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Summary
Tom Riddle knew she was his Omega and did nothing about it - Hermione is going to make him regret that.
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do it right (keep me up all night) by weestarmeggie for raven_maiden
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
05 Jun 2020
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Hermione's eight months pregnant and Draco's going to be home late.
Written in celebration of Draco's fortieth birthday, though no actual birthdays occur.
Series
- Part 2 of Pretty Please
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When Hermione is captured by Death Eaters, she expects to be tortured for information and then killed. As it turns out, Voldemort believes that the best punishment for the Golden Trio is Hermione's pleasure.
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WARNING: This fic is full of EXPLICIT, shameless, filthy sex of all kinds. Requests are welcome, but I reserve the right to refuse.
--It was daggers through her skull. Her skin was on fire. Her eyes rolled back. Darkness threatened to overtake her, and she welcomed it, but he wasn’t through. No, he was searching for something else. Something quieter. Something buried in the depths of her mind. The first time she’d explored herself, the first time she'd shattered and come undone at her own touch.
Fantasies, imagined in moments of weakness as her body hurled toward climax, were being scrutinized. Memorized. Dark, shameful thoughts that had left her feeling embarrassed and filthy, but somehow fulfilled and alive. It was torture, but she would not beg. She would not humiliate herself by pleading with him to let her go, to stop...
“No, I don't believe you will,” Voldemort chuckled. “In fact, I don’t think you’ll beg for us to stop at all.”
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They meet on the playground. Ron told her that if she doesn’t fight for herself no one will ever leave her alone so she’s just trying to follow his advice. “Are you crying?” He asks. She musters all the fury in her 7-year-old body and channels it into her voice when she speaks through the tears. “So what? I’ll still kick your arse.”
Crossposted from ffnet. Tomione, Muggle AU.
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sender: [email protected]
recipient: [email protected]
subject: Today’s MeetingGranger –
Attached is the dry-cleaning bill for the shirt you ruined when you threw your tea at it. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I happened to be wearing the shirt at the time. You are lucky it was cold. Pay the bill and I won’t sue you for assault.
Regards,
Thomas Marvolo Riddle
CEO of Walpurgis Corporatesender: [email protected]
recipient: [email protected]
subject: re: Today’s MeetingRiddle –
I did notice, because unlike you, I can identify when something is being inhabited, you forest-destroying monster.
You do not require a dry cleaner to get herbal tea out of a shirt. The shirt was black, the tea was camomile, and you have no grounds on which to stand nor sue. Your company, however, WILL be exposed for the havoc it is wreaking upon our natural world.
Sincerely,
Hermione Jean Granger
CEO of Not being a Twat
