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Hermione Granger Leather Thong

The Undead's Personal Slave

Samantha never expected to find magic in her hometown, let alone in a dimly lit bar on a rainy Tuesday night. Yet here she was, perched on a barstool at the Black Swan, her world about to tilt on its axis. The air thrummed with an otherworldly energy she couldn't quite place. Ethereal dancers moved like smoke across the floor, their bodies fluid and mesmerizing. As Samantha nursed her drink, she felt the weight of curious stares prickling her skin. That's when she saw him. Marcus. A name she didn't know yet, but one that would soon be etched into her very soul. Their eyes locked across the crowded room, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat. He moved with predatory grace, all lean muscle and barely restrained power. Their first interaction was as intoxicating as it was bewildering. One moment, he was her gallant protector, rescuing her from an overly aggressive drunk. The next, his eyes hardened to chips of ice as he snarled, "Stupid girl," before melting into the shadows. Samantha's mind reeled, but her body hummed with an excitement she couldn't explain. Little did she know, this encounter was merely the first step into a world beyond her wildest fantasies – a realm where vampires ruled the night and pain blurred exquisitely with pleasure. As she delved deeper into this hidden society, Samantha found herself drawn to the intoxicating blend of power, submission, and supernatural allure. The crack of a whip, the whisper of leather, the exquisite sting of fangs – each sensation pushed her boundaries and ignited desires she never knew existed. But with every ecstatic high came the sobering reality of danger. Vampire politics were as deadly as they were intricate, and Samantha soon realized she was a pawn in a game where the stakes were life, death, and eternal servitude. As she left the Black Swan that night, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling that she stood on the precipice of something life-changing. She had no idea how right she was, or how deeply she would fall into a passionate, dangerous dance with forces beyond her imagination. The real question was: in this world where pleasure and peril intertwined so intimately, would she emerge empowered... or lose herself completely?
rach_sales · 126.9K Views

The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Draven is a magic professor in a fantasy world. He is also an earl, notorious for his evil deeds and mistakes since youth. His downfall is due to a curse that hinders his intellectual potential and his talents. Eventually, he becomes a villain, losing everything he holds dear: his siblings, fiancée, house, domain, and more. After a miserable death, he reincarnates in the modern world as Dravis Granger. In his new life, he grows up to be a highly intellectual individual oblivious towards his previous life, becoming a young professor in mechanical engineering and a researcher. However, he harbors a strange obsession with creating a game, fueled by vivid imaginings of another world. This obsession leads him to develop a game that mirrors his previous life. Upon completing his virtual reality world, he regains his past memories. Overwhelmed by intense emotions—rage, sadness, and the realization of his past ugliness—he suffers a fatal heart attack. In his final moments, he hears a voice, seemingly from the world itself, offering him a chance to return to his original fantasy world. However, he would only retain the memories of his modern life, not those of his first life’s mistakes. He agrees and is reincarnated once more, this time with the knowledge of a modern mechanical engineering professor. But one thing about the Dravis Granger, he's not just a mechanical engineer professor. Not just a straight, killer genius professor. He has his ideals, and the world is too full of villains for his great idealism. So he strived, with his great mind, he became a mastermind. But not as a villain, but as a person who has lost hope in police and justice, and decided to help the people by his own hand. Collecting victims and invited those handpicked talents to his side, making several insane stunts, assassinating, trapping, and eradicating the scums from the world. But now in this fantasy world, he has to survive from multiple factions trying to kill him, protect his domain, protect his siblings, protect his fiance, and the most important thing. Protect the world. But he hadn't lost the Dravis from the modern world. As a professor at the morning, an earl at the afternoon, and a dark knight at the night. _____________________________ "You've hurt my student." Draven stands still, no mana seems to emit from him, but just a single frown. A frown that is enough to make the room's heavy. "As a teacher, you think I would leave you unpunished?" "You seem to think that I care about your position, Prince Hermit. But believe me," Draven took a slow step. "Not even your father could protect you from me," _____________________________ Daily Update 2 Chapters = 14 chapters/week Some Friendly Rewards 100 Powerstones = +2 chapters in that day 200 Powerstones = +4 chapters in that day 50 Golden Tickets = +4 chapters in that day 1 Gift = +4 chapters in that day _____________________________ One of the King of Kings Series
Arkalphaze · 1.1M Views

The Billionaire's Amnesiac Fiancé

He may have lost his memories, but he hasn't forgotten the warmth of her touch. Camilla Brentwood seemed to have it all. His love, his ring, and a promise of forever. She enjoyed all that until a stormy night changed everything. Billionaire Andrew Millers awakens from a coma with no memory of the woman who once held his heart. Instead, he finds Tanis, Camilla’s best friend who has now become a clever imposter, claiming his affection, his identity, and soon… his surname. Caught in a harsh web of lies and deceit, Camilla must battle not just for the truth, but for the man who once cherished only her. But how do you win back a heart that doesn’t recognize you… and doesn’t believe you? As secrets unfold, old passions reignite, and betrayal cuts deeper than ever, Camilla teeters on the brink of obsession and redemption. In this relentless struggle of love and memory—who will he ultimately choose when his heart starts to remember what his mind has forgotten? Excerpt (Teaser): "You look at me like we ‘ve shared something… something deep between us." Camilla's voice quivered, yet she remained steady. Her eyes locked onto his, caught in the whirlwind of feelings that had been building within her since the moment he forgot her. Andrew "Drew" Millers, the man who once ignited her passion and stirred her heart, stood mere inches away. His smoky eyes and tempting lips were unchanged, but now they felt empty. Frigid. Still, there was a flicker behind his lashes—something unspoken and unsettling. He took a step closer. His cologne enveloped her, dark leather mingled with memories of forbidden nights. His presence filled the air, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. "Do I know you?" he asked, his voice a smooth, low rasp that had once made her weak in the knees. Now, it felt like a sharp blade. Camilla's breath caught in her throat. Her fingers clenched at her sides. "You used to explore every part of me with your hands," she murmured, searching his expression. "You called me your home... your everything….. we imagined a future together" His jaw tightened. She pressed on. "You once said," she continued, her voice now a fierce whisper, “that even if you lost your memory, your body would still long for mine before your mind could catch up.” Silence hung heavily between them. Then his gaze fell to her lips. He moved without thinking, or perhaps it was the instinct that drove him. One hand cradled her jaw, while the other gripped her waist as if he were relearning how to breathe. And then… He kissed her. Passionately. Desperately. Like instinct had finally broken free. Tanis's voice cut through the moment like a sharp knife. "Drew!" He pulled away from Camilla as if he had been scorched, but his breath was uneven, and his pupils were wide. "What the hell was that?" he demanded. Camilla's smile was tinged with sadness. "That," she replied softly, "was your soul recalling what your mind has forgotten." [Add to collection to see what Tanis does next—and why Drew finds himself calling out Camilla’s name in his sleep the following night… with Tanis lying right next to him, making him question everything… especially the woman he believes he’s about to marry.]
baybrownie · 1.8K Views

imperial celestial

Once every 10,000 years, the heavens open, and the Mortal Realm is cast into turmoil. The Great Reset begins—a cosmic reckoning where empires fall, beasts awaken, and only the strongest carve their names into eternity. For those who survive, the path to the Astral Realm and the right to claim divinity awaits. Raikai, a warrior forged in storms, wields the power of the Celestial Iron Body Cultivation, his flesh tempered into living steel. His Death Arms—twin scythes bound by chains—dance like a mythological dragon, crackling with lightning, capturing and tearing apart those who stand in his way. Beside him stands Shinryu, swift and precise, blessed by the Celestial Tiger. His Death Arms, a pair of white leather gloves with retractable claws, strike with divine speed—every slash a whisper of the heavens’ fury. Together, they ascend the path of blood and power, bound by brotherhood yet tested by fate. Their bond is their greatest strength, but in a world where the Death Arms grow with their wielders—feeding on their victories and failures—power often demands a terrible price. As the 10,000-year Reset begins, ancient titans stir, forgotten sects rise from the shadows, and primordial beasts long thought extinct awaken. The heavens will bear witness as Raikai and Shinryu defy the gods—or die trying. In an age where flesh is reforged into iron and weapons evolve alongside the soul—two brothers will challenge destiny itself!
kaidoakario · 11.9K Views

The Erratum

“Aegir..” A single word remains in Cetas’ mind as he succumbs to the everlasting pressure of the depths - a glimmer of light filtering from above. He floats endlessly, the tidal currents rushing his body to who-knows-where yet he remains unconscious as the word echoes in his mind. He no longer remembers any memories that he once had but only mere fragments of what his past once was. A depth-dweller. A long lost race of ancient, forgotten in history as humans usurped the throne of the world, claiming superiority amongst other races of legend. After the war of mystics, only humans endured to live and gather themselves once more - dominating the entire world by force. Yet, depth dwellers remained - hidden and forgotten. And now.. The first would rise up on the surface. For hours upon hours, Cetas let the currents take him away, rendering his consciousness useless everytime he woke up. But now, it seemed that a warm and radiating light pierced his very pressurized skin. It was.. unfamiliar. He opened his eyes only to be greeted by a rocking hull, shaking synchronously with the sound of crashing waves. Yet, somewhere near him, he heard a faint and soft voice speaking a foreign language. He shifted his head to the direction of the voice and saw an unfamiliar face of a golden-haired lady with sea-like blue eyes, staring at him with utmost curiosity. The lady opened her mouth and let out another wave of unfamiliar words. Perplexed, Cetas sat up slowly, moving his body sluggishly. He then gazed at his surroundings, first staring at the massive rocking hull and onto the wooden floor and to the people surrounding him. Some wore bandanas and others wore white-loose blouses paired with leather boots and tricorn hats. However, Cetas wasn’t at all surprised by the unfamiliar scenery. But rather, he gazed above the sky, reaching far beyond the clouds, and saw the burning sphere of light that penetrated his deep-black eyes. Upon staring for 5 seconds he instinctively winced in pain. “Ow!” He looked around once more, pacing his head back and forth towards the unfamiliar people around him, and pondered, “Where am I?”
DauntlessBrother · 9.9K Views

MY PERVERT BOSS

"But sir," she protested weakly, her voice laced with lust, "I thought... I thought that was my punishment." Mr. Kapoor chuckled darkly, his hand coming down in a swift slap that made her yelp. "Shut up," he barked, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You're going to get more than you bargained for." His hand traced the reddened marks on her skin, his fingers lingering on the most sensitive areas. Shreya felt a shiver of anticipation as she bent over the desk again, her legs spread wide. She could feel the cool air against her wet pussy, her thong now soaked with his juices. Mr. Kapoor stepped closer, his hand moving to the small of her back, pushing her down even further. "You liked that?" he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "Yes, sir," she replied, her voice a breathless pant. She couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth, but she couldn't deny the truth of them. Every part of her was on fire, desperate for more of his touch. Mr. Kapoor's hand slid down her back, his fingers toying with the waistband of her skirt. "You've been a very naughty girl, Shreya," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "I think it's time for a more... creative punishment." Shreya's heart skipped a beat as she felt something cold and hard press against her pussy. She glanced over her shoulder to see Mr. Kapoor holding a highlighter, the neon pink color glinting in the light. "What are you doing, sir?" she asked, her voice a tremble. "Punishing you," he replied, his voice a low, dark promise. "And I want to hear you beg for it." He pushed the highlighter inside her, the plastic sliding easily through her wetness. She gasped, her eyes widening in shock and pleasure. It was an unusual sensation, something she had never experienced before. Mr. Kapoor began to move the highlighter in and out of her, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body. "Tell me, slut," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Does it feel good to have my highlighter in your cunt?" Shreya whimpered, unable to form coherent words. She had never felt anything like this before, the taboo nature of the act only heightening her arousal. "Y-yes, sir," she managed to stutter, her voice shaky. "It feels... it feels amazing." Mr. Kapoor chuckled, his hand moving the highlighter faster. "You're going to love what comes next"
only_yours121 · 8.2K Views

Rosabelle Dumbledore and the Magic of Second Chances

written by help of ChatGPT Albus Dumbledore was her father, or rather, he had adopted her when she was just an infant. She never questioned how she came into his care—until the memories of another life surfaced. She remembered being someone else. A girl from another world, a world where Harry Potter was merely a book series. She had died young, and when given a second chance, she had been granted three wishes. She had wished for magic, the ability to shape her own destiny, and a loving family. The universe, it seemed, had a sense of humor. Rosabelle was a Metamorphmagus, gifted with the ability to change her appearance at will. It was a rare and powerful magic, one that set her apart even in the wizarding world. But more importantly, she was Albus Dumbledore's daughter, raised in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts and beloved by the greatest wizard of the age. Growing up in the castle had been a dream, but she quickly realized that being a Dumbledore came with its own expectations. While Albus loved her dearly, he was often busy, leaving her in the care of Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. She learned magic swiftly, surpassing her peers with natural talent and a sharp intellect. Her Metamorphmagus abilities were a secret she guarded closely, using them only when necessary. When she was old enough to understand the world around her, she realized something chilling—she was living in the story of Harry Potter. A world she once read about was now her reality, and she knew what was coming. The rise of Voldemort, the trials Harry would endure, and the pain her father would suffer. She decided then and there that she would change fate. She would not allow things to unfold as they had before. As the years passed, Rosabelle kept a close eye on the events around her. She befriended Severus Snape when she was just a child, seeing the broken, lonely boy beneath the cold exterior. She tried to guide him toward a different path, hoping he would not make the same tragic mistakes. When Harry Potter arrived at Hogwarts, she watched him carefully, ensuring he stayed on track without interfering too much. But sometimes, she couldn't help herself. "Rosabelle, why do you always show up when things get complicated?" Harry once asked, frustrated after she had pulled him out of trouble with Peeves. She had merely smirked. "I have a knack for knowing when to be in the right place at the right time." But it wasn't just about protecting Harry. She wanted to make sure that people who had suffered in the original timeline found happiness. She subtly nudged Neville Longbottom toward confidence, helped Hermione Granger embrace her brilliance without isolating herself, and kept Draco Malfoy from falling too far into his family's dark legacy. And then there was her father. She knew what would happen to Albus Dumbledore. She knew about the cursed ring, the painful sacrifices, and his eventual demise. She refused to accept it. If she had been given this life and this knowledge, she would use it to protect the ones she loved. One evening, she confronted him in his office. "I know you're hiding something from me." Dumbledore sighed, his blue eyes twinkling with sadness. "My dear, there are things that even I cannot change." Rosabelle clenched her fists. "That's not true. You always say that the future is not set in stone. If that's the case, then I refuse to let you sacrifice yourself." He smiled at her, pride evident in his expression. "You have your mother's fire." She didn't know who her biological mother was, but in that moment, it didn't matter. Albus Dumbledore was her father, and she would do anything to save him. As the war loomed closer, Rosabelle realized that despite all her efforts, fate had a way of fighting back. Some things seemed destined to happen no matter what she did. But she wasn't afraid. She had magic, she had knowledge, and most importantly, she had people who believed in her. For rosaBelle Dumbledore was not just another piece
cawo21 · 539 Views

He Comes At Night

Rose stood defiantly, eyes locked onto his golden ones as she lifted the hem of her small top, exposing the smooth expanse of her stomach before peeling the fabric over her head. The red glittering bra shimmering under moonlight as if made for this very moment. She ignored the tremor of anticipation curling in her gut. None of that mattered. Not even the reckless haze of drugs clouding her thoughts. Tonight, she was in control. This was a mission. A mission to keep his attention solely on her so could save her friend from his curse. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts, her breath steadying when she saw him go rigid. Shoulders squared. Posture tensed. Not in fear. Not in disgust. But in something far sinister. His Interest. “Yes… feast your depraved little eyes and filthy mind on this,” she whispered, smirking as the shorts fell away, pooling at her ankles. The silky red thong clung to her hips, the moonlight accentuating every curve of her body. She flicked the discarded clothing aside, shifting her weight slightly as she let her nightly visitor drink in the sight of her naked glory. His posture no longer that of boredom. Good. That was exactly what she wanted. More like, what intoxicated, irrational Rose wanted. She twirled, giving him a deliberate view, rolling her hips just enough to torment. “Since you’ve made my life a living hell, I might as well return the favor.” She cast a wicked smile over her shoulder. “Consider this my gift to you—one you’ll never get to touch.” By the time she turned back, her stomach plummeted. He had moved. No longer a distant silhouette in the meadow—he now stood at the edge of her patio. Much closer and so much real. The thrill that had fueled her was fading slowly. Had she just made a mistake playing this game with her stalker? Swallowing hard, she lowered herself onto the chair, parting her bare legs wide and letting the wooden cross dangle before her barely covered cherry, in a taunt. A silent challenge. His fingers curled around the wooden rail, veins standing taut against the black ink of his tattoos. His chest rose and fell, controlled but heavier, as though restraining something barely contained beneath his skin. "Want a taste, my dear stalker?" Rose whispers She had him pinned. Or so she thought. Her shadowy visitor moves. Slow, deliberate steps leading closer. Panic slammed into her. No. Rose bolted upright, pressing the cross against the glass door separating them. “Stay back!” Her voice wavered a bit. “I swear, I’ll burn your stalking ass right where you stand!” He stilled. A beat of silence. Then— A low, quiet chuckle rumbled through the night air, reaching her ears like smoke. Deep and Dark. Her stomach twisted. The sound was foreign, yet eerily familiar. As if she had always known this was how he would sound. His hands rose in mock surrender, his hooded head tilting slightly, as if entertained by her little performance. Then, as effortlessly as he had closed the distance, he stepped back. Rose’s breath fastened. She was playing with fire, willingly, by provoking the one who comes out at night and remain in shadows. And he was enjoying it.   == In the embrace of her ancestral town, Rose seeks refuge from the echoes of her past. Little does she know, her return to her roots will awaken dormant shadows, shattering ordinary her existence. For when the darkness falls over the town, from the pitch black rises a shadowy figure that haunt her nights. In the darkness he sweeps her off the ground in terrible fear and the allure of sinister intrigue. And once the sun comes, a man with a god awful attitude, haunts her in the broad day light. Causing her to swell with pure disdain. With each passing night, it draws closer to Rose, casting a chilling spell that both terrifies and exhilarates her. Thrust into a labyrinth of mysteries can she navigate the treacherous path laid before her, or will her nightly visitor consume her whole?
AkumaQuil · 40K Views

Beyond The Celestial Veil

Purity a lowercase, clumsy, weak but determined angel suddenly volunteered to fight Abaddon, the 7th prince of hell who was pushed to earth to cause chaos on earth taking souls through deals Reborn but adopted into a family of riches and wealth faced bullying from her family but was favored by the head. Balancing her duties as an angel and the perfect granddaughter, It was purity’s job to take souls to heaven was it was time, both Abaddon and purity crossed paths couple of times but didn’t have any interaction. Roaming countries and countries for centuries Abaddon didn’t mind to purity until one night in an intense fight they were struck by lightning waking up they switched powers. ……………………………………… waking up to a burning sensation on her forehead purity whimpered, rubbing her head which just made the pain worse. looking around she wasn’t in her room, she was enveloped in an atmosphere of dark luxury.the air thick with leather and polished wood. candelabras with black candles cast flickering shadows on the walls adorned with intricate gold patterns. Massive, velvet- upholstered in deep burgundy and ebony wood chaise lounge dominated the space. A grand piano it’s ebony surface polished to mirror sheen sits silently in a corner. The bed which she layed on a grand king sized bed with black silk duvet and matching velvet pillows the wood on the head board was flawlessly carved with designs reminiscent of anique demon seal the bed positioned centrally purity jumped up seeing Abaddon staring at her with rage a halo atop his head his wings white but black in the very end and most importantly the cross tattoo on his wrist. “why are you with my halo?” purity stood on the bed attempting to take it but Abaddon threw her to the vanity table shattering the mirror “what did you do?!” Purity got up bleeding from her side she looked at herself in the shattered glass an upside down cross on her forehead her wings black, purity screamed “what did you do?!” she ran to punching his chest but Abaddon quickly raised her by the neck his grip tightening, purity couldn’t breathe the doors burst open Abaddon immediately dropped purity who gasped for air before looking up her voice still chocked “I can explain”
Bubbles2009 · 2.6K Views

Palimpsest Hearts

In his previous life, Lucian Sinclair had pursued the truth behind his fiancé Malcolm Fitzgerald's fatal car accident with relentless determination - only to meet the same grim fate beneath the twisted metal of his Bentley on a rain-lashed M25 motorway. When consciousness returned, the industrialist found himself thrust back to his 24-year-old self, the digital clock on his Mayfair bedside table blinking December 16th, 2016. Malcolm's Alpine skiing accident had already occurred three days prior. He promptly took legal guardianship of the brooding 15-year-old left in the wreckage - Finn Fitzgerald, Malcolm's half-brother through their father's second marriage. The boy Lucian remembered from charity galas had grown feral-eyed, all scraped knuckles and boarding school blazers gone threadbare at the elbows. This time, Lucian vowed, the boy would receive proper upbringing. Not out of affection, but as penance for never deciphering Malcolm's last encrypted text: "Tell Luce the Range Rover's brakes—" Finn initially regarded his guardian with wary deference, this icy aristocrat who wore his brother's signet ring on a platinum chain. "Malcolm said you collect Renaissance maps," the teen offered during tense dinners, pushing peas across Wedgwood china. "Malcolm told me you hate tulips." Each invocation of the dead man's name hung between them like altar smoke. Yet gradually, the dynamic shifted. Lucian caught Finn glaring when he traced the Fitzgerald jawline they shared. The boy began arriving late from Eton weekends, reeking of stolen whiskey and defiance. During one particularly vicious row over a shredded Oxford acceptance letter, Finn slammed Lucian's wheelchair against the study wall. "Why must I be his ghost?" The teen's breath fogged the cold glass of Malcolm's portrait. "You look at me like I'm some...some flawed taxidermy of your perfect banker boy!" Lucian's cane clattered to the hardwood. Perfect? Malcolm had been laundering funds through their engagement - a truth he'd discovered two lifetimes too late. Now this living, breathing Fitzgerald heir stood before him, all cracked leather satchel and mismatched socks, demanding to be seen. Outside, the Thames glittered with secrets. In the cellar vault, a dossier gathered dust - crime scene photos, offshore account records, and the Range Rover's brake lines sliced clean through. Lucian's fingers twitched toward the whisky decanter. Let the dead keep their mysteries. This Fitzgerald needed saving more.
DaoisthrquXu · 3.7K Views

FIST OF ENTITY

*Title:* Fist of Eternity *Genre:* Martial Arts, Fantasy, Action *Story:* Joon-Oh Kim, a high school student, is a martial artist who possesses a unique gift – the ability to tap into his Chi and Ki. His family, renowned for their martial arts prowess, has trained him in various fighting styles since childhood. However, Joon-Oh's life takes a dramatic turn when he discovers a mysterious, ancient tome hidden within his family's dojo. The tome, bound in black leather and adorned with strange symbols, is said to hold the secrets of the "Eternal Fist" technique. As Joon-Oh delves deeper into the tome, he's confronted by a powerful entity – the "Devourer of Shadows." The entity offers Joon-Oh a pact: in exchange for granting him immense power and abilities, Joon-Oh would have to surrender a portion of his soul. Joon-Oh, eager to surpass his family's legacy and protect those he cares about, agrees to the pact. As a result, he gains access to the "Eternal Fist" technique, which allows him to tap into his Chi and Ki like never before. With his newfound abilities, Joon-Oh must navigate the complex world of martial arts, where powerful practitioners wield elemental abilities and forge pacts with mysterious entities. As he battles his way through tournaments and confronts formidable foes, Joon-Oh must also struggle to maintain control over his own darkness. *Themes:* - Self-discovery and empowerment - Balancing power and responsibility - The struggle between light and darkness *Target Audience:* - Young adults interested in martial arts, fantasy, and action - Fans of anime and manga series like "God of High School" and "Wind Breaker"
adekoyawalter038 · 768 Views
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