100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,624
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,624
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Sunset
Title: Sunset
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: M/F, insinuations
Summary: #32 – Sunset. Sunset was just before moonrise, and that time was all they had.
Word Count: 823 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. A Remus/Mystery fic. Hermione? Tonks? Someone else? Doesn’t matter, it’s a drabble!
Prompt 32 – Sunset
Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes were all they had. With the sunset came the moonrise, and at that, the dream would end.
She kissed his chest, tongue lashing out to lave a flat nipple, fingernails scratching into slim hips, tearing over old and new scars. He could only weave his fingers through her hair, lost on the sensation of being touched. Leaning back into the wall of an empty bedroom in Grimmauld Place, a room that would soon be locked and warded, he ached.
It was just not his bones or muscles, it was the wolf inside that wished to tear the young woman apart, howl at the taste of her blood as he would come after defiling her body. As it was, the wolf merely wanted to have her for a while longer, protect her smooth golden skin, lick at her most fragrant points, and mount her to take her as a mate.
For a while yet, he was still just a man. As man, he grunted when her mouth found his cock, taking the straining length between her lips. He was overwhelmed, moon time made every touch, every taste, every scent so much more than the human mind could comprehend.
Her mouth moved from his cock to whisper his name. He knew what she wanted, and only at moon time would he ever consider giving it to her. The wolf wanted her though the man was hesitant and afraid.
Grasping her hair, so soft, so warm between his long fingers, he pulled her to her feet, tasting toffee and cream on her tongue. He devoured her mouth, teeth cutting into her lip and tongue. Blood was much better than the sweets she had eaten earlier in the day.
Body moving in a wolfish prowl, faster than she, a mere human, could counteract, he had her face pushed into the unbreakable glass of the only window in the room. Her palms pressed against the panes, her knees moving to rest upon the small battered and initialed trunk underneath the sill. It was still light outside, but the light was failing. He would have to be fast, brutal, if he wanted her out of the room before he changed. Granted, he had taken his potion, but even that did not guarantee that he would not defile her, kill her.
He entered her without preamble, eliciting the sweetest scream. She still had her summery dress on, but he did not rip it as he had wended much of her wardrobe. The pretty, tiny red flower print pleased him. It looked like blood droplets.
With one hand, he held her hair, the other pushing up the skirt of her dress to her waist, fingers biting into the soft skin of her hip. She had not been wearing knickers.
Every thrust was to the bottom of her pussy, to the root of his cock. The wet slap of his sac against her clit pleased him as well. Her back was arched beautifully, her screams eloquent, the tightness of her walls around him heavenly.
The sun was setting, and he could feel his eyes beginning to change, the colour of her dress brighter, the sweat running down the side of her face clear. When the sense of smell was amplified, he knew he had perhaps five minutes to fill her with his come and get her out before the change was upon him.
Oh, how he wished he could have her all night. He wished she was like him, wild, powerful, feral. He had considered it, biting her, marking her, and making her his mate. However, those illogical thoughts only came when he knew he was too close.
She would make a regal were-bitch. A rich toffee coloured coat, hot golden eyes, and a cleverly constructed mind. They could run together, free, romping…
“Gods!” he ground out, the thought of mating her under a full moon too much.
The release was painfully satisfying, but already the moon was beginning to rise. He mumbled something, stumbling back from her, and her face turned to glance up out of the window.
He kissed her, even as his seed trickled along her thighs. He kissed her gently and then begged her to go.
She would linger at the door as she pulled it closed behind her. He could only collapse on the floor, naked, cock spent, mouth open to gasp for breath. He could feel her watching as the door was only just open a crack. He knew she would watch the first part of his transformation, listening to the cracking bones, the howls, and watch, licking her lips when the fur began to replace bare skin.
It was when he would look to the door, wishing to tear it open and have her, that she would close it, a predatory mien in her eyes and face.
Sunset was complete and he paced the warded room, bathed in moonlight.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: M/F, insinuations
Summary: #32 – Sunset. Sunset was just before moonrise, and that time was all they had.
Word Count: 823 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. A Remus/Mystery fic. Hermione? Tonks? Someone else? Doesn’t matter, it’s a drabble!
Prompt 32 – Sunset
Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes were all they had. With the sunset came the moonrise, and at that, the dream would end.
She kissed his chest, tongue lashing out to lave a flat nipple, fingernails scratching into slim hips, tearing over old and new scars. He could only weave his fingers through her hair, lost on the sensation of being touched. Leaning back into the wall of an empty bedroom in Grimmauld Place, a room that would soon be locked and warded, he ached.
It was just not his bones or muscles, it was the wolf inside that wished to tear the young woman apart, howl at the taste of her blood as he would come after defiling her body. As it was, the wolf merely wanted to have her for a while longer, protect her smooth golden skin, lick at her most fragrant points, and mount her to take her as a mate.
For a while yet, he was still just a man. As man, he grunted when her mouth found his cock, taking the straining length between her lips. He was overwhelmed, moon time made every touch, every taste, every scent so much more than the human mind could comprehend.
Her mouth moved from his cock to whisper his name. He knew what she wanted, and only at moon time would he ever consider giving it to her. The wolf wanted her though the man was hesitant and afraid.
Grasping her hair, so soft, so warm between his long fingers, he pulled her to her feet, tasting toffee and cream on her tongue. He devoured her mouth, teeth cutting into her lip and tongue. Blood was much better than the sweets she had eaten earlier in the day.
Body moving in a wolfish prowl, faster than she, a mere human, could counteract, he had her face pushed into the unbreakable glass of the only window in the room. Her palms pressed against the panes, her knees moving to rest upon the small battered and initialed trunk underneath the sill. It was still light outside, but the light was failing. He would have to be fast, brutal, if he wanted her out of the room before he changed. Granted, he had taken his potion, but even that did not guarantee that he would not defile her, kill her.
He entered her without preamble, eliciting the sweetest scream. She still had her summery dress on, but he did not rip it as he had wended much of her wardrobe. The pretty, tiny red flower print pleased him. It looked like blood droplets.
With one hand, he held her hair, the other pushing up the skirt of her dress to her waist, fingers biting into the soft skin of her hip. She had not been wearing knickers.
Every thrust was to the bottom of her pussy, to the root of his cock. The wet slap of his sac against her clit pleased him as well. Her back was arched beautifully, her screams eloquent, the tightness of her walls around him heavenly.
The sun was setting, and he could feel his eyes beginning to change, the colour of her dress brighter, the sweat running down the side of her face clear. When the sense of smell was amplified, he knew he had perhaps five minutes to fill her with his come and get her out before the change was upon him.
Oh, how he wished he could have her all night. He wished she was like him, wild, powerful, feral. He had considered it, biting her, marking her, and making her his mate. However, those illogical thoughts only came when he knew he was too close.
She would make a regal were-bitch. A rich toffee coloured coat, hot golden eyes, and a cleverly constructed mind. They could run together, free, romping…
“Gods!” he ground out, the thought of mating her under a full moon too much.
The release was painfully satisfying, but already the moon was beginning to rise. He mumbled something, stumbling back from her, and her face turned to glance up out of the window.
He kissed her, even as his seed trickled along her thighs. He kissed her gently and then begged her to go.
She would linger at the door as she pulled it closed behind her. He could only collapse on the floor, naked, cock spent, mouth open to gasp for breath. He could feel her watching as the door was only just open a crack. He knew she would watch the first part of his transformation, listening to the cracking bones, the howls, and watch, licking her lips when the fur began to replace bare skin.
It was when he would look to the door, wishing to tear it open and have her, that she would close it, a predatory mien in her eyes and face.
Sunset was complete and he paced the warded room, bathed in moonlight.