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pinkberrytea · 13 days

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Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion.

Memento mori—Remember you must die. Enveloped in memories of her death, the Vampire Ascendant watches his darling consort as she slumbers, lost in dreams of blood and mist. Life is short, and shortly it will end; death comes quickly and respects no one. To death we are hastening, let us refrain from sinning.

An exploration of Astarion's character and his relationship with his Dark Consort following the ascension, from a softer perspective.

Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav (F!Reader)

w/c: 6.2k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers

a/n: thank you for reading! this is my first time dabbling in creative writing, and of course my first attempt at smut fiction, but still, I hope it is at least somewhat enjoyable. I would like to dedicate this work to the lovely @locallegume, who was a huge source of inspiration, and also to hismostbelovedspawn over on reddit, for being always so incredibly kind and supportive. I love you guys!

tags: blood drinking; cunnilingus; body worship; light dom/sub; vaginal fingering; mildly dubious consent; creampie; fluff & angst; emotional sex; dry humping; possessive behavior

The beginning of the morning twilight is Astarion’s favorite time of the day, for it feels at once ephemeral and infinite. The wistful silence, broken only by the still timid chirping of the waking birds; the royal blue-colored sky, tinged with specks of the purples and violets of the dawn; the chilly morning breeze, gently rustling the flowers in the garden, pushing the still forming dewdrops off their petals and onto the ground; you, slumbering beside him, pale skin reflecting the dim light of the fading moon, rosy lips slightly parted. Sleeping peacefully like this, you look like a life-sized porcelain doll, he thinks—your unmoving chest betrays your otherwise healthy likeness, as does the unnaturally blanched color of your skin. Your nightgown hangs lazily off your shoulder, exposing one of your breasts, and your undergarments lay discarded on the floor, on the exact same spot where he had tossed them earlier that night. He adores this version of you—so vulnerable, so defenseless, laid open for him, and him only.

Astarion finds it curious, how you seem to completely lose yourself in your dreams, yet he is also greatly perturbed by the notion that there is a part of you that he is still unable to access, to dominate. It feels unnatural, not to be able to control this elusive slice of your essence, but having ever only tranced, it also mystifies him that you’d voluntarily give up your consciousness each night. You were after all ever the trusting fool—from the moment you met, he had lied to you, manipulated you countless times, and each time you fell for it, standing by his side even when the world screamed at you not to. And even now, you give yourself to him, unquestioningly, unconditionally. In all the long years of his existence, there had been none like you, and there never will be again. None as trusting, none as kind, and he both hates and loves you for it. The very notion of you extending your kindness to anyone other than him is infuriating, and makes him want to take it for himself, put it in a glass dome and hide it away in a place where only he can bask in its warmth. He thinks he is owed that, at least; yours was the only hand that ever reached out to him, so he is justified in not wanting to share.

You shift slightly in your sleep, and a lock of your hair that had been trapped underneath one of your arms falls onto your chest. After eyeing it for a moment, Astarion reaches out for the tresses and grasps them between his fingers. Bringing them close to his nose, he takes in your scent, that is now also his. It smells comforting, familiar—it smells like home. The corner of his lips curl into an almost imperceptible smile, and he closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. The hushed shroud of the early hours acts as a cloak, under which he is granted a brief respite, a rare chance to let himself be gentle, be kind. Just as you become entirely vulnerable before him in your slumber, he too exposes the soft underbelly of his feelings for you; that chaotic, intoxicating brew, a messy blend of passion, guilt, hurt, longing, and love, endless and unrelenting love.

He brings his elegant fingers close to your face, and ever so gently glides their soft pads across the cold, velvety smooth skin of your cheek. Your long lashes flutter slightly, tickling the sensitive area under your eyes as he lowers the digits to brush the plump of your lips. He admires you for a short moment, taking in your image—his pretty consort, so beautiful, so frail, so foolishly devoted to him. Oh how lucky he is, to have you who would do anything for him by his side; his most precious treasure, the reason why his long dead heart beats inside his chest once more. He grasps your chin, delicately tilting your head upward to face him, and tenderly presses his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your chest, fingers softly caressing the pebbled peak of your exposed breast, his touch so faint that his skin barely comes into contact with yours. As much as Astarion enjoys asserting his dominance over you, making you kneel before him, seeing the dejected yet submissive expression on your pretty face whenever he decides to make a show of his power, it is these moments he values the most. In your intimacy, he may treat you gently, tenderly, and in your state of unconsciousness, by morning his loving touches will be but a hazy memory, securing your place below, but close beside him, from where you shall never leave for as long as he draws breath—which he can now only do thanks to you.

His fingers on your nipple leave it alone for a moment to close around your breast, giving it a soft, gentle squeeze. Moving quietly so as not to wake you, he slides his right leg under yours and presses it against the back of your knee, creating a space between your thighs as he pushes them apart, where he then nests himself, climbing on top of you.

“Astarion…” when you softly whisper his name, his half-smile widens into a grin; how reassuring it is, to know you belong to him even in your dreams. He lowers his head to plant a kiss on the delicate skin of the curve of your neck, and his lips brush against the two small indentations disrupting the otherwise pristine smoothness of your flesh. Instinctively, he brings his hand to the back of your right shoulder, his long fingers blindly searching for the matching set of bite marks. The last of the three pairs adorns your left wrist, for which reason he will ever so often take your hand in his, only to lovingly kiss it and turn it around so he can admire the evidence of his proudest feat—having sired you.

“Oh my love, I’m here. I’ve got you,” Astarion coos, holding your head gently against his bare chest, fingers tangled in your hair as you writhe and squirm in his arms, empty and glassy eyes lost in a hollow stare, seeing nothing but darkness, endless darkness. The expression on your face is at once delirious and vacant—mouth agape and fists clenched, pupils blown wide, eyelashes wet with tears and a thin string of drool coming out from the corner of your lip and trickling down your chin. At least for tonight, you are lost to him, and as he winces at the still foreign sensation of the loud, vigorous throbbing in his head, your own fading heartbeat softens, dying down into nothingness. And right as it is about to fall perpetually silent, he lets his fangs pierce his own tongue, drawing droplets of now living blood; bringing your face close to his, he presses his thumb to your lower lip, and covers your mouth with his.

He loses himself in the memory for a moment, as he so often does. Your peaceful, serene expression stands in stark contrast to the one that had been etched on your face on that fateful night. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet still he remembers the pain, the agony, the relentless fear building up in his stomach as your body contorted and tears glistened in your vacant eyes. Never had Astarion been more afraid of anything than he’d been of losing you, and by his hand no less. Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion. You only ever questioned him about what had happened on the evening of your turning once, but it mattered not how many times you asked, for he would never fully disclose the raw truth—how he had cradled you in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in your ears, kissing away your tears; how he had picked you up as you lost consciousness and carried you to your bed, where he would then tuck you in so very tenderly, so very gently, softly patting your hair and holding your hand, sharing his warmth with you as you lost your own; how he would patiently wait by your side, watching as the color slowly drained from your face, his stomach sinking at the thought of you never waking again—only for you to then slowly open your eyes, their hue now a rich crimson, much like his own. No, he would never again allow himself to be so weak, for he was supposed to be your warden, your liege. This pathetic side of him was to be ever hidden from you, only rearing its ugly head during the brief, sleepy moments preceding the crack of dawn.

With his lips still pressed against your skin, Astarion starts peppering kisses down your neck, on the hollows of your collarbone and across your sternum, his hand on your breast fondling it gently, the other still tracing the bite marks on your shoulder. His still clothed hips start lazily, almost imperceptibly rocking back and forth, lightly grinding against your naked thighs; thinking back to the night when he made you his almost inevitably causes blood to rush to his groin, and his body starts unconsciously seeking the sweet relief of the friction between his hardening erection and your supple skin. He moves his hand on your breast to grasp your nipple between his fingers, lightly squeezing it. You involuntarily buck your hips in response, which amuses him greatly as he continues playing with the tender nub. A soft moan escapes your lips, encouraging and emboldening his attentions as they drift away from your clavicle towards your chest. He plants gentle kisses on the plump of your bosom, using his teeth to pull at your nightgown and drag it down, exposing your clothed breast to the chilly morning air. You shiver, and he smiles against your skin, pressing his lips to the valleys of your ribs, the softness of your lower belly, and finally to your bare crotch. With his face so close to your swollen sex, the sweet scent of your essence now intoxicates his senses. He stands back for a moment to admire how it glistens in the faint glow of the moonlight, so deliciously inviting, as your juices start building up and collecting in-between your folds.

Feeling his breath caressing the sensitive skin of your core, you finally start to slowly regain consciousness. Once his arousals were returned to him, Astarion would make a habit of waking up during the night at various times to bury his cock in you, so it takes you but a moment to gather your bearings. Either out of mischievousness or curiosity, you play coy at first, pretending to be asleep still. His soft lips briefly come into contact with your engorged bud, sending shock waves through your body, and you are barely able to keep yourself from letting out a yelp, although you can’t prevent your skin from becoming covered with goosebumps. When his tongue pokes out of his mouth to give it a tentative lick, you know you won’t be able to keep up the charade for much longer. He feels your body tense up, and slightly raises his head to look at you from his position between your legs with half-lidded, lascivious eyes, dilated pupils partially covering the ruby hue of his irises. You’re unsure if he has already caught on to your little ruse, so you try staying as still as possible, which proves difficult with his face so close to your cunt.

After what seems like an eternity he decides to continue, lapping at your clit again and then sliding his tongue downwards, burying it between your folds. He presses it against the outer edge of your entrance, squeezing slick out of you, and as he savors your essence, he can’t help but think that while its sweet tanginess does not compare to the coppery, velvety richness of the crimson in your veins—nothing ever will, for his is the blood that courses through them—it may well be the second best thing he has ever tasted. Gliding his tongue upwards once more, he uses it to gently massage the raw bundle of nerves atop your slit, leaving a trail of saliva mixed with your fluids between it and your twitching cunt, which then dribbles down onto your thighs. Placing a hand on each side of your hips, he pulls you closer to him, and the shift causes his fangs to graze the sensitive skin of your folds, in response to which your eyes water and you clutch the silk sheets under you both. Taking no notice of your desperate reaction, he continues swirling his tongue up and down your wetness, gently suckling on the tender skin, eagerly eating you up as if you were a full-course meal served especially for him, just begging to be ravished.

You feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen, and at this rate it won’t be long before you are brought to the edge. Momentarily forgetting the fact that you are supposed to be pretending to be asleep as you lose yourself in the crescendo of your release, you arch your back, leaning on your elbows to support your weight, and as soon as you do, he mercilessly pulls away from you, leaving your dripping core empty and aching. Eyes closed still, you let out a soft mewl in protest, which you regret as soon it leaves your lips, for once Astarion notices your desperation, you are done for.

Still unsure if he has already perceived your awakened state or if he believes your body to be involuntarily reacting to his touch, you dare not produce any further sounds. Having cruelly left your throbbing mound unattended, his tongue now glides its way up your stomach, leaving a glistening wet mess in its wake. Upon reaching your chest, his lips latch onto your left breast, your perked nub fitting perfectly inside his mouth. He sucks on it ever so tenderly, teasing it with a pointed tongue and lightly scraping the squishy surrounding flesh with his fangs. One of his hands leaves its place on your hip and finds its way between your legs, and you let out a sigh of relief when you feel a long, elegant finger ghosting over your clit. The other hand slides further down to the curve of your ass, and his blunt nails dig into your soft skin, giving it a firm squeeze.

The pad of the wandering digit finally presses down onto the engorged flesh of your reddened knot, massaging it leisurely in circular patterns, and another finger suddenly slides between your folds, parting them gently. Unable to contain yourself, you roll your hips into his hand, which you soon learn is a grave mistake as he tightens his grip on your ass, applying such pressure that come morning, bruises are certain to form on the pale skin, which he will then tenderly kiss better while looking apologetically at you from under thick lashes; and you will forgive him, as you always do. Lifting his head up from your now rouged, swollen nipple, he readjusts his position above you, using his body weight to pin you down and hold you in place. He lets go of your ass, firmly grasping at your jaw with his newly freed hand, and even from behind closed eyes you can feel the intensity of his gaze. This does not bode well, and try as you might you cannot ignore the sickening pinch in the pit of your stomach as his eyes scrutinize every inch of your face—has he noticed? Is a punishment in order? Will he deny you your release?

“Open up, darling. Your mouth.” The commanding tone with which Astarion vocalizes the otherwise unassuming words is all it takes to placate your erratic thoughts, and obeying is for you as natural as breathing—or it would be, if you were still alive. Once you do as he says, you feel his thumb pressing on your lower lip, forcing it further down. He slides the digit inside your mouth, gagging you slightly, and your lips instinctively close around it. “Good girl,” he purrs, and encouraged by the tenderness of his praise, you start lightly sucking on it, coating it with saliva. For a short moment, he becomes entranced by the feeling of your wet tongue massaging his skin, and his mind wanders to the thought of your plump lips wrapped tightly around his cock. This prompts him to once again start bucking his hips, rubbing the now obvious bulge underneath his pants against your stomach, but this time his rhythm is much more frantic, more desperate.

Relief washes over you as you feel the fingers still in your slit resume their fondling, the one on your clit now applying greater pressure, handling it much less gently, yet just as skillfully, his knowledge of all the ins and outs of your body having always been something he prided himself on. The other makes its way down from its place between your folds, plunging into you as soon as it reaches your entrance. Your body jerks in response, and your moan is muffled by his thumb in your mouth—when he then plunges another, stretching you open without giving you time to adjust, you involuntarily bite down on the digit gagging you, sinking your fangs into his flesh. He grimaces, and you can tell you have hit an artery, because the flow of the thick, hot blood running down your throat is alarmingly heavy. However, rather than pulling away, he lets you drink, curling his fingers inside you and massaging the tight walls of your cunt with his knuckles. The rich taste of his crimson lingering in your tongue and spreading inside your body, mixing with yours within your veins and making them pulsate with life—pure, raw, vibrating life—works as a powerful aphrodisiac, heightening all your senses, and the feeling of him fucking you with his fingers is all it takes for you to come undone on his hand, muscles spasming and clenching around the digits, coating them in the sweet nectar of your release.

Just as you reach your climax, Astarion’s own teeth sink into the indentations marking the otherwise smooth skin of your neck. You instinctively cock your head to the side to grant him more access, letting him feed on you as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, sucking on his thumb still. His blood flows from him to you and then back to him, and the sheer intimacy of it brings you so close together that it’s as if you have merged into one single being. You can no longer tell where you end and he begins, as your minds touch and mesh and then untangle again, in a sensual, chaotic dance, where you both sway to the rhythm of his heartbeat. And while the connection lasts, his emotions rush through you and yours through him, rendering words meaningless as the everlasting adoration, the inebriating, all-consuming love you share, no matter how tainted, is laid bare before you, in all its wickedness and allure.

“Fear not: you are mine.”

You finally open your eyes, letting go of his thumb, and as the fog from the afterglow subsides you notice his fingers remain inside you still, gliding effortlessly up and down your twitching walls, which are now lubricated with slick and come; your skin tingles from the overstimulation, but the sensation is not unwelcome. With the hand you have just freed, he holds your head in place while he continues to feed, and you both stay like this for a while, his fingers buried inside your cunt and his fangs in your neck, where they rightfully belong. His little grunts as he drinks from you and the feeling of his hardened cock pressed flush against your stomach rekindle the ache between your legs, causing the living blood now coursing through your veins to flow to your tender core.

Having drank to his heart’s content, Astarion pulls away from you, making you wince at the sudden emptiness as both his fangs and fingers leave your body. No longer plagued by the perpetual, agonizing hollowness of vampiric hunger, his only reason for feeding on you still is the invigorating thrill of your taste on his tongue and your blood pulsating in his arteries; you were his first, after all, having offered him the greatest gift of them all when you had no good reason to. Killing you on the evening he first revealed his true nature had never been out of the question, and it puzzles him still why you would willingly surrender this sanguine gift to a vampire stalking you in the night—a pitiful creature, hiding in the shadows, with murderous intent and offering you nothing but pain and misery. He is reminded of your foolishness and naïveté every time he sinks his fangs in your soft flesh, and the familiarity of it is oddly comforting to him.

Not bothering to wipe the red smear on his chin, he brings his hand up to your mouth once more, only this time his digits are covered in your juices. A single look into his crimson eyes, clouded with lust, tells you all you need to know, and you eagerly obey the silent order, wrapping your lips around his fingers.

“Ever so obedient, aren’t you, my sweet?” His honeyed words and impish smile send shivers down your spine, and unable to talk as your tongue flicks and swirls, lapping at your own sticky essence, you look up at him through your lashes with coquettish demureness; his pretty little spawn, always so good to him, so docile, so devoted. The very sight of you makes his cock twitch with desire. “I do find it charming when you play your darling little games. Mostly because you are awful at them. You did know I was aware the entire time, didn’t you?,” although his smile widens, there is a hint of danger in his voice, “That you were awake.”

As his blood within you rushes to your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears, Astarion’s expression darkens for a moment, and the lust in his eyes grows wilder, more desperate. There is something endlessly enticing about how bashful and girlish you look when your face is hot and flushed with his crimson, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, and it makes him want to devour you whole. He abruptly slides his fingers out of your mouth, and the glistening string of your fluids that forms between your lips and his digits breaks off as he uses that same hand to grab your neck and bring your face close to his. Once you are mere inches apart, he stops for a moment, locking eyes with you, and the proximity between you is such that you can feel his long lashes brushing against your skin and see the flecks in different shades of red swimming in his irises. The stillness in the air makes you acutely aware of the sound of his heartbeat, and it paradoxically both comforts and torments you. Such is the nature of your relationship; yearning and sorrow, worship and regret, lust and greed. The duality of it is not lost to you, but you’re past the point of coming up with justifications, for it is far too late for redemption. You made your choice, he made his, and now his burden is yours to bear. It matters not if outsiders looking in cannot make sense of it, as the bond between you was never meant to be understood by anyone else—however ugly and twisted it may be perceived by those around you, it is undeniably a bond of love, one you are willing to protect even if it costs you everything.

“Until the world falls down.”

When he finally closes the distance between you and crashes his mouth into yours, your mind is wiped clean of any semblance of coherent thought and your senses are filled with nothing but him—his scent, his warmth, his taste. He hungrily parts your lips with his tongue as soon as your skin touches his, your teeth clicking in his desperation, and his grip on your neck tightens. You feel tears well up in your eyes, some spilling through your lashes and rolling down your cheeks, your repressed emotions overflowing as you lose yourself in the fierce intensity of his kiss. You want him, you need him, you hate him; you love him, oh how dearly you love him, more than life itself. He explores the inside of your mouth, wantonly, passionately, only stopping to suck on your bottom lip, nipping it with his fangs and lapping at the droplets of blood blooming from the punctured flesh. Once he pulls away, gasping for air, you are both a disheveled mess, lips swollen and bruised and red. Not yet letting go of you, his fingers wrapped around your throat still, he guides your head back down, laying it on the soft feather pillow, only to then straighten up his torso, hand on your neck holding you in place and darkened eyes looking down upon you. From your position below him, he looks ethereal, almost godly, as the moon casts a pale halo around his frame, shining its light on the naked skin of his upper body.

He holds this position for a while, silently studying your face, and as he does, his intense gaze seems to gradually soften, mellowing out into almost tenderness. You feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin lessen, and then cease completely as he frees you, raising his hand up to cup your cheek. His thumb traces the trail of dried tears, and you lean into his soothing touch, eyes wettening once more. Taking notice of this, he leans back down and brushes his lips against the teardrops threatening to escape from your lashes, drying them before they fall.

“Shh, my darling, hush.” The softness in Astarion’s voice and the gentleness of his caresses as he runs his fingers through your hair are all you ever yearned for, all you ever needed, and yet with every touch your chest tightens and you feel a pang of loneliness and guilt tugging at your unbeating heart, for this is what you want, but not what you deserve. You have failed him, just as he has failed others, and your regrets bind you together for eternity as the thread of your fate entangles with his in a constricting embrace—so is it too greedy, to let yourself be selfish and indulge in his warmth before the sun rises? Is even someone as broken and wicked as you allowed a moment of reprieve, however brief? You know not the answer to these questions, nor do you think you ever will. All you know is that there’s nowhere else you want to be but in his arms, no matter how much it hurts, for you’ll endure the pain as long as you are by his side.

“Kiss me,” you quietly plead, your supplication barely a whisper, prompting him to pull away slightly to look into your eyes. He takes a moment to try and read your expression, his gaze sharp, inquisitive, stripping you off all your defenses and laying you bare before him. A short time passes, and without saying a word, he lowers his head down again, lips brushing against yours, their pillowy softness and the taste of your blood still lingering on his skin shrouding your mind in a white fog. You raise both of your arms and wrap them around his neck, bringing him closer as your mouth matches his movements, the desperation of before now manifesting more tenderly, more lovingly, but just as intensely. One of his hands remains on your cheek as he kisses you, and with the other, he finally unlaces his pants, freeing his neglected erection, which by now is slick from the precome leaking from its engorged head. The color of the sky outside slowly begins to brighten, now a beautiful blend of periwinkle and cyan, and as the twilight peaks and starts to reach its end, Astarion decides he has waited long enough—he will take you here and now, before the merciless, harsh light of the sun engulfs you both.

Feeling his hardness against your thigh, you readily comply, spreading your legs apart. You need this just as much as he does; to be one with him, carnally, for your souls have long merged, and there is no you without him just as there is no him without you. As he lines up with your entrance, his lips leave yours and he presses your foreheads together, staring into your eyes with reassuring tenderness. You feel the tip of his cockhead flush against your dripping sex—the reddened, puffed up skin feels warm, and thinking of how it is swollen from his blood in your veins is all it takes for him to finally snap and give into his desires. He slides inside of you in a single thrust, the wetness from your juices facilitating his entry as he stretches your walls to accommodate his large size. You try to bite back a whimper, your eyes once again tingling and prickling with the promise of tears as one of your hands finds its way to the back of his head and your fingers become entangled in his silvery curls. Not moving immediately, he waits a while, giving you time to adjust. You revel in the familiar feeling of his cock stuffed inside your core, the pain and warmth of it, and you wonder if he too can find comfort nowhere else but in your flesh, as it is only when filled with him that you are able to hold together the broken pieces of your descended mind.

The hand that had been cupping your cheek now rests on your waist as he moves his head to nuzzle the curve of your neck, taking in your scent. Ever so slowly he starts rolling his hips back and forth, planting gentle kisses on the delicate skin where his fangs had been buried just moments ago, now stained with patches of dried blood. You close your eyes, still trying to hold back the tears, hugging him as tightly as you can, or as tightly as he’ll let you. His pace is at first languid, sensual, allowing you to feel the entirety of him as he massages your aching, tender walls, still sensitive and spasming from your orgasm. He grunts in your ear, prompting you to start undulating your own hips, doing your best to match his rhythm. Emboldened by this, he moves his hands down to grab your ass, tilting your pelvis up and pulling you closer to him. Just as desperate to feel him as deeply as physically possible, you wrap your legs around his midriff, allowing him to reach the innermost parts of your throbbing cunt. When the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy skin of your cervix, your gut tightens and you cry out for him, unable to contain yourself.

“Astarion…”

The sound of his name in your lips, so very eager, so very sweet, is all the encouragement he needs, and the once languid movements give way to more vigorous pounding, the lewd sound of smacking flesh echoing in the otherwise quiet room as he snaps his hips and buries himself deeper inside your aching core. Your body rocks in rhythm with his thrusts, the tears in your eyes finally escaping your lashes and running down your face, a chaotic culmination of all the pleasure, all the hurt, all the desire and all the devotion brewing deep inside your heart as your raging feelings come to a boil. No one can understand, no one will understand—and yet, as he fucks you senseless in the early hours, pumping his cock in and out of you with lascivious abandon, none of it matters. You hold him even closer, pressing your squishy breasts flush against the sweaty, glistening skin of his chest. He moans at the sensation, intensifying his pace and using his hands on your ass to tilt your pelvis higher, pushing your folded legs, which are still wrapped around him, as close to your upper body as your flexibility will allow it. You feel the muscles in your thighs stretching and burning, but this only excites you further, and the soft whimpers leaving your lips escalate in frequency and loudness alike.

As he continues pounding into you, Astarion’s kisses on your neck become more passionate, more heated, going from pecks, to licking, to sucking, until eventually he gives in and once again sinks his fangs in the bruised flesh. You mewl faintly and your grip on his hair tightens, in response to which he bites down on you harder, nails raking across the skin of your ass as his thrusts grow fiercer, more violent. The message immediately gets through to you—the cheeky little spawn must know her place—so you obediently let go of his curls, although your digits remain entangled in them still; yet he does not slow down his pace, ramming into you with such force that you are afraid you will have trouble walking once he is finished. Be that as it may, one of his hands leaves its place on your ass to hover above your swollen clit, which twitches desperately as his cock resurfaces and then disappears again inside your cunt. He grasps it between two deft fingers, massaging the engorged bundle of nerves as a reward for your obedience, and that is all it takes for tension to again start building up in your groin.

“You have given me everything.”

His digits on your tender bud; your blood running down his throat; his cock slamming into you, stretching open your tight walls—you are so very close to climaxing again, and yet you don’t want the moment to end; you don’t want morning to come, breaking the spell and robbing your lover from you, as it always so cruelly does. The tragic inevitability of it is however unaffected by the infinitude of your existence, a gift that was also bequeathed to you by him, and enveloped by the ice-cold embrace of the memories of your death, your body comes alive as you are pushed over the edge, your twitching cunt fluttering and contracting around him, creaming and squirting your sweet juices all over his length.

As you slump back and go limp is his arms, Astarion unlatches his mouth from your neck and props up his torso to marvel at your image as you bask in the glory of your release—so maddeningly beautiful, cheeks and plump lips flushed bright pink with what remains of his lifeblood within you; his consort, his spawn, his to use as he pleases, his and nobody else’s. While he continues fucking you through your orgasm, all you can hear are his low moans and grunts and the squelching sounds of your wetness as he ruts into you with ever increasing furor. You can tell he is also close by the way he holds your hips with both of his hands, pushing his own against them with almost vicious ferocity while you remain slumped on the headboard, tits bouncing cutely with every thrust. The daylight seeping through the curtains now brightens up the room, and as you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, you notice how handsome he looks illuminated by the gentle glow of the rising sun, sweat beading his temple and dripping down his chin and nose.

“Gods…” he groans, voice raspy with lust, and with one final push he empties himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his seed, which feels thick and warm flooding your tender walls. Still panting and sucking in sharp breaths, he falls on top of you, not bothering to pull his cock out of your still spasming cunt, chest flush against yours and head burrowed in the crook of your neck. Spillover runs down your thighs and soaks into the wrinkled sheets, but neither of you bother cleaning it up, the resulting stain surely to give the maids good reason to blush later.

You bring a hand up to his silky curls once more, gently running your fingers through them as you feel the calming thumping of his slowing heartbeat vibrating against your cold skin. As the dawn finally breaks over the still sleeping city, signaling the beginning of a new day in your undead life—for better or for worse—you find comfort in the warmth of his flesh and the sound of his ragged breathing as it gradually steadies. All your suffering, all your pain; if even your death is required to bring him to life, then so be it. He will live for the both of you, and you will love him for it. Forever—for good.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

#personal #astarion x tav #bg3 #bg3 fic #ascended astarion #lord astarion #astarion #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #ascended astarion x reader #fic: death and his maiden #my fics

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mxqdii · 8 months

Note

Hi! Can you write something about how Mattheo or Theo would react to someone yelling and being really mean to y/n? It can be fluff or smut I will leave it to you❤️

what i was made for - m.s

pairings: mattheo riddle x reader

summary: mattheo comforting reader as she breaks down

warning(s): violence, comfort, mentions of killing curse, cursing, very sad ending (prepare yourself)

a/n: so originally, i was doing the request. but i ended up getting carried away with ideas.. and so if anybody wants me to make this a series i can !!

not proofread

it's been a really bad week.

everyone found out about my dad being a death eater, causing me to loose friends and people just viewing me differently

i get dirty look walking to class, whispering all around me, people gossiping and spreading lies.

it's hell

thankfully, i still have my friendgroup in slytherin, because at least they'll hear me out.

i also have my boyfriend mattheo

he's been nothing but sweet while everything has been chaos

he's helped me a lot, more then he'll ever know,

although, recently i've been more distant.

thing's have been getting harder, and i can't help but feel weak.

i don't want mattheo fighting all my battles for me, and also, it's just overall embarrassing

as i walk to potions, a group of girls stop in front of me.

i sigh, recognizing them instantly

they've been tormenting me this whole week

"what now" i say with a groan

"well, we just wanted to say we're sorry about what we said" one of the girls says and i keep my annoyed expression

"no you're not" i laugh

they all scoff and walk away, except one.

"go on now" i say, voice slightly raised.

"no, because you see.. they don't like you because of your dad, me on the other hand? i just don't like you." she says

i can't help but admit, her words caught me by surprise a bit.

"okay... why?" i say and she grins

"you don't remember me do you?"

i examine her face, trying to find the familiarity.

and then it hits me

"jasmine.." i mumble and she nods

jasmine was a girl in my class third year, she ended up leaving the school because of her ex.

"the look on your face? priceless. honestly, it was one of my reasons to come back" she says and i scoff

i see her tie her hair up

"you- you wanna fight me?!" i shout and she grins

"cmon, one way to settle this, you win? i'm gone, for good this time" she says nodding

next thing i know, jasmine is on the floor with a black eye and a broken nose.

i run back to the common room, getting stopped before i get there.

cormac.

"what happened? you finally get what you deserved?" he says, all his friends laughing

"fuck off" i say, trying to walk away

he grabs my wrist and i try to break out of his grasp but fail.

"let go of me!!" i shout, still trying to break free.

he abruptly lets go, making me fall.

him and his friends laugh and i stand up, tears filling my eyes.

i push him up against a wall, pointing my wand to his throat.

"you fucking mess with me again i'll avada kedavra your ass you understand?" i yell and he doesn't say anything, eyes widening

"do you understand??" i yell louder this time and he nods in fear

i loosen my grip, my wand now not being so pushed up against him, looking around i see all his friends looking at me terrified, looking the other direction i see mattheo.

i put my wand away, walking to my dorm, looking down the whole time.

closing my door, i break down completely.

i threatened someone with the killing curse

it hits me then suddenly,

i'm becoming just like my father.

i hear a knock on my door, not bothering to answer.

the door opens anyway, making me wipe my tears and any possible blood on my face

i'm met with mattheos soft gaze, the concern and worry in his eyes.

"get out!" i yell

"no" he says, walking closer to me

"mattheo.. GET OUT!!!" i shout

he's now inches away.

"get out, get out, get out." i say repeatedly, hitting his chest.

"let it out, it's okay" he mumbles softly

i eventually give up, just falling to my knees sobbing

he pulls me into a hug, stroking my hair.

after what feels like forever, but what was probably only a minute, i wipe my tears and sigh.

"sorry, i'm okay" i say sniffling

"stop telling me you're okay, you're not." he says and i look down in defeat.

"cmon" he says, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the bathroom

he grabs q-tips and hydrogen peroxide, cleaning the cuts on my face

the stinging doesn't phase me at this point, being too numb to really care.

"i'm becoming my father" i mumble and he stops his actions

"what? no you're not" he says and i scoff

"i threatened cormac with the killing curse mattheo, thats not something someone says in a civil conversation. i'd be surprised if i dont get expelled" i express

"i'll talk to mcgonagall about it okay?" he mumbles and i nod

after cleaning my wounds, we head into bed.

he wraps his arms around me, feeling overwhelmed by his warmth, i fall asleep.

i wake up in the middle of the night, gathering a sweater and my shoes.

i tiptoe out of my dorm to the astronomy tower.

i think about everything thats happened this past week

people finding out about my father, people hating me, threatning cormac.

it's that moment that a flip inside of me flips

a moment of clarity, realization.

i hear footsteps behind me, turning around and seeing the exact person i called for

"i'm ready" i say to him, walking closer.

in the end, all of this, it's all apart of the journey. because i am my father, and i couldn't come to terms with it before, but i am now, i can't deny destiny.

"you will be great, just as your father is." he says and i nod

"thank you, my lord" i say, looking at my wrist seeing the deatheater mark.

looking down at it, i smile, i feel complete.

i liked the power i had over cormac, the rush, the adrenaline. i liked fighting jasmine, that feeling of control.

about jasmine by the way, forgot to mention.. she was my ex. and she left because of me, she found out about my father and i told her to leave, and if she ever came back i'd have him kill her.

that was the start, where everything started going wrong.

i hear footsteps coming up the stairs, seeing mattheo.

"baby why'd you-" he starts speaking, but i notice his gaze shifting to my wrist

his eyes widen and fill with tears

"no... you didn't" he says in disbelief

"th-thats not fair.. i did what i was supposed to do..!" he shouts

i look at him in confusion

"i tried so hard, so hard. to make sure you never got the mark, i did everything, begged him not to" he explains

"mattheo, i did this, it was me."

the look on his face changes, changes to digust and shame.

"you wanted this?!?!" he shouts, tears falling down his face

"who.. who are you?" he cries, looking me up in down with that disgusted expression.

"mattheo.. think of how great we could be, we could be a team. do this together-" i start

"together? together?!?!" he yells

"you want me to- how long? how long have you been planning this?" he asks

"you don't want me to answer that mattheo." i say in honesty

"i hurt people mattheo, it's all i'm good at. i'm sorry you were the one to love me, when i told you not to, you should have listened" i added

"you were right, you are your father." he says in horror and i smile

"takes one to know one" i say, adding on a final goodbye,

"goodbye mattheo"

a/n: could make this into a potential series if anyone would want that, lmk!!

TAGLIST:

@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #harry potter #hogwarts #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fluff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #voldemort #lord voldemort #angst #sad ending #death eaters #dark mark #betrayal #madispeaks!

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highreevess · 2 years

Note

Omg I loved what u wrote about rafe but I'm currently in love with tom riddle again. Can you write a smut (or fluff whatever u like) about a popular!Hufflepuff reader (or whatever house u like) with tom trying to seduce her?

Of course! I'm going to write smut because, with Tom Riddle, fluff is pretty much nonexistent, but I will make the smut a bit softer than I usually would. Though Tom Riddle would never be sweet during honest sex, he would be if he was trying to seduce someone.

My Tutor

Warnings: Underage sex (Tom and reader are seventeen), seduction, manipulation, sub!reader unprotected sex.

Summary: Reader is at risk of failing her potions class, and she has to ace her next test in order to pass the class. She thinks that getting a perfect score on her next test is impossible, but when a certain dark-haired Slytherin offers his aid, she finds hope. What she doesn't know is that Tom Riddle is not helping her because he wants her to pass the class. He is helping her because he has been looking for an opportunity to seduce her for months. And when he finds it, he takes it.

Word count: 3,871

Sighing, I set down my graded essay and cross my arms over my chest.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" my classmate, Abraxas, asks.

"I failed," I sigh. I was studying for this potions essay for two weeks. I spent every night and day researching everything there is to know about potions, and yet I still failed.

"It's just one essay. You'll make it up," Abraxas says, dismissing my feelings about failing the paper as something unimportant.

"It's not just one essay," I tell him. "I'm barely passing potions. If I don't ace my next test, I'm going to fail the class." Though my grades are literally perfect in every other class, in this one, they are downright awful.

"I could always tutor you," a sudden voice says. Turning my head to the left, I see Tom Riddle standing above me, his hands clasped behind his back. Eyebrows furrowing, I ask, "Why would you offer?" Though I am quite liked throughout the school by most of the students and staff, there are still some people that do not like me. Tom Riddle is one of those people.

"You said you were at high risk of failing. If I tutor you, you will pass," he answers simply, as if I am stupid for asking my question.

For a moment, I think about denying his offer because I know how calculating and manipulative Tom Riddle can be when it suits him, but if I don't take him up on his offer, I am going to fail. Tom Riddle is top of the class, meaning there is no one better. If I want to pass, I need him.

"When can you tutor me?" I ask.

"Tonight," he answers, and my eyes widen. "Are you sure?" I ask. I hadn't expected him to offer to tutor me so soon.

"The test is in one week. If you wish to pass, we should start as soon as possible," he tells me.

I glance back at Abraxas, who just shrugs his shoulders and silently encourages me to take Tom Riddle up on his offer.

Swallowing, I look back at Tom Riddle. "Okay. Where?"

"The room of requirement after hours. Eleven to be precise," he answers before turning around and walking away. He heads toward the back of the library before disappearing behind a tall bookshelf.

I turn back to Abraxas and admit, "I don't know how I feel about being alone with him after hours."

"He's not going to hurt you," Abraxas assures, but even he knows that isn't something he can promise. Though I have never personally seen Tom Riddle cause harm to someone, I hear the rumors murmured throughout the school. I hear the rumors of him terrifying first-years and casting the imperius curse on sixth-years. I hear the rumors of him casting the cruciatus curse on those who have failed the tasks he has given them.

He has never been caught, but he has turned seventeen. That means the trace is no longer on him. The only way to prove that he used one of the unforgivable curses is to have a witness, and there are never witnesses.

"If his intentions were honest, he wouldn't want to meet alone after hours," I mumble, looking down at my potions essay.

"He can't kill you in the school, Y/N. You're worrying for nothing," Abraxas says, dismissing my thoughts.

"Am I?" I retort, meeting the fair-haired wizard's gaze.

He ignores my concerns yet again because he knows they are valid. Instead of arguing with me, he just says, "Do you have a choice?"

At his words, my gaze travels down to my potions essay, which is marked in dozens of places in bright red ink.

Swallowing, I answer, "No."

*****************************************************

Making my way down the large hallways of the school, I quickly head toward the room of requirement. It is just before eleven at night, but professors and other staff are often awake at this time. It's risky for me to leave my common room after hours.

But as Abraxas reminded me earlier today in the library, I do not have a choice.

When I come across a small corridor with a spiral staircase made of stone, I take it, heading upward until I get to the seventh floor of the large castle.

Once I step off of the staircase, I make my way to the corridor on the floor on the left. Once there, I make my way forward until I come across a wall made of stone with nothing on it.

I stand in front of the wall for a few moments, and eventually, a wooden door appears in front of me. I swallow and intake a deep breath before walking forward and opening the door.

I make my way into the room of requirement and see Tom Riddle standing just a few feet away from me, his hands clasped promptly behind his back. To the right of him is a rectangular table with two chairs on opposite sides. To the left of him is a large fireplace made of gray stone. Within the stone fireplace are a few green logs, crackling because of the green fire burning them.

"You came," he announces, his eyes narrowed as if he did not expect me to.

"I didn't really have a choice," I admit.

"We all have a choice."

His words cause my mouth to gape slightly because I don't know what to say to that.

Clearing my throat, I ask, "Shall we start?"

He nods and glances at the table he stands next to.

Taking the hint, I walk over to the table and pull out the chair on my side before taking a seat in it. He, however, does not do the same. Instead, he continues standing next to me, not even a foot away. "I have reviewed your most recent essay. You struggle most with the fundamental elements of each ingredient within a potion. You struggle with explaining how these ingredients make a certain potion when mixed together."

He takes a step closer to me, and I find myself swallowing at the action. He stands only two inches away from me—close enough for me to smell his cologne, close enough for me to feel his shadows.

"We shall work on that first," he says, and I give a curt nod.

His hand reaches out, and he grabs a piece of parchment with neat notes written on it in the finest of cursive—no doubt written by Tom himself. He wouldn't settle for notes written by anyone other than himself.

"I'm going to ask a series of questions. You are going to answer them," he says, leaving little room for argument.

"What is Aconite used for?" he asks.

"It's used in the Wolfsbane Potion and Wideye Potion," I answer.

"That's not what I asked."

"Yes, it was," I argue.

"I asked what it is used for, not what it is used in," he tells me, and I roll my eyes.

"What's the difference?"

"This is what I mean," he tells me, "you're misunderstanding the questions asked on tests and misunderstanding the prompts on essays. You know the material. You are just misunderstanding what is asked of you."

"Then, how do I fix that?" I ask.

"First, I want you to try to answer these questions," he says, grabbing a piece of parchment from the stack of papers on the table I'm sitting at. He brings it in front of me and says, "Read the questions and answer them. Really read them. Now that you know what your problem is, you may be able to fix it without my help. Give it a try."

Though I don't think I will be able to do what he thinks I can, I nod my head and turn my attention to the paper in front of me. On it is a series of hand-written questions written in the darkest of ink.

I look for a quill on the table, but when I don't find one, I turn to Tom. I see him holding a quill and an inkpot. He hands the quill to me and sets the golden pot of ink down on the table, a few inches away from my paper.

I mumble words of thanks before dipping the quill he gave me into the ink pot and casting my gaze on the paper in front of me once more.

I begin to read over the questions and prompts on the paper, double and triple-checking the questions before bringing the end of the quill to the paper and writing down an answer. I then check the questions again and my answers again before moving on to the next one.

Tom, though silent and uninterrupting, stands right next to me, distracting me even though he does not mean to. He watches me as I answer the questions he has written down, his blue eyes narrowed in observance.

After about ten minutes of answering the questions on Tom Riddle's "quiz," I feel Tom Riddle shift. He moves so that he stands behind me instead of next to me before leaning over.

Turning his head so that his mouth is close to my ear, he whispers, "Reread number seven." The coolness of his breath against my skin causes goosebumps to break out all over my body, but I try my best to ignore them. I give him a curt nod before redirecting my gaze to the seventh question on the parchment. I reread it and see that I misread the question when I answered it a minute ago.

I dip my quill back into the inkpot before crossing out my written answer and writing a new one. Once I do, I set my quill down and wait for Tom Riddle to either tell me to try again or tell me that I got it right.

"Very good," he whispers into my ear, his deep voice causing my body to wrack with a small shiver.

He seems to notice this because he tilts his head and says, "Am I making you nervous?"

I swallow and shake my head, scared that my voice will betray me if I choose to give him a verbal answer.

I see Tom Riddle's eyes narrow out of the corner of my eye.

Tom Riddle moves his hand toward the table and gently grabs my hand, his index and middle fingers gently pressing into the underside of my wrist. "Then why is your heart racing?" he asks, and my eyes widen when I realize he has hold of my wrist to check my pulse.

He leans closer, and his eyes drop down to my chest, which is only covered by a thin, yellow top. "Why are you breathing so heavily?"

Swallowing, I try my best to scoot away from him, but with one of his hands gripping the back of my chair, it's impossible.

"There's no need to move away, Y/N," he says, letting go of my wrist. His now unoccupied hand goes to my hair. He tucks a lock of it behind my ear, and a small breath escapes my lips.

Leaning in, he whispers lowly into my ear, "There's no need to ignore what you want."

My body wracks with yet another shiver, and I mentally curse myself for it.

"Tom, we should be studying—"

"Is that really how you want to spend your time with me?" he asks, cutting me off. "Do you really want to spend your time with me learning potion formulas instead of allowing me to give you the pleasure you seek?"

A small gasp escapes my lips at his words, and the corner of his lips kicks up. Holding my gaze, he moves his hand. He moves it downward until it hovers just above my breasts. He lets it hover there for a moment before grabbing the top button of my yellow top and undoing it.

When I make no move to stop him or push him away, he undoes the second button, then the third, and the fourth.

Only when he gets to the last button of my top do I realize what he is doing. I quickly shove myself away from him and stand up from my chair. "We can't," I tell him, intaking deep breaths because I wasn't breathing at all a moment ago.

"Why not?" he asks, tilting his head.

Swallowing, I shake my head again and avoid answering his question. My cheeks are inflamed with heat, and I'm afraid that if I answer him, I will either give him an answer that he knows is a lie or an answer that is the truth, which is the very last thing I want.

Tom Riddle takes a step forward. "Are you afraid I'm going to hurt you?" Though I would love to say yes, I can't because I know that it would be a lie.

And he would know it too.

So, I shake my head.

"Then what are you afraid of?" he asks, taking another step forward. He stands only half a foot away from me now, and it makes me take a step backward.

"I'm not afraid," I assure. "I'm simply not interested."

His head tilts, and he takes another step forward. And then another. He keeps moving closer to me until he backs me up against the stone wall behind me. Once he has, he brings his hand up to my face and thumbs my bottom lip. "Give me a real answer, and I'll leave you alone."

After a few moments of silence, his gaze drops from my eyes to my lips. He begins to stroke my bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes fixed on the movement.

Suddenly, he parts my mouth and sticks his thumb inside. My lips close around his finger on instinct, and he notices this with a smirk. "You can lie to yourself all you want," he tells me, tucking another lock of hair behind my ear with his free hand, "but you can't lie to me."

He removes his thumb from my mouth before surging forward, pressing his lips to mine. My eyes widen at the action, but all it takes is the sweep of his tongue against my lips for me to lean into the kiss. My eyes flutter closed, and I return the kiss.

Tom's large hands go to my top, and he undoes the very last button before pulling the top off of me, leaving me in only a black corset. Breaking the kiss, he grabs my shoulders and turns me around. He gently pushes my front against the cold wall in front of me before grabbing the laces of my corset. He quickly unties the corset while leaving kisses on my shoulders and neck.

Once he peels the corset from my body, he turns me around so that I am facing him.

My torso and breasts are hit by the coldness of the air, and a small gasp escapes my lips. I quickly cover my breasts with my hands, but he pulls my hands away and says, "Don't you dare."

"Tom—"

My words are cut off when he grabs my arm and spins both of us around. He then grabs my waist in his large hands and lifts me up. He sets me down on a cold, hard surface, and I don't realize that I am on top of a table until I look down and see the wood.

When I look back at Tom Riddle, I do not find him standing in front of me anymore.

I find him on his knees.

"Has someone given you an orgasm before?" he asks, and my mouth parts in a gasp.

"I'll take that as a no," he says, grabbing my thighs with his cold hands. He gently spreads them before saying, "Lift your hips for me, little witch."

I obey on instinct, and he grabs the end of my Hufflepuff uniform skirt before pulling it down until it reaches my ankles. He then pulls it off and tosses it somewhere in the room.

Though the frigid air around me makes me try to close my thighs, Tom Riddle makes it impossible. He keeps my thighs open with his powerful hands.

"Have you ever been with someone before?" he asks, and I swallow before nodding in answer. "One," I whisper.

"And he didn't make you cum?" he asks, and I swallow before shaking my head.

"Pity," he says, teasing my clothed pussy with his index finger. "A beautiful witch such as yourself shouldn't be left unsatisfied." My cheeks heat at his words, and he notices this with a widening of his smirk.

"Tell me, have you ever touched yourself?" he asks, and I nod.

"And did you cum?" he asks. I hesitate for a moment before shaking my head.

Narrowing his eyes, he asks, "Have you ever had an orgasm?"

My cheeks heat yet again, but this time it isn't because of lust; it's because of embarrassment.

"There's nothing to be ashamed about, Y/N," he tells me, moving my panties to the side so that my pussy is exposed to him. He trails his index finger up my slit until it brushes over my clit, and my hips involuntarily buck against him.

Leaning in, he blows on my exposed clit, and a breath of air passes my lips. "Tom," I beg, but I don't know what for.

"Do you want me to touch you?" he asks, and I nod. Though I know that I shouldn't be doing this with him, the need to have him touch me overpowers all the warning bells going off in my mind.

"I need words, Y/N."

"Touch me please," I beg, and he obliges immediately. He presses his index finger against my clit and begins rubbing tight circles into it. "You have all of these stressful things weighing on you and no way to relax," he says, teasing my entrance with his middle finger. "Such a pity," he tells me, sliding his middle finger inside of me.

"Tom," I breathe, bucking my hips against him. "More." I don't want to rush him or boss him around, but I need more. I need him to make me cum.

"Such a greedy little thing," he chides, removing his finger from me. My eyes widen at the loss, and I open my mouth to tell him to touch me again, but he shushes me by speaking first. "I'll give you what you want, Y/N. Don't worry."

I watch him as he undoes his belt and tosses it to the floor beneath him. The metal of his buckle hits the stone floor with a loud noise that causes me to flinch slightly.

He seems to notice my flinch because he says, "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you." Leaning forward, he presses another kiss on my lips, which I return in less than a millisecond.

My hands go to his slacks, which I quickly unzip. He steps out of them before pushing me down onto the table so that I am lying on it. "Hold on to me," he tells me, and my eyebrows furrow in confusion. Seeing my confusion, he says, "Trust me. You'll want to hold on."

Though I do not understand why he is telling me to hold on to him, I obey and grab onto his large arms.

That's when I feel it.

Something hard touches my core, and I look up at Tom's face when I realize that it is his cock. "Tom—"

"Trust me, little witch," he breathes, pushing the head of his cock into me. I gasp when I feel how thick it is, and my nails involuntarily dig into the flesh of his large arms.

"Shh," he says, bringing his hand up to my face. He strokes my cheek with his thumb as he gently continues to push inside of me. "It will feel good in a moment. Just hold on."

Though the sheer size of him pains me, his words cause me to nod my head and close my eyes tightly as I wait for the pain to subside.

Slowly and gently, he works his way inside of me, stroking my cheek and whispering words of encouragement as he does. Once he finally bottoms out, he whispers, "Are you okay?"

Though I am still in some pain, I nod my head, and he begins to slowly move.

I keep my hands on his biceps so I can hold onto him, and he seems to notice because he moves one of his arms so he can reach between my legs. He moves his fingers until he finds my clit, and once he does, he begins to rub tight circles into it.

The feeling of him rubbing tight circles into my clit causes me to relax around him, and I find myself allowing my eyes to flutter closed, in pleasure this time; not pain.

Wiggling my hips, I try to get him to rub my clit faster, but he doesn't. He rubs slow, tight circles into me, and it makes me whine in frustration.

I see him tilt his head, a wicked smirk forming on his pale face. "Tell me what you want," he says, continuing to circle my clit and fuck me at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Faster," I breathe, hoping he will understand what I mean.

He does.

He circles my clit faster and begins to gently pick up the pace of his thrusts.

Though I have touched myself before and have been touched by others, it has never felt like this. His touches are so skilled, and it makes me whine in pleasure.

I feel something coiling low in my stomach, and my eyes widen. "Tom," I say, my voice shaky. "Tom, I feel something weird—"

"Shh," he says. "Don't fight it. Just let go."

"Tom—"

"Trust me," he says as he continues rubbing my clit and thrusting into me.

The feeling in my lower stomach intensifies as he continues fucking me, and eventually, I am hit with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure. My eyes flutter closed, and my mouth parts in a quiet moan as pleasure takes me. "Oh, God," I whimper.

Tom Riddle's thrusts begin to quicken, and my eyes open when I feel it. I look up at Tom Riddle and see him with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

He begins to fuck me at a hard, fast pace, and though I am very sensitive because of the orgasm I just had, I don't object to his roughness. Instead, I watch as a rapture of pleasure overtakes his features.

I feel him pull out of me, and a second later, I feel something squirt onto my stomach.

When his eyes open, he looks down at me. "You're never going to be satisfied by someone else again."

He gets off of me before helping me off of the table. He then grabs my skirt and allows me to step into it. He pulls it up before grabbing the rest of my clothes and helping me dress. Once I'm fully dressed, he puts his clothes on as well.

"You need more tutoring. Meet me here again tomorrow night."

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rreeaahh · 9 months

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O N E W A Y T I C K E T | R. A. B.

Pairing: Regulus Black x reader (slytherin, pureblood)

Tropes: academic rivals; enemies to friends to lovers; fake dating; she fell first, but he fell harder; marriage of convenience

Warnings: angst; possible smut; slow-burn; family problems; smoking; drinking; mature language; (that's all i can think of right now)

It’s always “Y/N is such a good child, making her father so proud by being at the top of all your classes! When will you do the same, Regulus?”, or “I can’t imagine a greater pride than having a son like the young Black boy – Orion is lucky to have at least one reason to be proud, while I have one big disappointment!”, but never outside of the closed doors of the manors. At the gatherings of the pureblood society, both the Black and the Lestrange families are the proudest parents.

Forced to like each other in public, the two young wizards hide their mutual hate. They bottle it deep inside their angsty hearts and only set it free during their academic activity, because that seems to be the only accepted form of rivalry between them.

But when you’re trying so much to pretend that you like your enemy, you’re shocked to find that he’s the only one who might understand what you’re going through – because he’s just as scared and furious as you are.

And maybe, you're not only two people who hate each other, but also each other's ticket to freedom.

Chapter 1 - Lies Chapter 2 - Green eyes VS green badge Chapter 3 - We are both filthy now

#regulus x reader #slytherin #angst #hogwarts #regulus black #smut #x reader #slyhterin!reader #the black family #black brothers #death eaters #the dark mark #the dark lord #enemies to friends to lovers #academic rivals #she fell first he fell harder

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lenoraslament · 2 months

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Masterlist

Hello! Welcome to the masterlist for my three part Tom Riddle Fanfiction. All three parts are on my Wattpad

One shots are at the bottom

* indicates smut

^ indicates romance

+ indicates dark themes/angst

Lenora was cold, smart and cunning. Until. Until that night. Two mudbloods stole something from her, a piece of her she couldn't get back. She finds solace and healing in the unlikely ally of her longtime acquaintance Tom Riddle.

Wattpad Link

Chapter 9 Excerpt: Insolence +

Chapter 12 excerpt: Moment in the Library ^

Chapter 16 excerpt: Apparating ^

Chapter 20: Pleasure *^

Chapter 23 Excerpt: Malfoy Ball ^

Chapter 28 Excerpt: Good Girl ^ (*in the Wattpad chapter)

Chapters 33&34: Revenge and Satisfaction *^+

Chapter 35: Aftermath ^*

Chapter 36: Make Me Forget *

Chapter 38: Punish Me *+

Book 2 Lenora’s Love:

Lenora was Tom Riddles everything. Until he had to Obliviate her memory. Now they are brought together for the summer, as he continues to build his dark legacy the death eaters. Their love is inevitable; even with Cygnus Black trying to intervene. Will the truth out?

This book whole chapters cross posted to Tumblr but if you want to read on Wattpad

Part 1 Summary / Say Yes to Heaven ^

Lenora arrives at the Malfoy Lakehouse and leaves Tom breathless

The Rose Garden ^

Tom watches Lenora from afar much to the chagrin of Abraxas

Why Not Tom Riddle

Lenora wonders about the change in Tom Riddle not realizing she was obliviated

Hard to Resist^

Cygnus grows closer to Lenora

Firestarter +

Lenora accidentally reminds everyone just how powerful she is

Worth It +

Tom and Cygnus duel, Abraxas confronts Lenora

Flawless ^

Tom continues to confuse Lenora, Delia appears for the first time since the Malfoy Christmas Ball

Strumpets *^

Lenora catches Tom doing something unsavory, she pushes to be a deatheater

Overprotective

Lenora tries her best to be respectful and discovers something useful

Lust Potion *^

Delia gets revenge on Lenora, Tom tries his best to resist Lenora

Despair +

After being humiliated by Delia, Lenora wants to prove herself as a deatheater no matter the cost

I Love You ^+

Tom nearly loses Lenora for good.

Pain is a Price +

The long term repercussions of Lenora’s potion are discovered

High and Mighty

Tom proves his leadership while being absolutely faded.

Flowers for a Lady ^

Lenora is made a deatheater but isn’t sure what to make of this new side of Tom.

Dowries and Dark Marks +^

Tom tries to figure out how to get Cygnus Black out of his hair as they both chase after Lenora

Pillow Fight +^

Cygnus Black wishes Lenora goodbye, making her lash out at Tom Riddle

Tawdry ^

Lenora forgives Tom and then is forced to play the temptress

Make Me ^

Tension finally comes to a head between Tom and Lenora at the lake

Cozy^

They simply can’t stay away from eachother.

Crash Into Me^

Tom and Lenora continue to push and pull, Abraxas catches them

Tom Riddle the Romantic ^

Tom Riddle goes way out of comfort zone

A Proper Date ^

Tom and Lenora finally have a real date

Anchored*

Lenora wants more from Tom than his horcrux

How it Always Should Have Been*^

Tom and Lenora make love

Time Doesn’t Bow^

A snapshot into 6 months of bliss as Tom and Lenora stay together

Lying *

Cygnus Black returns, Lenora catches Tom in a lie

Disillusionment +

Lenora learns the truth of everything that happened before Tom obliviated her

I Lost You+

Tom’s proposal goes awry, Lenora gets revenge

I Hate You+

Lenora broke Tom’s heart but he gets the last word.

One shots

Tom Riddle

Hot Mess Part 1

Hot Mess Part 2 *

Infatuated

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nebbyy · 30 days

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Hello everyone, new writer here!!

I have some writing ideas in mind but I thought it'd be wiser to start off by writing what you guys want to read first then I might elaborate the projects I already have in mind.

GENERAL INFOS:

Except for headcanons, most of my fics will be inspired by paintings and songs, which I will put either as a pic or link to the song into the post :))

English isn't my first language so please be kind with me if I make any mistakes (which will happen for sure)

I probably won't write for a male!reader, not because I'm against the idea but simply because I've never done it before and I fear it wouldn't come out as good as with a female or non-binary reader. That being said, I still might try it out in the future if it's something that many of you want

Keep in mind that I'm still studying so I might not be always able to post the same day someone sends a request, but I'll try to write my fics in no more than 3 days after the commission

If any fic I write contains spoilers from the book/series/movie THERE WILL BE A WARNING so that I don't ruin anything to anyone🤗

FANDOMS I WRITE FOR:

The Arcana

Kingdom of Heaven

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Heroes of Olympus

Trials of Apollo

Attack on Titan

Death Note

Avatar the Last Airbender

Lord of the Rings

Avatar (the one with hot blue aliens)

If you want fics from other fandoms you can still ask me and I'll do some research on it so that I can make something, but it will take more time ofc

THINGS I WON'T DO (smut related):

Anything revolving a lack of consent, so no noncon, dubcon, cnc,...

Pedophilia and zoophilia (ew)

Any naughty actions related to any sort of bodily discharge (period excluded)

Any butt stuff related activities, no shame in who likes it at all but it's something that I just don't like personally and wouldn't be comfortable writing

NO INCEST (stepcest is on thin ice)

I think that is all you guys need to know for now, once I'll get enough fics done I'll add the masterlist in this post too so you guys can see if my writing is of your liking.

Byeeee hope I'll see you in the requests!!!!

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 9 months

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#giving up on reality for a bit #give me fantasy or give me death #ok not really #but damn #demon slayer #jjk #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #kny sanemi #sanemi shinaguzawa #lord tengen #master tengen #giyu tomioka #kny smut #mitsuri kanroji #all of them #give me all of it

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tempt-ress · 6 months

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Hello please.

We need more Rory Culkin writes.

Im talking. Multiple parts.sweet.fluff.angst.smut.

Clyde/ euro/ possum/Jake/ kappa bloody any Rory at this point pleaseeeee

Where are the talented besties. We NEED you

#rory culkin smut #welcome to willits #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin #scream 4 #euronymous #charlie walker #billy hargrove x female reader #billy x reader #aemond x y/n #lords of chaos #euro #euroynomes #death #pelle #fury

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yeonhwrts · 1 year

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Hello, how are you? Can I request something?🥹How Yeonjun would react and be with a very shy type of girl? Maybe someone not only inexperienced but very timid and blushy? Someone who would feel intimidated and overwhelmed easily by him and sexual interactions even tho she loves him so? Thank you If you would read me.

Yeonjun , has the biggest corruption kink ever in the entirity of TXT and no one is allowed to disagree on that . It is very apparent let's be honest . He would literally get an ego boost , hearing that he is your first and literally eats up the fact that you go beet red at anything remotely intimate . But it's a well known fact that yeonjun is such a gentleman , he will never ever ever never make you feel lightly uncomfortable . At times if he gets too carried on , he will try his hardest to compose himself and asking you if you feel comfortable with how things are going before continuing further . It turns him on so much that he can make you feel so shy for him and he will be the one to break your goof girl persona and make you HIS but will at no cost say it outside . It is just one of his perverted secrets , he wants you to gag on his cock , seeing you all teary-eyed and flushed cheeks , all because you cannot take his huge fat cock down your throat . Most likely would cum on your face and keep pictures of it , because he finally ruined your cute face , didn't he ??

#choi yeonjun with a corruption kink will be the death of me #yeonjun is so hot lord have mercy #[ 🍙 ] mailbox #txt smut #txt hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun can absolutely ruin me

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stitched-mouth · 8 months

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The Nun has officially been added to my Kinktober Masterlist. I’ll probably add Ellie Bixler from Evil Dead Rises as well at some point. Let me know how you feel about these additions please.

And Day 5 and 8 is done! Layla El Faouly has a praise and Mommy kink and Lord Death masterbates to his secretary (and eventually does get to fuck her too don’t worry :) ). I don’t know why I stopped writing them in order but here we are. And I think they are all gonna end up being fics, considering how hard it is for me to stick to just HCs and imagines.

I hope y’all are ready for the shit ton of smut your about to get

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profserenasinclair · 2 years

Link

Chapters: 5/11 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter - Fandom Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall, Regulus Black, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, The Dark Lord, Rolanda Hooch, Poppy Pomfrey, Horace Slughorn, Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Thorfinn Rowle, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley Additional Tags: Hogwarts, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Smut, Death Eater - Freeform, Witch - Freeform, Potions, Slytherin Summary:

Serena Sinclair is an ex-Auror and a Death Eater disguising to be an intern for Professor Snape at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord is on the rise to return to power. Since Severus Snape is serving as the Dark Lord’s informant on the Order of the Phoenix, the Dark Lord has Serena return to Hogwarts for other plans. However, those plans were not supposed to include fucking Severus Snape. Serena’s entanglement with Severus becomes a world of conflict. When the past beckons for her and the future of the wizarding world is privy to her contribution, she finds herself struggling often between loyalties.

#severus snape #harry potter #hogwarts #smut #potions #fanfic #fandom #harry potter fanfic rec #harry potter fanfiction #albus dumbledore #malfoy #lucius malfoy #voldemort #death eater #the dark lord #witch #slytherin

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lenoraslament · 3 months

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Make Me Forget - smutty smut smut from my the newest chapter of my Tom Riddle fanfiction Lenora’s Lament

Happy Valentines Day!

Trigger warning: smut, praise, mentions of unaliving (not in relation for the smut part).

Enjoy!

Nora knocked once and waited. Then again. Black opened the door to Tom’s room.

“Lost?” He gave a little smirk.

“Who is it Black?” Tom sounded perturbed.

Black widened the door, Tom looked over his shoulder at her amused. He sat at his desk facing the wall.

“Feeling better?” He asked returning to his notebook.

“No I was hoping…” her voice trailed off. Tom didn’t turn around he was furiously writing. She saw something on his desk a goblet of some sort glinting in the light from the lantern in his room.

Black looked down at her, she saw his arm move and the cup was gone.

“I’ll leave you two” he smiled and bowed to her as they traded places.

Tom still hadn’t turned around, “Tom I need your help” she said.

“What is it? I’m very very busy” he huffed.

She walked behind him touching his shoulders, her head lowered to his shoulder. He shrugged her off, “I really need to concentrate”.

“Please” her voice sounded a little firmer. Again she touched his shoulders, her arms moving across his chest.

Tom stopped writing for a moment and turned his head, “what do you need darling?”

“I need you to make me forget” she kissed the side of his neck, “I can’t stand feeling this way”.

He turned around full while seated.

“You want me to…..?” His eyebrow was raised.

Lenora straddled his lap,

“Make. Me. Forget” her eyes locked on his.

He tried to read her face, his eyes flicking down to her mouth. His hand grabbed her neck firmly, he brought her mouth to his.

Their tongues pressed together his grip tensing making her gasp slightly.

He stood keeping her legs wrapped around his waist and crossed the room. Her back hit the bed and he pulled off her shirt palming greedily at her breasts.

Lenora closed her eyes and focused on his touch, it felt like a gentle breeze against her skin. His lips trailed over her breasts, his tongue lazily licking her nipples.

Tom unlatched her skirt quickly and undressed himself. He took a moment to look over her body, her eyes snapped open when he stopped touching her.

“Make me forget Tom” she said again, “I don’t want to think anymore”

Her hands reached out for him but he stepped back.

“Touch yourself” he said.

“What?” Her lips were parted.

“I want to watch you touch yourself” he demanded.

Sheepishly her hands trails across her stomach. She closed her eyes as she touched between her thighs.

“Eyes on me” he said, her cheeks flushed as she stared at him. Her fingers grazing herself slightly. Finally she found her own bundle of nerves, letting out a soft gasp.

“Good girl” he took a step closer to her, “just like that”.

She nodded and moved her fingers in a steady rhythm, her eyes never leaving his.

Her breaths became deeper, her legs dangled off the bed as she laid horizontally. Tom stood above her between her legs watching her come undone.

His hand stroked her thigh.

She let out a moan, “oh I’m going to come” her breathing quickened.

“Come for me pretty girl” he said and she cried out her orgasm making her shake. Tom grabbed the back of her knees pulling her hips to the end of the bed. Lenora was still writhing in pleasure as he pushed himself into her. He groaned feeling her contract around him. She no longer had the ability to look at him, her head was thrown back as she screamed in pleasure. He thrusted into her roughly, pressing her into the mattress. She clawed at his sheets panting, his hands found her hips for leverage. Tom felt her hips buck against his as she cried out loudly again.

“Oh fuck” she turned her head to the side as her legs quivered.

He pulled away and helped her up, urging her to turn around, his hands wrapped around her hair.

“Is this what you wanted” he asked teasingly.

“Yes” she whispered, her stroked her from behind his thumb teasing her clit slowly. He brought himself to her entrance.

“So I can hear you” he smirked as he felt her hips gyrate trying to push against him.

“Yes Tom” she said desperately. His fingers wrapped around her hips as he drove into her. She grunted as he thrusted, her overstimulated body buzzing from constant pleasure.

Their breaths matched each other as they both neared orgasm. He grabbed a handful of her hair as she came fast and hard. Tom swore under his breath as he released, holding her hips in place.

She fell against the bed when he finally withdrew. He crashed next to her for a moment, kissing her endlessly. Her arms made their way around his neck, she put her head on his chest listening to his heart beat slow as they laid together in silence.

“Did you forget” he asked after a while.

“Yes” she nestled her head against him trying to ignore the tears that threaten to spill.

Finally he stood and returned to his desk, “Just sleep here tonight” he said and she closed her eyes. In her mind Evan’s eyes were still fading and blood still dripped on the walls.

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kasagia · 28 days

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Right hand

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You were his right-hand (wo)man after he saw you in combat during your training on the Bene Gesserit. He freed you from them and turned you from a Bene Gesserit into a faithful soldier who took care of all his dirty business. Getting rid of the bodies of the people he killed, organising opponents for him to fight, poor people on whom he could vent his anger and desire for bloodshed, or even concubines. You were his eyes and ears in the baron's court. You reported everything to him, being more effective than any Bene Gesserit. But he wants more... much more. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; bathing together; dagger play; breeding kink? I guess; a lot things happening; my first time for Feyd so I'm a little nervous😅; enjoy!; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

It wasn't your choice to undergo Bene Gesserit training. Your mother abandoned you when you were a little baby and took you to these terrible women, leaving you to their mercy.

You hated them. Their entire organisation, which included planned breeding, aimed at creating the Kwisatz Haderach. To you, these women were a sick cult that you were reluctant to be a part of. You trembled with fear, thinking of the day when they would send you to extend the genetic line of a nobel family by lending your womb or to ensure that their plans succeeded.

However, you realised that you had little say in the matter. The Bene Gesserit would find you anywhere if you tried to run and hide. You were doomed to follow the orders of your crazy old reverend mother and wait in fear for the day when you could prove your usefulness.

But one day, you crossed paths with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And for a very long time, you considered it a real gift from fate. The first happy turn of events in your tragic life.

He was on a diplomatic mission. He was being shown around by the princess of your planet, and they happened to be attending the training of the Bene Gesserit sisters. You immediately caught his attention. Your movements were smoother, full of the passion of a true warrior. You charmed him so much that, at first, he thought you had put a spell on him. After seeing your potential and your obvious dislike for your sisters, he took you with him to Giedi Prime.

He faked your death so the Bene Gesserit sisters wouldn't come looking for you. He made you his right hand, his most trusted soldier. It was only after years of service under the Na-Baron that you realised that you had entered a much worse hell than any plans the Bene Gesserit had for you.

Feyd Rautha was supposed to be your personal devil. But first, you saw him as your saviour.

An animalistic, bloodthirsty scream resounds throughout the na-baron's private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow she received from the furious man. You enter the room just as Feyd pierces him with his sword, causing drops of blood to land on your face.

You wipe them away, undeterred by the na-baron's brutality. Years of service had accustomed you to all the acts of cruelty he was capable of. At least this time, the dead man's entrails didn't spill around him. You hated calling his harpies to the feast. Despite so many years spent at the side of the baron's favourite nephew, you never got used to his concubines. They made you feel strangely uneasy.

"My lord, na-baron." You say, announcing your presence. Feyd breathes heavily and shifts his mad, furious gaze to you, not noticing your entrance until you speak.

You walk past the body, avoiding the pool of blood, and hand him a towel. He takes it from you without a word, wiping the sweat and blood from his head, chest, and back. You ignore his exposed muscles and kneel next to the man on whom he took out his anger, preparing to carry him out of the room before the next opponent/toy shows up.

"You were right. That old fool entrusted Arrakis to my brother. He will embarrass our family in one day. Ha! Even half is enough for him! This wretch doesn't know how to manage a small province, let alone an entire planet with fremen ready to attack at any corner." He says, rubbing himself furiously. He throws a towel into the corner of the room and walks to the table to pour himself something to drink.

"He gives him a chance to prove himself. When he wastes it, you will get it and prove to the baron and the lords that you are rightfully entitled to the title of baron." You say, securing the body so the guards at the door can carry it out.

"Every fool knows that. It's obvious that I'm a better choice than this scoundrel, who will sell the secrets of our family and swear allegiance to anyone who threatens his life. Baron throws a party in his honor. To the success of his mission. He's just doing it to piss me off. He doesn't give a damn about Rabban or whether he succeeds. This is just another of his tests on me. That's why you're coming with me. I've already sent for a dress for you." You look up at him with your surprised gaze. You're even more shocked when he reaches out his hand to help you up—something you didn't expect from him in his white, burning rage state.

"A dress?" You ask, taking his hand. You hold your breath, keeping yourself from gasping, as he lifts you off the floor with one strong pull. Unprepared, you bump completely onto his chest, not being able to keep your balance.

You freeze at the feeling of his muscled body close to yours. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline he felt while killing this poor man. You tense up, seeing his icy-blue eyes already staring at yours. He starts giggling darkly as he presses you tighter against him so you can feel every muscle of his.

"Is there a problem? Would you prefer to come naked? I wouldn't mind, but…”

"I'm simply surprised that you want me there officially. I usually sneak there. I watch from the shadows. Well, you know." You interrupt me before he can insinuate anything, and with his silent permission, you move a decent distance away from him, leaving his arms.

You always had to be careful when making moves like this. You saw how he punished for minor offences, just for breathing. And you didn't run away from the Bene Gesserit with him to lose your life because of one of his… impulses. Although he has never put you in any serious danger, which was strangly amazing, since all of the servants who worked for him (and are still alive) have experienced his wrath on their bodies at least once.

"I know. But this time, I need you by my side. Not in hiding. My birthday is coming up—the most important of them all. I want to know what my uncle will come up with. Maybe you can find out something from the Lords. Besides, why wouldn't I want to have such beauty on my arm?"

"You want a woman by your side so you can humiliate your brother before he leaves? Perpetuate in him a sense of belief that you are superior, even if you don't have power over Arrakis right now?"

You see his hands tighten on his blades. You purse your lips, realising you were too quick to question his intentions. Basic mistake. You shouldn't have tested the waters when you knew Feyd was already on the end of his patience.

He takes a step towards you, entering your personal space. You swallow and lift your head to meet his gaze. This wasn't the first time he had intimidated you, tested you, carefully gauged your reaction, and waited until he finally saw the fear in your eyes. But you never gave him that satisfaction. If the Bene Gesserit taught you anything, it was that fear was weakness. A weakness you could tame... at least enough not to show it to anyone else.

So you endure his piercing, burning gaze with indifference. You stay like that even after a small smirk starts to appear on his face. You wonder how many people before you saw that smirk and stared into those night-black eyes on Giedi Prime as they passed from this world.

"That pink little tongue of yours will get you into trouble one day, my little witch." He purrs, his tone low and dangerous. He reaches up to your face with his free hand and gently runs his hand through your hair, caressing your cheek and jaw with the pad of his thumb. "Possible. I'm a na-baron... don't I deserve the best?" He looks defiantly at you, throwing you the proverbial gauntlet. He's waiting for you to stumble. For open defiance of his order.

You don't understand why, but he's been acting like this more and more lately. He made ambiguous comments, carefully watching your reaction. It was something new—a change in his behaviour that you hadn't figured out the reason for yet. But you had too much on your mind to think about it any longer.

"I can prepare you a beautiful concubine perfect for Giedi Prime standards." You suggest at which he shakes his head, laughing hoarsely. He turns his back to you and pours himself another glass of water.

"It's not necessary. I want you. Go and get ready. I'll join you in two hours when I'm done here." He says just as the door opens to reveal the soldiers you called for to take the body away and who have brought him a new drugged opponent. Feyd licks his lips, flips the blade up, and catches it, making a little show before lunging at his toy.

"As you wish, my na-baron." You say before leaving him to get ready for the party. Another warrior's scream echoes off the walls of the chamber as Feyd unleashes his anger on him.

You scan the room carefully, standing with your glass against the wall in a more crowded part of the room. You try your best to blend in with the crowd, but with your hair down, it's not that easy. Even if you try to cover your hair, you can feel people's curious gazes on you. But the worst ones are the burning gazes of the lords on you, some of them too lustful to be able to feel comfortable.

If you could, you would hide in the shadows, as usual, and observe them without being the centre of attention. You felt like a monkey in a circus or an exotic animal at an exhibition. The cold hand on your shoulder reminds you why you can't do this. You turn around to once again meet the na-baron's intense gaze today.

"You look good." He says as his eyes carefully scan the black latex dress with cutouts on the sides that reach down to your hipbones. "But I don't remember having that metal corset disguised as armour and that ridiculous chain veil sent to you along with the dress."

"I almost mistook this rag for a nightgown. I had to wear something on it. They think I'm your whore anyway; we don't have to prove it to them." You respond to his taunt and turn towards him. He is wearing black, formal armour, which is perfect as an official outfit.

"Do you find it scandalous to be my whore, little witch? Maybe even disgusting?" You meet his gaze to roll your eyes at him, at which he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don't like this closeness, but there's nothing you can do to push his hand off of you. You are in public. Such a gesture towards him would be equivalent to a death sentence.

"I see nothing... honourable or good in being anyone's whore, my na-baron." You say, gently moving away from him so as not to lean on him as much.

"Have you seen anything noteworthy?" He asks, unfazed by your trying to move away from him. He pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter and making your back rest against his chest. His fingertips brush against the exposed skin, caressing your hipbone.

You frown, turning your head to look at him. He's never been so... clingy before. He always respected your personal space and never touched you. You blame it on his desire to tease his brother, who is staring at you intently from across the room, and you shift your gaze to the people present at the party.

"Several lords congratulated your brother. However, there are rumours and beliefs that he will not be up to the task. Some also believe that you will slit his throat before his ship leaves for Arrakis."

"This idea crossed my mind. If you hadn't brought this information to me earlier, you would probably have had to deal with making the public believe in his… tragic and sudden death from natural causes."

"Natural causes; I wish I could see that." You scoff, finishing your drink. You turn around, leaving his arms, and set your glass down on the table. When you turn to him again, he holds out his hand for you to take.

"You'll see if you don't entertain me. I'm bored, and looking at this smug idiot isn't helping my patience or my ability to restrain myself. Dance with me, my little witch."

"You're interrupting my work." You complain, taking his hand. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you around, pulling you tight against his chest. He holds you close to him, perfectly placing his steps and moving to the beat of the music. He is as fluid in dancing as he is in fighting. Flawless as always.

"I'm your work. You are my right hand; you meet all my needs. I don't think I need to remind you of that, do I?" He asks in challenge, taking your chin between his two fingers as he looks at you carefully. You only smile at him in a sweet, artificial way. He laughs, fully aware of how fake this act is, and drops your chin.

Over the years, you discovered that he liked it when you teased him and responded to his taunts with your own. Of course, only when no one could hear it, and not very often. He had a reputation to uphold. He couldn't afford for anyone to see his right-hand (wo)man mocking him. Unbeknownst to you, he found it adorable the way your eyes lit up whenever you did something mischievous.

"Of course not, my na-baron."

"Good." He nods at your words. He takes his eyes off you for a moment and focuses on something behind your shoulder. He leans down, his cheek brushing against yours. You shiver at the sudden closeness, his scent becoming more distinct as you inhale it wholeheartedly. It's captivating. Sweet. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Just like him. "Do you have your daggers?" His hot whisper reaches your ear. He's so close, you can almost feel his full lips brush against your earlobe.

"Yes, why?" You ask, perfectly masking the tremble in your voice. But you doubt whether you can hide from him how your heartbeat speeds up. You blame it on the adrenaline rush. Not fear caused by his proximity.

"It seems to me that you will soon have to prove to these imbeciles once again why I chose you to be my right-hand man." He explains as the song ends.

You feel him reluctantly release you from his embrace and take a step away from you. You turn around and see his brother walking towards you, his right hand following him, giving you a mischievous look and a lecherous, mocking smile when he sees your outfit. You straighten up, lifting your head proudly at the man in a similar position to yours. The difference between you was that you served the stronger Harkonnen. It would give you an inviolably higher position if, like them, you had a penis between your legs.

"Brother. You finally brought your pet to play with us." Rabban says, nodding to his brother. You feel a wave of disgust as his gaze lingers on you longer.

Feyd tenses, furious, as his brother's eyes are all on you. You wouldn't have noticed if his hand hadn't been on your hip bone a moment later, hiding some of your exposed skin from his brother's eyes. You wonder what his problem might be. After all, he chose this dress for you by himself.

"Be careful. She doesn't have a muzzle. I would prefer that no harm come to you before you go to Arrakis. She's got some pretty... sharp teeth." He says it condescendingly, pulling you closer to him. In a perfect world, you'd kick them both in the groin. Unfortunately, you don't have that luxury. You can only imagine putting these two pseudo-alpha males in their place. But how sweet these dreams are...

"What about a small competition? My man against yours? Let's see what this mysterious beauty that you keep hidden can really do." Rabban's right-hand man gives you a cocky, confident look. He plays with the dagger in his hand, making a poor show that was intended to intimidate you. You roll your eyes behind your metal chain veil and shift your gaze to Feyd. You are only subject to his orders. Not some weak, pathetic creatures.

"This party is already dead. Do you want to kill also YOUR pet?" Feyd mocks him, and you almost break your unflappable, emotionless attitude, barely holding back your laughter. Na-baron sees this and smiles to himself, rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb on your hipbone.

"Are you afraid that she won't heat your bed anymore?" Feyd narrows his eyes at him. You feel his fingertips dig painfully into your hip as he tries to keep himself from lunging at his brother with the blade. You know full well that the eyes of the lords, the baron, and most of the people at the party are turned towards you.

"I have no doubt whatsoever about the outcome of this little skirmish. She will just sweat unnecessarily. And I would rather have her in full strength tonight." He says it in a mocking tone, shifting his gaze towards you. He licks his lips and tightens his grip to make his lewd intentions towards you clear to the two men.

Despite his famous reputation, he never touched you. Giedi Prime society might have thought otherwise, but in the years you had served as his right-hand man, he had never once taken you to bed or had you entertain him at night. You appreciated it immensely, which is why you accepted such behaviour from him without batting an eyelid whenever you were in public. It was all a game to maintain the reputation he had built over the years. Or so you thought.

"Feyd, boy, release your pet. Let her entertain us." The baron's words interrupt any skirmish that might have developed between the brothers.

It was not uncommon at Giedi Prime parties for soldiers to fight against each other to entertain the crowd. You just didn't think that you would have to fight someone during your first official arrival at the party. Although you should have anticipated such an unexpected turn of events. The baron and Rabban would not miss the opportunity to find out how much you were really worth and why Feyd, out of all the talented soldiers, chose the Bene Gesserit as his right-hand man.

You send a quick glance at Feyd. He gives you a small nod, so you bow to the baron and prepare to fight. The crowd around you parts to form a circle. You feel people's excitement as you flip the metal chains from your face to your hair, revealing more of your face. You wrap the shawl around your hair, tying it tighter and making sure it won't get in the way of your fight.

You look at your opponent, who is also preparing, trying to spot any of his weak points before the fight even begins. Rabban says something in his ear, which causes the manly smile to grow. Feyd stands in front of you, blocking your view of them. You look into his steel blue eyes as he leans towards you.

"Don't hold back." He whispers in your ear, handing you his blade. "And finish it quickly. We have other things to do."

You nod at him. He walks away from you, sending a mocking smirk at your opponent. He spreads his arms, taking a few steps back, as if inviting him to try his hand at you. You feel the burning gaze of his eyes on your back as you position yourself in front of the man.

"Don't worry, witch. If I win, I won't kill you. It's a shame to waste such a pretty face. I wonder if you're as good as the rumours say. Your pussy must be good to keep the na-baron entertained for so long." He says, waiting for you to activate your shield. But you don't do this. You want to completely humiliate him and give everyone in the room a clear message about your power and that you didn't secure your place just by having a pretty face. The crowd cheers, but you think you can hear Feyd growl furiously amidst the shouts of approval.

"I doubt you'll have the chance to find out." You say, and without waiting for his next words, you attack.

After the first few attacks, you figure out his tactics. He is physically strong, it's true, but that's his only advantage. It attacks you in a learned way, repeating its patterns. You read him quickly and position yourself to use his strength and mass against him. You could have walked up to him a long time ago and slit his throat, but you know it would be much better if you had some fun with him. You will show that you have complete control over the course of this fight.

You dodge the man's punches, and after a few minutes, you quickly get bored when you once again manage to kick him and send him to his knees. You take advantage of the moment he gets up from the floor to glance at your na-baron. Feyd doesn't look happy with your introduction. Of course, you see his interested look and how he appreciates your skills, but he doesn't look at you like he usually does. He doesn't wait with bated breath for your next move, like the crowd around you does. You can tell from his face that he wants you to finish this as soon as possible. You frown, surprised that he of all people doesn't enjoy watching the fight. You wonder what the hell is wrong with him.

Your moment of inattention is, of course, immediately exploited by your opponent. You manage to fend off the man's blade, but not his kick, which sends you landing on your butt on the floor. You feel rage more than pain; you only see red when you hear the cocky laugh of the man you are fighting with. You're so focused on driving the blade into his body that you don't notice Feyd's angry look, the murder in his eyes, and the desire to rip your opponent apart with his own hands as you fall to the floor. And you certainly don't see the trembling of his hand, as he instinctively wanted to grab you and pull you safely behind him.

You strike once, quickly driving the blade into the man's stomach and leaving it there. You push him to his knees, push away the hand that holds the sword, and reach for the dagger hidden in the sleeve of your dress. You strike a second time, piercing his shoulder. You stick the second dagger into his hand and knock the weapon out of his hand, taking it from him. You grab the man's throat in a tight grip and tilt his head back. You lean over him, a mocking smirk on your face as he struggles to breathe.

"I didn't even take off my high heels." You mocked him as you slit his throat.

You smile victoriously as you decapitate him. His head rolls at your feet, blood splattering your dress and face as you breathe heavily. You sigh, feeling your heart pound in your chest, as you bow to the crowd surrounding you as they shout and applaud you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rabban's sour, angry expression. You kick the head of his right hand towards him and give him a small smirk. You stand upright as you meet the eyes of your na-baron.

And then you saw it. Hunger in his eyes. Pure lust and desire, as his pupils were wide and solemnly focused on you.

You knew that gaze. He only looked like that at things he really wanted. Only his favourite concubines got THAT look from him or a beautiful, precisely made weapon that fit perfectly in his hands. Usually he had that look in his eyes right after the great battle he won. He would lock himself with his concubines and then spend long hours in his chambers, giving himself completely to his primal instincts.

You shiver as he walks towards you, ignoring anything else in the room. He grabs you tightly by the throat, and, to the delight of the drunken crowd who are screaming madly with excitement after the show you had made, he kisses you.

It is hard, hungry, and passionate. His hand completely removes the metal chains and shawl that were covering your head, and he pulls you to him as close as possible. His grip on your hair and throat is tight as he demands that your mouth be opened for him by biting your lower lip. You moan involuntarily, causing his tongue to slip into your mouth, as he is exploring new territory with a zeal you've never seen from him.

He pulls away from you when you're completely out of breath. Your vision is blurry, your heart is pounding from the adrenaline of the fight, and you can only stare at him stupidly and blankly while trying to understand what just happened.

Your eyes widen as he licks his lips, lust still burning in his eyes as he takes in your panting form and swollen, red lips. A trickle of blood drips from your mouth after he bit into it a few minutes ago. As you taste your blood on your tongue, you realise the terrifying truth.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen desired you.

Feyd strokes your neck, which is still in his tight grip. His eyes travel from your lips to your neck, to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, and to your hips, which were starting to bruise from how tightly he held them in the moments before your fight. Suddenly, everything starts to fall into place for you. His strange, unusual behaviour, the flirtatious comments, the long stares, and his more frequent attempts to hold you close to him and touch your exposed skin are starting to make sense.

You were screwed.

Completely and utterly fucked up.

You've been avoiding him since that night. More than any Reverend Mother or Bene Gesserit. Which was a very difficult task, considering how many things you had to do as his right hand.

But, luckily, you managed to avoid being alone with him. Of course, it couldn't last long. You knew him very well, and you knew that eventually he would try something and come for you. But you tried to deceive yourself by living the lie that his desire would pass and his concubines would effectively take care of him.

If he noticed your attempts to stay away from him, he never mentioned it. Of course, he chased after you when he saw you walking alone down the hall, but you never gave him a chance to catch up with you. He may have grown up here, but you knew the palace like the back of your hand. And all the nooks and crannies you could hide in from him.

So you actually managed not to get close to him for a very long time. Until it was time to train a unit of soldiers directly subordinate to him.

"Y/N!!!" You're sure all of Giedi Prime could have heard his scream. You sigh, calming down as you continue your walk to the arena. You step out into the black sun, carefully watching the men training. You walk up to him and bow to him.

"My lord na-baron." You say it politely, unfazed by the fact that he's practically seething with rage. You were more used to dealing with him like this than when he was horny... or worse, kind. You would turn on your shield if you knew it wouldn't make him fall over the edge and start murdering everyone he could.

"Take your blade. None of these piles of useless muscles know basic defensive moves. Look, you all! You have to learn this by the end of the day, or next time you will enter this arena as my opponent!" He walks over to one of them, probably to either stab him or adjust his position, leaving you to get ready. You tie your hair up so it doesn't bother you during a fight and choose your blade.

You gasp in surprise when you are suddenly pushed. You turn around quickly, trying to keep your balance as you face the na-baron. You move your hand to activate your shield, but his voice stops you:

"Don't. I have to show them how to do it. No shield." You know he's lying, and that's not why he doesn't want you to turn on your shield, but you don't say anything. You just nod and prepare to get into a defensive position.

He attacks you quickly. Very quickly. You've trained with him before, and you have to admit, he's never been this… brutal with you.

You go through different positions with him until you finally stop following the textbook fighting patterns and start fighting seriously. You keep up with his movements for a long time, blocking his blade with yours and dodging attacks that you have no physical ability to block, but he keeps pressing against you, not letting you rest or trying to return the favour with one of your attacks.

You gasp in surprise when he trips you, sending you to the ground. You block his swing at you with your blade and kneel in the sand, trying to get up, but he's pressing too hard against you with his sword for you to move. You use all your strength to push him away from you. Feyd growls, throwing his sword aside, and simply lunges at you. You're too shocked to do anything as he snatches the blade from your hand and sits on top of you.

You fight him, sending both of you rolling in the sand. Eventually, he gets impatient and wraps his hand around your throat. You take a hoarse breath as he blocks your airway. You grab his hand around your neck and try to pull it away. You dig your nails into his palm, but he remains unmoved, pinning you to the sand.

He leans closer to you, and you take the opportunity to wrap your hand around his neck. He laughs, showing you his black teeth as he practically lays on top of you. His erection presses hard against your thigh as he grinds against you, grunting as he too begins to feel the need for air... and something more. You see black spots in front of your eyes, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe.

You let go of his neck completely, your hand falling next to your head, and you desperately try to use the remaining air to try and use your Bene Gesserit voice on him. But before you try to say anything, he loosens his grip so you can breathe, but his fingers are still lightly holding your neck.

Too busy breathing, you don't notice how he tilts his face towards you. Only when you feel his tongue on your neck do you realise how close he is to you. You freeze when he runs his tongue from your neck, from jaw to cheek, to taste your tears. You hear him moan softly. To confirm that your brain, stunned by lack of oxygen, didn't make it all up on its own, he rubs against you, and his hardness in his pants is clearly felt by you.

You just fucking hope he doesn't fuck you in front of those soldiers.

You meet his black eyes with yours. You shiver as he leans in, his bare chest pressed completely against you as he whispers into your ear.

"Damn you, witch... if you taste as sweet as your tears..." He growls. You feel dizzy, and you're not sure if it's because of the heat of the moment, the fact that he cut you off from oxygen for a while, or because you're overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth that radiates from the two of you.

You thank whoever is above you as he finally pulls away from you and stands up. He gives you his hand and helps you stand on your two feet. The soldiers obediently look at the ground, not daring to face the na-baron's gaze. You swallow hard, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Feyd barks orders at them, herding them back to training. You breathe a sigh of relief when he stops paying attention to you. You use your shawl to wipe his saliva and your sweat from your neck. You take your blade and are about to leave the arena to do the rest of your duties. But a tight grip on your wrist stops you. You tense up and turn around to face him again.

"Y/N." He murmurs, watching you carefully. You're sure that bruises are starting to appear on your neck from his tight squeeze. "Come to my chambers tonight." A cold shiver runs through you, but all you can do is nod and watch his retreating figure as he leaves to continue the training.

You hoped he didn't mean what you thought he meant by that... invitation. Otherwise, this could be your last night on Giedi Prime or the last night of your life. You're not sure yet.

For the first time, you feel fear as you walk to his chambers. He had called for you at such times before, but it never occurred to you that he wanted to do with you something else than discuss with you matters that were related to the Giedi Prime Court, the baron's plans, or other political matters and plots.

You shudder, wondering what might be waiting behind that door. You saw the condition in which some of his concubines left him. You didn't want to become one of them; you didn't want to be reduced to being his lover. It was fine as it was. You felt very good as his shadow, ears, and eyes. You liked conspiring together with him, making plans, and that hrill each time you managed to take down the enemies that were standing in your way. He was supposed to be your savior, not your persecutor. Were you that naive from the beginning, or has everything started going to shit recently?

The guards let you through without saying a word. With your heart pounding, you enter his chambers.

He's sitting on the bed. His harpies finish taking off his clothes, and at first you want to back away, but as soon as his gaze meets yours, you freeze. Feyd snaps at one of them. She hands him a glass of his wine while the others look at you furiously.

"Leave." He tells them, never taking his eyes off you. The women look at each other, not wanting to leave him, especially leave him alone with you. You guess that if it weren't for Feyd's presence, they would have attacked you long ago, trying to eat you before their master got a chance to touch you. Disgust arouses in you as you think that you may be soon reduced to their role and turned into one of them. "I said something." He growls at them, shifting his gaze from you to give them an angry glare.

The harpies are going out obediently, but they are not wasting an opportunity to hiss at you as they pass you to get to the exit. You hear one of them scream in pain as Feyd suddenly throws a knife at them right before they close the door behind them.

You were more used to his brutal reflexes than to his tender gestures. You actually preferred him being aggressive more. At least you could have predicted his movement. That's why you didn't even blink when he threw a blade at his pets.

"You wanted to see me." You start when you are alone. If you could impress him with anything other than your fighting skills and the ability to obtain various information by staying in the shadows, it would be that you never showed fear or insecurity. At least not to those who don't know you. Almost no one could read you. Almost.

However, Feyd saw that you were behaving differently. But he was tired of controlling himself around you. He couldn't do it anymore after tasting your lips, tasting your skin mixed with tears, and feeling your curves press against him. He wanted more. Much more than he ever got from you. And he was going to take it, whether you wanted it or not. He won't go crazy with lust for you... or at least not with as much longing for you each night as he used to.

"I did..." He stands up, and you're grateful he's at least wearing underwear as he walks over to his bar and pours a second glass of wine. He hands it to you and taps it with his own. He takes a few sips and looks at you. After a while, he sits down on his bed again and swirls his glass, playing with the remains of the wine. "Baron wants me to find a wife." He announces calmly, staring at you intently as he finishes his wine with one big sip.

You almost choke on your drink. You place your glass on the table and meet the careful gaze of his cold, blue eyes. You feel yourself starting to get hot with nerves.

"I beg you pardon?" You ask, still reeling from the shock of this sudden information.

"He wants me to find a broodmare who will bear my heirs since I am getting close to the appropriate age." He repeats, standing up gracefully. He approaches you, his steps slow and measured, as if he were approaching his prey in an arena. And for a moment, that's exactly how you feel. But you show no fear or any other emotion as he stops a few inches in front of you. You straighten up, your muscles tensing as you think about any answer.

"I… I can make the necessary preparations and check which high families…"

"Strip." He orders you. His tone is hoarse, leaving no room for any objection. He talks just as if he were asking you to pass him the dagger rather than to stand naked in front of him. As if it was an order he carried out every day and something you should be used to following.

"What?" You ask stupidly, unable to process what he said to you in your head.

"Have you gone deaf? Undress. Take your clothes off." He repeats mockingly. He crosses his arms, takes a few steps back, and leans against the wooden post of his bed as he watches you carefully, waiting for you to either obey his order or openly disobey him, giving him the opportunity to punish you... as if he even needed a reason to do so.

"My na-baron, I..."

"Exactly, Y/N. I am your na-baron. So follow my order. Now. I'm not in the mood for our games. You think I haven't noticed you've been playing hide-and-seek lately? I have given much worse punishments for such disobedience and attempts at self-indulgence. Take your clothes off, or I'll rip them from you."

For a moment, there is a deathly silence in his chambers. Only your breathing can be heard as you try to find any way out of this situation. But you can't think of anything. Your mind is empty, your hands are shaking a little, and all you can do is look at him, silently begging him to change his mind. A frown of impatience appears on his forehead, and you know you have to do something before he gets irritated and cuts you with one of his blades.

You sigh softly as you reach for the laces of your shirt. You take your time, slowly untying your bindings. Feyd devours every bit of skin you expose to him, and you swear you hear him hold his breath as your shirt lands on the floor. You get out of your shoes and socks very slowly.

Luckily, he doesn't comment on it and lets you get out of his clothes at your own pace. He knows he will win anyway. Tonight, he will finally stop playing cat and mouse with you and put his hands on what is rightfully his. So he savours every moment, making a plan in his head for what he will do to you tonight for this small act of rebellion.

He licks his lips as you stand in front of him in nothing but black underwear. His eyes take in your every curve, skin lesions, and scars that mark your warrior body. Oh yes. He was going to enjoy this night and finally unwrap his early birthday present.

"Good girl. You know where the bathroom is, right?" Without waiting for your response, he goes there, expecting you to follow him.

You swallow hard. You're glad that at least you managed to stay in your underwear and that you're not completely naked in front of him. You get out of your pile of clothes and leisurely follow him to the bathroom.

As soon as you enter, the door closes itself behind you. You sigh, the sweet smell of bath salts reaching your nostrils. But you don't feel so relaxed when the coolness of the bathroom and the black marble you stand barefoot on make you shiver and your nipples harden.

The na-baron's dark chuckle catches your attention. He's in a large, black bathtub, his hands resting on its edges as he enjoys the warm water, watching you closely, a spark of amusement shining in his icy blue eyes. He looks like a vulture waiting for the best moment to kill his prey.

"It had been a long day. Join me." He says, lifting his hand for you to take and step into the tub.

Having no choice, you obediently reach for his hand and release it as quickly as you can, sitting on the other side of the bathtub with your legs tucked under you so as not to accidentally touch him. He laughs, shaking his head in amusement.

"Not so far, my little mouse. Closer. I won't bite… well, not yet."

"I'm not a mouse." You snap at him. If you're going to die, at least die with dignity. Blinded by your anger at him, you sit on his lap before you can think it through. It's only his hardness pressing against your ass that makes you realize what a mistake you've made. You don't show your discomfort, though; you even lean against his chest, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around you just as the skin of your back meets his chest. You feel like you're in a cage, even though he's trying to calm you down by lazily drawing patterns on the skin of your arms. Your underwear soaks up the water and sticks to you, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

"Hand me my dagger."

You much prefer receiving such orders from him. You get up from the bathtub to get away from him for a moment, but he stops you by grabbing your hips tightly. He shakes his head and nods towards the dagger, which is literally at his fingertips. You bite your lip, keeping yourself from talking back at him, and reach for the weapon, handing it to him. You do this carefully, not wanting to cut the skin of your fingertips with the very sharp blade.

He cuts through the fabric of your bra with surgical grace. You gasp in outrage but don't move, knowing full well that you are only millimetres away from him taking your blood. You don't have to turn around to know he's smiling cockily as he traces the tip of his dagger across your skin to your panties.

"You know I can take it off by myself?" You ask as he traces patterns with the tip of his dagger on your stomach, around your navel. You hold your breath as he rests his chin on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him, rubbing against your still-clothed ass. You learn the hard way that the rumours about his... greatness were true.

"You had your chance at the beginning, now it's my turn. You're lucky that I'm not taking it off of you with my teeth anyway." He growls in your ear. You shiver as he presses a wet kiss on your shoulder, peppering kisses on your skin, down to your neck, and down to your jawbone before he rests his chin on your shoulder again.

"Sorry for interrupting your fun, my na-baron." You growl as he hooks the tip of his dagger against the fabric of your panties.

"No worries; you will compensate me in another way." He says, cutting your panties. He throws them behind him and lazily presses the dagger against your jawbone, forcing you to turn your head to look at him.

You meet his blue eyes with yours. His irises are practically non-existent, giving way entirely to his dilated, black pupils. He stares at you hungrily, licking his lips. He looks lost and indecisive, as if he didn't know what to do first.

His other hand, the one not holding the dagger pressed against your neck and jaw, explores your body, caressing your skin as if it were some kind of precious silk. You sigh as he cups your breast, which, of course, fits perfectly in his hand. You want to punch him in the face, but the dagger at your throat reminds you that one wrong move could cost you dearly. So you take his hand in yours instead, stopping him from over-exploring.

"You know... I tried to stay away from you. From the first moment I saw you... fighting with those daggers of yours... you're not as graceful in dancing as you are with them in your hands, taking down all your enemies. But you are Bene Gesserit. I know you're dangerous. So damn dangerous... if I were anyone else, you'd use your voice on me and tell me to castrate myself. Or you could make me magically disappear by throwing myself off some tall tower just because I thwarted your plans or looked at you wrong. Surprised? You may live in the shadows, my little witch, but I won't miss anything you do. You know I have trouble controlling myself... so how can I do that when you're so damn irresistible? The fact that I've endured all these years and not gotten close to you the way I wanted—the way I dreamed so many times at night—is quite a success, don't you think?"

He massages your breast, playing with it. You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he pinches your nipple. He leans closer to you, pressing his nose against your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. He removes his hand from your breast and moves your connected body along your body. You gasp, tightening your grip on his as he brushes your clit gently with his fingertip.

"I… I should go." You mumble, squirming in his grip, which is, of course, pointless and only makes him groan in pleasure as your ass rubs against his hard, leaking member.

"Stay. You won't oppose your na-baron, will you?" The bastard knows well that you won't openly oppose him, and he uses it as best he can. He moves your joined hands to his length, forcing you to wrap your hand around him. He hisses, pressing the blade closer to your throat and tightening his grip on your hand as he guides yours along his length the way he wants. "Your skin is so soft… and that beautiful hair that you needlessly hide… you don't know how many times I imagined pulling you by it." He mumbles into your neck. The hand with the dagger now presses against your chest, only causing your heart to beat much faster. A wave of heat washes over you, your traitorous pussy clenching desperately as you hear his moans in your ear.

"Feyd..." You moan as his hand releases yours and works at your desperate pussy. He growls, feeling the warmth of your walls around his fingers and the wetness he caused. You remove your hand from his member and tighten your grip on his hand, trying to push him away from your private parts in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation.

"Don't fight. Just give yourself to me, Y/N. Let me show you how much you've lost while trying to hide yourself from me in your shadows…" He growls, pressing the tip of the dagger to your nipple. You freeze, moaning as he becomes stiffened by the sheer movement of his blade.

He bites into your neck, making you moan loudly and throwing your head back. He licks and sucks your neck, rubbing his painfully hard cock against your pussy. The water splashes around you, some of it spilling out of the tub due to his sudden movements. A few inches deeper, and he would have slammed into you, bisecting you with his huge cock, which stood ready for you from the moment he saw you in your underwear.

"Can you feel it? Can you feel what you're doing to me? How hard I am because of you? It's like this every time you hand me my blade, perfectly balanced and sharpened, every time you meet all my needs without even communicating with me, you just know what I want by looking at me, my little witch. So tell me, who is a better partner for me than my right hand? Who can I trust more than you? Who should I fuck, full of my heirs, if not you?"

You don't respond; you can't find any words as your brain desperately tries to shout out the pleasure he's giving you and force you to resist him. Unsuccessfully. The warmth of the water, his body, his scent, and his precise, deliberate movements cut off your thoughts. Feyd is practically salivating at the sight of you so lost in lust and desire as he witnesses you lose control for the first time.

He throws away the dagger, which falls with a crash onto the marble floor. Neither of you care as he grabs your hips and, in one smooth, quick movement, turns you around so you can face him.

You only have time to draw in a quick breath before he demands your mouth. You moan into his lips as he kisses you with the same passion and intensity as he did a few weeks ago at the party after you won the fight. You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tightly, placing his hands on your back as he presses you against him. You don't stand a chance against his strength. You can resist him, but you know it won't be long before you collapse from exhaustion. You bite his lip until you draw blood, which only causes him to groan and have him grind against you, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

You gasp as he leaves your lips for a while and pulls your hair, exposing your throat to him so he can mark it even more. He sucks on your skin, littering it with hickeys as you feel him slowly move, positioning himself beneath you so that his member presses against the entrance of your pussy.

And just as he's about to join your bodies, to make you two one, to feel your hot, wet, tight walls around him, there's a knock on the bathroom door.

This time, he's the one who freezes, tightening his hold on you. You feel like he's making sure he hasn't misheard or imagined it in this heated moment between you, but when the knocking sounds a second time, he realises it's real.

You pray with gratitude for the soul of the fool who dared to interrupt him, because you know that even if it were something important, he would not live to see the morning.

"What?!" He growls furiously, not letting you go, not letting you move an inch from him, still believing that he can quickly get rid of the intruder and go back to ravaging you, maybe even fucking you while he talks to whoever is standing in front of that damned door. Though Feyd preferred to be fully focused on you when he took you for the first time. However, he was convinced that if he didn't feel you around him soon, he would go crazy. He is so close... all he had to do was push a little more...

"My lord na-baron. The Baron wants to see you. It's very important."

You see pure rage bubbling in his eyes. He growls, shifting you from his lap as he stands up. You look down as you see all of him very clearly, especially what you were exposed to a few moments ago. He throws a towel at you, and you automatically catch it. He wraps one around his waist before he comes back to you again and grabs your throat. He gives you a crazy, passionate kiss, stroking your neck and appreciating the marks he made before pulling away from you.

"We'll come back to it, little witch." He leaves you with that promise, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You hear him shouting something at his harpies, and you shudder at the thought of having to walk past them to get out of here. You lean back against the tub, still sitting in the now-cold water, as you slowly process everything that happened.

You succeeded this time, but you know you won't be so lucky next time. You could either accept... your new responsibilities and his expectations of you, or you could try to break free from him, risking your life.

It was a decision to be made in the privacy of your own chambers. For now, you let yourself lie in the cool water, fully aware that if you weren't interrupted now, he would fuck you silly, likely planting his seed inside you.

You ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be a whore, a vessel for their crazy breeding plan. Apparently, you just changed the owner of your womb. You had to do something if you didn't want to end up as originally intended—as the mother of the future Kwisatz Haderach.

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shomixremix · 2 months

Text

THE ALTAR OF ADORATION ♥︎

recently i've been getting more and more into my zhongli brainrot (even though he's been one of my fav characters since forever lol) so here you all go!!

oh also tysm for over 1k notes, 100+ reblogs and 50 new followers!! you guys are the best <3 i really didn't expect that kind of support on my last post - turns out everyone likes some dragon men!! so i decided to write some more, here you lovelies go!!

tags: Zhongli, female! reader, dragon! zhongli, religious themes, sacrificial offering, smut, fluff, mating, breeding, creampie, monsterfucking

-> you have been chosen as a sacrifice to the great geo lord rex lapis, during a period where everyone believed he was mad at mortals. scared for your life and trembling, you now realize there was another problem troubling lord morax.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI

great lord rex lapis roamed the earths and heavens for centuries, ruling the land of geo and its people through the thick and thin. they were very devoted followers, obeying his every wish.

however, the height of his reign has long passed, and people simply stopped caring about their archon. until recently.

crops began to wither, mines dried out, contracts were getting broken left and right - rex lapis has had enough of their careless behavior. his people have disappointed him, and this was a sign of his fury. if something wasn't to change, he would abandon them completely.

the people of liyue decided to recommit to their religion, prepared to offer the geo lord a sacrifice of any kind, just so he'd once again bless them. you, even though born in a time where people lost their respect for the geo lord, have always been a devoted follower, praying to him each day and leaving flowers and beautiful crystals under his statue of the seven.

already being a believer of the geo archon, you were chosen as the ceremonial sacrifice.

while nobody knew where rex lapis resided, the site of the ceremony was chosen to be on mt. hulao. as the crowds of people gathered from all over liyue around the lake on the top of the mountain, you stood in front of them, shaking. while you were a follower of morax, you didn't feel it was right to die for the sins of your people.

"it's time to pay our sacrifise!" yelled one of the townsfolk, holding your wrist in an iron grip as he he slit your palm with a sharp knife. you screamed out in pain as maroon blood dripped down your hand. the man who slit your hand placed a valuable cor lapis stone in it, watching as the orange stone quickly became stained with your red blood.

you held your breath as they placed you on the highest point of the mountain and pushed you off, chanting morax's name over and over.

falling seemed to last centuries, even though it was just seconds. you waited and waited for your body to hit the ground, tightening your hold on the cor lapis and in your head praying:

"rex lapis, if you're here, if you hear my prayer, please, i beg you, save me!"

suddenly, your feel onto something, tightly closing your eyes. was this... death?

you open your eyes and realize this wasn't any kind of afterlife - in fact, you were very much still alive, spread on top of the back of a large dragon. your mortality was confirmed by the sharp pain you still felt in your left hand.

"..r-rex l-lapis..?"

the dragon stayed quiet as you clutched his mane, holding on to him for dear life. he only let you get down once you were inside a large cave, seeming like it wasn't a part of the human world - no, this had to be an adepti realm.

an uneducated mortal maybe wouldn't be certain just who was standing between them, but you knew oh so very well. his goldenish brown scales, the big, honey-colored eyes and the tail which ended in a mosaic of clouds all gave him away. standing before you was the geo archon, the adeptus who saved your life even though you were a peace offering.

he stayed quiet, removing you from his back like it was nothing and moving to a completely different side of the cave, laying down on the cold ground with his back turned to you.

he was in no mood to talk, you knew, but you had to thank him for saving your life.

"lord morax..?"

he grumbled in response, steam coming out of his large nostrils.

"i cinserely thank you for saving my life... i was supposed to be a mere sacrifise, yet you still showed me mercy.. i.. just, thank you so much.."

the second the word "sacrifise" leaves your lips rex lapis perks up, turning to you with frantic eyes. he grabs your hand to inspect the still slightly bleeding cut, tearing a piece of your skirt to wrap around your wound as a bandage. morax tightly ties it, then quickly moves from you.

"it should stop the bleeding," he grumbled low, never turning to look at you, almost as if he was completely uninterested, "i will bring you to the villege tomorrow, little mortal. now sleep. your body needs rest"

how could you rest after such a traumatic experience? after almost having your life, all your hopes and dreams, unfairly thorn from you?

"no, i.. i can't return! they will all know that i failed, that i wasn't the sacrifise they all needed to save liyue from your punishment!"

morax huffs, his tail hitting the ground with a loud thump.

"then you can tell them all that i do not wish for a sacrifise. spilling innocent human blood is not only unecessary but also completely repulsive to me."

your eyes widen as he says this, your body instinctively moving a little closer to him: "you.. do not wish for a sacrifise, my lord? then how should we repay you for our sins? how can we ever make you forgive us for losing our faith in you..?"

rex lapis growls lowly, his body tightening like he was in some kind of discomfort or pain.

"the lack of my blessing isn't for the reasons your kind believes," he growled, "i'm not upset at you humans. now sleep." you knew well that that was an order, and an order coming from an archon must always be obeyed. yet, you didn't, scooting closer to him.

"the only thing to be upset about is that they sent you as the offering. how unfair it is to send one of my most devoted followers to die for my amusement.."

you hold your breath, afraid that he was actually considering killing you.

"i've recieved all the little treasures you leave out for me and have heard your every word. you're a persistant little one, aren't you?" even though you couldn't see him, you could feel the smirk on his face.

the knowledge that he has seen and heard how you worship him makes your heart thump loudly in your chest, a pool of pride and flusterness swirling in your belly.

suddenly, morax smells the air sharply, then started writhing on the ground in pain, cursing out a deep yet broken"fuck..!".

"are you in pain, my lord? can i do something to help?" you ask eagerly, wishing to help your saviour.

"move away!" he roared, steam coming out of his mouth. "go to sleep and stop talking to me when i ask, mortal!"

you frigtenedly to as told, laying down on the ground and turning away from him, squeezing your eyes shut. suddenly, you hear little muffled whines and cries coming from him, which immediately makes you look at him again.

his large head is completely flushed red, his lungs heaving up and down quickly. he panted out short little puffs of air, his eyes bloodshot ready and his body trembling slightly. you didn't know what was wrong with him, he acted like some kind of a wild animal in a rut-

"lord morax, are you.. in a rut..?" it was a shameful question to ask the archon, yet your curiosity got the better of you.

he huffed out, more and more in pain with every passing minute. "i haven't... hah... i haven't been in centuries... it's inevitable i go through it every couple of hundred years..."

morax groans, visibly in a lot of discomfort.

"and of course that when i'm in a rut they just have to send me a gorgeous woman as a sacrifice to worsen my state..."

your cheeks darken as he murmurs this, blood rushing to your head.

"how do i worsen your state..?"

"your arousal" he rasps, "i can smell it, little mortal. i can smell you, and it's torture. it pains every muscle in my body to resist you, but i have to; it's my duty"

your heart aches at his words.

"i can help" you breathe, unsure what you were even offering. his sharp eyes turn to you, piercing you with his gaze.

"no", his answer is short but stern, "i could kill you, i could harm you and leave you not remembering your own name. i cannot do that to my most devoted follower. not to you, y/n"

your heart stops, dropping to your feet.

"how do you know my name...?"

he groans as he explains: "i often wander around the mortal world in my human form, to feel closer to your kind... i have met you a couple of times during your prayer at the statue of the seven. i cannot use your pure body to breed when i know how much respect and hope you have in me. it would be betrayal to you, and you would never see me, nor my human form, the same"

"it pains me to see my archon in pain" you whisper as you get closer to the large dragon, your stomach stirring. you gently touch the scales down his back and feel how he shivers under your touches.

"i want... i want to help you, if i can... i want to help you through this.. you have helped me through the darkest points in my life, and even though i don't know who your human form is, i have a feeling i'm close to you even then... i just desire to help you, lord morax..."

"do you even understand what kind of help i need? what i will do to you if you allow me?"

you smile, running your hands through his shiny mane.

"yes, i understand. use me however you like, my lord."

his self control snaps, big paws pinning you down on the ground. he's panting like a dog as he nuzzles his head against your neck, tearing the rest of your skirt off. only left in a pair of underwear and a thin shirt, you tremble under the archon's touches.

"hm.. such a beautiful mortal..." he hums as he tears the rest of your cloth from your body, leaving you completely bare. you try to cover yourself with your arms, yet morax grabs them and pins them by your sides.

his large mouth comes in contact with your skin, licking, kissing and biting as he moved down. morax grazes your skin with his teeth, never biting down hard enough to draw blood from your veins. you had already done your sacrifice, more blood wasn't needed. his tounge moves from your neck to your exposed breast, swirling around your hard nipples, earning a little whimper from you.

then, he moves even lower, nipping at your stomach. he forces your tighs apart, burying his large head to your folds and forcing you to hold on to him by his horns. rex lapis tastes you eagerly, lapping up any slick your body oh so willingly gave him. you moaned and whined as he fucked you with his tounge, making you come almost instantly.

"ohhhh!! m-morax~ ahh..." you moan as he helps you through it, sharply tugging on your sensitive clit with his sharp teeth, always careful not to hurt you.

"celestia" he sighs into your slick folds, earning a tremble from you. "you taste devine, my dear. i haven't enjoyed such a sweet taste in centuries"

he shows you no mercy and continues to eat you out as if you were his last meal, one paw holding down your wrists and the other secured on your hips, not allowing you to move at all. after about three delicious highs he pulls from your frail body with his tounge, you start begging for the real thing. you knew his rut wouldn't be over unless he fucked you, and you were kinda hoping this torterous foreplay would be over soon...

"m-morax... please.." you whimper, squeezing your legs around his snout. he grumbles low, giving one final lick to your greedy pussy.

"i have to loosen you as much as possible so you could even try to take me. preperations can take up to days."

your eyes open wide and your mouth partens. you couldn't wait days to get him to fuck you, and you certainly didn't know how you'd survive days worth of eating out!

"but i cannot wait that long" he smirks, rubbing your outter tighs and ass. in one swift motion he flips you over so you were on your knees, face down and ass up. you feel his length rubbing up on you; even though you couldn't see him, your eyes went wide in shock. you felt how impossibly large he was, both in size and girth, almost being comparable to your legs.

but another thing surprises you - the head of his cock is poking at your tight entrance, but another thing is poking at your ass! you turn your head in shock, and he reassures you.

"i am different than a mortal, my dear"

you let out a loud scream of his name as he harshly thrusts both of his heavy cocks into you. he thrusts as far as he can, entering your cushy womb from how big he is and almost ripping your ass apart. you scream and cry and writhe yet he doesn't budge, letting you get used to him inside you for a few moments before he starts thrusting.

he starts moving without a warning, dragging you back on his cocks. you turn into a sobbing mess as each one of his thrusts so pleasantly tease your g-spot, bullying your tight walls.

"ahh.. ahhh! mphhh! mmphshs! m- mor... ah! ohhh!"

you cry and cry, not even knowing your own name out of so much pleasure. you feel like your holes are completely loose and yet, clamping down on him greedily. he tugs your head back by your hair, snuggling his nuzzle in your neck so you'd hear him better.

"shh, don't cry... you've asked me for this, little mortal. you asked to be fucked like this, hm? look at you, so pretty like this. so no need to cry, you will be fine. i allow you as much pleasure as you need. "

you couldn't stop yourself from coming, squirting your juices all over his cock. he watches this in amusement, fucking into you harder and faster. in one moment, he threw his head back in pleasure, making a loud roar.

"fuck, y/n..." he groaned as you hiccupped your sobs, finally giving a harsh, last thrust and stilling inside. you felt an impossible amount of warmth spread through your body as he filled you with seed, spilling a wave after wave of cum in your womb. he had filled you so much that it spilled from you, leaving you entirely breathless.

as soon as he's done he pulls out, letting you fall to the floor. he picks up your limp body, curling himself around you and cuddling you close.

"it's alright, my dear... you did perfect. you were just devine, and you've felt better than anything i've ever felt in all my years. rest, now. i will take care of the rest tomorrow."

your head hazy, your mind fuzzy with pleasure and your eyes heavy, you lay curled against him and finally get the much needed sleep.

the next morning, you wake up with a human, veined arm around your bare waist.

"there you are... you are too adorable in your sleep" a deep voice said from behind you, and you turned around, expecting to see the geo archon.

yet, you were faced with a man you knew all to well - the man you had deep feelings for ever since he first arrived in liyue harbour.

"mr. zhongli?!"

he hums out a laugh, tightening his hold on you.

"yes, if i'm correct, we've met in my human form a couple of times?"

you blush deeply, reminiscing on the few blissful times you talked to him. he was a very handsome, successful young man, with great wisdom and a clever mind - and you admired him very much, so much that you couldn't help but fall in love.

"you look dissapointed... are you not fond of me after finding out who i am?"

he asks, his gaze softening and looking almost saddened. you quickly reassure him:

"no, no, i'm not dissapointed! more like stunned.." you blush and he notices, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers.

"oh? why is that? i have always assumed we had a fairly good relationship, y/n. you have always been so nice to me"

"i.. i've had feelings for you for quite a while..." you say shyly, almost embarassed of the fact.

his lips curl into a genuinely happy smile, his arms pressing you closer to his bare chest.

"then everything turned out alright"

you smile, but everything suddenly dawns on you - that zhongli seemed to be okay with your feelings for him, that you almost died yesterday as a sacrifice, that zhongli is morax and most importantly, that oh, you fucked the geo archon, in his dragon form no less!

"am i pregnant now..?" you ask quietly, reminded that the act of a rut is mainly to breed and create off-spring. zhongli laughs at your question, leaving a quick peck on your forehead.

"no, most likely not. but you will be, in a few hundred years, once i have to go through this all over again" you almost choke on your own spit as he says this.

"but... i won't be alive in a few hundred years... you will have to find another to help you through this.."

as soon as you mention him sleeping with another woman his face turns into one of disgust, his strong arms gathering your entire body in his hold.

"as my mate, you will live as long as i do, and i'm immortal, my dear."

"your mate?!"

"yes. by helping me through my rut, you have become my mate. of course, only if that's what you wish" he says, pressing a loving kiss to your eyelid. "and do not worry, my dear, dragons mate for life"

he almost purrs into your warm skin, making a referance to what you said about him sleeping with another woman.

"...being your mate.." you sigh, cuddling into his chest.

"it's like what you humans call "relationship" except a stronger bond, sort of an unbreakable contract between the two of us. a forever promise of care, love and loyalty."

"i think i would like that" you humm into his chest, "but, let's take it a little slow?"

he kisses you full of warmth, his hands soothing your sides.

"of course, my dear. i will take you on a proper date when we get back. for now, just lay there and let me thank you properly for your help last evening..." he sighs as he kisses your shoulder over and over again.

yesterday at this time of day you were supposed to be nothing but a sacrifice to the geo lord, and now here you were, getting your body worshiped by him, forever safe and secure in his arms as his mate.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin smut #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli smut #zhongli fluff #dragon zhongli #smut #fluff #religious themes #female reader #requests open

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