For Hades' Sake (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/292426643-for-hades%27-sake?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=MyHeartBeatsForDorne&wp_originator=OjapsiI5NlLGbjc%2BR5v2idbjjLtLqfVMlMMIBT8V5n6sMaPlWLePKTfPEhp9tukwX90uAINjFsJKfLuAVsCMSqiaBsDxQ4RU2cWd1pbxWhrD8LhARR4QwSImDhEW3sUV Irma Wellington is a 26 years old Maths and Physics teacher, who has been working in a High School. She's stubborn and highly realistic, with her feet always stood on the ground firmly. Hades is the Lord of Underworld, the oldest of three brothers, the betrayed one and a sociopath. On the other hand, he's a good, righteous and opinionated king of the Underworld. What would happen, if the grumpiest man in the world fell in love with a woman, who'd be an epitome of life?
Knocking On Heaven's Door (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/118188548-knocking-on-heaven%27s-door?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=MyHeartBeatsForDorne&wp_originator=Q2Cyq5NpGU%2BCFuQJG8Hg%2BPEJW8l%2BxWmiBVDiQvO8ATJi6SiNffABHapbkDx7eXJ4OzyW57hS00vUjpv4Seg3xbDdOVgxPqRQLCQCO0u779F7IXWC7U9ZyIJSJWLuHtNR Isobel MacDougal is anything but a hero. She's been trading with homeworks, skating on thin ice between Slytherin and Gryffindor, being a legit bloodtraitor armed with sarcasm and realism. Among that, Isobel believes she's a happy, average witch, and that nothing could destroy her image of becoming a famous drummer. What would happen if the Slytherin prince himself chose her to help him with something that's beyond his knowledge and abilities? Will she help him or choose the easier option and send him to hell?
Bella decided against joining the celebration of a huge victory of the Death Eaters. She simply took a glass of champaigne and went upstairs, to her room. She had paid attention to catch an eye of her future husband, before she left the living room for good. Then, when she managed to climb the stairs, she kicked off her burgundy pumps. "Mind to help me with the dress?" She asked into the silence of the room, guessing Rod's presence.
Rod had been having a good time with his acquaintances, drinking and laughing with his fellow Death Eaters in celebration. The ability to let go after such a stressful mission was much needed and definitely appreciated. He was with Rosier, Malfoy, and a few others when a flash of black caught his eye, the vision of Bellatrix exiting the room after glancing his way and purposefully drawing his attention making him pause and excuse himself from the festivities. He kept his bottle of whiskey with him as he ascended to the bedroom she was in, closing and locking the door behind him. Not wanting to disrupt the stewing mood and the brewing sexual tension in the room, he quietly placed his bottle on the dresser by the door before stepping up behind his wife to be. “Of course, my dear,” he whispered, placing his lips right by her ear as he placed his hands on her waist before sliding them to her back, slowly undoing the clasps of her gown.
This, whatever this was, was nice, Rod decided. He liked nice. He needed nice. He also needed rough and bloody and hard, but he was quite content with nice. Not that he would tell anyone outside of this room. It would definitely ruin his reputation, he decided.
His eyes stayed glued on his fiance, a smirk ever present on his lips as he listened to the gorgeous raven affirm everything he wanted, a small chuckle as he bit his lip escaping from his mouth. “And here I thought you would want to spend our honeymoon shagging the most beautiful man in the world,” he muttered, “instead of murdering and rampaging. But I won’t change you from the deviant devil you really are.”
He laughed before pushing her gently to the bed, falling with her as she was still entwined with his neck, which he did not want her to stop touching. It made him feel…… wanted. Loved. Happy. Content. “I refuse to see you as anything except pure perfection, my darling Bella,” he mused, running his fingers through her hair to push it away from her face.
“If you think I can’t handle you,” Rod responded, shaking his head slowly, “ then you clearly underestimate me. I accept you for you. And all your craziness. No matter how batshit you may be. But if you are actually a bloke, we may have a problem…….. actually…….. we’ll work with it, it’s fine.” Of course he was joking….. or was he…… Maybe.
He leaned into her face, licking his upper lip slowly so the tip of his tongue ran against her own mouth. “Maybe I want to torture you….. you’ve been torturing me for years with your beauty and your curves…… maybe I want to even the odds,” his voice was a dark grumble, tinted with want and a promise of a good time. He was torturing himself by holding back from her mouth, but what fun would it be for both of them if he gave in so easily?
“Uhm, shagging? Well, we might add a little of that one to our to-do-on-honeymoon list, you’ve got a point,” she flashed him a smile (or rather a grin). It was certainly a change from the heavy breathing, which had become her standard quite a while ago. Reason? Why, of course that it was the blue-eyed, dark-haired, pale-skinned sex god in front of her eyes.
“Unless we have too much of it at home and are fed up with it when-” her breath catched in her throat, when the tip of his tongue brushed her lips. Dear Merlin, really? Was he really going to keep them both from what they both desired so much? That was… admirable. And infuriating, of course! So much that a frustrated groan escaped the young woman’s lips.
Damn, these were different waters.. dangerous even. She had no control over his actions - that one, she learnt to live with years ago - but it seemed, that she had been losing control over herself and that one, she didn’t know how to cope with.
“If… I’m a…?” in that moment, she pushed her palms against his shoulders, in order to roll them around, so that he’d be lying under her. She was basically kneeling on the bed, her panties-covered butt partly resting on his hips, just above which he surely wanted her to rest on most. But no, Bells decided that she could do him the same favour with torturing. "You see, now, before I catch some kind of a disease - which, you have to admit, is a likely option, after all the… whatevers with whoever you’ve been through - we better enjoy the hell of our time.”
She smirked at him from high above, holding her hair back, for it not to get in the way.
She leaned down, to place her lips on his temple and her hands on his shoulders. She went down his cheek, planting butterfly kisses all the way down, to his jaw. Meanwhile, she had started unbuttoning the upper piece of his clothing, in order to get bloody rid of it already. She stopped for a few seconds, once her kisses reached his jaw, to lick her lips. Then, she went on to kiss the side of his neck. The set of kisses was wet, she often used her tongue and bit him even, twice, three or four times.
“Why, careful with such strong words as torture. They might get back on you, Mr Lestrange…” she hummed softly, against the smooth skin on his Adam’s Apple.
Bella decided against joining the celebration of a huge victory of the Death Eaters. She simply took a glass of champaigne and went upstairs, to her room. She had paid attention to catch an eye of her future husband, before she left the living room for good. Then, when she managed to climb the stairs, she kicked off her burgundy pumps. "Mind to help me with the dress?" She asked into the silence of the room, guessing Rod's presence.
Rod had been having a good time with his acquaintances, drinking and laughing with his fellow Death Eaters in celebration. The ability to let go after such a stressful mission was much needed and definitely appreciated. He was with Rosier, Malfoy, and a few others when a flash of black caught his eye, the vision of Bellatrix exiting the room after glancing his way and purposefully drawing his attention making him pause and excuse himself from the festivities. He kept his bottle of whiskey with him as he ascended to the bedroom she was in, closing and locking the door behind him. Not wanting to disrupt the stewing mood and the brewing sexual tension in the room, he quietly placed his bottle on the dresser by the door before stepping up behind his wife to be. “Of course, my dear,” he whispered, placing his lips right by her ear as he placed his hands on her waist before sliding them to her back, slowly undoing the clasps of her gown.
Rod bit his lip, scared to say or do the wrong thing and end the moment between them. The normally cold, closed off, almost heartless witch was showing him affection and actually touching him? He never wanted this moment to end, even if it wasn’t real.
His eyes gazed into hers as he contemplated her words, His own hand covering his on his heart. The warmth of her skin over his most important organ had him breathing deeply. She was so open right now. So vulnerable. He was not going to break her. He promised himself he wouldn’t.
“As soon as vows are made, I am yours and yours alone, forever and always, until death do us part.” Rod pulled her into his embrace, placing his hands on Bella’s back and keeping her against his chest. “Our marriage is going to be how we choose. I prefer not to spend it fighting and arguing for control and spend most every day and night just like this. Content. Happy. Blissful. Never pathetic, my love,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head before pushing her back slightly.
“Whatever you want from me, I’ll do my best to be it. But understand this. I can’t be what I’m not with you and I’m not always going to have the right words to say, the right things to do, but I’ll do my best and that’s all I can promise you.” He bent down slowly, placing his nose to hers and his lips just a breath away. “Now, can I kiss you, my darling, or must I wait for our wedding night for such romance?” he questioned with a smirk.
With the smile that grew on her face, she moved her hands up, to rest them against the sides of his neck, once he pulled her into an embrace. Her thumbs were softly caressing the skin under his ears, behind his jaw, as she lifted her head a little and purposefully brushed the tip of her nose against his.
It was quite a moment.. one they’ve never had before. Thus, it was easy to understand why Bellatrix decided she wouldn’t be the one to ruin it. Perhaps, she was mistaken, when she thought she had no chance to be happy in this marriage. Perhaps, the man of her life wasn’t a noseless murderer, but a very handsome one, with blue eyes and lips that she was soon about to taste.
When Rod pushed her back, she backed a step towards the bed.
“That sounds nice,” whispered the soon-to-be Mrs. Lestrange, moving her hands behind his neck, where she connected them and started rubbing the nape of his neck softly. “Although you’ve left out the part where we’re killing and torturing muggles, which, in my opinion, sounds like an amazing idea for our honeymoon, darling, don’t you think?”
She wasn’t going to give up on black humour, not even in romantic moments such as this one. A flaw, perhaps? Bel rather called it lifestyle.
“Well, it would be foolish of me to expect you to be perfect… nobody is. Except for me, of course,” she grinned, looking straight in his eyes with a look that was anything but cold, unamused or cruel. “What matters is, that if you accept me, with all of my many flaws that you know of, and another bunch of those you’ve not come across yet, then I accept you.”
Her voice was steady with determination, meaning she meant all she had just said. For once, she was sure of something and the something was this challenge - their marriage. No, Bellatrix stopped doubting it. With Rodolphus Lestrange by her side, she would find a way… they would find a way through the marriage together.
A laugh escaped her lips, when he asked her if he could kiss her. “Mhm,” she murmured in a would-be thoughtful tone of voice. “I’ll probably torture you, if you don’t kiss me, so…” leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air, Bel herself pulled him towards her slightly, pressing her lips against his.
Barty wrapped his arms around Ro's waist, burying his nose in her hair, close to her left ear, breathing in her intoxicating scent. "Good morning, darling," he murmured in a low, husky voice. "Did you sleep well?"
Ro laughed to herself, leaning her head back and resting her body against Barty’s. “ Morning, sunshine. I slept like the dead. Very peacefully, for the first time in a long time. What about you?” Ahe turned her head slightly to run her lips across his cheek, her hands pulling his to tighten his grip around her.
He chuckled, leaning down so that he could lean his chin on her shoulder for a moment. “Hmm, not as bad as back in London, I suppose,” he sighed, planting a kiss on her temple, before he pulled away slightly, only to pass to stand in front of her, instead of behind. “I have a proposal,” he mumbled, taking her hand and squeezing it in his. “What would you say about a nice, hot shower, before I go downstairs and make you a breakfast?”
Content washed over her as he leaned into her, her eyes closing as her lips curved into a smile. Roddy followed him with her eyes as he moved in front of her, her lips never faltering as her hand gently went to his. “I think that sounds like a perfect idea. As long as you’re in the shower with me, of course.” She stepped forward, stepping up on her toes to plant a kiss to the corner of her mouth before backing away and moving towards the bathroom, turning once to make sure she was being followed before stripping off her sleep clothes and waiting for Barty to join her.
“Well, darling, that’s the plan,” he smirked, watching her getting naked. He didn’t need anything else to get off the T-shirt and underwear he had had on until then. He laid his palms on her hips and gently pulled her closer, taking a moment to enjoy the view. “You’re simply gorgeous. I wonder what I’ve ever done to have a woman as smart, able and beautiful by my side.” Then, B leaned down to her and his lips ghosted over hers gently, teasingly. It was a soft foretaste of what was about to come behind the door of the bathroom. He slowly got off his briefs and reached for the tap, with a challenging, croaked smile on his face. “Hurry, or I’ll start alone.”
Bella decided against joining the celebration of a huge victory of the Death Eaters. She simply took a glass of champaigne and went upstairs, to her room. She had paid attention to catch an eye of her future husband, before she left the living room for good. Then, when she managed to climb the stairs, she kicked off her burgundy pumps. "Mind to help me with the dress?" She asked into the silence of the room, guessing Rod's presence.
Rod had been having a good time with his acquaintances, drinking and laughing with his fellow Death Eaters in celebration. The ability to let go after such a stressful mission was much needed and definitely appreciated. He was with Rosier, Malfoy, and a few others when a flash of black caught his eye, the vision of Bellatrix exiting the room after glancing his way and purposefully drawing his attention making him pause and excuse himself from the festivities. He kept his bottle of whiskey with him as he ascended to the bedroom she was in, closing and locking the door behind him. Not wanting to disrupt the stewing mood and the brewing sexual tension in the room, he quietly placed his bottle on the dresser by the door before stepping up behind his wife to be. “Of course, my dear,” he whispered, placing his lips right by her ear as he placed his hands on her waist before sliding them to her back, slowly undoing the clasps of her gown.
Bella stiffened, not being used to such an intimate contact, moreover with a man, notwithstanding for how long they had been bethroted. “Thank you,” she forced out, rather nervously. God in heaven, she was aware she should stop being nervous. They were about to get married. It was as sure a thing as the fact that her and Rod would kill and torture plenty of people in their promising career. Bel tilted her head to a side for a moment, in order to slide most of her hair from her back to the front, over her shoulder.
“You smell like whiskey!” She turned around quickly, only to meet his bare chest. Her hands travelled up cautiously, as she bit her lower lip, her eyes stitched to the skin on his torso. The truth was, that never in her life, had she had a naked man so close. “Can…” she breathed out quietly, her eyes climbing up to his own slowly. She had no idea whether he didn’t see her non-existant experience as a weakness. And she couldn’t say that she didn’t care… but…
“Can I… uhm…” she wanted to ask him if she could touch him, yet, at last, she decided against that. She swallowed hard, her palms finally touching his skin.
He could sense nervousness rolling off her in waves and it made him want to pause and back off. But she was to be his wife, dammit. If she wasn’t comfortable around him then what was their marriage going to consist of, awkward conversations and nights alone? No, he refused to allow that. Better get the awkward phase out of the way now.
He leaned in, his nose running against her hair to inhale her scent as he undid the back to her dress, doing his best to keep his hands decently on her back and not against her pale skin revealed with each fastening undone. No matter how desperately he wanted to.
He chuckled, looking down as she exclaimed. “Well yes. That’s what I’ve been drinking, would you rather I smell like cheap wine?” he murmured, keeping his voice low as he smirked down at her.
He could tell there was a question in her eyes as she regarded him, obviously wanting to touch him. Well, who was he to deny her? He grabbed her hands, keeping them on his skin, slowly nodding. “Anything you want from me, take it. I’m yours, after all.”
Her fingers caressed his chest, her touch light at first. Her nails trailed down his chest and later down his stomach, to the hem of his trousers. That was where she stopped and rather went back up. Bel slowly pushed his shirt away and down from his shoulders. She was enjoying this pretty much.
“Is it going to be like that with us all the time?” Her chocolate brown eyes travelled up to his, as a reaction to his words. “You belong to me, I belong to you, yet, we won’t be married even after we actually get married.” She paused for a second, realising that her words were rather confusing. “I mean, I know I have your body and you have mine, but… where is your soul? Are you truly here, with me, or are you somewhere else? Perhaps, with another woman?” One of her hands went down to his heart, while her voice was soft, wondering or curious, but not at all angry or menacing. Shortly, in the very moment , Bella acted very much unlike the Bellatrix Lestrange everyone knew.
The cruel bitch wouldn’t care about it. Instead, she’d just take what she wanted right on the spot. But she didn’t want for him to see her this way in this... intimate stuff. No, marriage was sacred. And Bella knew far too well how not to do it, based on her parents’ experience.
She wanted him to see how vulnerable she really was, under the layers of coldness and cruelty. She wished for him to see her thoughts for just a bit longer.
“Call me pathetic, if you wish,” she started quietly, her eyes travelling back up, to meet his. “But I want us to be honest. Do you think you can do that for me?”
Bella decided against joining the celebration of a huge victory of the Death Eaters. She simply took a glass of champaigne and went upstairs, to her room. She had paid attention to catch an eye of her future husband, before she left the living room for good. Then, when she managed to climb the stairs, she kicked off her burgundy pumps. "Mind to help me with the dress?" She asked into the silence of the room, guessing Rod's presence.
Rod had been having a good time with his acquaintances, drinking and laughing with his fellow Death Eaters in celebration. The ability to let go after such a stressful mission was much needed and definitely appreciated. He was with Rosier, Malfoy, and a few others when a flash of black caught his eye, the vision of Bellatrix exiting the room after glancing his way and purposefully drawing his attention making him pause and excuse himself from the festivities. He kept his bottle of whiskey with him as he ascended to the bedroom she was in, closing and locking the door behind him. Not wanting to disrupt the stewing mood and the brewing sexual tension in the room, he quietly placed his bottle on the dresser by the door before stepping up behind his wife to be. “Of course, my dear,” he whispered, placing his lips right by her ear as he placed his hands on her waist before sliding them to her back, slowly undoing the clasps of her gown.
Bella stiffened, not being used to such an intimate contact, moreover with a man, notwithstanding for how long they had been bethroted. “Thank you,” she forced out, rather nervously. God in heaven, she was aware she should stop being nervous. They were about to get married. It was as sure a thing as the fact that her and Rod would kill and torture plenty of people in their promising career. Bel tilted her head to a side for a moment, in order to slide most of her hair from her back to the front, over her shoulder.
“You smell like whiskey!” She turned around quickly, only to meet his bare chest. Her hands travelled up cautiously, as she bit her lower lip, her eyes stitched to the skin on his torso. The truth was, that never in her life, had she had a naked man so close. “Can…” she breathed out quietly, her eyes climbing up to his own slowly. She had no idea whether he didn’t see her non-existant experience as a weakness. And she couldn’t say that she didn’t care… but…
“Can I… uhm…” she wanted to ask him if she could touch him, yet, at last, she decided against that. She swallowed hard, her palms finally touching his skin.
[To: Ma Belle] I don’t like the insinuation that my mental health is anything less than stellar. I’m not crazy, like some. One of us has to be sane and it’s sure as hell not going to be you…..
[To: Cocktease] this time they’re going on you, I still have marks from your sick game. But yes, it was fun. I want you under me and begging this time.
[To: Rod, the Arrogant Dickhead] why, now I feel offended. Next time Voldy tortures you, I’ll be there with a camera.
[To: My Dearest Future Husband] begging… dk that word. Is it a curse or something?
[To: The Sissy Who Can’t Stand a Woman In Lead] well, good luck with trying.
[To: Rod, the Less Charming Brother] btw, your bro says hi. We’re on a mission together. Am starting to rethink my choice of siblings……. Rabastan’s a catch in fact, haven’t you noticed?
[To: The Man Who Should Care About Where His Future Wife Is Going] Who knows? It’s an ugly field somewhere in the North. Then again, whole North is ugly...
[To: The Master of Killing] ONLY IF I’M NOT QUICKER, HA!
[To: Rod, the Stabber] How on earth would that even be possible? You must have two daggers or swords which I don’t know of (I’ll focus on that issue later, imagine my threatening voice). Or you can have us stand behind each other. All those sound lovely (no sarcasm used). <3
[To: Rod, the Future Husband] I’m tired and this mission is pointless. I might just disapparate from here. Will you wait for me at home?
[To: Ma Belle] I don’t like the insinuation that my mental health is anything less than stellar. I’m not crazy, like some. One of us has to be sane and it’s sure as hell not going to be you…..
[To: Cocktease] this time they’re going on you, I still have marks from your sick game. But yes, it was fun. I want you under me and begging this time.
[To: Rod, the Arrogant Dickhead] why, now I feel offended. Next time Voldy tortures you, I’ll be there with a camera.
[To: My Dearest Future Husband] begging... dk that word. Is it a curse or something?
[To: The Sissy Who Can’t Stand a Woman In Lead] well, good luck with trying.
[To: Rod, the Less Charming Brother] btw, your bro says hi. We’re on a mission together. Am starting to rethink my choice of siblings....... Rabastan’s a catch in fact, haven’t you noticed?
[To: Rodolphus the Dork] are you srsly trying to suggest I am normally not nice?
[To: My Dearest Future Husband] my mental state is pretty perfect *goes and blows up a muggle village*
[To: Rodolphus the Object of My Glorious Revenge] Sirius Black……. ha! kidding! look at yourself in the mirror though, that expression is worth billions <3333
003. ❛ it’s not as magical as it sounds . ❜ - Barty
Roddy giggled, rolling her eyes. “Nice pun. Twat.” She knocked his shoulder lightly with hers before resting her head against it. She sighed gently before closing her eyes. “Seriously though. The entire world. It would be so much fun to see. Instead of being stuck here where it rains ninety percent of the time and is foggy the other ten percent. I want to explore away from home and Death eater stuff before I die. Just for a few years. While I’m still young, preferably.”
Barty arched an eyebrow at her gesture however, didn’t say anything. He simply wrapped an arm around her lower back and sneaked a palm under her shirt on her side, so that he could brush his thumb over the soft skin on her belly. “Well, I must say I like it here. Honestly, I’ve never thought about travelling… not in the long shot,” he admitted with a surprising honesty. “There are places I’d like to see though. The Pyramids, Taj Mahal, Forbidden City, Panama Canal,…”
The man leaned back a little, in order to look at her. Her dark hair reflected the light of the slowly setting sun and Barty had to fight pretty hard not to lean down and just kiss her, right there, right then. A crooked smile appeared on his lips. “I’d never say that you’re the type of person who’d just give up on her life purpose. I’m not judging, it’s just… I thought you were really into it, ya know? Really into Voldemort and his shit.”
[To: Rodolphus the Dork] are you srsly trying to suggest I am normally not nice?
[To: My Dearest Future Husband] my mental state is pretty perfect *goes and blows up a muggle village*
[To: Rodolphus the Object of My Glorious Revenge] Sirius Black……. ha! kidding! look at yourself in the mirror though, that expression is worth billions <3333
annaxmalina
