Rotkäppchen
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Remus/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
5,352
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Remus/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
5,352
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
Wild
Title: Wild
Set: Lilac
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: AU/AR, Non-Con
Summary: #8 – Wild. ‘Tonight I'm screaming like an animal, tonight I'm losing control, tonight I'm screaming like an animal, tonight oh I'm getting so low.’ ‘All I Want,’ Verse 2 by The Cure.
Word Count: 775 words.
Author's Notes: This set of drabbles is based off of ‘Little Red Riding Hood,’ you can read the fairy story here: http://www.tonightsbedtimestory.com/little-red-riding-hood/
#8 – Wild
He had been waiting for her, and in quick succession, Hermione realized several terrible truths.
“What is your name?” he asked as he backed her into a corner of the cottage.
There were others outside; she could hear them moving in the yard, speaking to each other in harsh, low, and anxious whispers. Even if she could somehow manage to escape the werewolf in the cottage, there were a dozen more waiting outside. With her wand, and her adrenaline fueling her, it would not be enough.
As her hand moved to draw her wand, he moved, claws snatching at the wood and breaking it in a dirty palm like a straw.
“Your name?” he asked again, rougher.
He was aroused; Hermione could see it evidently through his thin and ragged trousers.
“Hermione…” she whispered, trying to rein her fear.
He cocked his head, and for a moment, there was a spark of recognition. It was lost however as he stepped closer, his body straightening, his lightly bearded jaw lifting. He appeared more like a man than a wolf.
“Hermione. ‘mione. Mine. Do you know what is going to happen now?” he asked coolly, peering down his long nose at her with hot eyes.
The resemblance was too much, and Hermione dropped her eyes to the cottage floor. Remus Lupin was dead, yet he stood before her in the darkening cottage.
“You will kill me…” she answered.
He barked a laugh. “Far from it.”
Hermione began to tremble, and when he grasped her upper arms, she began to scream.
The laughter from the outside penetrated the cottage as her crimson cloak was ripped away. She tried to run, but clawed fingers grasped her hair and pulled her back. Claws tore and ripped at her clothing, scratching into the skin underneath.
The moon was beginning to rise on the horizon, but the light had yet to stream through the windows. Hermione’s voice was ragged as the last of her clothing was torn away and her head was pressed into the hook rug before the fire, her cheek surely to bear the imprint of the weave.
On her knees, she tried to push up with her hands, but the weight of a naked body kept her pinned in place. She could feel the hair on his body; smell the forest from his skin. He seemed so large over her, his left hand pressing on the side of her head to keep her down.
Hermione thought she begged through her tears, but he made no sound of acknowledgment. Even when she screamed his name as a clawed finger wiped at the wounds on her back to collect blood, he said nothing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him behind her, on his haunches, licking his bloody fingers. Muscles rippled under pale, scarred skin, and from his pelvis, his cock twitched and swelled.
“Fire…” he mumbled, and as his word the fireplace next to her lit, and she could see him fully in the light.
His shaggy hair was wild about his face, his eyes glowing, and his body taut for action. He would rape her, and possibly devour her. He was not simply a werewolf, but a wizard who had mastery over wandless magic, elemental magic. Hermione was wandless, and with his strength, she doubted she would not be able to fight to much affect. But she would fight, if it meant somehow saving herself.
He licked the length of her spine, blood beginning to congeal where it had flowed previous. His lips smacked sensually, and his hand pulled away from her head so she could look back at him.
Her eyes found his, but there was only wild lust in those chocolate orbs, and nothing more.
“Mine.”
Hermione began to scramble on her hands and knees toward the small kitchen area. She had brought a silver knife; on the off chance that she would find some potion ingredients in the forest… She could defend herself with—
His claws dug into her hips, dragging her back, skinning her knees on the stone floor and the rug.
“Mine,” he repeated, his voice husky.
The tip of his cock jutted into her pelvis and with a scream that defended her and the wolf behind her, she felt the last of her resistance crumble.
The wild wolf that held her fast was not going to let her go. The tearing sensation that made her gag kept his wild lust still for a moment. A gentle hand moved from her bleeding hip to caress her exposed cheek, the tip of a claw catching a tear.
“Mine…” he whispered triumphantly.
Set: Lilac
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: AU/AR, Non-Con
Summary: #8 – Wild. ‘Tonight I'm screaming like an animal, tonight I'm losing control, tonight I'm screaming like an animal, tonight oh I'm getting so low.’ ‘All I Want,’ Verse 2 by The Cure.
Word Count: 775 words.
Author's Notes: This set of drabbles is based off of ‘Little Red Riding Hood,’ you can read the fairy story here: http://www.tonightsbedtimestory.com/little-red-riding-hood/
#8 – Wild
He had been waiting for her, and in quick succession, Hermione realized several terrible truths.
“What is your name?” he asked as he backed her into a corner of the cottage.
There were others outside; she could hear them moving in the yard, speaking to each other in harsh, low, and anxious whispers. Even if she could somehow manage to escape the werewolf in the cottage, there were a dozen more waiting outside. With her wand, and her adrenaline fueling her, it would not be enough.
As her hand moved to draw her wand, he moved, claws snatching at the wood and breaking it in a dirty palm like a straw.
“Your name?” he asked again, rougher.
He was aroused; Hermione could see it evidently through his thin and ragged trousers.
“Hermione…” she whispered, trying to rein her fear.
He cocked his head, and for a moment, there was a spark of recognition. It was lost however as he stepped closer, his body straightening, his lightly bearded jaw lifting. He appeared more like a man than a wolf.
“Hermione. ‘mione. Mine. Do you know what is going to happen now?” he asked coolly, peering down his long nose at her with hot eyes.
The resemblance was too much, and Hermione dropped her eyes to the cottage floor. Remus Lupin was dead, yet he stood before her in the darkening cottage.
“You will kill me…” she answered.
He barked a laugh. “Far from it.”
Hermione began to tremble, and when he grasped her upper arms, she began to scream.
The laughter from the outside penetrated the cottage as her crimson cloak was ripped away. She tried to run, but clawed fingers grasped her hair and pulled her back. Claws tore and ripped at her clothing, scratching into the skin underneath.
The moon was beginning to rise on the horizon, but the light had yet to stream through the windows. Hermione’s voice was ragged as the last of her clothing was torn away and her head was pressed into the hook rug before the fire, her cheek surely to bear the imprint of the weave.
On her knees, she tried to push up with her hands, but the weight of a naked body kept her pinned in place. She could feel the hair on his body; smell the forest from his skin. He seemed so large over her, his left hand pressing on the side of her head to keep her down.
Hermione thought she begged through her tears, but he made no sound of acknowledgment. Even when she screamed his name as a clawed finger wiped at the wounds on her back to collect blood, he said nothing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him behind her, on his haunches, licking his bloody fingers. Muscles rippled under pale, scarred skin, and from his pelvis, his cock twitched and swelled.
“Fire…” he mumbled, and as his word the fireplace next to her lit, and she could see him fully in the light.
His shaggy hair was wild about his face, his eyes glowing, and his body taut for action. He would rape her, and possibly devour her. He was not simply a werewolf, but a wizard who had mastery over wandless magic, elemental magic. Hermione was wandless, and with his strength, she doubted she would not be able to fight to much affect. But she would fight, if it meant somehow saving herself.
He licked the length of her spine, blood beginning to congeal where it had flowed previous. His lips smacked sensually, and his hand pulled away from her head so she could look back at him.
Her eyes found his, but there was only wild lust in those chocolate orbs, and nothing more.
“Mine.”
Hermione began to scramble on her hands and knees toward the small kitchen area. She had brought a silver knife; on the off chance that she would find some potion ingredients in the forest… She could defend herself with—
His claws dug into her hips, dragging her back, skinning her knees on the stone floor and the rug.
“Mine,” he repeated, his voice husky.
The tip of his cock jutted into her pelvis and with a scream that defended her and the wolf behind her, she felt the last of her resistance crumble.
The wild wolf that held her fast was not going to let her go. The tearing sensation that made her gag kept his wild lust still for a moment. A gentle hand moved from her bleeding hip to caress her exposed cheek, the tip of a claw catching a tear.
“Mine…” he whispered triumphantly.