Fic: Immortality (1/1) *R* Ginny/Voldemort
Title: Immortality
Author: Inell
Disclaimer: Rowling owns them all
Rating: R
Pairing: Ginny/Voldemort, mention of Hermione/Ginny
Summary: He is her darkness
Word Count: 890
Note: This was one of my holiday requests and I’m sure it sucks but I tried! That’s something, right? And it was not an easy pairing to attempt! Gah! *sheepish smile*
To melon_and_naga who requested Ginny/Voldemort, smut, romance, and angst. I tried! *hugs*
IMMORTALITY (1/1)
The sensations were overwhelming.
Smooth palms moving over freckled skin. Cool lips brushing against heated flesh. A flash of pain as fingernails scraped sensitive skin. The sheet beneath her was rough against her bare back, wet with sweat, sex, and blood. Bruises on her hips and breasts are proof of his need for her. The air was thick with the musky aroma of their combined release, the bitter scent of blood merging perfectly with the sweet smell of sex. The scent was intoxicating, pleasure coursing through her veins, joining the rush of power, passion, and desire that has been present since he found her. Again.
He is darkness. Frightening, enthralling, beautiful darkness. Forbidden. Immortal. Irresistible. She had tried to resist, at first. Ignoring the emptiness, the feeling of being incomplete, the desire for danger, to knowledge of pain and pleasure, the lure of something so taboo. He had waited patiently, coming to her in her dreams, calling her to him. His patience was rewarded after she turned seventeen. Love for her family, for her friends, it was no longer enough to distract her, to convince her that she was good and proper. She had been tainted by his darkness when she was eleven. He had claimed her then, young and handsome, charming and wicked. She was his and would always belong to him.
It had been three years since she had come to him willingly, since darkness had thoroughly claimed her. Her family, her friends, they made their own choices, far different than her own. Most of them were gone now, killed in battle or prisoners who wished for death. A wish that would soon be granted to most, she was certain. It was not enjoyable torturing those too weak to even scream properly much less those who had no hope, who were simply waiting for death. It would not be much longer before he finished them all, possibly letting his loyal followers choose a few pets from those not totally broken.
She did not need another pet, receiving first choice of the prisoners a year ago after the final battle resulted in Harry’s death and their triumph. Her pretty pet was not broken, her flesh unmarred save for bruising acquired during their play time when things got a bit rough, and she never would be broken in that sense. Her urges were satisfied in ways other than torture and torment, and when she had those urges, she visited the dungeons as she had this evening. No, her urges for her pet were far different than most. Sensual, sexual, challenge for control, biting, bruising, gentle caresses, and wet kisses, he enjoyed watching her play with her pet, often joining them.
She had chosen someone she had coveted during her youth, her attraction not dispelling despite her devotion to her dark Lord, a companion for the quiet times when he was otherwise occupied, a brilliant mind that still possessed an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and a wild spirit, passionate and stubborn despite the outcome of the War. Why would she need anyone else in her bed when she had Hermione and her dark Lord? They were everything she needed.
He entered her effortlessly, lips moving along her small breasts, teeth scraping her nipples. Her body arched off the bed at the force of his penetration, face twisted with the sweet combination of pleasure and pain. Her eyes found his, a brilliant scarlet that seemed to see into her very soul, his tongue moving along her lips before seeking entrance. They moved together, the dance familiar, her cunt gripping him tightly as he pulled his cock out of her before thrusting back inside, deep.
Her cry of release was guttural, eyes rolling back as her body convulsed around him. She was soon drenched with his come, a low moan that sounded almost like a growl spilling from his lips as he emptied inside her. Ginny watched him pull out of her and begin to dress. Her lips curved into a sated smile as she laid back against the pillows, brown eyes moving along the pale curves of his body, finding him beautiful even as others cringed upon seeing him. “Thank you, m’Lord.”
“I do hope that you are satisfied for the evening, dear girl, as I have meetings that I can not reschedule,” Voldemort said as he finished buttoning his robe. Leaning over, he caught her mouth in a possessive kiss before releasing her. “I will return in a few hours, Ginerva.”
Ginny watched him leave, her tongue moving along her lips and tasting him. Her body smelled of sweat and sex, covered in their combined release, the feel of danger and darkness still surrounding her. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her head, lips curving into a wicked smile as she demanded, “Hermione, come here. I’ve gotten all dirty and need to be cleaned up.”
Settling comfortably on the pillows, Ginny watched Hermione crawl towards her, amber eyes gleaming with lust, defiance, and hunger. She spread her legs, fingers moving along her wet lips, his come thick on her fingers as she began to touch herself while watching the still proud Muggleborn witch move towards her, nude body looking beautiful in the faint rays of moonlight. While he was her darkness, Hermione was her light. In them both, she found herself.
The End.
Author: Inell
Disclaimer: Rowling owns them all
Rating: R
Pairing: Ginny/Voldemort, mention of Hermione/Ginny
Summary: He is her darkness
Word Count: 890
Note: This was one of my holiday requests and I’m sure it sucks but I tried! That’s something, right? And it was not an easy pairing to attempt! Gah! *sheepish smile*
To melon_and_naga who requested Ginny/Voldemort, smut, romance, and angst. I tried! *hugs*
IMMORTALITY (1/1)
The sensations were overwhelming.
Smooth palms moving over freckled skin. Cool lips brushing against heated flesh. A flash of pain as fingernails scraped sensitive skin. The sheet beneath her was rough against her bare back, wet with sweat, sex, and blood. Bruises on her hips and breasts are proof of his need for her. The air was thick with the musky aroma of their combined release, the bitter scent of blood merging perfectly with the sweet smell of sex. The scent was intoxicating, pleasure coursing through her veins, joining the rush of power, passion, and desire that has been present since he found her. Again.
He is darkness. Frightening, enthralling, beautiful darkness. Forbidden. Immortal. Irresistible. She had tried to resist, at first. Ignoring the emptiness, the feeling of being incomplete, the desire for danger, to knowledge of pain and pleasure, the lure of something so taboo. He had waited patiently, coming to her in her dreams, calling her to him. His patience was rewarded after she turned seventeen. Love for her family, for her friends, it was no longer enough to distract her, to convince her that she was good and proper. She had been tainted by his darkness when she was eleven. He had claimed her then, young and handsome, charming and wicked. She was his and would always belong to him.
It had been three years since she had come to him willingly, since darkness had thoroughly claimed her. Her family, her friends, they made their own choices, far different than her own. Most of them were gone now, killed in battle or prisoners who wished for death. A wish that would soon be granted to most, she was certain. It was not enjoyable torturing those too weak to even scream properly much less those who had no hope, who were simply waiting for death. It would not be much longer before he finished them all, possibly letting his loyal followers choose a few pets from those not totally broken.
She did not need another pet, receiving first choice of the prisoners a year ago after the final battle resulted in Harry’s death and their triumph. Her pretty pet was not broken, her flesh unmarred save for bruising acquired during their play time when things got a bit rough, and she never would be broken in that sense. Her urges were satisfied in ways other than torture and torment, and when she had those urges, she visited the dungeons as she had this evening. No, her urges for her pet were far different than most. Sensual, sexual, challenge for control, biting, bruising, gentle caresses, and wet kisses, he enjoyed watching her play with her pet, often joining them.
She had chosen someone she had coveted during her youth, her attraction not dispelling despite her devotion to her dark Lord, a companion for the quiet times when he was otherwise occupied, a brilliant mind that still possessed an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and a wild spirit, passionate and stubborn despite the outcome of the War. Why would she need anyone else in her bed when she had Hermione and her dark Lord? They were everything she needed.
He entered her effortlessly, lips moving along her small breasts, teeth scraping her nipples. Her body arched off the bed at the force of his penetration, face twisted with the sweet combination of pleasure and pain. Her eyes found his, a brilliant scarlet that seemed to see into her very soul, his tongue moving along her lips before seeking entrance. They moved together, the dance familiar, her cunt gripping him tightly as he pulled his cock out of her before thrusting back inside, deep.
Her cry of release was guttural, eyes rolling back as her body convulsed around him. She was soon drenched with his come, a low moan that sounded almost like a growl spilling from his lips as he emptied inside her. Ginny watched him pull out of her and begin to dress. Her lips curved into a sated smile as she laid back against the pillows, brown eyes moving along the pale curves of his body, finding him beautiful even as others cringed upon seeing him. “Thank you, m’Lord.”
“I do hope that you are satisfied for the evening, dear girl, as I have meetings that I can not reschedule,” Voldemort said as he finished buttoning his robe. Leaning over, he caught her mouth in a possessive kiss before releasing her. “I will return in a few hours, Ginerva.”
Ginny watched him leave, her tongue moving along her lips and tasting him. Her body smelled of sweat and sex, covered in their combined release, the feel of danger and darkness still surrounding her. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her head, lips curving into a wicked smile as she demanded, “Hermione, come here. I’ve gotten all dirty and need to be cleaned up.”
Settling comfortably on the pillows, Ginny watched Hermione crawl towards her, amber eyes gleaming with lust, defiance, and hunger. She spread her legs, fingers moving along her wet lips, his come thick on her fingers as she began to touch herself while watching the still proud Muggleborn witch move towards her, nude body looking beautiful in the faint rays of moonlight. While he was her darkness, Hermione was her light. In them both, she found herself.
The End.