#trying so hard to write it all off as some vivid dream
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Scum Villain fic where Shen Yuan wakes up out of a coma and realizes that he just had a very, very vibrant dream about his boy and that web novel he hatereads.
When he gets back home after observation it's so... surreal. He feels so much older now. He's practically lived a lifetime in that dream, even if only a few months have passed.
His room is so... cringe is the word he wants to use, but he can't help but find his past self endearing about it all. Except that line of thought makes... no sense at all. His past self is just him from a couple months ago.
He decides to check up on the story he'd been dreaming about and finds out that, though there were a dozen more chapters, they had stopped updating completely without warning just a few weeks after his own coma.
(The comments after his coma, a few mention him, calling him out or cheering for him finally giving up on the story. Some people even speculate he might have died.)
His old comments were so embarrassing to read, but there's a part of him that... sees his love for Luo Binghe even in these.
Wait, why is he suddenly okay being gay for this protag??
He thinks he probably shouldn't be quite so chill about it.
He wonders what happened to Airplane. He stops himself from thinking too hard on the possibility it could all have been real. That was ridiculous!!
Meanwhile in the world of the system....
Luo Binghe is flipping OUT. His husband his shizun his beloved just up and went POOF. No trace of him, no clue left behind.
(Or is it worse if he dies? The original goods died that night he qi deviated and was replaced by Shen Yuan, so there's no soul there to replace him. Luo Binghe has had to deal with dead Shizun before but this time it's... different.)
Either way, after a whole lot of everyone flipping out, Shang Qinghua seems to know a little too much about... something.
The truth comes out. Luo Binghe admits he's suspected something like that for a while now, but thats not important. He needs his shizun back, so how..?
Cue dimension hopping shenanigans.
#scum villian self saving system#shen qingqiu#luo binghe#shang qinghua#shen yuan#salawriter#im not writing it i just think it would be fun if it existed#post coma shen yuan confused and disoriented and a lot gayer than he realized#trying so hard to write it all off as some vivid dream#even when SQH and LBH (and Mobei Jun) make it to his dimension#Airplane doesnt know where Cucumber lives#just that hes his biggest hater#que a chapter of airplane in bis shitty ass apartment flanked by two oh his hottest ocs while he tries to update his novel#trying to get cucumbers attention#maybe he gives luo binghe a husband for his harem jsut to bait out some comments#anyway i hope people enjoy this silly concept
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i have a lot of nightmares and shake a lot when nervous. could u maybe write something abt a reader that goes through similar issues, and eddie comforts them and tries to make them feel safe? u can do whatever u like with this, i just need some fluff! :]
as someone who also has frequent nightmares, this was very self-indulgent heheh i hope you like it :D — eddie calms you down when you have a bad dream (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of panic attacks, 1.2k)
Eddie didn’t know he loved you until now. Like, right now.
He’d always had an inkling, at the very least, but he didn’t know for sure until he got you into his bed — bare-faced and swallowed whole in an oversized t-shirt older than you are. You share a single pillow with him despite having your own, leaving your noses mere inches apart. His tired eyes go a bit cross-eyed when he looks at you.
Despite his heavy head and heavier eyelids, he doesn’t want to stop looking at you. He doesn’t want to stop talking to you, either. He doesn’t want to fall asleep at all ‘cause he’s scared he’ll miss you too much.
And that’s when he realizes that he’s head over heels, completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with you.
“You asleep yet?” he whispers into the dark bedroom, lit only by the streams of silver moonlight slipping through the curtains.
You shake your head against the pillow you share with him. “No,” you mumble — voice thick with exhaustion, eyes fluttered shut.
“Good,” Eddie replies, shifting on the mattress until he melts further into it. Your cold feet entwine with his warmer ones. He exhales a contented sigh through his nose. “Me neither…”
You can’t be entirely sure who dozed off first, but you know for certain you wake up before he does.
3:47 A.M. blinks at you in bright red numbers on the nightstand. The witching hour greets you along with a rapidly beating heart, thrumming hard against your ribcage like it’s trying to escape from its confines.
The nightmare was a vivid one when it painted the backs of your eyelids, but you can’t really remember it now. You think that might be worse. Now you don’t know why you’re so scared — you just know that you are.
Fear, that’s all you can think about now, as your body trembles with a heavy, ice-cold feeling. Fear. Panic. Dread.
The nightmare fades. Eddie’s body, warm and comforting next to yours, becomes a much more tangible thing. But you just can’t shake the feeling it left behind. The bad dream clings to you like smoke and swallows you whole before you can blink.
You shake with the longing to hold the boy beside you. If only you could clutch onto Eddie like a life vest, or a life-sized teddy bear, maybe then you could soothe your racing heart. But you know you don’t want to wake him, just like you know you don’t want him to see you like this — so torn up over a stupid bad dream.
You sit on the edge of the mattress and try to calm yourself down. The attempt is futile. You end up with a tight chest, a pounding heart, and two cheeks damp with fat tears.
After no longer than five minutes of trying to stave off a panic attack by yourself, do you notice the bed shifting behind you. A wide palm smooths over your trembling shoulders a second later.
Eddie squints at your shivering silhouette, trying to see you better through the darkness and bleary haze of sleep. He finds you slouched over and clawing at your chest like something’s wrong. Your choked-back sobs and quiet sniffles aren’t any less concerning.
“You okay?” the boy slurs as he sits up behind you.
“‘M sorry,” you blurt, voice wet with emotion. You don’t know exactly what you’re apologizing for. You just feel like you should. Through hitched breaths, you manage out, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to wake you— I’m sorry.”
Eddie shakes his wild head in response. The mattress squeaks under his weight as he shifts closer to you. “It’s okay. I woke up on my own,” he tells you, even though that’s not exactly the truth. “What happened, huh? Are you okay?”
You sniffle and try to respond through feeble gulps of air. “It was just a bad dream. I’m okay—” you blubber through tears, breath catching halfway through.
With his palm pressed to your spine, Eddie can feel each of your rattling breaths as you fight to drag them in. It makes his own chest ache. Your panic is his own.
“Breathe, baby, c’mon,” he urges gently as he slips in beside you. With one hand over your trembling shoulder, he slides his other over your heart. The delicate organ patters with an inhuman vigor against his palm.
“Gotta calm down, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your temple before pressing a kiss there. “‘Fore you heart explodes on me. Breathe, babe. You’re okay.”
Your swelling throat tightens. “I don’t feel good,” you confess through tiny whimpers, ‘cause you don’t know how else to tell him it feels like you’re dying. You put a cold, trembling hand over one of Eddie’s — the one gently cradling your heart — and fight to stay grounded.
The boy’s brows pinch with concern. “Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”
You think for a moment. Then shake your head.
Eddie rubs a hand up and down the length of your back. “You’re doing good, babe. Just keep breathing for me. That’s it.”
He pulls you closer, embracing you despite the awkward angle. Your shoulder presses into his chest as your head nestles between his jaw and shoulder. You rest there until it no longer feels like you’re fighting for each breath. Until your ragged sobs turn into mousy sniffles.
The first thing you think to do after you’ve calmed is apologize.
“‘M sorry,” you murmur, thick with leftover emotion.
You feel his head shake against you, untamed curls tickling your skin. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”
You snivel. “I feel like such a baby…”
“Everyone has bad dreams, babe. That’s life,” Eddie tells you with a lighthearted laugh. “I can’t count how many times I’ve slept on the couch after having one just so I could be closer to Wayne. Like, that’s embarrassing.”
“No, it isn’t,” you argue with a scrunched nose, cracking a small (but no less sincere) grin.
Eddie smiles at your smiling. He squeezes your shoulder with a gentle hand. “Wanna talk about it?” he offers, watching as you visibly ponder the question. You shake your head in response. He nods in understanding. “Wanna go back to sleep?”
You shake your head again, much less hesitant this time. You’re too scared to shut your eyes for longer than a blink now — lest the nightmare threaten to plague your mind again.
“Wanna sit in the kitchen with me while I make us some hot cocoa?” Eddie offers then.
You nod slowly, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth to hide the smile pulling there. You can’t help but beam, though, when he smacks a kiss to the warm apple of your cheek.
“C’mon, sweet thing,” he urges as he rises from the bed, pulling you gently with him. He guides you out of his bedroom with a warm hand cradling your smaller one. The quiet trailer fills with the sounds of creaking floorboards, bare feet shuffling against carpet, and Eddie’s tender voice.
“I’ll even pick out marshmallows from the Lucky Charms box to put in your cocoa—” he says before a yawn cuts him off. “—‘Cause that’s how much I love you.”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#stranger things imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble
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OMG. Hiiii. I love Tom Riddle and Theodore Nott. So I am totally going to ask you if you are comfortable to write either Professor Tom or a Professor Theo x fem reader fic with smut. Feel free to ignore this but I really struggle to find Professor Tom fics and Idk how to write them 😅
Professor Tom Riddle x f!reader
Warnings: strong language, toxic behaviour, manipulation, SMUT reader is a student in the beginning (still over 18!), reader becomes a little bit unhinged towards the middle (who wouldn't after meeting TR?) 18+MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Author's Note: Wow, this took me ages to post! I was having a break from this blog due to my exams, but I promise I will be more active from now on. Also, this is actually my first smut! (Idk how to write them either, so I do hope you like it.) I tried to build some plot into it, so it is not just filthy p*rn, haha.
Thank you so much for your request! <3
There are moments that change your life. Moments when you realise you will never be the same and your whole existence is divided into two parts - before this, and after this.
For you, this moment was meeting Tom Riddle.
The memories of that rainy day when your gazes crossed for the first time continue to haunt your thoughts almost every second of your existence. And no matter how hard you try to forget, they become more and more vivid.
Sometimes you wonder if you are actually reliving it or if it is just a fruit of your imagination.
The rain was so cold that day, that your whole body was shivering under your soaking clothes. You were running across the courtyard, trying to get inside as soon as possible. Both of your hands were clutching your bag on top of your head, trying to prevent the water from getting into your eyes. You were almost at the door when your body collided with someone, and you lost your balance falling into a muddy puddle.
You looked up, ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever made you end up like this, but your words got stuck in your throat the moment your gaze crossed his.
Eyes as dark as the night. Skin as pale as the moonlight. Hair falling in elegant curls on top of the most beautiful face you have ever seen. He silently offered you his hand, before he took off his jacket and wrap it around your trembling figure.
"Are you alright?", he asked. His voice was smooth like honey, yet deep. You couldn't do anything else other than slowly nod before your cheeks turned a light shade of red. He offered you a small smirk, before guiding you inside the castle. No words were exchanged between you after that.
Looking back, you are sure that this was the moment that changed your life.
You didn't know who he was at first. He looked so young, that it was natural to assume he was your age. You have not seen him before, so he must be a transfer student, just like you were a year ago.
"He did not wear a robe, so he must not been sorted yet", you said to your friends later that day and they just shook their heads. No one has heard of any transferring students this year, yet here you were claiming you have seen in the flesh the man of your dreams.
And you were almost convinced you were dreaming a few days later when you found yourself sitting in the back of the class, while he was neatly writing his name on the black board.
Professor Riddle.
"As your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I would like to establish a few ground rules right now", his voice was calm but dominant, "Always come prepared. I do not tolerate lazy students. No talking during class. No questions during lessons. If there is anything you do not understand, you can either conduct your own research in the library or visit one of my additional sessions every third Friday of the month."
Unlike you, the majority of the students have already heard of Tom and some even knew him personally, as he graduated just a few years ago. They carefully listened to all his rules, noting everything they should do to stay on his good side. No matter the house, the respect and fear felt towards Tom was felt by all students. You would lie if you said that this did not include you.
Yet in two weeks time during his first Friday session, you found yourself leaning over your notebook, while Tom was calmly explaining the lesson material to you. You were nodding your head, not paying even a little bit of attention to what he was saying. All you could focus on was the sound of his voice and the tingles that covered your whole body every time he lifted his eyes to your face, checking if were actually following.
"I am curious, miss, for the real purpose of your visit today", he said once you started packing your bag. You immediately froze in place, cold sweat forming on the back of your neck. Your trembling hands closed your bag before you turned to him with a tight-lipped smile.
"I am not sure I understand what you mean, professor."
He offered you a small smile, before grabbing his coat and briefcase and making his way towards you. Stopping just a step away from you, he lifted his hands toward your neck, making you gulp. You stood still, expecting him to wrap his hand around your throat, while his eyes burned into yours. His long fingers inched closer and closer to your skin, before wrapping around your tie and adjusting it so it could be centred.
"I am a patient and understanding man, miss", he said, his hand resting on the piece of cloth for a few more seconds, before moving away, "But I am no fool."
And you knew his words to be true. Because if there was a fool here, that was you. You knew it was wrong to pursue the foolish feelings that started to blossom in your chest. Despite the age difference being only a few years, falling for a professor was never a good idea.
But how could you stop yourself when every time his eyes laid upon you there was a feeling of longing behind them?
The small touches on your arms, every time he tried to explain to you the parts of the textbook you claimed "not to understand", the way his lips curved in a small smirk every time you volunteered to help during demonstrations in class, the way his gaze darkened that time he saw your friend's arms wrapped around your shoulders during dinner...
He may have thought he was subtle, but you knew there was some part of him that desired you as much as you did.
"What do you think of me, professor?", you asked one day, while sitting on the desk, arranging papers. As you were the only student who showed any interest in DADA sessions outside the scheduled classes, Tom moved the Friday meetings to his private office. They also started to happen every week, rather than once per month. And often, you were helping him with work, rather the other way around.
"Why?", his gaze lifted from the papers he was grading, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. He laid his pen down, crossing his arms in front of his chest and resting his body back on his chair. You sat next to him on a smaller wooden chair, but your hands did not stop arranging the graded exams, and neither did your focus move from them.
"I am...", you took a deep breath, thinking how to phrase your explanation, "Curious, I guess."
Tom watched you with interest, noting the way that your voice trembled in the beginning. Looking up at your face, his eyes trailed every single one of your features, before stopping at your lips.
"You are a good student", he finally said, his tone flat. Your shoulders immediately slumped and you let out a quiet "Oh.", your fingers now pressing the tower of papers on its sides to make sure it is stable. The silence between you grew longer as you tried your best to hide the disappointment you felt from his answer. Tom, on the other hand, was still staring at your face, trying to read your emotions based on your pursed lips and furrowed brows.
"All finished. I think it is better if I go", you finally said, unable to sit in his presence anymore. You stood up, ready to grab your bag from the floor, when cold fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist halting you in place. Tom stood up from his chair, moving behind you. Laying his free hand on the side of your waist, he leaned towards you, nose just a few inches from your hair. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume, and let out a low groan.
"What I really think...", he murmured, the fingers on your waist digging into your flesh, "is not something I shall voice out loud. The thoughts that flood my mind every time I see you are too..."
Your breath hitched.
"Too?"
"Sinful", you felt his breath on the back of your ear and your body involuntarily shivered. Before you could think of an answer, his hands left your body and he took a step back. You turned around, eager to close the distance again, but were stopped by him grabbing your shoulder and gently pushing you away.
"Do not", he warned, "do not make this harder for both of us."
"But I-"
"I think it is best if you leave."
You gulped. And the first time your eyes did not cast down in shame - instead you held his gaze, your expression hardening.
"You cannot do this to me", your voice trembled, "Toying with my feelings , then pushing me away."
He raised his brow and his hand fell from your shoulder. You stood in place, not making any attempts to get closer.
"I did not do such thing", his voice sounded low and dark, his eyes suddenly turning colder, "In fact, I am telling you now... Whatever hope you hold in your heart about anything happening between us, you should kill it now."
"But you said-"
"I know what I said", he interrupted you impatiently, "And I mean it. But whatever affection I have towards you does not change the fact you are my student."
Your fingers wrapped around the edge of your skirt and you clenched your jaw, moving your gaze towards the door. The rational part of your brain was telling you to just grab your bag and dash through the door. The other part, the one led by your heart, was screaming at you to stay and confront him. It did not take you long to decide which one to listen to.
"Why does it matter?", you snapped, "I am an adult already. And you are only a few years older. It is not illegal or anything!"
Tom let out an annoyed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, before running his fingers through his dark curls. He turned around and walked around the desk, before slamming his hands on the hard surface.
"Merlin, you just do not understand!", his voice was full with irritation, "I can not lose my job. I can not lose everything I have worked for!"
"We can hide it", you protested, gluing yourself to his side and gripping his bicep, "Only for a few months! Only till I graduate!"
The man tore your hands away from his arm, cupping them in his palms instead. He tilted his head, searching your eyes, which were now starting to form tears of stress and frustration.
His face suddenly relaxed. The air between you felt lighter and a new spark of hope started to burn inside of you. His finger made its way to your cheek and wiped one of the tears that started to trail down your skin.
"Is it not curious, how weak love makes a man?", his finger trailed down to your jaw, before cupping it, "And no spell in this world is strong enough to save a man that has already fallen."
Your head instinctively leaned towards his hand and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of warmth of his skin on yours. If you could only freeze time, you would stay in this moment forever.
"I don't want to be saved", you murmured and despite not being able to see him, you could feel the small smile that grazed his lips once you said it. You freed your hands from his and wrapped them around his torso, burying your head in his chest. It took a few seconds for him to embrace your body, resting his chin on the top of your head.
And if you could only see the satisfied smirk and cold gaze on Tom's face, you would have known how true his words are. There is no spell in this world that could save you not that you have already fallen...
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You can't say exactly when the dream had turned into a nightmare.
Private sessions became everyday afternoon meetings, where you talked about different random topics. Tom never opened up about his past, even his Hogwarts years. On the other hand, he was a good listener and without you realising it, he managed to unravel your whole family history just within a week.
His silent nature did not bother you, however. You finally had someone who listened to you. You slowly started to detach from your friends, excusing your unnatural behaviour on all the extra academic work you were taking. They were worried, but every time they tried to voice their concerns, you rolled your eyes, before running to Tom to tell him about their words.
"They are just jealous of you, my dear, " he would always chuckle, gently stroking your cheek, "because you found what they would keep searching for a long, long time."
Soon, he was the only person you really trusted. And he claimed he felt the same.
This is why he couldn't ask anyone else to sneak into the Headmaster's office and get the little leather diary in one of his desk drawers. This is also why you had to find a way to get the books he was interested in from the restricted section without getting caught. This is also why you had to lure the naive fifth-year Hufflepuff into the Chamber of Secrets and leave her there.
There was simply no one else whom he trusted to do these tasks. And you gladly completed each of his requests without question, doing everything in your power to keep him happy.
But soon this was not enough. And once you graduated all the promises he made to you broke into thousand little pieces, which were discarded into thin air.
"I don't need you anymore", his cold voice said, his eyes glued to the papers in front of him, "You can leave. Make sure you close the door."
Without sparing you even a glance, he grabbed the pile of papers and left for class, leaving you to gather your thoughts and pieces of your heart by yourself.
What did you do wrong?
Why did he change so suddenly?
Was it all a lie?
These questions continued to poison your mind for the next few years, while you tried to rebuild yourself. You did not realise how dependent you were on him, till you were left on your own. The weight of all the unsaid feelings within you was forcing you onto your knees, making you unable to get up and continue with your life.
And this is how two years after your graduation you found your way back to Hogwarts. The place where it all began...
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The wooden clock on the wall was ticking dangerously close to midnight when Tom finally got to his office. The teacher's gathering has been prolonged unnecessarily due to Dumbledore's ramblings and him finding problems where there are none. The amount of control the young professor has exercised to endure this long meeting has left him completely drained of energy, but he knew he still had to do some research about the Founders' Relics. After so many years he was finally getting close to achieving his goal and he was ready to sacrifice as many nights of sleep as necessary.
He knew something was not right the moment he opened the door. The lights were still off and everything seemed to be in the exact place he left it... but there was just the faintest sound of someone breathing which made him immediately reach for his wand.
"Ah, look who finally came", your giggle reached his ears before he saw you turning on his chair, fingers moving towards the small lamp on his desk, "Terribly rude of you to make me wait this long."
Tom's lips pressed into a thin line and his grip around his wand tightened. He traced his eyes over the visible parts of your body, noting the little changes that had occurred since he last saw you.
Your hair, which was usually neatly combed and put in a bun, was now in a messy braid, the front pieces framing your face. Your lips, which usually curved in a shy smile, were now forming an arrogant, almost sinister smirk. Your eyes, which have always looked up to him full of admiration, were now staring down at him with a glint of insanity.
"Get out", he commanded, striding towards you with his wand pointed towards your head.
Your raised your eyebrows and your mouth shaped an "o" in a mock horror, before you reached for your own wand, pointing it back at him.
"Now that is not a way to welcome your ex-lover, is it?", your eyes squint.
Tom scoffed at your words, stopping at the edge of his desk, before his expression hardened.
"You were never my lover", he stated, his head tilting to the side, "And I thought I was extremely clear when I said last time I saw you that you are not welcome here."
You hummed, eyes moving to the ceiling. Still holding your wand towards him, you relaxed further into his chair, lifting your legs onto his desk. With a curious gaze, you followed the stone patterns of the walls around the room, while scrunching your face in disgust.
"3 years, Tom", you finally said, landing your attention back on him, "3 years you have been here and your office is as bland as it was when you first came here. It brings my mood down, you know? It's so grey!"
"You can leave then", Tom hissed through his teeth, making a few more steps till he stayed right in front of you. The tip of his wand rested under your chin and he pulled it upwards, making you look up, "I am giving you exactly a minute to leave, before I take your life."
A loud giggle left your lips and you pressed your neck further into his wand.
"How generous!"
"45 seconds."
You gently put your own wand back into your pocket, not moving your eyes from his. Tilting your head, your mouth formed a wide smile.
"Okay."
His brows shot in confusion, his jaw clenching. You could see his on the wand became tighter, his knuckles almost white.
"Okay?"
"Do it", you shrug your shoulders, "My ghost will be eager to see how are you going to explain why your new assistant went missing after coming to your office to drop a list of all the students that are going to be in your... our class this year."
Before you know it, his free hand flew to your face and gripped your face. His fingers dig into your jaw, lifting it dangerously close to his face.
"My assistant?", he let out a dry chuckle, "Good try, dear. And a terrible way to waste that minute I gave you."
With lips already starting to form the words of the deadliest spell, his fingers dug deeper into your face, before his eyes landed on the sparkling object in your palms. The unforgivable words quickly died in his throat and he withdrew his wand, stumbling back. Eyes full of anger met yours, who in contrast were sparkling with playfulness.
"How did you get that?", he demanded, reaching towards the object, but you pulled it back, before laying it on your head. Putting your elbows on his desk, you fluttered your eyelashes, smiling brightly.
"Do you think it suits me?"
"Stop playing around."
"You are such a bore", you rolled your eyes, "I went on a holiday to Albania. And I found this gorgeous, gorgeous diadem, which turned out to be Rowena Ravenclaw's. What are the chances?"
Tom seemed unamused by your story, instead twitching his jaw. His eyes stayed glued to the diadem on your head, the reflection of the sapphire on it sparkling in his cold eyes.
"How did you know where it was?", his gaze moved towards you, his hand putting his wand back in his coat. His tall form moved towards you again, this time taking a seat on the empty surface of the desk in front of you. With a smile, you took the diadem out of your head, twirling it between your fingers.
"You don't think you were the only one who managed to charm the famous Helena Ravenclaw, do you?", you raised your eyebrow, moving your tongue across your top lip, "You underestimate the power of women's empathy and love for gossip, Tom."
He let out an airy laugh, running a hand through his thick curls. After two years, he hasn't changed anything about his appearance. His face, his haircut, and even the suits he wore were the exact same ones he already wore when you were a student. You would lie if you said you didn't enjoy it - that meant that the Tom you loved was still somewhere inside of him.
Your Tom.
"I'm impressed", he finally said, moving his hands towards his knee and locking his fingers around it. His face dropped into a serious expression once again, "Give it to me."
You tilted your head, pursing your lips. Your eyes moved to the diadem, before landing back on him.
"Oh, I can't do that, Tom", you rested your palm on your chest, looking up at him with doe eyes, "He would be very disappointed if I don't bring it back to him."
Tom took a deep breath, his upper lip twitching.
"He?", he pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek, "Who is "he"?"
You twirled in his chair, pressing the diadem closer to your chest.
"My Lord, of course", you let out a giggle, resting your cheek on your shoulder and closing your eyes. You still managed to see the way Tom's body tensed, however.
"He sent his regards to you", you smiled, standing up, "If you hadn't left me that day, he wouldn't have met me and subsequently learned all about making horcruxes."
The man's eyes immediately darkened and his hand flew towards your wrist, stilling you in place.
"Name."
"Huh?"
"Tell me his name", Tom hissed, his nostrils flaring. You stepped closer to him, noses almost brushing.
"And why would I do that?", you raised your brows, your voice turning into a mocking laugh, "Do you think I would betray him... for you?"
The sudden feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward made you almost lose your balance and you grabbed his shoulder in reflex to keep you from falling on top of him. Nesting his head in the curve between your neck and shoulder, Tom pressed his lips next to your ear before muttering:
"You, my dear, are a liar", his teeth grazed the end of your earlobe, "And a very bad one."
Your whole body froze and you tried to push yourself away from him, but his arms were holding you firmly in place. Suddenly all the confidence you have displayed in his presence so far melted under the warmth of his touch, and you were left only with the hope you could still lie your way out of this situation.
"I am not lying", you protested with a quickening breath.
Tom lifted his head from your shoulder and rested his forehead on yours instead. His eyes stared deep into your own and his warm breath on your face made your whole body involuntarily tremble.
"I have already told you I am not a fool", one of his hands slid from your waist towards your arm and then hand, where you were still clutching the diadem. His fingers wrapped around it and pulled it out of your grasp with ease. Without looking at it, he placed it on the desk behind his back, before his hand found its way to the top of your head.
"I know you better than you know yourself, my dear", he muttered, his hand gently stroking your hair, "And I know there is no room in your heart for anyone but me. You would not be here otherwise."
He pulled back enough to be able to take a better look at your face. His gaze fell from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.
"You are mine. Always were, always will be."
A loud whine escaped your throat before it was swallowed by Tom's mouth on yours. His plump lips were chapped, a result of hours of his teeth sinking into them, trying to hold back all the snarky remarks he had for his fellow colleagues. The rough feeling made your knees buckle and you closed your eyes, relaxing fully in his arms.
Without breaking the kiss, he turned you around and with a swift move of his hand, pushed the diadem and a few books out of the way, before laying you on the cold surface. Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging the soft curls.
A low growl left his lips and he lifted his lips from yours, a trail of saliva connecting them, before it was broken by his fingers cupping your chin.
"This is what you wanted, is it not?", his voice was suddenly deeper and darker, "For me to take you on the same desk I once you graded you."
His words made a loud moan to escape you and your back arched up, seeking nothing more than to be close to him. With a low chuckle, he pressed his palm between your breasts, pushing you flat on the furniture beneath you. You opened your mouth to complain but were quickly silenced once he pushed his index and middle fingers in your mouth, almost making you choke. Fixating your gaze on his, you closed your lips around them and started to suck, making sure to flatten your tongue in the process.
The image before your eyes was something you had dreamt of countless times before - Tom, with his messy curls and parted lips, panting while the fingers of his free hand were skilfully unbuttoning his vest. You did not waste any time in helping him, focusing on shakingly unbuttoning his belt.
"So impatient", he clicked his tongue, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth, so could remove his shirt. Once his torso was in full view, you did not hesitate even a second before you lifted yourself in a sitting position and attached your lips to his neck. Nibbling and sucking the smooth skin, you started to nibble and suck your way down to his chest. His head fell back and he closed his eyes, his muscles relaxing under you.
Tom Riddle may not be a man who was capable of love, but he was a man after all. And it would be a lie to say he has never thought of you in a more... erotic way. You have always been so obedient and good, doing everything for him without any hesitation. He has always found that incredibly attractive, but not enough for him to act on his desires.
Now, however, the sight of you has ignited some primal urges within him that he never felt before. Maybe it was the few drinks he had consumed prior at the gathering or maybe it was the idea of the the crazy lengths you were willing to go in order to get back to him...
Tom Riddle would probably never know the reason for him giving up control for the first time in his life. To you, nonetheless.
His mind came back to reality when he felt you pushing him on his chair and nestling yourself between his legs. Looking up at him, you tugged his pants and boxers down, letting his erection free. You let your index finger gently caress the length of it, making it twitch. A small giggle left your lips before you repeated the gesture.
"Stop teasing me", the man groaned, and his palm rested behind your head in order to push you towards his member, but you swiftly moved to the side dodging it. You squinted your eyes, moving your hands to his thighs and digging your nails into them.
"You", the word was hissed through your teeth, "are in no position to order me around."
Tom scoffed and was about to argue when your mouth unexpectedly wrapped around the head of his penis, twirling your tongue around it. He let out a choked gasp and he tried to put his hand on your head again before you smacked it away. Swallowing his pride, he rested both of his arms on the side of his chair, bucking his hip forward.
Carefully watching his reaction you wrapped your hand around him, slowly moving it down and back up again, following the movement of your mouth. The feeling of him filling your mouth was causing some saliva to start dripping your chin, but rather than pulling away, you pushed him further into your mouth till your nose was buried in his dark pubic hair. The feeling of his swollen head hitting the back of your throat made you gag, causing Tom to groan in pleasure.
"Fuck this", he muttered, before grabbing you by your hair and pulling your head up, before pressing it down again. His hips buckled in harmony with your head, making sure you were taking all of him. His dick was now coated in your saliva, making it glisten in the dim light. You closed your eyes, the lack of oxygen making them sting. The rapid pace with which he was moving was making it hard for you to breathe through your nose and you tried giving him a warning slap on his leg, which he purposefully ignored. Instead, he moved his other hand towards your chin and held your head still, while he continued to thrust his hips up and down. Sloppy wet noises filled his office, being interrupted only by his heavy breathing.
Your thighs clenched together in a weak attempt to relieve the burning ache between your legs. The way he was using your mouth to satisfy himself was making your underwear damp, yet you knew better than to touch yourself yet. After so many sleepless nights during which you tried to relieve yourself, imagining how would it feel to taste him, you wanted to focus all your attention only on him.
Feeling he was close, Tom finally pulled your head back and examined your face. Both saliva and tears were smeared all over your chin and your cheeks were flushed in rosy colour.
"What a pretty sight you are, my dear", he smiles, wiping some of it with his thumb. You licked your lips, getting up on your feet.
"And you are such a smooth talker", your face leaner just inches from his, "I wonder if you are as good with the action as you are with words."
Taking this as a challenge, he stood up and pushed you back onto the desk, before lifting your skirt. His fingers hooked under the elastic bands of your panties and with one tug they snapped, leaving you completely exposed in front of him.
Tom gulped, burning the image of your waiting arousal into his mind. His fingers made their way towards your slit, gathering the wetness before easily sliding his middle finger in. You moaned at the contact, fluttering your eyes closed. He pumped his fingers a few times, his eyes carefully observing your facial expression before he slid it out. You whined at the loss of contact, opening your eyelids only to find him smirking down at you.
"Do you really think you deserve me wasting time on your pleasure?"
"Fuck you!", you snapped, resulting in him grabbing your neck and squeezing so hard, an airy cough left your lips.
"Such a dirty mouth", he lifted your face up, his jaw clenching, "but such a weak mind. Look at the pathetic mess you are..."
Your lips parted to offer a snarky response, but your mind quickly went blank the moment he slid fully into you. Arching your back, your hands found their way around his shoulders, while his rested on both sides of your head.
Tom did not waste any time in developing a quick pace, which made you roll your eyes back. With each thrust the head of his cock was brushing against your cervix, making your whole vision white. His left hand moved towards one of your breasts, pinching and twisting the oversensitive nipple between his fingers. His other hand made his way to your pussy, where his thumb started to draw sloppy circles over your clit.
Never in your life have you felt such pleasure in your life. Of course, you had previous lovers during the past two years while trying to get Tom out of your mind, but nothing compared to this. Curling your toes, you lifted both of your legs and rested them on his shoulder.
Both of you groaned in unison when you felt him going even deeper than before. His upper body collapsed on top of yours, his lips immediately latching onto your other nipple. Still gripping his shoulders, you dragged your nails down his back, leaving angry red marks behind.
The knot in your stomach started to tighten and your moans became louder and louder. Moving your hips so you can meet Tom's thrusts, you looked at his face, only to find him staring back with eyes clouded with desire. His fingers were now working faster on your sensitive bud and you let out a shaky breath:
"Tom, I...", you could not finish your sentence, your vocabulary suddenly consisting only of his name.
"Shhh", he whispered, his hand moving from your breast to your cheek. He gently stroked it with his thumb and suddenly you saw in front of you the same Tom that charmed you years ago, "I've got you."
His words were enough to cause the knot to snap and your whole body went rigid, squeezing and pulsating around him. A few harsh trusts and Tom suddenly tensed on top of you, as he painted your insides white. You both held onto each other, fingers digging into soft flesh, as you melted into your shared euphoria.
It was not romantic.
It was primal.
Rough.
Dirty.
It was everything you have imagined.
Finally relaxing on top of you, Tom buried his head in your shoulder, trying his best to calm his breathing down. You laid under him, crushed under his weight, yet enjoying every second of the contact he allowed you to have.
Against your better judgment, you lifted your hand and started to gently stroke his hair.
Against his better judgment, he allowed you to and closed his eyes in the process.
Tired from the long day and your office activity, Tom lifted you in his arms, his now soft member slipping out of you and he sat back on his chair, adjusting the backrest so you can both take a more comfortable position.
You lifted yourself from his chest and raised your eyebrow, but bit back your tongue the moment your gaze crossed his stern one, warning you not to voice whatever you had in your mind. Letting out a small chuckle, you shook your head and laid it back down on his skin.
There was an urge burning inside of you to mock him about showing gentleness, but deep down you knew this was your only chance to enjoy it. So you closed your eyes and relaxed, finally being able to fall asleep without the haunting dreams of what could've been.
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The sunlight was painting the whole room in a beautiful gold colour and Tom let out a low groan when he felt it hitting his face. His hand made its way over his eyes, shielding them from the light, while his mind slowly started to become aware of his surroundings. The uncomfortable chair was making all of his muscles ache and he immediately regretted not gathering the energy last night to make his way back to his room. The chill air coming from the window has not helped too, especially when we was only partly covered and-
Tom's eyes shot open looking down at his body and finding his suit jacket thrown over his waist and private parts. You, however, were not to be found.
Not on top of him, not on the desk, nowhere in the room.
He immediately stood up, grabbing his pants from the floor and furiously putting them on, while breathing heavily. His gaze fell on the stack of books he pushed from his desk last night and he immediately fell on his knees, scanning the floor around him.
"No, no, no", he hissed under his breath, pushing his hair out of his eyes, "That little serpent!"
Not only you have left, but you also have taken the diadem with you. No matter how much he searched for it, it was definitely not here.
You tricked him.
Getting up back to his feet, Tom kicked one of the books on the floor, before slamming his hands on his desk. His breathing was hard and he could feel his blood boiling in his veins. Suddenly, his attention was caught by a small parchment of paper placed next to his quill. Unfolding it, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second.
"My dear Tom,
Thank you for our wonderful night together. I did not want to leave you so early, but I had to be out of the castle before everyone else woke up.
To be truthful with you, I am not going to be your new assistant. But your already knew that, so I guess it is not shocking news. I sneaked it yesterday when all of the teachers were having a party (or what you call a gathering, ha!).
Neither do I have a new lord. You already knew that as well.
Do not stress about the diadem, as it is safe with me - if there is one thing I learned from you is that I need to take good care of horcruxes once they are made. I know it was probably foolish of me to bring it to you last night, as it does hold a part of my soul, but I promise that from now on I will take better care of it.
Without doubt your paths shall cross again. Remember Tom:
You are mine. Always were, always will be.
Love,
y/n
P.S. - I hope you do not mind that I helped myself by getting your keys from your jacket and getting a shower in your room. Also, I think you need to follow your own advice and start putting your objects away. I found your diary resting on your bedside table, so I had to take it with me. Do not worry - I promise I will keep it safe...
for now."
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CC artwork: Nasan Hardcastle
#tom riddle#tom riddle imagine#slytherin imagine#tom riddle smut#professor tom riddle#professor tom riddle imagine#tom riddle x reader#professor tom riddle smut
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𝐏𝐀𝐂 : 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐒
☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ🌔☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ🌕☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ🌖☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ
• what are they ?
• how to use their full potential ?
• advice from your guides .
Pile 1-2-3-4
♡︎ masterlist , paid readings
Pile 1 :
• what are they ?
I believe you have the gift of claircognizance , your thoughts are vivid and sometimes in them lie the messages for the future, you receive downloads and ringing in your left air . A lot of you here might belong to the lemurian starseed . You also have the ability to ward off evil , like getting into the room and sensing that their is a spirit around and doing something to get rid of them . I get the image of an African priestess in my mind . Your astrology is also so on point , don't doubt yourself, you're going just right.
• how to use their full potential ?
What I get for you is observe more , you're too busy thinking and doing that you can't sit in a place and just plainly wait on life , enjoy the silence , try guided meditations, they will help you unlock what truly you are capable of . I see literally purple eyes , you must be really powerful like really. You might also have relations with the element thunder , if not just know you are potent during thunder storms .
• advice from your guides .
This is general advice . Your guides say first of all that pay your rent and clean your study or table beside you . Go out with your family. Don't contemplate on the issue that that's occurred with you and your senior or boss , it will calm down and it's not even your fault so chill for now, get some coffee and talk to an old friend or lover to feel better .
Pile 2 :
• what are they ?
Your abilities surround recurring visions in your dreams and telepathy, your dreams are very significant and vivid and i believe the higher power you believe in uses this method to communicate to you , not just about yourself but also the people around you . I believe your mom also may have the same ability and it has been passed through generations. Your telepathy is something you have developed because of separation from someone, since then i heard you have been doing it consciously or unconsciously
• how to use their full potential ?
You need to sleep with knowing and wake up by trying to remember what actually happened while you were asleep , when you try to get into this , you'll get insights on what will happen and things about your own soul , just write down what you have to remember. I think you should also do some candle manifestation to remember. Touch old books or things just to see if your abilities are working, what do you infer about the owner of the book .
• advice from your guides .
Very soon you'll be getting something big , like fame or money , you'll become famous for your craft or your face , the way you carry yourself effortlessly, you'll get modelling contracts, you have worked really hard and it will pay off , your guides are really proud of you and I'm so happy for youuuu coz finally your dream of being rich and famous will be all yours , now go baddie have some butterscotch ice cream.
Pile 3 :
• what are they ?
Your spiritual gifts relate to summoning energies and entities, fighting in the astral , and clairsentinence . I feel you also get shivers around entities . Some of you talk to walls and your home spirits hear and guide you . You also might get a bit frightened from your abilities, it's understandable no one wants to go around seeing ghosts but you know you have this gift for a reason so believe in what the universe has planned for you , stuff will unfold so beautifully for you i promise
• how to use their full potential ?
I get that you should use crystals , you also need to work on your confidence to handle greatness you need strength and you have that I assure you , you just need more to feel safe and secure . Believe in the power of touch , don't hold back your feelings okay , just because someone can't handle your emotional range doesn't mean you should decrease yours alright.
• advice from your guides .
This is general advice, Your guides are letting you know that if you have been wondering if you should make an altar for the Deity in your mind , yes they want to connect to you , I get something about peach colored flowers and cork of a bottle , i hear Dionysus as well , don't hold back you got this . Clean your room and talk to your siblings they need you right now .
Pile 4 :
• what are they ?
Your spiritual gifts surround Clair audience , you maybe an empath . Your gift in itself is to bring radical change in people's life , you are a spiritual awakening for people, showing them their path is your mastery . Reiki , healing and tarot are also something you are blessed with . Your inner light is really so radiant , that it brightens the entire room . Talking to you for a while brings realisations , that's why you really have to protect your energy !!!!
• how to use their full potential ?
Stop helping idiots with your gifts , okay i see some people are not at all grateful about what you do for them , whatever you are doing for someone ungrateful is also energy wasted, instead ask your intuition if this is worth it , go to an old age home and seek homage from the old , it will help you . Practice methods of protection and grounding.
• advice from your guides .
This is general advice. Moisturize your skin and do your projects or paper work soon , study , i feel they are telling you to finish your work now because later there's some occasion and you won't get time to focus on these things . Take a trip alone maybe somewhere near or far wherever possible . Learn cooking, it will help you in the long run
I hope this helped and resonated 🌕
Wishing you a great day / night ahead ;))
#pacreading#pac reading#pac readings#pac#pac tarot#pick a photo#pick a picture#pick a pile#pick a card reading#pick a card#tarot card reading#tarot deck#tarot reading#intuitive tarot reading#intuitive reading#intuitive readings#tarot community#witchy#psychic
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Your Delicate Point Of View
Summary : you & harry switch bodies. and well, you’ve both always been fairly curious.
TW : smut
Word Count : 2k
A/N : there is zero plot, i’ve just been wanting to write this very bizarre piece of smut. lets just go with it ya ? ✌️
you weren’t sure how it happened. weren’t even sure when it happened. and you didn’t notice until you start to stir from your sleep, arm reaching out instinctively for harry, only for your hand to smack down hard on the nightstand.
you blink your eyes open, squinting hard at the mid morning light, and when the fuck did you switch sides ? you always lay on the left side of the bed, when did you end up on harry’s side ?
as sleep lifts from you more and more, your eyes starting to focus clearer to your surroundings, something feels off. eyebrows furrowing, your pupils fall on the hand that fell on the nightstand. is that harry’s hand ?
you blink hard and fast, willing any fogginess away, your eyes now properly focused, both hands above you, twirling them around, trying to process why you’re looking up at harry’s hands. but you were moving them ? what the absolute fuck ?
you chance to look next to you, hoping, praying, that this is some kind of really fucked up, vivid dream. but when you end up face to face with, well, your face, and your body, panic starts to set in.
you tentatively poke your body awake, watching it stir, groaning, “s’early, love.”
you notice the furrow in your eyebrows, eyes squinting open and looking back at you, jumping up as realization seems to set in quicker than it did for you.
“what the-“ harry cuts himself off, your voice coming our of what he assumed would be his mouth, completely threw him. because really, why would he assume otherwise. but now he’s staring back at his body, slight panic etched on his features.
“harry,” you whimper quietly, scared and looking for your boyfriend’s comfort.
“lovie,” he coos, noticing the need for consolation, pulling you into him, uh well, you.
and it was all sorts of awkward. harry is not at all used to being so short and small. you’re not used to the lanky limbs and extra muscles.
but you somehow manage, harry’s body being tucked into yours, harry giving your head, his head, a few kisses. which he did as a form of comfort to you, while simultaneously freaking himself out because he’s kissing the top of his own head, and he never knew the smell of his own hair could bring such a sense of calm. it seems your body still reacts the same way to certain things, muscle memory and all that. doesn’t mean it’s any less freaky, harry thinks to himself.
“we’ll figure this out, yeah ?” harry hums, still getting used to hearing your soft melodic tone as he speaks.
“uhh, harry,” you murmur, a hint of embarrassment in your tone, biting your lip, his lip, as you look up, “you’re hard.”
“what ?” he asks confused, pulling his body away to look at you properly, “what are you on about, love ?”
without any words, you look down to harry’s lap, nodding, before looking back up. and realization dawns on him. his body betrays him every morning, in the form of a stiffy. something he either sneaks off and takes care of, or waits for you to wake up and take care of.
but this. this feeling was so foreign to you. not only did you now have a whole extra appendage between your legs, you had a whole extra appendage that was incredibly hard and absurdly uncomfortable pressed up to some all of a sudden much too tight boxer shorts.
“just-“ harry hums, his hand, your hand, reaching out on instinct to give a pull. he knows all too well how you must be feeling, never too much of a comfortable situation. he can’t imagine how it must feel for you. doesn’t exactly remember the first ever time he got a stiffy, but it was surely shocking none the less.
but as his hand, your hand, wraps itself around his hard prick, he’s stunned to hear the loud moan come out of you, out of his throat, at the mere slight touch. “s’it good ?”
“fuck, does it always feel like this ?” you ask, biting your lip, his lip, a ragged breath escaping you, eyes looking up in slight embarrassment.
“yeah, pet. s’always like that,” harry chuckles. “fuck, this is weird isn’t it ? we can’t possibly-“ he cuts himself off, heat working its way up to his cheeks, your cheeks, as it simultaneously works its way down to his, your, core. “kinda wanna try,” he hums, knowing that you’ll surely understand what he’s trying to say, because christ, it is much too weird to speak out loud. “are you curious too ?”
and well, yes, you were curious, especially after that glorious touch harry just provided. besides, who isn’t curious ? who wouldn’t be intrigued in knowing how sex feels for the opposite form of genitalia ?
but fuck, could you really ? because at this moment you’re staring back at yourself and you’re expected to what ? start snogging yourself ? “it’s so fuckin weird,” you murmur. “so curious, but fuck, s’weird kissin on myself.”
harry chuckles, a playful twinkle in his eye, your eye, when he looks up, nodding, “it is weird. s’fuckin weird. but like you said, m’so curious. what if we keep our eyes closed ?”
you close your eyes, his eyes, biting hard on your, his, bottom lip, whispering, “you make the first move.”
and so he does, because as weird and as mind boggling as this entire morning has been so far, he can’t lose the opportunity to feel this. feel what you feel. so he tentatively leans forward, kissing your neck, his neck, trailing slow, tiny pecks up the side from shoulder to ear.
harry places his, your, hands onto your, his, hips, squeezing as he coos against your ear, his ear, “feel like my insides are vibrating. s’that your clit that m’feeling ? s’so achy, fuck.”
that manages a chuckle out of you, smirking, “now imagine that times a million, when you get in your teasy moods and wont touch.”
“m’sorry. fuck, gotta grind down on something,” he whines, “so different from a stiffy. christ, how are you feeling pet ?”
“s’so hard. it hurts, harry,” you whimper, feeling his, your, head tucking itself in your, his, neck, taking a shaky breath.
“wanna do something about that ?” he asks, hopeful. he’s never felt such an intense throbbing sensation. needs to quell it, needs to squeeze your thighs. needs to rut down on something, needs to be filled. fuck, he never thought he’d completely understand the intensive need to be filled up. but it’s the perfect description for how he’s currently feeling. your body needs to be fucked. and based on the tent happening in his boxers, he can assume his body wants the same thing.
“i do,” you whine breathily, “guide me harry ?” you ask, still not wanting to open your eyes, feeling him position you on top of him, slotted between his, your, wide open legs.
“wait,” harry whispers, “can you- “ he cuts himself off, slight embarrassment etched into the tone of voice. “i know your body’s used to it, but can i have a finger first ?”
“fuck,” you breathe, “of course harry.” because you absolutely remember how nerve wracking your first time was. so you tentatively reach down between your bodies, fingertips ghosting over your cunt.
this was something you were fairly used to, you knew how to make yourself feel good, and honestly you were a bit excited to show off your skills for harry.
he shudders beneath you, taking a deep breath, as your finger gently flicks over your clit, stomach muscles flinching, harry gasping through a breath, “oh fuck.”
you keep stroking from your entrance to your clit, adding more pressure, listening to harry’s breathy moans, his fists tight in the bedsheets, as you coo, “s’it feel good ?”
“christ, poppet,” he groans, hips bucking on instinct, “need to feel more.”
“remember this when things go back to normal,” you reply smugly, your middle finger slipping effortlessly into your heat, curling up immediately, hitting that spot inside you that you know so well.
harry’s hips, your hips, raise off the bed slightly, back curling, loud whimper escaping the depths of his, your, chest, “jesus fuck-“ he cuts himself off, hips rolling into your hand.
as you add a second finger, his eyes, your eyes, roll back, body trembling more and more, “christ, poppet, s’so fucking good, fuck. so good.”
“want more ?” you ask quietly, wanting, needing, some relief yourself. having a painfully hard prick was not something you were getting used to any time soon. and now that you’d gotten over the initial shock of hearing yourself moaning back at you, you wanted nothing more than to fall into this the same way harry seems to be doing.
“please,” he whispers around a breath, feeling your, his, lips press against his, yours. with both your eyes closed, mouths occupied with kissing, for a moment absolutely nothing felt out of place. this was a groove you could both fall into, in a natural way.
slight nerves overtook you as your touch leaves your cunt, guiding harry’s cock into yourself.
“fuck,” you both groan, foreheads falling together, harry gasping for air, holding onto you for dear life.
you could feel your walls split themselves apart, could feel the first push from the head of harry’s cock. the overwhelming warmth, the powerful clench, the drowning wetness, it was all so much.
and fuck, harry’s never felt anything so brain fogging in his life. having something quite literally split him open and thrust into the deepest depth of his, your, tummy, legs falling open in an invitation for more. there was nothing more exhilarating, nothing more intimate, that he’d ever experienced.
“fuck, harry,” you whine, hips thrusting at a steady pace, feeling so overwhelmed , so deliciously good, so skin tingly warm, but you had no idea how to control this body. no idea how to prolong this. you were just learning how to properly work his muscles, holding back an orgasm was a bit of a stretch.
it almost felt like losing your virginity all over again. without any awkward, slight discomforting moments. a brand new feeling entirely. one of intense pleasure.
“feels good, yeah ?” harry groans, working through the dizzying clusterfuck in his brain, unsure how to process this feeling, in an attempt to still be there for you. his typical role not being pushed aside easily, although the reversal does a fair job at trying. it’s obvious that your body likes what it likes, and being on the submissive end seems ingrained in your bones. but harry’s brain is desperate to fight it, every ounce of his being needing to be sure you were okay.
“so fuckin good, christ, don’t know how to hold back,” you whine, hands landing on your breasts, needing something to hold onto. with your, his, thumb and forefinger, you’ve got your nipples in a tight grip, harry groaning louder, back arching to press your chest further into his hands.
“christ, shit-“ harry moans loudly, “fuck, don’t hold back, cum with me, yeah ?”
and if the desperation in him wasn’t enough, it was absolutely the hard clench of your cunt, as harry felt his orgasm peak, that tipped you over the edge.
“fuck, fuck,” you groan with each spurt of hot white cum, coating the insides of your walls, cock rutting deeper and deeper with each wave bubbling out.
harry’s jaw, your jaw, is slack, breathy pants and whimpers echoing through the room, as he comes down from the most body wrenching orgasm he’s ever felt.
“thank you,” he whispers, catching his breath, fingertips instinctively rubbing your, his, arms as you come down as well.
you hum, nodding and smiling in bliss, “can’t believe that just happened.”
harry chuckles, kissing his head, “weirdest fuckin thing i’ve ever done. wouldn’t change a thing.”
Part 2
……
Masterlist
tags : @gorlsinmultifandoms
#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles masterlist#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles writings#one direction#writings#justmeinatree
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So I have a really big mask kink 🙈 I would love to read about Sebastian wearing a mask and mc not knowing it’s him until he takes it off. ❤️
P.s. I love your writing😊
Mask Kink - Sebastian Sallow X F!MC
Thank you so much! I’m so pleased you like it! I really hope I do this one justice for you 😘
🔥NSFW 🔞 MDNI
Warnings: slight non-con, masked stranger fantasy, clit spanking, unprotected p-in-v
1.5k words
Sebastian crept along behind her as she explored an underground cave. He’d gone in ahead of time and set everything up to his liking, making sure that there wasn’t anyone around to disturb his plan.
She’d told him in advance where she was planning to explore and even invited him along but he’d had other plans. He wanted to play into one of his friend's biggest fantasies she’d told him about not too long ago under the influence of firewhiskey.
She had a raging mask kink, and he'd been waiting for the perfect opportunity to fulfill her fantasy. The second she’d gone far enough from the entrance he’d ensured the entrance to the cave was sealed and added a magic barrier nobody could break through so as to not be disturbed.
He’d then followed her inside while under the disillusionment spell, waiting till she got to the room he’d set up for this moment. She’d spent her time searching every nook, cranny, corner and loose stone in the cave, eventually happening into the room Sebastian had set up for this moment.
Sebastian then revealed himself to her, wearing all black pants, shirt, vest and tie and gloves. He even had a black mask covering his face so she couldn't see anything but his eyes, afraid his freckles would give him away.
His hair was slicked back, making him unrecognizable with his fluffy brown hair and freckled olive skin hidden from her view. She gasped as she turned, taking in the masked stranger.
She raised her wand, only for Sebastian’s to cast an Expelliarmus charm, effectively knocking her wand to the side. She looked from her wand to the stranger before trying to make a dash for her wand.
Sebastian was quicker, teleporting the small distance to her wand and picking it up, vanishing it before her eyes. She swallowed hard, eyes darting around the room as she tried to make a plan.
So far he had her right where he wanted her. Just scared enough, closed off where nobody would hear them and disarmed. This was all within her fantasy after all. And while she was probably internally terrified he hoped she’d be able to enjoy it at least a bit.
He quickly moved for her, grabbing her wrist, wrenching it behind her back and slamming her down onto a rocky ledge that jutted from the wall. He gave a short chuckle, the mask muffling him just enough she likely wouldn’t recognize him.
She stiffened underneath him as he pinned her other arm with the first behind her back, using magic to hold her in place. Her head tried to swing back and get a look at him and she practically growled with rage. “W-who are you?!”
Sebastian remained silent, instead letting his magic keep her pinned as he got to his knees behind her, lifting her skirt, letting his eyes rake over her freshly exposed skin.
Her expression turned panicked and her heart pounded in her chest. She blinked away hot tears of embarrassment as she could practically feel the strangers eyes rove over her body.
It was clear he’d discovered the soaking wet patch of her underwear. And while the situation truly was terrifying she was also unhealthily turned on that her wildest fantasy was playing out in real time.
She had now convinced herself that this was some wildly vivid fantasy playing out in a dream and that this couldn’t possibly be real. Nobody had been able to take her wand like that. She’d never have fallen for a trap like this.
The masked stranger behind her brought his gloved fingers up, sliding them along the seam of her cunt through her soaked knickers with a hum of satisfaction.
She wiggled, trying to get a good look at the masked man but within a second he was standing again, one gloved hand around the back of her neck. Forcing her cheek to the rock she was bent over.
She shuddered at the sound of his belt buckle being undone, shortly followed by the ripping of her underwear. A gloved finger dipped into her folds, spreading her wetness down to her clit before lightly spanking it.
She jumped, surprised at the action, and now even more turned on. The masked man pulled his fingers from her, replacing them with what she could only assume by the feeling was the blunt tip of his cock.
He kept the one hand around her neck, holding her top half down, while the other hand guided his erection into her. The sight of her absolutely soaking entrance made him feel better about taking her. She truly was excited by this and judging by her lack of struggles she wasn’t totally freaked out.
Did she know it was him or was she so into this that it didn’t matter who it was? Even when he revealed himself in the end, how would she feel about him taking advantage of her fantasy and forcing sex on her like this.
He forced his brain to turn off, suddenly overwhelmed by her slippery, soaking tightness that drew him in eagerly. Her pussy was agonizingly tight around him and if he wasn’t careful he knew this wouldn’t last long.
He carefully pushed his hips forward, inch after delicious inch pushing its way inside of her greedy pussy. Once fully seated inside her body he finally let his hand rest on her hip, stilling himself for a moment to adjust to her dizzying tightness.
She whimpered almost pathetically beneath him when he finally did pull back, her pussy gripped him tightly, hesitant to let him retreat before he slammed back in, her hips roughly meeting the stone she was bent over, the breath in her chest nearly being knocked out of her from the force.
She released a cry at the same time the man above her gave a shaky exhale. The slightly familiar scent of pine and bergamot met her nose but she was so dizzily aroused she wasn't able to place where she recognized the scent from.
Her masked stranger's hips finally found a rhythm, both intense and steady. She took it, biting into her lip as she tried to keep her moans low and controlled. She couldn’t deny that everything this stranger was doing was making her feel absolutely incredible.
She finally broke down, letting her moans fall from her lips. The stranger behind her seemed to be holding back his out sounds, only letting the accidental grunt out occasionally. Her mind was so dizzy that she couldn’t identify such a familiar groan from behind her, too lost in her own pleasure to care.
The stranger bent over her, pressing her more into the rock as he reached between her legs to stroke her clit. She cried out, knees shaking as she fought the orgasm threatening to make this whole fantasy come to an end.
She fought it, pussy spasming around the thick cock that slammed inside of her, the very same one that had her seeing stars already with how precise his thrusts were. “I-I’m gonna-!”
The man behind her gave a burst on energy, slamming into her at breakneck speed and rolling his gloved finger against her clit just right to have her clenching on him, spasming as she tumbled over the edge with a less than silent cry.
Her cry echoed inside the cave, her cunt spasming on him and dragging him over the edge with her. He quickly pulled out, letting thick spurts decorate her spread open cunt and beautiful round ass.
He sighed with satisfaction, using his hand to wring the remnants of pleasure from himself. He stood up once he’d caught his breath, admiring the beautiful fucked out mess that she was, even without his magic or hands pinning him down she remained flattened and panting against the stone.
He tucked himself away in his pants, pulling off his mask and using his other hand to break up the gel in his hair, allowing his brown curls to return to their normally wild nature.
Her eyes raked over his face in surprise as she finally stood, letting her skirt fall and cover the mess of her torn underwear and cum covered backside. “S-Sebastian?”
He gave her a sheepish look, clearing his throat and brushing the invisible dirt off himself. “Yea, it’s just me. I-I hope you don’t mind. I-I was just trying to make your masked stranger fantasy happen for you since you seemed so into it.”
To his surprise she didn’t look mad at all. Her face was a mix of relief and shock but also a hint of satisfaction. She stepped forward, taking the mask from his hands, admiring it before smiling up at him. “Thank you…really…for making this all happening…you did incredible.”
He smirked triumphantly, pulling his wand from his pocket and holding it to her. She giggled a bit as she took it. “I knew I wasn’t bested by some cronie! I should have known it was you all along!”
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy smut#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow fanfiction#sebastian sallow smut#requests
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Fic Pride Friday
Thank you to the fabulous @rmd-writes for the tag! As always, though, with 239 fanworks on AO3, this is a beast of a task lmfao.
Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.
This got long (and I'm like... actively trying not to Feel Bad™️ about that), so four fandoms' worth of snippets under the cut!
Tagging: @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise
@dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf
@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @whimsymanaged
And, of course, an open tag to whoever wants to play!
Red White & Royal Blue
What a beautiful tone aka introspective rimming:
Henry has touched Alex in a thousand different ways since he shook the hand of a beautiful boy with a yellow ipê-amarelo in his pocket and fell in love, so he doesn’t quite understand why he’s trembling as he rolls them both until Alex is on his back, hair spread out on the pillow, lips parted slightly and eyes filled with trust as Henry settles on top of him. With his arms bracketing Alex’s shoulders, Henry places a hand on Alex’s jaw and pours all the love and pride that’s been coursing through his veins since Alex delivered his speech into a deep kiss, his tongue running along Alex’s bottom lip, coaxing it further open.
The noise Alex makes in response is devastating. He’s a live wire, arching up into Henry’s touch in a way that is somehow both entirely nonsexual and an unbelievable turn on. Alex moves like he’s trying to crawl inside Henry’s skin, letting out soft moans and shivering gasps that burrow their way between Henry’s fourth and fifth ribs and carve out a place for themselves there, somewhere only Alex has ever reached.
All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, the coffee shop 5+1 where Alex is so hot it very literally makes Henry stupid:
“How can I do you today?”
Bollocksing, buggering fuck. Henry’s going to have to migrate to Tristan Da Cunha. Actually, while that’s the most remote place he knows of, he’s also fairly certain they’re a British Overseas Territory and therefore speak English, which isn’t particularly helpful in his current predicament. He’ll brainstorm, though he expects that the long and sordid history of global British colonisation is really not going to be his friend here.
Walking Wet Dream blinks slowly—once, twice—before his face splits into a wide grin.
“Tempting fucking offer, sweetheart.” A tongue peeks out to wet a pair of plump lips, which only provides Henry with some extremely vivid ideas for what else might look good between those same lips, and oh Christ, if he actually gets hard underneath this hideous apron he’ll have to lock himself in his own basement. The fact that he doesn’t have a basement is immaterial, really.
A Practical Arrangement, the arranged marriage AU -- tbh I'm proud of ALL of Alex's internal narration about Henry in chapter one but this is a particular favourite:
“I thought Windsor valued courtly manners?” Alex grins widely, tampering down a smirk at the way Henry’s ridiculously chiselled jaw twitches, obviously displeased at the way Alex is going off-script. “As your betrothed, surely you should be showering me with compliments as you greet me?”
Henry raises an eyebrow, and looks at Alex in a way that makes him suddenly, viscerally aware of the four inches of height Henry has on him. It’s a height difference that has always put Alex on edge; it never used to be the case, Alex is pretty sure from the vague memories he has of them in their younger years, but between one meeting and the next, suddenly Henry was no longer at his eye level. “As soon as I find something to compliment, I assure you I shall do so.”
Alex almost laughs; that was funny. Rude and untrue, but funny. It’s a shocking amount of personality for Henry to display. “Back in Texas, they extol my many virtues, Your Royal Highness,” he drawls, pointedly ignoring June’s scoff. “Do you need me to give you a list?”
“I’m sure they do,” Henry says gravely, but there’s a flicker of something at the corner of his mouth that could almost be a smirk. There’s a long pause before he adds: “…in Texas.”
Alex’s jaw drops before he can stop it. That absolute fucker.
Kinda think that I might be his type, the Alex and Bea fake dating fic that blew up in a way I wasn't expecting but am forever grateful for; I'm proud of this whole damn fic but this line made me get up and walk away from my computer after writing it lmao:
“Don’t worry, though.” He winks at Bea, tampering down a grin at the way she bites her lip as she realises whatever he’s about to say is at serious risk of making her laugh. “We’re not going to wait until I’m out of school to start popping out great-grandbabies for you. I wanna be papi for real, not just to my little honeypot here, if you know what I mean.”
The sharp clatter of Mary’s teacup against her saucer thankfully drowns out the choked wheezing sound from Bea’s throat; Alex only risks glancing at Bea for a moment, just enough to realise she’s fighting for her life not to burst out laughing. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up before he sounds like he’s reading lines from a terribly scripted and vaguely racist porno.
Puck It, the college hockey AU with my favourite analogy I've ever written:
Alex is aware that he might be bisexual in the same way he’s aware that he might be allergic to cats; there have been a few brief interactions to make him think it’s probably true, but so far it hasn’t had any impact on his life, so he hasn’t really had a reason to look into it and find out for sure. Now, faced with Henry’s clavicle and the sudden, vivid mental image of sinking his teeth into it, he’s not sure how theoretical it is anymore.
Handprints in wet cement, the 5+1 celebration of Henry's Oxford Slut Phase that is just so important to me:
“It’s not.” Alex’s fingers flex a little, digging into Henry’s skin. “It’s— you had all these experiences, and sometimes I can’t believe you want to share them all with me. That you’ll just tell me about them, and if it’s something we’re both into, we can just… go for it. It means a lot. You know that, right?”
Henry blinks at him. If he’s honest, he’s never really understood Alex’s eagerness to hear about Henry’s uni hookups; Henry himself, while not bothered by Alex’s own past, has never felt any particular need to seek out stories about it either. He’d just assumed it was another facet of Alex’s insatiable need to understand things; he hadn’t realised it was important.
I've carried this song in my mind, the Arthur-from-beyond-the-grave fic, have one of the many MANY passages that made me cry to write lmfao:
You don’t need to find Orion, Arthur wants to tell him. I’m in every constellation, in your heart, in your soul. I’m here. I’m always here.
But Henry can’t hear him.
Schitt's Creek
Wander Where They Will, aka the swans fic:
It felt like only a moment later that something woke him, though the pitch-black room made it obvious it had been several hours since he dozed off. It had been so long since he was in such close proximity to other people that David didn’t realise what he was hearing, at first. The gasp that rang out in the silence made his eyes snap open and his body tense up, and there was a thump and a high-pitched, muffled moan before the realisation slammed into him. He shifted in the bed, trying to block out the sounds out of a sense of… privacy, he supposed, or decorum. That must be why his stomach was clenching, so tight he could barely breathe.
Patrick, it seemed, approached lovemaking the way David has seen him approach everything else—quiet, determined, methodical. All the noises coming from their corner of the cottage seemed to be Rachel’s; only a rhythmic panting betrayed Patrick’s part in the process. Even at the end, he barely made a sound.
David couldn’t help thinking, as silence filled the cottage and pulled him backwards into sleep, that it was a terrible shame; that everyone deserved the kind of pleasure that rushed through them, untamed and uncontrollable.
Femslash February 2021, where I decided one entry needed to not only be a drabble (100 words exactly) like every other day's prompt, but ALSO a sonnet:
A princess resides in a castle fair
Who Stevie beholds when sneaking ashore—
With aquamarine eyes and golden hair,
She’s all that Stevie is so longing for.
If she had legs, or the princess a tail,
Perhaps Stevie could be part of her world—
But fate's harsh currents their union assails,
Separating them with an eddy's whirl.
So Stevie lingers, and watches, and dreams
About a union between sea and land,
Wishing it weren't as complex as it seems
For them to lie together on the sand.
But unbeknownst, a princess dreams, too—
Of a raven-haired mermaid, pure and true.
And all the rest's illusion, the fic where Patrick works through his feelings about the word queer and every single comment made me cry:
And that’s really the crux of the issue, because it’s not that he’s uncomfortable in his sexuality. If he was, that would be easier to explain — right from the start, David never put a label onto him. Patrick was the one who’d whispered I’m gay into the sliver of space between them that night at Stevie’s, and David had just given him the same easy smile and nod that Patrick’s sure he would have received if instead his declaration had been I’m bi or I’m pan or I don’t know right now. His discomfort is more of a nagging, deep-seated fear that he’s not entitled to queer; that because he’s never been called a slur or worried about whether or not it was safe to kiss his partner in public or even come out to his parents, the word isn’t his to reclaim.
I haven't met the new me yet, the fic where I just dragged everyone onto the Jake/Rachel train with me by force, no I don't care that they never met in canon:
Despite herself, her eyes keep finding her way back to one of the pool players. He’s tall and well-built, with a close-cropped beard; he carries himself easily, joking with his friend, the flannel shirt stretching across his back as he lines up his next shot. When he stands up after sinking the ball easily, he turns around too quickly for Rachel to pretend she was looking elsewhere and their eyes meet. The smile he gives her isn’t quite cocky, though it’s close; it’s just confident, and confidence has always done something for her. She smiles back before picking up her beer, draining the last of it and trying not to grin around the neck of the bottle when his eyes drop to her throat as she does.
She’d forgotten how good it can feel, to flirt with a stranger across a… okay, this isn’t exactly a crowded room, but still. Across a room. She doesn’t make any secret of watching as the guy and his friend finish up the game, the one she’s watching sinking the black easily with several of the stripes still on the table, and he hands his cue to his friend before striding over to the bar and leaning over to get the bartender’s attention.
Meet me out at the end of my rope, aka angstapalooza. The outline @ships-to-sail gave me for the end of chapter three just read "David leaves after possibly the most tender but heart wrenching kiss they’ve ever had, that’s ever been written, ever, in the history of written kissing" and then I had to... write that???
Patrick puts the box down gently before he holds his hand out. When David places the key in his palm Patrick wraps his fingers around David’s, their palms pressed together. Despite everything, it still feels like coming home; before he quite realises what he’s doing he presses Patrick back into the doorframe, his free hand wrapping around Patrick’s neck as he pours all the emotion swirling around inside him into one final kiss. Patrick, for his part, tugs David in close, his fingers winding through David’s hair as he shakes under David’s touch.
When David finally pulls away he can see Patrick’s cheeks are wet with tears, and he knows his are too. He doesn’t know if they’re his own or Patrick’s or both.
Patrick stares at him, his tone helpless. “You’re the love of my life, David Rose.”
David closes his eyes as his resolve almost breaks. When he opens them again, Patrick’s face is blurry and indistinct in front of him as he tries not to let more tears fall. “No one is ever going to love me the way you did.” The words are choked out, but when Patrick opens his mouth to reply David shakes his head to stop him. “But no one ever lied to me like you did, either.”
How much love will you happily take -- I apparently awakened a humiliation kink in multiple people with this one and I will never not be proud of that 🤣
“No, that’s not— it’s not for lack of trying.” David being so kind about this is making it ten times harder to spit the words out and he drops his gaze, picking at Stevie’s faded bedspread so he doesn’t have to see the look in David’s eyes. He can feel the all-too-familiar crackle of humiliation crawling up his spine, knows his embarrassment is clear on his face, and it makes his throat tighten and his stomach clench and his cock twitch and he hates it, loves it, wants to poke at it like a bruise until it consumes him. “It’s been, um, a size issue?”
There’s a beat, and then David is placing a gentle finger under his chin and turning Patrick to face him. His face is warm and open and Patrick likes him so much it’s kind of terrifying; he desperately needs this night not to end up another disaster.
“That,” David says, voice soft, “is only an issue if we make it an issue. And I don’t plan on making it an issue.”
Wearing glass slippers, I got my Chucks, the Stevie/Alexis tattoo/flower shop AU my beloved:
“Did people send you flowers when your aunt passed away?” Alexis asks pointedly.
“Yeah.” She doesn’t say, It was a huge pain in the ass, actually, because I had to throw them all out when they died, but from the look Alexis is giving her at least some of that must show on her face.
“Congratulations and commiserations,” she says slowly. “That’s when everyone wants to give flowers: births, deaths, weddings, anniversaries. It’s like, human nature or whatever. There’s something…” she takes a deep breath. “It’s a sign of trust, I think. To be a tiny part of someone’s biggest moments like that. Even if just from the sidelines.”
Stevie has tattooed children’s names and wedding bands, handprints and pawprints and important dates. She’s never thought about it quite like that before. “I get that,” she murmurs.
Great Acoustics, aka the cast did a Zoom thing in-character during Covid and had a throwaway line to justify David and Patrick not being in the same room and I just entered a fugue state and wrote porn about it in like an hour:
They make it ten days before their first noise complaint, which is frankly about nine days longer than David expected. They’ve been worse than usual, to be fair, with something as simple as a lockable door apparently now an aphrodisiac to both of them. Patrick goes about twelve shades of red when the official notice is pushed under their door, and then the pillow makes a reappearance.
It’s all very fucking hot, actually, seeing buttoned-up, in-control Patrick reduced to a whimpering, begging, uncontrollable mess. Eventually, David manages to convince him that if something must go in his mouth during sex, there are several better options.
No, not that. Well, obviously, sometimes that.
A focused moment made, kinkverse part one that I very much intended to be a oneshot lmfao RIP
For a few moments, the only sound is their combined harsh breathing as they recover. Almost before David realises what’s happening he’s being pulled gently to his feet, and then Patrick is framing David’s face in his hands and kissing him soundly. And David’s been kissed a lot during a scene, and a few times before one, but never once has someone kissed him in a sex club after they’ve already come. He lets out a startled but not unhappy yelp and Patrick takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue into David’s now-open mouth, chasing the taste of himself, making them both groan. Finally Patrick releases him with one last, almost chaste, kiss. He drops one hand but leaves the other on David’s cheek, gazing carefully at him, his face soft and open.
“I’ve never done that before, with a guy,” Patrick confesses after a moment of silence.
David raises an eyebrow, quirks a lip. “The flogging or the blowjob?”
“Uh,” Patrick scratches the back of his head as he flushes slightly. “Both? But also, um.” His eyes flicker down to David’s lips and back up, and David gives a soft little Oh of understanding.
“Baby dom and baby gay, huh?”
Your heart is keeping time with me, the 50 First Dates AU that I think has the best ending I've ever written? So, uh, spoilers-ish, I guess:
This isn’t a romantic comedy. There will be no miraculous, medically impossible recovery. Every morning for the rest of his life, David will wake up and have to be told that he has a husband he doesn’t recognise; a husband who loves him.
But after he’s been told, Patrick will set out to prove it to him, with laughter and music and patient understanding. And because love is so much more than conscious memory, David will go to sleep each night in Patrick’s arms, safe and secure and content.
Even though it’s not a film or a fairytale, they will still live happily ever after.
Other
We always walked a very thin line, aka the fic I furiously spite-wrote in three hours after watching Happiest Season lmfao:
When they were little, they were convinced if they practised enough they could develop some sort of psychic link; talk to each other over long distances without tying up the phone lines their dads always used for important business calls. They gave up eventually, but Riley finds herself desperately wishing for the talent now.
Come on, Harper. Be braver for her than you were for me.
“She’s lying!” The words burst hysterically out of Harper’s mouth, and Riley’s heart sinks.
We knew we were the fortunate ones, because obviously I watched episode 3 of The Last Of Us and immediately started writing, what do you take me for?
He knows that the last four years have been kinder to him than to almost anyone else; he also knows that he doesn’t look like those men in the magazines, the ones he used to drive thirty miles out of his way to buy, shoulders hunched and not making eye contact with the store clerk in case he found himself subjected to judgement — or worse, conversation.
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disco elysium hdb/kk fic rec list! by boop
this list is picked by me so this might lean more on the mushy-lovey side since i love simple soft moments in fics (not all of them though. there will be some with heavy plot and topics). hope you enjoy them regardless! also, please check out these authors they are wicked talented people ><
1. New Routines by pluckedstrings | Mature | one-shot | 4.4k | Summary: Harry offers to cook dinner after a hard case. He ponders his new routines after moving in with Kim. (A hopeful look into recovery and change)
2. The Melt by forgetcanon | Gen | one-shot | 1.3k | Summary: Kim tries to take a day off but his mind comes back to Harry. An offer of ice cream at the fair. (Short and sweet)
3. A Foothold by pilotfive | Explicit (see tags) | one-shot | 13.3k | Summary: Kim stumbles his way through the tangled mess of feelings he has towards Harry. A tough case shifts everything. Both of them try to make sense of it all. (Lovingly written and tons of Kim character study)
4. Tenth of a Second by SupposedToBeWriting | Mature | 4 chapters (completed) | 12.2k | Summary: What if Kim took the bullet during the tribunal? Harry does everything to save his partner. (Kim Whump but make it very emotional)
5. Nothing to Lose but Our Chains by Lepak | Mature (see tags for heavy subject warnings) | 14 chapters (completed) | 60.9k | Summary: A gruelling case pushes Harry and Kim to their limits. They hold on to each other through it all. (Case fic with heavy plot, world-building and deep topics. Beautifully written, thrilling and emotional. It's 'the' fic)
6. When He Walks, I am Loved, I am Loved by wizardlover | Teen and Up | one-shot | 5k | Summary: Kim struggles with exhaustion after the transfer to the 41st. Harry helps to take care of him. Kim lets himself be vulnerable. (Kim Whump but make it intimate)
7. Mnemotechnique A6 by nevermindgrantaire | Teen and Up | 6 chapters (incomplete) | 48k | Summary: A new case leads Harry and Kim back to Martinaese. Kim works out his feelings through his notebook and Harry tries to ease his chronic pain. (Absolutely gorgeous writing, vivid and heartfelt. An abundance of silent pining on both ends)
8. TipTop Dreams by nmqttps | Teen and Up | one-shot | 3.2k | Summary: Harry indulges a fantasy with a reluctant Kim. TipTop tournée tickets, metaphorical broken ribs and banter. (Funny, sweet and surprisingly emotional at the end)
9. Quid Amo, Vasto by blacksatinpointeshoes | Mature | can be seen as non-pairing | one-shot | 3k | Summary: Electrochemistry gets louder and louder. Harry gets pushed to the brink. Kim helps his partner. (A character study in Electrochemistry)
10. Life Gets Hard, But We Go On by Laura Kaye | Explicit (see tags) | 17 chapters (incomplete) | 118k | Summary: After The Hanged Man case, Kim transfers to the 41st and Harry deals with recovery. They yearn for something closer. (A hopeful slow burn fic with such beautiful writing. Plenty of pining, character study and a look into Harry's effort in recovery)
that's all of them! i might update more of this should i come across fics i love. anyways, happy reading <3
#disco elysium#fic rec list by boop#kimharry#harrykim#kim kitsuragi#harry du bois#boop and fics#boop rambles
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I just Wish.
[Now Normally I don't write fan fiction because I struggle with Writing but I did this as a practice so I can get better :D]
[Ps: This ain't happy fan fiction Sob]
The rain fell making a soft pitter patter as it hit the roof of the Villa. Kerry was fast asleep and all cuddled up to his pillow, sleeping in just his underwear as he always did. Meanwhile Vincent was outside sitting down in one of the sun loungers that were near Kerry’s lake-like pool. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a cigarette between the fingers of his other hand. It may have been raining but V didn’t care, he just… needed some time to think. It felt like just yesterday everything happened… felt like just yesterday him and Jackie were having fun doing gigs, making fun of each other, and fucking around just being gonks together. That just yesterday he had gone out and done the horrid heist at Konpeki Plaza with Jackie and T-bug.. and had lost both of them. And that just yesterday Dexter Deshawn had put a bullet into his head, and he woke up with a terrorist named Johnny fucking Silverhand Yelling at him for a smoke. Truthfully that had only been a few months ago, but it all was still so vivid. The memories kept replaying in V’s head, and every time they did he felt more and more guilty. Didn’t help that he was also dying, getting worse by the day. Finding a way to save both him and Johnny seemed impossible at this point, but he wasn’t going to just give up, not just yet.
V sat up for a moment, setting the bottle of whiskey down as he took off his jacket. “Johnny?” he called out, waiting for a response. Of course the one time he wanted to talk to Johnny he was busy doing who knows what. V sighed, as he leaned back again. He had been feeling a bit down lately, and he couldn’t figure out why.. yeah he knew one of the reasons was because he was dying, but he just didn’t understand what else was making him so down. I mean he had everything he could dream of currently, a pretty and kind lover, a body that he felt comfortable in, fuck he had even been staying in a nice home with the man of his dreams. “Damn it Vincent… everything has been going pretty great, you’ve even got some leads on how to bring back Johnny, stop being such a depressed gonk,” V muttered to himself. He took a long drag of his cigarette, now pressing the cigarette against his arm to put it out. Then he grabbed the bottle of whiskey leaning back in the lounger, taking a sip of the drink… before just closing his eyes. The rain kept falling from the sky, and at this point V was soaking wet, but he didn’t care, he loved the rain. He took this time to just think about everything, and why he had been so down lately.
A few hours passed, which had only seemed like a few minutes to V.. but he had slowly started realizing why he had been feeling the way he had been. Just 2 months ago Kerry had all the time in the world to hang out with him but ever since Kerry had started making music with the Us Cracks and working on his new album they had started hanging out less. “Oh I can’t be upset with that, he’s happy, and that’s all that matters,” he spoke to himself, now softly sighing, before thinking about it more.
I keep waking up to nothing. I used to wake up with Kerry right next to me, all snuggled up, but now I wake up in the morning and he’s already up, already doing something else. He’s often busy now as well, we rarely talk. Lately, I’ve only seen him in the morning playing guitar on the couch or at dinner. Working towards finding a cure has also made it hard to see or talk to him but I’ve been trying to make time. But it seems every time I am able to get some time off to just hang out with him, he’s busy. I just want things to work out in the end… but I don’t even know if Kerry has noticed that I’ve been getting worse. I can barely eat, feel sick every time I try to, and I’m getting weaker by the day. I’ve been having more frequent seizures, and barely can recover from them…
Vincent had got so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize that he had started crying, or that Johnny had appeared next to him.
“Ay, kiddo I promise you things are going to work out, even if I have to get wiped,” Johnny stated as he looked down at V.
“I’m not letting that fucking happen Johnny, and you know that, and you know how bad things have been getting…,” he now looked up at Johnny, “I just need you to promise me something okay fuckface?”
“Alright kiddo, have no idea what you need me to promise you, but I promise,” Johnny laughed softly, sitting down on the side of the lounge chair.
“If I don’t wake up one morning and you wake up in my body… I want you to take care of Kerry for me, help him get over my death..” V looked off to the side before looking back at Johnny, “Just be there for him, make him happy… got it..?” He now closed his eyes again, yawning.
Johnny sat in silence for a moment before speaking, “Alright, got it.” Johnny said softly, running his hand through V’s hair.
“I just wish we both could live, that’s all I want Johnny, for us to live and both be happy,” V stated softly, before drifting off to sleep.
#cyberpunk 2077#trevorite#male v#kerry eurodyne#cyberpunk vincent#cyberpunk#cyberpunk 2077 fanfic#cyberpunk fanfic#kerry eurodyne x v#male v x kerry#cyberpunk kerry#johnny silverhand#fanfic#sad fanfiction
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how hard would it be to make a tulpa who has a job to keep track of our dreams? weve been meaning to start recording them to remember them better and learn how to lucid dream, but we usually forget to write about them first thing in the morning and then 90% of the dream disappears from our memory...
so like, idk, a dream holder tulpa? who will always front for when the body wakes up and remembers to write about what we dreamt while its fresh? i know tulpas can diverge from whats planned for them and that's fine ofc but how possible is it to make a headmate who can handle all that or at least help with it?
I mean, you might be able to pull this off after some time and a lot of effort.
But as for how hard it is... I'm going to say it's significantly harder than just... putting sticky notes around your room (wherever you would first look when you first wake up,) with "write down your dreams!" written on them
I think in this case, there are just much quicker and more reliable methods to get what you want without making a whole other person in you your head.
Of course, if you just really want to do some brain shenanigans, you can try an imposed sticky note.
Essentially, as you go to bed each night and wake each morning, get in the habit of imagining a giant sign above your bed in vivid detail, or maybe spraypainted on the ceiling with glowing paint, telling you to write your dreams down. In theory, as you build this habit, it will become second nature to impose it. And this mental sticky note should serve as your reminder as long as you keep practicing, while also building your visualization skills further.
#dreams#lucid dreams#pluralgang#tulpamancy#tulpa#pro tulpa#plural#plurality#endogenic#multiplicity#systems#system#pro endo#pro endogenic#system stuff#sysblr
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Shadowgast Recs: Featuring Astrid or Eadwulf
This week we have nine recs for fics that feature Astrid and/or Eadwulf behind the cut! Don't forget to comment or kudos on the stories!
Hard Mouth by road_rhythm (216254,Explicit)
Warnings: Generally dark, torture, author chose not to warn.
While the Nein are in Aeor, Trent uses the dream spell to invade Caleb's mind. Things get worse from there.
Reccer says: The writing is extremely vivid and the story engrossing, but I also adore this version of Astrid
More Things than Heaven and Earth by kaeda (76998,Mature)
Warnings: None
Caleb and Essek find themselves transported to what appears to be the plot of Tusk Love.
Reccer says: The fic starts off as a romp but consistently chooses to allow all of the characters a surprising amount of depth. Features a great Astrid and Eadwulf
Neighborhood Watch by timbrene (2800,Teen)
Warnings: None!
Astrid notices a disguised Essek has set up residence at Caleb's home and sets out to investigate what he could be plotting.
Reccer says: Astrid and Eadwulf are both perfect in this, especially Astrid; her certainty that "Bren" is getting manipulated by this Dynasty elf who's definitely a threat to national security is such a funny messed-up Volstrecker twist on being concerned for your friend. It's heartwarming and will put a smile on your face.
look forward lest the past catch up by iniquiticity (11328,Explicit)
Warnings: None
Astrid saves Essek from an assassination attempt, leaving him with a newfound appreciation for his own life.
Reccer says: There's just something about a near death experience that makes you want to go desperately make out with your sort of boyfriend, and this fic really captured that.
do you have enough love in your heart, to go and get your hands dirty? by SaltCore (4355,Mature)
Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence (offensive dunamancy), mentions of torture
Getting Bren out of a tight spot forced you into uncomfortable company, Astrid. As his friend heals him, take a little time to think about one member of the Mighty Nein, the one who helped, the one you trust the least.
Reccer says: This is a beautiful example of the "Astrid and Essek hissing at each other like angry cats because they're both concerned about Caleb" genre. The prose is gorgeous and very vivid, Astrid's POV is cutting and feels so much like her. All the characters are perfect. Highly recommend it.
you are what we could've been by vagabondfirelilly (2744,General)
Warnings: None
Caleb lets it slip that he is married to Essek, while in the presence of his former lovers.
Reccer says: Very bittersweet, it's lovely to think about Caleb and Essek being married, but between the fic being written from Eadwulf's perspective, and the reaction this revelation illicits from Astrid, there's a real sense of pain and loss from what could've been.
The Annual Rexxentrum Cat Show by hanap (776,Teen)
Warnings: None
Four wizards engage in many shenanigans to try winning the prestigious Annual Rexxentrum Cat Show.
Reccer says: It's fun! All four of this group really show off their wizardly competitive spirit in this fic, and it's a delight to read.
Cultivate a space for the things that hurt you most by PryingBlackbird (102212,Mature)
Warnings: Main-character death (gets resurrected), Trent Ikithon, Blumenkids backstory
Astrid, Caleb, Eadwulf and Essek are complicated people who each battle their own demons. Their pahths keep crossing during this alternate retelling of late C2.
Reccer says: It creates a narrative of late C2 that features Astrid and Wulf more heavily and also has some nice Shadowgast slowburn. Also so much angst. The ending is a good one and a bit different from the campaign.
I'd hate to put us up against yesterday by joldiego (1485,Teen)
Warnings: Feeblemind
Caleb and Essek show up at Astrid's place badly hurt; Essek under feeblemind
Reccer says: It's a very promising start, and I love the Astrid point of view
Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast.Have any questions about what this is?
Check out the FAQ! Next week’s theme is Wild Magic!
#Critical Role#Shadowgast#essek thelyss#Caleb Widogast#astrid beck#Eadwulf Grieve#CR fic#Critical Role Fic#Fanfic Recs#CR Fic recs
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Gary Oldman Masterlist
Oh hey guys, this man has done so many characters. Granted, I may not write about all of them, but these guys, I will. He's such an amazing actor, with a wide range of characters, many of them hot as fuck. Here are some that I've written for. And listen, I won't be mad if you drop a comment or reblog, honestly! In fact, it would make my day!
Drexyl Spivey
I Know I'm Pretty You and your roommate find a new weed dealer, and as it turns out, he's hot as fuck. NSFW
We Got Everything Here Your roommate, Alex, goes out on a date, which leaves you and Drexyl with the apartment to yourselves NSFW
While We're Waiting Your roommate tells you that she wants to watch Drexyl finger you, and it awakens a new kink. NSFW
His Cake and His Present Drexyl only wants one thing for his birthday — you. You decide to make it a birthday he'll never forget NSFW
Jim Gordon
Detective!Reader (in chronological order)
What Dreams Are Made Of When GCPD gets a new transfer, Jim worries she could be another corrupt cop that he'll need to worry about.
The Dark Morning On a rainy December morning, you cannot find the strength to get up for work. Jim can get up, but it's not exactly for work. NSFW
The Dark Day You and Jim get distracted while making a late breakfast NSWF
The Dark Night You and Jim work from home on a case that's been plaguing him for years, have a spirited debate on what constitutes a Christmas movie, and snuggle up on the couch with some take out
Sleep Just To Dream Sometimes your dreams were so vivid that they would affect your mood even after you were awake. After you dream of catching Jim in a compromised situation, you have a hard time letting go of the jealousy that follows.
Santa's Helper Christmas Eve at GCPD
Two Sides, Same Coin When your former partner shows up in Gotham City asking for help on a case, Jim gets a bit jealous after learning more about your history.
The Spice Rises After a long week, you and Jim decide to blow off some steam by trying some new games. NSFW
At His Mercy You and Jim play a new game (part two to The Spice Rises NSFW
Perfect You should've known that Valentine's Day with Jim would be perfect, even when you hated Valentine's Day.
Sirius Black
One Shots
Ever So Sweet Sirius is sorted into Gryffindor, much to his mother's chagrin
Drabbles
Drinking Games Drabble
Whispers and Wishes Drabble
Long Fics
You've Got An Owl It's been ten years since the Second Wizarding War, and just over a year since Sirius Black was mysteriously thrown out of the veil. Both Sirius and Hermione signed up for a Quill Companion Service and were matched, unbeknownst to each other. Through their letters, they find healing and fall in love, while in person they cannot stand each other. COMPLETE
Requests
NSFW prompts #50 "I want it. I want to taste you."
Dr Zachary Smith
NSFW prompts #52 "Won't you help me? Please?"
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Hello, I just wanted to write that I re-read the last chapter again (I can’t stop) Your fanfic is what kept my mental health going (it was a really hard year) over the past year and I’m grateful for that 🥰But I was so immersed in this story, on at the moment this is the only ff that I read on this fandom, and it should already be so (for more than a year now, it’s incredible)😊I like that the characters are so alive, the feelings are so vivid, and they are so intertwined with depth and important themes and also with sex (Vegas's pov still haunts me, I'm really looking forward to reading some kind of sexual experience from his point of view, because he's just so bad for it, AND VERY HOT), but we know that he hides his real emotions 👀I’m looking forward to how events will develop further, you are so talented 💘It’s so incredible that you can write such a beautiful, emotional story for FREE that will find such a response in many, I’ve been here for a year now and I’ll wait as long as you want to enjoy this work and read how these two live their happy twisted life (and this is just my wish...in my head it’s a canon that they killed Korn, ehhh dreams)😈At the end I want to wish you health and send hugs 🫂 And if possible, can I have a little spoiler about “Vegas will do something stupid, and Pete will do something even worse” I’m so interested 😭😭😭 But if not, then I’m okay with it and ready to wait further 💜 P.S. I’m not a native English speaker, I hope everyone is here It's clear
oh hello there!!! oh my gosh that honestly means so much to hear that and im so happy it could offer something meaningful during the past year though i do hope this year treats you better!!
ahhhhhhh thank you so much!!! im so glad you think i brought it to life that way!! oh wow yes his pov is very much diving under the surface of what Pete has been interpreting this entire time. wow yes and if there is a sex scene in his pov you can bet its going to be deeply obsessed and unsettling whilst we hear how he experiences that from his pov and how it all makes him feel. like dude high key wants to climb inside petes body and live there permanently there will be no normal internal thoughts whilst theyre having sex haha.
youre so right he does hide way too much!!! and were going to be seeing a lot of that the more we have his POV. ah thank you thank you!! its honestly been so amazing that its resonated with people this much and the experience has been so rewarding!! ah thank you youre too sweet!
omg yeah they should murder korn what an idea. thank you!!! sending you good health and hugs too!!!
oh sure!! well basically its going to revolve around pete finally deciding that he wants to bottom but when he tries to bring that up in his usual halting, beating around the bush kind of way vegas just ends up putting his mouth in it. but like in the most extreme, worst way possible. badly enough that pete makes his own petty, spiteful plan instead and decides to go elsewhere, knowing that it will set vegas off in the worst way but hes angry enough to try and rub that in vegas' face.
except- well it backfires and then the both of them are really into it and they both end up getting exactly what they wanted in the end anyway.
hope thats enough of a spoiler hint!
your english is great!!! and its very clear and easy to understand!! honestly so impressed with people who know more than one language and who talk to people in that other language!! like ur brain???? its so powerful!!!
hope you have a nice night!!
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Hii, you were one of the first blogs I followed when I was new in Tumblr and it's been years already. I've been in and out of the aot fandom, but I recall how obssesed I was with Porco and Reiner in your writtings. And when I read your chapter one of the new story, it got me into it again. Shipping warriors with paradisian characters is my pleasure, specially scouts, and I love the whole possibilities with the paths and inherited memories, so I fell in love with it.
I saw your requests for hcs are open so, if you can, could you do about warriors x scout reader hcs? How it would be and all? (yes, the Porco story inspired me)
Thank you for being here!
And gladly - it's something I often think about / write about. It would be such a beautifully cruel love but then again, the world is cruel, right?
Including some lore planned for my fic.
If the lore I have implemented in wasn't there and you were just a normal person then everything would still play out pretty much the way it does in the Manga. Everyone is far too well disciplined for anything else. It'll make sense when you read it lol
Warrior X You (A member of the Survey Corps)
Porco - Annie
For Reiner & Bertoldt I've kinda already done you can read them here. It wouldn't really be much different than what I have already written.
Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Smut. GN Reader.
Everything going on with the curse of Ymir is literally due to the cycle of hatred and breaking that awful pattern. And so the love between a Warrior and someone from the Isle of the devils is something so pure and must be treasured.
Ymir herself probably set this up or helped via paths and memories. The memories aren't meant to teach further hate, but to understand and grow - something no one has achieved thus far.
Until you come along that is.
Porco
As written in my fic, Porco would first see you through the eyes of Ymir and her memories, as he tries to comb through to see his brother's.
He only catches glimpses of you at first but you took his breath away. He'd never thought he'd ever lay eyes on someone so perfect.
Tries to differentiate between his own reactions and if this is how Ymir felt. But no, Ymir was with that Historia person.
100% convinced you're a witch / warlock.
Because of course, the only thing to make him tremble, blush and his heart race is witchcraft. Porco isn't one for menial things like romance. Sure, he loves the attention he gets for being a warrior but he doesn't really have time to hunt kitty. If he wasn't so dedicated it'd be a different story, Porco obviously is ego driven a lot of the time.
In my fics it's because you were placed there specifically from a different universe (ours) to have a fresh set of eyes, heart and the chance to break the cycle. You can't be turned into a titan because you're not Eldian, you're from here. (You're not aware of this though, at least not yet) yet you have access to paths but only when Ymir sees fit.
So when you're both asleep, sometimes you'll both have extremely vivid dreams about talking to each other. Full on conversations. And they go on for a while. Like 3 years on and off.
When you figure out you're both real and from different continets, well that's up to you whether or not to try and get information from him. He won't ever give away secrets and will probably begin to resent you for trying when he fell for you so hard. So I wouldn't recommend it. Push everything away. This time in paths is sacred. The war can wait.
It'll even go so far as to making love within paths, and waking up with the love mark on your neck and him with nail marks in his back just confirms further this is real.
Porco removes his shirt after a heavy training exercise;
Peick: 😳😳😳
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Do... do you have a girlfriend? /boyfriend?"
"W-what?! N-no, don't be dumb."
Zeke: "Then what are those love scratches doing down your back? Someone's been a bad boy to a good little pussy cat."
Porco will go beetroot red denying it and instantly healing them now he was aware they were there.
Adhere by the law of ymir and when you meet, well, its up to you what happens. But the path of true love and peace is right there to take.
Annie
The paths route will be a little harder to take with other shifters at first, because they don't have any memories linking you together. And well, you're physically together so it's not really needed. (Except Pieck & Zeke)
In the Anime/Manga, Annie certainly has a soft spot for Armin, evidently. She's probably the closest one to undoing the cycle if you weren't there.
When you're there it's different. It's like you're magnetically drawn to titan shifters, and them to you, because of your gift from Ymir. Explains why you get along with them better than most during training.
Annie, like the others are pretty far down the conditioning hole and it'll take quote a bit for her to even consider a romance with the enemy.
But again, there's just something special about you. Your aura screams magnetism and there's just something so mystical about you.
You radiate kindness and understanding - it may be hard because well you don't know anything else. But your empathy and understanding is what helps your case with Ymir on judgment day.
But when they fall for you, they fall hard. It really is just up to you what decisions you'll make with their heart in your palm. But remember - Ymir is watching.
#snk#annie snk#attack on titan#snk fandom#porco snk#snk annie#snk reiner#snk x y/n#snk x oc#snk x you#snk x reader#annie leonhart#porco galliard
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Review of Rez Ball by Byron Graves
Heartdrum
Publisher’s Summary: These days, Tre Brun is happiest when he is playing basketball on the Red Lake Reservation high school team—even though he can’t help but be constantly gut-punched with memories of his big brother, Jaxon, who died in an accident.
When Jaxon’s former teammates on the varsity team offer to take Tre under their wing, he sees this as his shot to represent his Ojibwe rez all the way to their first state championship. This is the first step toward his dream of playing in the NBA, no matter how much the odds are stacked against him.
But stepping into his brother’s shoes as a star player means that Tre can’t mess up. Not on the court, not at school, and not with his new friend, gamer Khiana, who he is definitely not falling in love with.
After decades of rez teams almost making it, Tre needs to take his team to state. Because if he can live up to Jaxon’s dreams, their story isn’t over yet.
My Thoughts: Forgive me for a second, but I need to gush. I don’t often gush, but I really did love this book and Tre’s story. From the very beginning Byron Graves had me on the edge of my seat. We are dropped right into the final moments of a regional playoff game that means a lot to Tre, his family, and his community. The loss they’ve had makes them want the victory even more than usual. Byron expertly weaves that tension throughout Tre’s year to come and made it so putting down the book was almost impossible.
The structure of the story is that Tre is trying to make the varsity team with the ultimate goal being an NBA spot and one of his friends is making a documentary along the way. It was a clever bit of storytelling because Tre does several interviews for this film and we get to hear his answers to questions that might not be asked in typical daily conversations. The documentary frames the story well.
Aside from the way the story is structured, the setting and community is incredibly vivid. The rez, the high school, and the basketball courts are painted clearly and it feels like I stepped through into this space and time to see and hear the “beautiful chaos” of the game and can appreciate the relationships of everyone involved. This book is going to speak loudly and clearly to those folks who’ve played and/or watched rez ball.
Though Byron Graves was definitely writing to and for Native readers, this story can also speak to others because there are universal themes of pain, loss, community, love, survival, and people striving to thrive. There are difficult situations and many moments of intense pressure on and off the court. I appreciated that there are wins and losses and it’s hard to guess which one is coming. Above all, it all felt real. Life isn’t often as tidy as a Disney or Hallmark movie. Tre is making some excellent choices like his summer training plan and he’s also managing to make some poor choices that create dumpster fires.
He’s surrounded by friends, including one he’d like to have as more than a friend, and family who help him navigate life and bring love, laughter, and sometimes hard truths. HIs parents are still grieving the death of his older brother so it’s a struggle for all concerned, but they are steady. They don’t always see through to his pain, but they give him space and support when they do see past his armor.
Recommendation: Get this as soon as you can. Pre-order. Recommend it to your local library. Do all the things that will get it into your hands and into lots of other hands too. It’s a page turner with a lot of excitement and heart. I will be recommending this one to pretty much anyone. I watched basketball frequently with my father when I was a child, but am not interested enough to watch it on my own as an adult. Nevertheless, I cared about every single game in these pages. Graves pulled me in there and had me in the stands jumping and cheering with the Red Lake Warriors fans.
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can I have Germany, Denmark, Finland, and a character of your choice with a darling that's very warm.
Canada ( I wanted to write America. But I wanted to give sweet maple boy more time on this blog)
A sweet darling like you is exactly what he needs.
You make his life like a vivid spellbinding daydream. He loves having you around for lazy days that only involve a roaring fireplace, hot chocolate, blankest, and the hottest novels that are trending on #booktok.
His favorite activity involves going out to an early morning breakfast in a cozy bear-themed diner. You two watch the run rise lazily between the cotton candy cloud in the sky. The mellow diner atmosphere in the early morning sun brought with it rare magic. It’s a memory that he saves in his mind and uses as motivation to get through tough days.
Matthew’s cheeks and ears were crimson. He was going to do it he was going to be brave! He maneuvered his fingers across so that he could reach your hands. He gathers enough courage to last as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.
“Je t’aime Y/N Je t’aime.” (That accent got you down bad)
You’re mesmerized by his glistening violet eyes. You’re enraptured by the moment & didn’t hesitate to reciproacte having mutual feelings.
Denmark
He was pleasantly stunned that there is a woman that likes him and can keep up with him. His antics can last for long spans of time.
Your vigor and determination to keep up with him made him want to be around you more.
He was glad that from the moment he met you that you were genuine and kind.
“Hey, Den! I’m bringing back breakfast for you. You look exhausted from the soccer game you had with the other Nordic yesterday. Be right back Den-y Boy.” You give him a smile that's as warm as a soft summer sunbeams kissing his pale side.
He adores you and enjoys having fun with you whether it's sword battles, playing video games, & hiking it’s all like a fun dream for him that he hopes is real.
Finland
Two sweethearts together is a perfect mix for both of you. Your romance will be like high-school sweethearts that do abide by the promise: “Till death do us part.”
The two of you truly enjoy every moment of being together. You’re always holding hands, trying out new bars, or finding scenic (and Instagramable) places to go and have a picnic.
When he packs you lunch for work he creates cute faces and such, along with sweet pun notes to help you get through a rough work day.
“I love you a LATTE Y/N.” have a great day . -Tino
The epitome of a sweet romance.
Germany
The man of muscle, hard work, and logic. Your sweet demeanor throws him for a loop and it wasn’t a fake type of sweetness that he was used to from other nations when they need him to do something for them or get them out of financial trouble. You were gentle and kind even though he could be overbearing and yell all the time. Your patience never wavered. You were fond of the German.
He likes to go in long walks with you with his two German Shepards and his grumpy cat.
He enjoys baking with you. It gives him a chance to show off his soft side that he seldom shows to anyone. It’s more than just his bulky muscles that interest you…but his soft heart with a stone face.
“You’re not as scary as they say.” You lightly press your warm palm against his pale skin and wipe some of the flour off the side of his lips and you bring him in for a deep kiss.
#hetalia fluff#headingalaxys sweet#hetalia fandom#hetalia fanfiction#hetalia x reader#hetalia#headingalaxys writes stuff#aph canada#aph denmark#aph finland#aph germany#aph axis#hws canada#hws germany#hetalia imagines#Hetalia fanfic writers
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