Harry Potter Ladies Novels & Stories

Roan King. The uncrowned king of Barnett University. He's like a freaking celebrity around here. It's totally ridiculous. People, by which I mean grown women, actually stalk him on the internet. And around campus. Apparently he's god's gift to both football and the ladies (I'm using that term loosely). All he has to do is smile and girls just fall right onto their backs before spreading their legs nice and wide. I've heard that he's already plowed his way through half the female population here at Barnett. I'm sure he'll work his way through the second half before he gets drafted to the NFL later this year. Yeah... I don't plan to be one of them. The guy is nothing more than a conceited player. You know the type—a steroid infused meathead jock coasting through college on his football prowess. Ugh. I have three words for you—avoid, avoid, avoid. Need I say more? I don't think so. I've had the sad misfortune of running into him on campus. Literally. As in—I literally slammed into him before spilling my iced coffee drink all over that wide rippling chest of his (did I just say that?). What I learned from the experience is that Roan King is one hell of a cocky son of a— Ok Unfortunately for me, Operation Avoid-Roan-King isn't going so well. Everywhere I go, there he is. If he wasn't so ridiculously hot, he would be a hell of a lot easier to forget. With his dark hair, shocking turquoise colored eyes and (damn him) buff body, he's easily the most gorgeous guy I've ever laid eyes on. Crap... see what I mean? Why do I suddenly have the bad feeling that Roan King is going to lead to my utter ruin and downfall?

"If I were you..." He began, his eyes suddenly having slits of fury burning within them. "I'd mind my thoughts and limit what I say." His voice dropped gravely low. My brows knitted in a frown. "Excuse me?" I asked, amused. "Are you threatening me??" I prodded further. Nicholas chortled, his voice reverberating through the walls of the room. "Call it whatever you want-I honestly don't give two fucks, but let me make it known to you, young lady..." He started and paused, and in a flick, his face became contorted with rage. "You're my possession now... You're at my mercy and I can fucking do anything I want to do to you right now, in case you don't realize that yet." He continued and I stared on, goosebumps breaking out on my forearm. "Who can save you from my clutches? Exactly what you're guessing... nobody, not even your boss, Megan!" ~>>>~ Nicholas Hills is one of the new names on the movie production scene. He is known as a Billionaire Playboy who had inherited his fortune from his Grandfather. Nicholas is naturally flirty, his good looks making him an automatic ladies' magnet, so he hides his vulnerability and prefers to give off the impression of being a careless playboy. Corvette Vincente, a 24-year-old Private Investigator is the best at what she does. Working for the ruthless gossip magazine "Splash a Star" which makes its profit from bringing out the skeleton in the closet of celebrity stars,Corvette is the best they have and her latest assignment is the Playboy Billionaire movie producer, Nicholas Hills. Getting him caught up in a scandal should be as easy as swatting a fly, but what happens when his charms and sensuality turn her into his scandal instead...? And she loves it! Every single bit!!

“You think you can tame an old daddy like me?” Mr. Domenico Lombardi’s stone-like voice makes me nervous, but I’m not backing down; I know what I want. “Yes,” I added a nod to confirm it but cursed internally at my luck. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and here I am trying to tame a man old enough to be my father. It is said that the apple does not fall far from the tree. I guess I am truly Kate’s daughter. I had an internal laugh at my stupidity. He scoffed, and I responded by nodding once more while watching the darkening of the silvery gray pupils in his eyes. How come? I brush it off as his cold eyes wash over me. Domenico Lombardi’s presence makes me squirm. When I’m around him, I get the impression that I’m being judged and ignored at every turn. “How old are you?” “18” “How old is your father?” “38,” I replied truthfully. “Well, I’m 37 years old.” He stared at me; his eyes darkened again, and I became terrified. I fiddle with my nails, clipping them together as I lean back on my heels to help relieve some of the anxiety he’s causing me. “You see, I’m like a father to you, or maybe a grandfather or a great-great-grandfather. How many boyfriends have you had in your life?” “None.” He chuckled as I responded. “You see, I’ve lost count of how many ladies I’ve fucked, thousands or millions, over the centuries. You are just a little girl to me with nothing to offer; now, get lost!” “My panties made you hard!” “You think so?” “Yes,” I responded confidently. “Well, I wasn’t hard; I just have a donkey-like cock.”

In the seventh year of my long-distance relationship, I quit my job behind my boyfriend, William Harrington's back and travel more than 600 miles to Frostmere. I do all that just so I can give him a nice surprise and get married to him. When the receptionist hears that I'm looking for William, she wears a bemused look. "Mr. Harrington is in the middle of a meeting. Please wait for a moment." I'm secretly surprised by her response. Willian has never told me about the fact that he got promoted. When I video-called him last week, he was even complaining to me how stressful work had been for him. Getting a promotion seemed like an impossible dream at this point. As soon as I turn around, I hear the receptionist whispering to her colleagues. "This must be Mr. Harrington's mistress, right?" "Wow… She really is bold to have found her way to the company like this." "Since Mr. Harrington is having an affair, doesn't this mean Mrs. Harrington will kick up a fuss when she finds out about it?" I want to turn around and tell the ladies that they've mistaken me for someone else. William isn't married yet, and I'm his actual girlfriend of ten years. But before I can open my mouth, the spinning door reveals a woman in a high-end attire walking into the company's lobby. The receptionists quickly shut their mouths. Then, they address the woman respectfully as "Mrs. Harrington". Alexandra Rowland is in the middle of a phone call. Her voice is sickly sweet as she speaks on the phone. "Darling, I've reached the lobby. Hurry up and pick me up! I don't care! You have to attend the prenatal check-up with me today!" A crystal-clear deep, masculine voice that carries a hint of doting drifts over Alexandra's phone speaker. "Got it, Lexi. The meeting will be over soon. You can wait for me in the lounge for the time being." I've listened to that voice for the past seven years, so I'm extremely familiar with it. That voice belongs to my boyfriend, William…