1 - 20 of 82 Works by llcooljones
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All he could smell was her sweet cunt. Her sweet, Omega scent. His urgency all but forgotten, his wand arm limp, his jaw slackened, caught up in the smell of Hermione, Draco could not think; summer air in the countryside, rich with fragrance, flavour spilled over his tongue, down his throat.
Omega, she was an Omega. She had to be — Draco had gone on enough dates (forced by his mother, arranged by Pansy, set up by Blaise and Theo) with Beta witches, to know that there was no way to truly replicate an Omega’s scent. The perfumes, potions, essences, were overly sweet and chemically, artificial in a way that made him cringe, sneeze, and curse.
Draco ignored twenty years of knowledge and hard proof, allowed his blood to be infused with delirious hope.
or, Hermione has her first heat and Draco is sent by to perform a welfare check on her, after which, things spiral into filth.
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staked through the heart, and you're to blame by llcooljones
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
27 Oct 2024
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“Why’d we stop?” panted out, on the last breath in her lungs.
“Because, if we keep going like this, I’m gonna end up fucking you in front of all these people. And I figure, you probably don’t want that.” His words were rough as he kept eye contact with Hermione, his fingers stroking at her.
or, a really, really sappy one-night stand between a shy girl and a kind frat boy that probably won't stay a one-night stand.
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Hermione wound her fingertips through the mess of blond hair on his head, unwilling to part with him until absolutely necessary. Soon, she’d be cradled in the arms of another, but not now. Now, she had him, her Guard, and so much more. Thick, muscular arms wrapped around her waist, pushing her onto him. If they could, she knew he’d be using his strength to push her into him, to keep her warm and safe in the bones of his rib cage. Her, his heart — they were interchangeable.
Sighing into his ear, she closed her eyes against reality. Slipped through clouds, landed in a world where she never had to let go, landed in a world where she was his, and he was hers, and life was theirs for the taking.
or, a moment between a princess and her bodyguard.
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My little collection of drabbles, that I'm slowly growing.
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She looked at the time again, pondering someone else. He’d be asleep, probably wrapped up with his wife, like Hermione was supposed to be with her husband. His wife would be satisfied, he’d never let her go to bed with fewer than two orgasms and a slap on the ass. Experience had taught her well, but jealousy clawed vicious scars in her throat. She rubbed her thumb over the hollow, rested her hand on her décolletage.
or, Hermione Granger's husband can't satisfy her.
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i could never define all that you are to me by llcooljones
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
12 Jun 2024
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They were two sides of the same coin, puzzle pieces that fit only each other.
Whoever had written that Greek myth on the origins of humans — four legs, four arms, a head with two faces, a whole, split in half by Zeus, punished, spending the rest of their lives seeking their matching half, a whole — they had written it of Hermione and Draco.
or, Draco comes home from a work trip to find his wife has broken the rules.
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As he turned and guided Crookshanks to where he needed him, Malfoy’s arms bunched and released — revealing how absolutely huge they were. Hermione wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed the massive strain they put on his sleeves. Under one of the pale blue cuffs, she could see the makings of a tattoo, scales and claws, and maybe the tips of some wings: a dragon of some sort.
Nice eyes, thick hair, warm voice, muscular physique, and tattooed? And her vet? Hermione was in such trouble.
OR, Hermione's worried about Crookshanks, and takes him to the vet, only to be driven to distraction by the man. It spells trouble, but the very best kind.
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Saturdays in the Granger-Malfoy household were reserved for relaxation, rest, and orgasms.
The first two in bucketfuls, never leaving best before eight in the morning, watching films and catching up on TV shows they’d missed during hectic work weeks, luxuriating in the other’s company. Just the two of them — three of them, soon — and comfort food and love.
OR, Draco wants to show his wife how much he loves her, and Hermione is ready to be shown, vigorously.
Series
- Part 2 of Dr and Mrs
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It was the first true day of British summer.
Hermione had, like any good English citizen, woken in the morning, pulled the curtains open, and immediately turned to her husband lying next to her, making a joke along the lines of ‘what is this light, I couldn’t tell you, I mean what on earth is it?’ Her husband had, like any good husband, indulged her by laughing softly into his pillow and pulling her closer to his body.
OR, it's the first day of summer, and Hermione would like to be fucked in the garden.
Series
- Part 1 of Dr and Mrs
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Neck twisting over his shoulder with all the grace of a swan, Draco rebutted with all the clucking of one as well. “Nothing about you is pedestrian, Granger, I’m not sure it could be when so much of you is your hair.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “Yes, and your hair being quite that shade of blond isn’t incestuous.” With a light laugh in response, Draco twisted to sit up in Hermione’s bed, head propped against her headboard, toeing off his boots so he could rest his legs across her bed. The hideous thing about that was the idea that Draco Malfoy had spent so many evenings bothering her, in her quarters, that he knew how to scratch her cat, knew not to prop his shoes on the bed, knew that Hermione would take no offence to his jesting, just so as long as she could do her own fair share back.
OR, after five years of teaching at Hogwarts together, Draco and Hermione finally realise how much they mean to one another.
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When it comes to finding someone to date, Aelin struggles, because how does someone ask a person out? After spotting a hot guy at the Christmas Market, Elide finds the perfect solution.
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Rowan Galathynius-Whitethorn will never stop reminding himself of how much of a lucky bastard he is, he'll never stop thinking about it. It fills most of his day, despite being a busy CEO, and he reflects on his relationship with Aelin Galathynius-Whitethorn.
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Rowan and Aelin have built a business from the ground up, designed to support others just like them. The Doranelle Christmas Market is the best place to sell, but Christmas Eve brings challenges for Aelin. Luckily her husband is there, for whatever she needs.
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Aelin has a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to her mother, dating, and having 'stepdaddies' at the age of twenty-seven—and if that means she has to spend her Christmas season at a ski resort, so be it. She'd rather suffer through that, than the newest douchebag her mother had decided to bring home.
She's been visiting the Staghorn Mountains during Christmas for over eight years, and has never had a single complaint to voice. It all changes one fateful morning on the hardest slope they offer, when she encounters, quite frankly, the rudest skier ever.
And she won't take it sat down, not his rudeness, not his idiocracy, nor his dangerous behaviours on the slopes. She'll take it standing, with her fist raised and her legs planted, thank you very much.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,942
- Chapters:
- 1/?
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 186
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It's Christmas Eve at the Whitethorn-Galathynius house, and when Aelin and Rowan hear their first dance song, they escape to the kitchen for an interlude.
Based on In a Week by Hozier feat. Karen Crowley.
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Rowan Whitethorn and Aelin Ashryver Galathynius knew each other, at some point in the past, and when chance puts them on intersecting paths once more, they discover they still know each other, and want to know more.
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What are weddings for, if not finally telling truth? What are weddings for, if not delusional brides and husbands who love them anyway? What are weddings for, if not the story of how it all began?
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When filling up the stockings which hang by their fireplace with care, Rowan and Aelin share an intimate embrace, but unbeknownst to them one of their children has snuck down to catch Santa and instead catches mummy kissing Santa Claus.
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With so many years of combat under her belt, Aelin can barely get through a day without coming face to face with a personal trigger. But when a song playing in Rowan's bar reminds her of some of the worst times of her life, she needs it to be turned off.
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Rowan and Aelin had been dating for nine months, which means they haven't had to have the talk, the one where you decide whose parents you're around with for Christmas, which means that when it comes to having the talk, everything goes a little awry.