Harry Potter Fic: Something Worse Than Fear (Ginny/Tom Riddle)
TITLE: Something Worse Than Fear
AUTHOR: agirlnamedtruth
FANDOM: Harry Potter
PAIRING/CHARACTER/GENERAL SERIES: Ginny/Tom Riddle
GENRE: Het
TABLE: A ( can be found here)
PROMPT: 048. Nightmare.
RATING: R
SUMMARY: Ginny's nightmares about what happened with her and Tom Riddle have recently taken a differnent turn.
WARNINGS: It's sexual but no actual sex. This is set at least 5 years after the events of CoS.
NOTES: For my table at lover100
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time.
She’d always had nightmares; the other girls told her so. They told her about her tossing and turning, crying out in her sleep, even screaming sometimes. But they understood, after what she’d been through. Not that they knew the full story but they knew she had some pretty good fuel for bad dreams.
When she’d been younger, they really had been nightmares. But now she was older, they weren’t so much terrifying as unsettling. Now she cried out for different reasons. The way she rationalised it was that it was her way of coping. She was taking something terrifying and finding a way to make it less so. Turning it into something she could control.
So now when he’d chase her through darkness, trying to get inside her mind, she’d turn on him and grab him by his hair. It was her nightmare, she could do what she wanted, things she’d never do while awake. She‘d pull his head back and bite at his neck, not leaving marks because he wasn’t real. She’d push him to the floor and straddle him, dirty wet stone scraping her bare knees. She’d rip at his old fashioned robes and claw at his skin, feeling like something primal was vicariously living through her. Maybe it was that little piece of him that would always live inside her, yearning to make her do bad things to set him free. She’d grind against him, never letting him inside her, not properly, until pleasure ripped through her body so violently that it woke her from her nightmare. She told herself that the sweat on her skin and her ragged breath was out of fear and not out of something much more frightening.
AUTHOR: agirlnamedtruth
FANDOM: Harry Potter
PAIRING/CHARACTER/GENERAL SERIES: Ginny/Tom Riddle
GENRE: Het
TABLE: A ( can be found here)
PROMPT: 048. Nightmare.
RATING: R
SUMMARY: Ginny's nightmares about what happened with her and Tom Riddle have recently taken a differnent turn.
WARNINGS: It's sexual but no actual sex. This is set at least 5 years after the events of CoS.
NOTES: For my table at lover100
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time.
She’d always had nightmares; the other girls told her so. They told her about her tossing and turning, crying out in her sleep, even screaming sometimes. But they understood, after what she’d been through. Not that they knew the full story but they knew she had some pretty good fuel for bad dreams.
When she’d been younger, they really had been nightmares. But now she was older, they weren’t so much terrifying as unsettling. Now she cried out for different reasons. The way she rationalised it was that it was her way of coping. She was taking something terrifying and finding a way to make it less so. Turning it into something she could control.
So now when he’d chase her through darkness, trying to get inside her mind, she’d turn on him and grab him by his hair. It was her nightmare, she could do what she wanted, things she’d never do while awake. She‘d pull his head back and bite at his neck, not leaving marks because he wasn’t real. She’d push him to the floor and straddle him, dirty wet stone scraping her bare knees. She’d rip at his old fashioned robes and claw at his skin, feeling like something primal was vicariously living through her. Maybe it was that little piece of him that would always live inside her, yearning to make her do bad things to set him free. She’d grind against him, never letting him inside her, not properly, until pleasure ripped through her body so violently that it woke her from her nightmare. She told herself that the sweat on her skin and her ragged breath was out of fear and not out of something much more frightening.