. But it’s not fair.”

“No, whats not fair is you coming back to me after leaving me stranded in a place I can’t even fucking stand to be near anymore! God, you’re such an asshole, talking rings and talking cradles and then claiming to be scared for a future you planned. You don’t do that, not to the love of your life, and you sure as hell don’t leave them stranded and alone. How dare you think it was romantic to have done that to me?” I spit venom from my tongue, my eyes clouded with tears. “You promised to never leave, then what? Never mind? You think you’re such a hero for leaving me but in reality you’re a coward. Letting me think we had it all, we almost had it all and then you leave? What do I do with myself now that you’ve come back? Do you want me to forgive you? Harry, I might be the love of your life but you’re the loss of mine.”

“I know, I know.”

“Stop saying you know when you don’t!” I scream, quieting down as I remember where we stand, and I silently pray I haven’t spoiled such a beautiful wedding.

“I’m not claiming to have been a good partner, god knows about all my faults and I’ve gone away to fix them, and you’re here now, and I don’t know how I’ll ever find you again if I do not ask now, but I need you to listen to me now before it’s too late because I’ve never felt a hole in my chest like this, and I need you to see how badly I need you back in my life, I need you to trust me when I say I’m committed this time.” He pleads, his hands trembling in mine.

My lip trembles at the feeling of his skin on mine, my face colliding with his shoulder in a suffocating hug, I can feel myself falling back into his wicked grip, but when he holds me like this, it feels more like flying than falling, at least until the bone crush.

Standing in the hallway of a wedding built for us, but dedicated to another, I see us dancing in the kitchen again, the steps burned into my head as we waltz back into rekindled flames. His love is just so warm, fuck it if I get burned, if it falls apart again.

He’s the loss of my life, Mr. Writes Me Love Songs, Mr. Dances With Me In The Kitchen.

But for now, at least under the false illusion’s presented within this luxurious wedding, he’ll be the love of my life.

[arthurthepeoplesprincess]

Arthur returning

As much as I enjoy “Arthur returns” fanfictions where he gets resurrected and rises from the lake, I don’t think it makes sense. It's fun to read about a medieval man in the 21st century (or any future time) and the Merthur reunion, but would he really ‘return’ this way? And if he does, what use would he be in Albion’s moment of need? When is that moment of need, anyway?

In my opinion, I don’t think Albion or the British Isles have only one moment of need, so it would make sense for him to get reincarnated multiple times to serve a purpose in saving Britain. Whether his actions are big or small, whether he succeeds or fails, it doesn’t matter because he will always be reincarnated when needed. That doesn’t mean he would come back at every minor inconvenience just when there’s a really big catastrophe, like a world war.

That being said, Merlin’s role would be to find every Arthur and help him achieve his purpose. You know, two sides of the same coin, so saving Britain isn’t Arthur’s job alone. That’s why Merlin stays immortal, just waiting for the next Arthur, finding him, helping him achieve their purpose, living the rest of Arthur’s life with him, and then Arthur dies and they redo it forever.

This is such torture for anyone to endure, but it’s their destiny. Even if they try to ignore their mission, I don’t think destiny cares it will have its way with them.

Also, in this headcanon (just for extra angst), Arthur doesn’t remember any of his past lives, but when his death comes near, he begins to remember everything slowly until he remembers it all and dies moments later in Merlin’s arms, every single time.

Another headcanon, which is why I wrote this in the first place, is that I love the idea of Merlin having memory boxes where he keeps significant things and memories he has of every single Arthur like Ygraine’s sigil, photos, gifts, love letters, a necklace with Arthur’s picture inside, and maybe diaries where he documents his favorite things about them and how different they all are, even though deep down they are all his Arthur, and he loves them all the same.

In the final scene we see him walking by the lake. He was going to visit the place where he last saw the first Arthur because he misses him so much, and it’s been a while since Arthur was last reincarnated. And Merlin is still waiting for them to meet again.

[jaylaxies]

https://twitter.com/astrauv/status/1732171676224303279?t=LhGkrReVEd18OlpXFED53g&s=19

(nsfw link)

so imagine having jake as a college classmate, only casual interactions with him, offering your notes when he couldn't make it to class, waving at eachother on campus etc etc

yes you did find him vERY attractive, but just like any other person who knew him.

one night your mind decided to play games, wich lend to you waking up drippin in sweat at three am with having a sticky feeling between your thighs, after having a dream with jake where he was eating you out like his life depended on that.

you thought a cold shower would fix that but o boy as soon you saw him enter the classrom that morning, all the heat of your body went to your ears, cheeks and neck

"it's okay if i sit next to you today? i forgot my laptop and don't want to miss the inportant stuff"

he said with a puppy-like smile and that was your last straw

warning: nsfw link!

the dream wouldn’t stop replaying in your mind, and the proximity wouldn’t help either, to have him this close to you but not doing anything about it is nothing less than torture, however you don’t know that he’s been approaching you with the same intent of having you in his bed, to fuck you and have some fun maybe, which doesn’t happen given that his image is very sweet. until one day you do a project with him and stay over, only to find out his diary where he wrote stuff about you, then one thing leads to the other and soon, you’re on his bed with your legs spread open for him as he eats you out like there’s no tomorrow.

[amorgansgal]

The Memory of Shadows

So here we go, the sad Astarion x Reader/Tav fic that made me sad when I wrote it. I've not included a named or gendered tav, so hopefully everyone can enjoy... or not enjoy as the case may be!

Gender Neutral Tav/Reader x Astarion

CW: Grief/mourning, death, depression, suicidal thoughts

He wakes. He takes a moment to look at the gossamer red fabric that drapes over the bed, feels the plush, velvet cover under his fingers, he trails them up to the pillow next to him, its cold blankness always an aching reminder. He hates it and he’s not even sure if it still smells of you, there’s so little of you left. Time is doing that, you slip away from mortal memory, becoming lost to the status of mythical hero, rather than living, breathing, flesh and bone. Like a dull knife forcing its way back into his heart, he aches, everything hurts - though he’d never admit to it.

You’re in books, there’s songs about you, about all of them: brilliant Gale, fierce Lae’zel, clever Shadowheart, noble Wyll, excitable Karlach, even Astarion gets a look in as wily. And you, you were the hero, the glorious leader who led them to victory, who saved Baldur’s Gate. You have the starring role. It seems though, to him, the more that is written and said about you the less real you become. He’s scared of that, you’re shimmering before him, your face drifting like shadows, the memory of shadows. Oh he has paintings of you, they’re all over the house - he put them back up after it became somewhat bearable - but they’re a frozen piece of you, not the real thing. They don’t capture the way your mouth would twitch before you smiled or laughed, the way your eyes sparkled with delight when he had managed to pick a lock or the warmth of your hands when you took hold of his.

‘How long has it been?’ he thinks as he finally gets to his feet. ‘50 years, 80, 100?’ He wrote down the day in a diary, but that too has been lost to this house and he’s not sure if it really matters. Why would it? Knowing there’s a special date to acknowledge your passing doesn’t make any other day hurt less. He’s alone, more so than ever. Gale is gone, Wyll is gone, Lae’zel is gone, Shadowheart passed a few years ago… There’s just him and Halsin and Jaheira, and he’s never exactly been close with either of them. Halsin used to visit when you had passed, you had been close with him after all. But he got the sense Halsin did so out of obligation, rather than actually liking him and when they had exhausted all topics of the past - the nautiloid ship, the druid grove, the goblin camp, the shadow curse, moonrise towers, Ketheric, Baldur’s Gate, Orin, Gortash, the Elder brain, you - and he and Halsin were left with an uneasy silence. A silence that lingered on and on and was close to swallowing them up, until Halsin said he would leave Astarion in peace. As though he even knew what peace meant anymore. Now they only meet when someone else dies. What a grim prospect. Who's next? Probably Jaheira, though that won't be a for a while yet.

He moves over to his wardrobe, even this part of the day holds no joy for him. He doesn’t get to hear your teasing comments about how long he spends carefully selecting his clothes or feel your hands wrap around his waist, your chest pressed against his back, the kisses you would trail down his spine. He presses his lips tightly together, not wanting to let out any whimper of pain or cry of anguish. At times, his darkest, loneliest times, he wonders if he would have agreed to let Cazador torture him for all eternity, if it meant he could just have one more day with you. A single day would be worth it. A single kiss, a single loving touch, a single laugh, a single look. He’d make a deal with all the devils in hell if it meant he got to hold you again for one last time. 

He pulls his hand away from the handle on the wardrobe door. He’s too tired for this and he doesn’t want to do it anymore. He’s in hell already, he may as well see if he’ll get a glimpse of you in the afterlife. He walks over to the heavy draped curtains, his fingers curl on the black fabric lined with golden leaves. You probably won’t be pleased with this, but hopefully you’ll forgive him. He's sure you will. And gods, he would love to see you angry because it would mean seeing you again. He'll take anything he can get. He yanks open the curtains. The sun is brilliant, blinding, burning hot and cold, and the sharp, all encompassing light reminds him of your laugh, your wit, your very being. Maybe he’ll get to see you soon.