#minthara baenre x reader smut

[adaptacy]

The General Drow's Celebration {1/2}

Pairing: General!Minthara x Durge!AFAB!Reader

{Part 2}

Warnings/Tags: !!NSFW!! MDNI. BG3 Act II Heavy Spoilers. Minthara is, uh, evil. Exhibitionism, minor foodplay, bloodplay sorta (but its not either of yours), straight-up murder (also not either of you), general cultish things. Mention of poison. Part 1 doesn't include the actual smut but it will happen in part 2! Which I'll finish writing... eventually. Some Drow/Undercommon terms are used, I'm not super familiar I just looked shit up, there's a glossary thingy at the end. :)

Word Count: 3.4k

“Pitiful display. Bold of you to slight me so poorly. Your loyal fleet has been charged on account of your mistakes. Each throat slit. Yours is next.”

“Please, Nightwarden, you do not–”

“Silence,” she cuts back, crossing one of her legs over the other, her stern gaze intimidating even if it wasn’t backed by a history of bloodshed. “Abysmal absence of respect. Treacherous.”

“Shall we admit them to the cells?”

The drow snickers, waving her hand in a quick snap. “A waste that would be. We need the space for more valuable criminals. Slaughter the underling,” she commands, and the executioner raises the blade, but her palm lifts, and the order is paused. “No. Throw them to the shadows. Let them fend against the forsaken.”

“As you command, General,” the man replies, dipping his head and gathering up the chains that bind the betrayer’s wrists, dragging the pleading goblin out of the hall. 

At last, it is empty. The line of criminals, cultists, and true souls sorted through. Another day comes to an end with the drow on the throne, another day bearing the late Ketheric’s title, wielding his power, and fate spins along as it should, weaving her pristine web of influence. 

“General,” you hum, taking the opportunity to sit on the stone arm of her claimed throne, and she turns her head to look at you, a proud, passionate fire behind her eyes.

“Glorious, isn’t it, my love?” Minthara raises her hand and her slender fingers dance on your chin, feigning a gentle touch before she grips it, her thumb pressing into your jaw as she yanks you closer, her fanged grin growing. “Do you wish to taste the power?”

You smile in return, holding her gaze until she eyes your lips, the pride in the red of her eye soon joined by a similarly hued lust. You stay quiet for a few extra moments before finally responding. “I would like nothing more.”

Her tongue runs over her bottom lip before she pulls you closer, the kiss teasingly tender, and she breaks it in an instant. “Drink it in. My power is yours, dark one. Together, we reign.”

 You inch forward, attempting to meet her lips again, but her grip grows more firm, and she forces you to remain stationary. “Nobody else is here,” you whisper, glancing between her lips and her eyes, and her gaze lifts to yours as she smirks.

“Precisely. How shall I lay claim to my property without an audience? You are too exquisite to be concealed,” she whispers, her words catching on your lips, her breath only serving to tease you further. You feel the faint sting of her poison, and it only drives you to deepen your yearning. “Tonight, we will feast. A new age of True Souls shall be celebrated. And I will claim you before our guests. You will be desired by all, but earned only by me. My slayer. My pet. My oloth.”

“He would be proud,” you praise, inching closer to her with your body, though your head remains still. 

“I’m inclined to agree. A shame his sacrifice was a necessity. As is the cycle of hierarchy,” she states, releasing your chin, but pulling her own head away before you have a chance to take advantage of the freedom of movement. “We will coddle a new generation of warriors. Not with affection, but dedication. Swaddle them in viscera and nurse them to victory.”

“We’ll raise a force of blood-bringers,” you agree, and Minthara smirks, huffing out an amused exhale.

“Blood-bringers. A marvelous title for a marvelous army.” The drow presses her palms to the stone arms and pushes herself up, standing before the empty room. “Sine Thelids, we will be.” You feel an uncanny itch in your palms, and you shift uncomfortably. Your tadpole squirms, and Minthara lowers her head, sensing your edge. “Control, my slayer. We will march soon. The world will be ours – all thralls along with it. You will have your vengeance, and I shall have mine. Havoc will come to Orin, but it is the blood-bringers she will fear.” 

“We will claim her life,” you second, standing up as well and joining her side, watching her as she looks over the empty throne room. Many times, she’s been seated off to the side. Only ever gazing at the throne that Ketheric so often sat in. With your help, however, her placement had changed. Rightfully, she had taken his power, his lead, just as you had helped her take his life. Ketheric was the first to fall, but he would not be the last. 

“They shall bow to us. Each and every one. Extinguish their lives, and ignite their influence. We will be almighty,” she purrs, her chin tilting up ever so slightly, red eyes scanning the room one final time before she turns back to you, and holds out her hand. “Come. We must prepare for the banquet.” 

It came as no surprise that Minthara had already planned an outfit for you; she had a plan for the banquet, and she intended to follow it through perfectly. That required your cooperation, even in the slightest of details. You weren’t complaining – it was a fine choice she’d made. Less surprising still was the nature of the clothing. 

A personally tailored leather clasp for a neck piece, attaching to a particularly revealing shirt, cut with a wide triangle down the middle of your torso, leaving little to the imagination. You didn’t mind. Chances are, nothing would be left to the imagination by the end of the gathering, so you were going to take what you could get. 

You clean yourself up of any lingering grime from the day, enjoying a short but relaxing bath before dressing yourself up in the clothes she had prescribed to you. Once you’re sure that you’re ready, you make your way downstairs to the audience hall, where Minthara waits at the bottom of the stairs, her hand offered to you as you approach. 

It would be an understatement to say that suppressing a smile was difficult – pitted against her appearance, your physical display of enjoyment was far out of your control. Minthara was the type to look good in anything, though she usually stuck to her usual dark drow armor and her black, rigid evening clothes. 

Tonight, however, was special. Her outfit reflected that in a way that almost took you by surprise. 

Both of you were well-aware of the possibility of an attack. Not an attack on Moonrise, not an attack on The Absolute, but an attack on Minthara – with Ketheric the unkillable now, against all odds, gone and dead, there was sure to be turmoil between the higher ranking members of the cult. Minthara had been the one to dethrone him, to rob him of his power and his breath, and thus she had claimed his authority. 

Not everyone was so willing to allow such an opportunity to slip out of their grasp. Z’rell had been taken care of even before Ketheric, as she posed the most significant threat. A few others, too – mostly those who had previously disrespected Minthara, made to pay their dues in the light of her new title. 

Tonight, she would feast with potential enemies. Betrayers. She may feast with attempted assassinations, and it was unlikely the night would sail without bloodshed. 

You did not expect a full suit of armor, but you had expected something more protective than the clothing she had decided upon. Her upper arms and shoulders were well-guarded with black leather shells, attaching to an equally thick leather that ran down her sides, though where defense mattered most – her abdomen, the simplest and most lethal place to strike – her purple skin was left revealed to the world. 

Her legs were wrapped comfortably in black pants, and you know immediately that this is not an oversight on her part. Hardly so. It is a test. An offering – an opportunity for her silent enemies, her weakest spot left vulnerable to their hunger for power, a surefire bait. Minthara had not forgotten about her endangerment. She embraced it. Welcomed it. Challenged it.

“It fits,” she states, smirking as you take her hand in your own and step carefully down the final few steps, allowing her to drink in your appearance just as you had soaked in hers. “A good thing. I wish no harm upon our tailor – I have already removed his tongue, but I suspect he may need his fingers to continue his work. A troublesome ordeal seeking out a new tailor would prove,” she chuckles. 

You turn to face her, and she takes your other hand as well, her red eyes judging your expression. “You look nice as well, General,” you praise, not bothering to hide your wandering gaze as you trail over her chest, the bra piece more than familiar to you. You dare to lift a finger, pulling your hand from hers, and snake it under the band over her sternum, pulling it down ever so slightly, your temptation getting the best of you. 

Her slender fingers trace up your wrist, wrapping around and pulling your hand up to her mouth, pressing her lips to the back of it. “We shall be objects of desire tonight. Some may see vulnerability. It is in that liability we find our strength. Neither harm nor pleasure shall be brought upon you unless it is by my hand. That is an assurance.”

“They worship our power. Soon, our bodies alongside it, yes?” You ask, and Minthara smirks again, giving your hand another kiss. 

“Our power. Our lethality. Our bodies. And we will worship one another.” At last, she releases your hand, and it returns to your side, though she still holds the other one. Gently – hardly afraid of losing you, or allowing you opportunity to slip away, for she knows you are hers, and she is yours. It is for that same reason that you don’t tighten your grip around her fingers. There is ample security and assurance without the need for a strong hold. Her gaze shifts to large wooden double doors, where light shines through the crack at the bottom. “Our squadron awaits. Ah,” – Minthara tilts her head – “Our blood-bringers.” 

Providing a controlled nod in response, she leads you into the banquet hall, the table already arranged with the offerings of a feast, and ‘True Souls’ line the longer sides of the table, and at the head there are two empty chairs. Empty, that is, until Minthara guides you towards them, and you take a seat at one while she stands in front of the one beside you, releasing your hand in order to address the group. 

You know everyone stationed at the table, though you aren’t quite familiar with all of them. You know each person’s name, but not everyone’s current rank, or how they served Ketheric during his reign. Those who you do immediately recognize consist of The Warden, who’s standing remains unchanged, the halfling Linsella, who has been granted an increase in authority, with Minthara permitting her reign over verified prisoners and hostages, allowing her to convert said captives as she pleases. Sitting two seats to your left is the skilled spy Marcus, who you recall once yearned to be the right-hand of the late general. As far as you’re aware, he has remained a mere spy, but high in the ranks nonetheless. 

“A waste of precious time it would be, were I to spare words of mourning for Thorm,” Minthara announces, all eyes pinned on her, save for yours. “He served well, but he serves no more. I plan no delegation over the loss. We move forward, as the Absolute commands,” she continues, and the True Souls each dip their heads, murmuring out quiet agreements; ‘In Her name.’

She does well to hide the truth. You have always admired her, both for her prevalence in battle and her combined willingness and capability to achieve further power where she sees possibility. Few manage to look past morals as she does, few are as earnestly eager as she is with their dreams. 

Her faith was crushed, the truth revealed in ways that would desecrate any other’s ambition, had they been in her shoes. Alas, she is Minthara of house Baenre, and she seizes opportunity the moment it presents itself. With one stone in her grasp, and an oblivious, willing army at her disposal, she poses a far larger threat to the other chosen than they may have ever thought possible. 

“You sit in his throne,” A man speaks up, two chairs to your left – Marcus, the spy, “You serve his meals, you command his troops, and yet you disrespect his name wholly.” He speaks with a growl, and dares to rise, making his intentions clear to the room, his target included. 

Minthara pulls her torso back, and she meets his eye, her palms resting flat on the table. No longer hidden beneath the table, a greatclub is grasped tightly in his right hand, his knuckles tinted white from the tension in his hold. “Ketheric disrespected his name to far greater lengths than I would ever have the words to manage. And so creatively, too,” she chuckles, her tone brimming with clear-cut confidence, and although you attempt to reassure yourself, you feel your heart skip a beat, momentarily silently fearing for her safety. You see no daggers, no means of defense on her person, and yet she smiles all the same. 

Marcus scoffs, grimacing, leaning towards the drow, the fire in his eyes fueled entirely by resentment. “Attempt no trickery by mouth – Our General wanted you disposed of, and I intend to carry out his orders as my final judgment by the Absolute.” 

“Pathetic. Loyalty to a dead man serves no greater purpose – only a grave.” Minthara sneers, her next words joined by a tone of stable, smooth mockery, “Do you expect him to rise again? Fulfill his wishes, and his head will roll back onto the neck I severed it from? The Absolute has already judged you well and true. I’m afraid your devotion is tardy. Had you served him so faithfully while his corpse was animate, perhaps he may have led a longer rule. Alas, I shall reward your allegiance, and reunite you with your Bossk.”

Marcus’ scowl pulls wrinkles in his forehead, his arm twitching – the split-second jerk being movement enough to warn Minthara of his next move. He charges, raising his greatclub, eyes pinning a target on her skull. You’re not granted a chance to so much as flinch before Minthara retrieves a dagger from its place in a sheath attached to the bottom of the table, raising her arm as the blade is precisely swiped across the man’s throat, spraying the immediate area in his blood. 

That immediate area being you, Minthara, the two True Souls sitting closest, and part of the prepared meal on the table. 

The spy’s body falls with a final gurgle, and Minthara spins her blade to capture it in a firmer grip, her blood-kin gaze serving a silent order to the stunned audience. “Rath’arg. Do any other false believers wish to challenge me? To take my head would be a grant of my authority. Do strike now, daring lambs, for tonight I am willing to grant mercy and bestow quick deaths upon traitors.”

Her breath is steady – she is not tense, but firm, and the True Souls exchange glances with one another, each and every one remaining silent and submissive. Though her fine attire is splattered with the blood of a betrayer, she remains unphased. True to her mission, allowing no room for distractions, nor for doubt. 

When she is assured, she sets her dagger on the table beside her, and she dips her head. “Very well. Feast, warriors, for we need our strength. In Her name,” she states, her eyes closing for only a moment. 

“In Her name,” the party recites, beginning to indulge themselves in the food less affected by the close death, but Minthara turns instead to you, her own personal repast, free from the intermingling of her underlings. The True souls speak, quietly, amongst one other – discussing the Absolute, the rise of their new General, and similar such topics. 

Her bloodied purple hand is offered to you, and you accept, rising from your seat at her physical request. Few eyes are drawn to you, for the time being – you don’t bother to take count, to truly decipher how many pay attention to your activities. Minthara pulls you closer, her free hand cradling your jaw and wiping Marcus’ blood from your lips, allowing her to kiss you without risking a taste of the coward. For a short moment, the contact is broken, and her nose brushes with yours, gaze intense with a roused lust from the bloodshed. “However intense our reign may become, however great our influence grows, know that at the center of my drive is where you lie. You are mine, as I am yours. We are bound as one – in body, in soul, in power.” There’s a pause in which you make an attempt to reconnect your lips, but she pulls back, her mouth instead moving towards your ear, her tone lowering to a whisper, ensuring only you may receive her message. “Bow as we may to the Absolute, pray as we may to their lies, you are my true quar'valsharess. My deity, and mine alone.”

Knowing how much she risks by admitting that in a room full of the Absolute’s followers, however quiet of an admission it was, is more than enough to make your heart flutter, stomach pleasantly uneased by a disturbance of butterflies. You pivot as a hand on your hip guides you to press your back against the edge of the table, and the dishes behind you are pushed aside, likely much to the dismay of the nearest True Souls. Minthara’s lips trail over your lightly bloodied neck, no longer caring whether or not the blood invades her taste, merely enjoying the flavor of her success on your skin. 

While she delivers no verbal commands or physical guidance, you understand her intentions well enough to assist her in carrying them out. So, you lift yourself onto your ankles and hop just enough to steady yourself on the table, immediately finding that she invades the space between your legs, bringing her hips closer to yours. Her kisses continue to trail down, littering every available space that her selected clothing allows her to access. Hands run along your sides, caressing over the full length twice before they linger on the sliver of skin between the top and bottom pieces of your outfit. When her mouth reaches that section as well, your leather pants are dragged downward, shedding her territory of protection, vulnerable to her touch – to her command. 

When they bunch at your knees, thighs against the wooden table, your only means of defense being your thin, weak layer of underwear, Minthara pauses, standing up straight once more. A hand presses to your chest, pushing you backwards, though your hips remain stationary – you lay back, displayed across the bloodied feast as if you were one with it. All eyes are on you, now, but Minthara’s attention is the only attention that matters to you. Even if you don’t threaten to disobey or refuse, her palm is firm on your chest, forcing you to keep position. 

“True Souls,” she addresses, instantly gaining the room’s undivided interest. “Speak my title.”

“General Minthara,” the audience replies, and her smirk grows, revealing flashes of her hungry teeth. 

Louder, she repeats; “Speak my title.”

“General Minthara!”

Her hand slides up your body, finding purchase around your throat, and she meets your gaze, her prideful smile meant entirely for you. “Tonight, we celebrate two deaths. The death of Late General Thorm, and the death of The Nightwarden. Indulge in the wine and feast as you deem fit – a rebirth occurs this evening. A rebirth of values. A rebirth of power. A rebirth of The Absolute.” Her gaze lifts, meeting the intrigued smiles of her soldiers. “Hear the testament of my reign – straight from the voice of darkness,” Minthara chuckles, eyes drawn once more to you. “Speak my title, dear oloth.” 

With a lustful smile, you oblige; “General Minthara.” 

“General Minthara,” she agrees, leaning over the table to meet your lips, hand tightening around your throat, robbing you of breath in the two ways she knows best. 

(1) Oloth – Darkness (Drow) (2) Sine Thelid – Great Conqueror (Undercommon) (3) Bossk – Lord (Undercommon) (4) Rath’arg – Coward (Drow) (5) Quar’valsharess – Goddess (Drow)

[kyberphilosopher]

Kneel

Smut. My first ever straight smut. A little bit of angst and fluff if you really squint but it's really just disgusting lesbian smut. You'll have to tell me how I did because this is the only blatantly sexual thing I've written. Welcome back, me! I think I found this gif on Tumblr but I'm not sure who to credit for it so hopefully it does it automatically idk just enjoy. Warning(s): SEX (18+) (acts of fingering, cunnilingus, scissoring, etc.) Reader is strictly female anatomy. Not proof read.

Word Count: 4191

"Do not kneel," Minthara's gravelly voice rang lowly by your ear. Your knees buckled at the sensation of her inside of you, her fingers slender and gentle.

Although you certainly would've found it more comfortable to indeed kneel, sit, or lay, Minthara's muscles held you back. Her arm wrapped tight across your shoulders, pressing your back into your chest, kept you upright. It kept you near her, so she was sure you could hear her, and there would be no excuse for disobedience- which Minthara detested.

The Nightwarden's other hand was settled deep within your little pussy, which Minthara held no negative feelings for whatsoever. By the low purr reverberating from her sternum, you wondered briefly if there was any chance she was getting more pleasure out of the experience than yourself. Then, you feel the tips of her fingers rub high against something inside of you. Something inside your flooding hole that excites you, causing you to shiver and arch into your lover. Minthara knows. She felt you tighten around her digits involuntarily- and she likes it. 

Your vision blurs slightly through the pleasure. Both Minthara’s eyes as well as your own are half lidded in lust. It feels sloppy. You can feel the dirt move under each of your boots, hear the sounds of laughter from the cackling fire just a little around the corner. The night, once fierce and biting, is no match to Minthara’s passion and ambition, and you do not shiver in the cold but in the heat. 

“Fuck,” you manage to quiet as it slips from your teeth. Minthara’s hand slows inside you, trading three fingers for a simple two that drag in and out. Her third finger is so happy to be acquainted with your body that it takes a few seconds to slide free from your hole with a cute little ‘pop!’ that causes the drow’s breath to hitch. 

“Yes,” she hears herself beckoning to you. Her intense red eyes fall from the side of your jaw and neck, to further below. The woman observes over your breasts and down your stomach, settling excitedly on the sight of her lilac hand in your trousers. The sound of your breathing mixed with the stretch of your body is causing Minthara’s own reaction, now. The Nightwarden feels her nipples grow stiff against your skin. With a controlled groan, Minthara presses her breasts further into you for some kind of relief, which you are quick to give. You please Minthara as you roll your head to the side, exposing your neck and submitting yourself to the woman further. One of your own hands slips upwards to caress Minthara’s skin behind you, welcoming her further into you. 

From up ahead, the party revels in a particularly loud bout of laughter. The light of the fire danced rapidly over your little camp. If it weren’t for Minthara’s desire to be away from others, the two of you would never have such an opportunity. Hells, if someone were to decide to check in on the two of you and simply turn the corner, hoping to make their way to the drows’ tent, it’d be over. There was certainly a fear inside of you that worried the light would somehow expose your doings, but Minthara did not seem worried. 

“Faster,” you whisper to her as your eyes focus on the direction of loud, distant joy. 

Minthara’s pale fingers continue in their place. They fill and refill you again and again, and although you know your pussy revels in such a delight, it’s not enough. You wanted Minthara right down to her evil, rotting core. You wanted her covering you, stretching you out as you listened to her voice praise and degrade you. You wanted the flaming heat that motivated her very being- the one in her chest that put her ambition at the center of all things. There was a part of you that, selfishly, wanted to harness and own it. 

“Patience,” Minthara urges, dangerously. “I will go at the speed I see fit.”

She accentuates her final word with a particularly intense pump into you. Butterflies fly from your loins to your belly, your hips circling instinctively. A quick moan even leaves your mouth at the sensation, dropping your lips apart. 

“Take it,” Minthara continues, her eyes lingering back upwards to your face. “Take it.” 

You’re so wet. There’s no doubt you’ve coated and pruned the woman’s fingers with the little gift between your legs. You wish you could apologize for such disrespect, but Minthara would punish you. She liked the way your slick dribbled down your thighs and over her palms. She liked how that tight, little pussy eagerly begged for more from her when you would never admit it. 

Your own outstretched hand strokes over Minthara’s collarbones lazily, unable to see her from this position. While her skin is soft and smooth, it is also littered with scars. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out once more, finally closing your eyes all the way. You give in to your own bodies desires, like a naive child who hasn’t thought enough about their deal with a devil. Minthara was your devil- your only devil or vice- and the image of her was flashing through your mind faster than a spell. You could see her supple breasts, cleavage glistening as her fingers danced over a nipple. You could see her other hand, a little shyer, slowly easing down to her toned thighs. Then, they ease past, and settle in a spot that you can only imagine is warm.  

“Let me see those tits,” you whisper out to her. Ahead of yourself, you’re already beginning to turn as you finish your sentence. 

Usually, Minthara would never let you get away with such insubordination. She was a somewhat straightforward woman, and she found she quite enjoyed the thought of having complete control over you. She was strong enough, certainly, but she only wished she were taller so that she might pick you up more. Tonight, however, the flow and intimacy was just… too good to let go. Your skin was so warm and accepting of hers. Your hair smelled sweet and safe, given the circumstances of how you were living. Your body… firm where Minthara liked bodies firm and soft where she liked them soft. She lets you break from her grasp and twist your head til it accommodates your noses for a kiss. 

Minthara’s lips are thin, but soft. They meld against yours, binded by secrecy from your friends and duty, intimately asking you to give in. You do, and as you relax, feel the wet muscle of the tongue prod at your own. Delicious. 

You kiss her, Minthara’s tongue swirling over your own playfully. You’re breathing into her mouth, humming all the moans you can’t set free while your right hand wanders over her shoulder. The woman felt so damn good on you- in you. You can feel the spit that slides between your mouths, shared and stringy. 

With a soft smirk you thought you hid well, the hand on her shoulders raises. She watches, like stone, as your index finger gathers a string of saliva connecting your lips. You admire it for a moment, gooey and glistening, before you swipe it over the imprint of Minthara’s right nipple. 

A beat of silence passes. 

You dive close for one more kiss from her lips, satisfied, before turning your attention towards her breasts once more. This time, your fingers slide past the thin fabric of her camp tunic and happily dance across the swollen, violet, hill. Minthara lets you expose her body with a smirk. Her tits, while paired with an athletic and sturdy body, bounced and seemed only to continuously invite you to play with them. One hand of yours cups each of her boobs, reveling in the squish- in the warmth. “Let me…” your voice comes out hoarse, almost begging. 

Minthara’s smirk only deepens. Her eyes lower to your own cleavage with pride. She knew that she owned you, she owned your pretty pussy and the pretty tits she was pawing at with one hand. “Have you been good?” she replied back. Her index and middle finger roll over the bud at the center of the nipple, the most sensitive part, and pinch. 

A dirty move.

“Let you what, dear thing?” Minthara cocks a brow. You feel her nails tracing your other breast now too, and if she wasn’t careful, you weren’t going to let her hand ever leave it. She pinches and tortures your tits once more, this time both of them. 

You sigh, attempting to pull her closer. “Feels good,” you admit, only then realizing your left hand grabs at the skin of her ass. Your right hands’ fingers are lost in pools of spit that only spread further over her breast as you palm them greedily. They filled your hands just right, just how her hands filled your hole. 

“Tell me,” Minthara demands, pinching and twisting again. Nerves shoot up your spine and to your brain, making you feel alive. You wanted to rut against her now more than ever. You wanted to feel her hot, drenched folds against your own, against your lips and your tongue. You wanted to taste and lick every inch of the Nightwarden’s body, to taste her sweat and practically suck it clean from the inside of her thighs. 

“Feels fucking good.”

“Mm,” Minthara hums through closed eyes. You can feel her breath fan over her face. It makes wisps of her pale hair flow in the light of the divine. “That’s it. You’re being so… agreeable.” 

Your lips dart forward, catching her own. Feminine, wet, the two of you can hear only the sounds of the party and the excitement of the other. You press your tits tight up against hers, your nipples touching briefly. Each of you hiss in reaction, but you don’t stop your attempt to grind on her. You need something there, something filling you. You want her fingers back, but she would never be so kind as to give you exactly what you want. You want her to handle a toy on you, to watch her sadistic face twist as she fills you up, but you have a feeling she’d be jealous. You know what you want, though not how to get there. Your Nightwarden would know though, wouldn’t she?

“Fuck me,” you sigh into her shining lips. “Please fuck me, baby.”

Minthara arches a brow. She likes many things about you, but she loves to hear you beg. She likes you desperate, wanting, needy. It disgusts her like a bug under her shoe, but she won’t crush you. She wants to crush you. Minthara desires, greatly, to tie you up under her and allow her to have her way with you. To press a finger to the pretty hole of your ass while her other hand pets over your clit repeatedly, just to show you it was okay. 

“I didn’t hear you,” she insists, almost angrily. 

Desperately, you let your tongue kitten lick over her collarbone once. “Fuck me, baby. Fill me up. I want it. I’ll take it.”

“I know you will take it.”

It sounds like a threat. 

Minthara continues. “You will be good for me, yes?”

You open your eyes, holding eye contact with the ruby orbed beauty. “I’ll be so good for you, Nightwarden.”

Minthara’s hand slaps your ass with a sharp jolt that makes you squeal. Instantly, you grin as her hand squishes your cheeks together, seizing your face in her hand powerfully in her own attempt to silence you. “Good girl,” she tells you, slowly. Her eyes, red and heated, hold yours intently. “Now shut the fuck up.”

You nod once in understanding, but can’t help another wave of satisfaction rolling over you at Minthara’s hold on you, at her words, at her sentiment. Seemingly full of naughty decisions tonight, a loose finger of your own creeps gently down Minthara’s trousers. You feel her heat instantly. Greed, it seems, must be some sort of a transferable trait that melts from her and drenches you. 

“Just let me taste it,” you manage to whine through the constrict of her hand. 

Minthara’s face snakes closer to yours. “You cannot even tell me what it is you wish to taste,” she counters. “Do you wish to taste these?” Minthara places her free hand to her breast, giving it a tight squeeze. “Do you wish to taste this?” Now, she pulls your hand from her protruding clit and replaces it with her own. 

“All of it,” you submit. “Please, all of it, Nightwarden.”

“Beg me!” she hisses under her breath. Beneath her trousers, you can see the form of her hand swirling erratically. 

“I want it,” you pant. “Please, Mommy. Please let me eat your fucking hole. I’ll be so good I swear-”

Minthara tugs your hair down sharply. It hurts, unappreciated, and Minthara passes you a soothing look for an apology. “That’s it,” she tells you, untying her trousers. “You may kneel. Mmm… yes- there. Now, you may eat my pussy until I release you. Do you understand, girl?”

You smile, and Minthara doesn’t let on that it melts her heart as she watches you nod, eagerly. Always so eager. Always so good. 

Minthara settles her eyes ahead, trying to anticipate what the group might do. The relationship she’d managed to form with you was a secret from the outside- which really meant anyone who wasn’t you or herself. She hated the thought of Astarion striding in, asking to join. Or Wyll, on that white shining steed, who would’ve slain you both on the spot. Nobody seemed to quite like Minthara except for you, which was obvious as your tongue delved deep into her cunt. 

She tasted… well, wet. You could lap your tongue anyway you liked, and it would still taste just as good. Incredible. You could smell the sweat and sex leaking off of her like a hound, and it was only spurring you on. You slow your muscle to lick straight, long lines against Minthara’s sex that pull shakes from her knees. Looking up at her, you’re already met with her heavenly, piercing gaze as she watches you. Nightwarden Minthara was getting off to your image like pornography, like some personal, vulgar plaything. Both of you liked that. 

Minthara’s eyes shine as she watches your body adjust. Your back arches into an inward curve so that she can see the shapely swell of your butt- looks like a heart. Always the epitome of self control, Minthara hums a groan again at the sight. “Yes,” she praises. “Like that.”

Your palms snake up around the back of her legs and to the flesh of her ass. You push her into you with the leverage, soaking up her delicious pussy. It was warm on your tongue. Sweet. Almost a fruity, dominating flavor. Fitting, really. When you moan into the tight cunt you’re currently feasting on, the owner's lips fall open. 

Yes. 

The satisfaction is like a drug. You want another reaction from Minthara, and another, and another. Party be damned. Do tell, you wondered, what would Gale of Waterdeep do exactly, should he find the two of you tangled up like this? Why not find out?

You moan louder into Minthara’s pussy happily. The muscle of your mouth prods Minthara’s entrance curiously, before pushing inside. Your Nightwarden’s back arches- you grip down into her flesh to keep her steady as her own hands similarly clutch at your head. 

“You are so well to your Master,” you hear the woman above you breathe out. You don’t stop, you don’t think. Your tongue begins to ache from the repetition and the somewhat awkward angle, but the taste and smell of Minthara is overpowering. Her sweat runs down her thighs and drips unto you- addictive. 

“It’s my turn,” she suddenly decides. Minthara’s hand pushes your head from her form, and your tongue follows her desperately as you watch her. She kisses you once more, a little slower than before, but no less sloppy. 

“I’m not done,” you pant to her through closed eyes. 

“Oh?” you hear your lover respond. “You are not even a little curious what I may have for you?”

You giggle and bite down on her bottom lip, harshly. “I think I know what you have for me,” you coo. “Cute little fucking box…”

Minthara pushes you til your back hits the ground. While biting your lip in excitement, you twist around briefly to make sure nobody is coming. With the coast clear, Minthara places one of her hands on either side of you, climbing over top. Her body looked good- muscular and strong despite the recoil of her asscheeks. At the sight, you cannot help but order your own hand to spank her. The sudden sound elicits a quiet moan from both of you.

Minthara’s lips dabble against your own once more. They were somewhat swollen by now from being kissed out, and shiny from being coated with saliva. You could see the little indents of your teeth where you’d bit down on her (which had not been enough to draw blood and would surely end in some sort of punishment for you on another night) and shivered under your lover. 

Nightwarden Minthara pulls away from you, though not far. A hand of hers reaches over your near neglected tits and gives one a lustful palming. You bite your lip. “It’s sore,” you explain. “You’ve pinched them too hard.”

Minthara’s expression changes to an annoyed one. “I have not done a thing to you so hard as I would like,” she said. You swallow. “Though, that can be changed. If I wish to feel your features…” Minthara playfully slapped at your breast, still wet with spit, “...I will. If I wish to use your little box in however way that I desire… I will.”

You watch Minthara stand over you, straight over your face. The view is practically holy, gazing up at the drows cunt, still slick and dripping with your previous services to her. You wish for nothing more than for her to simply take her rightful seat. You know how much she likes a throne. 

Minthara seems to hear your mental cries as she lowers herself down. At first, her pussy indeed fills your face well. You can smell it all, can feel how easy it is to simply reach up with your tongue and feel every inch of her, from ass to clit. But you notice the Nightwarden hovering ever so slightly over you, balancing on her own feet and knees. No, this won’t do. With a moan of relief that you bury deeper into her hole, your hands grasp at the skin of her buttocks once more and pull it to your face. Minthara sits suddenly, releasing a moan you never thought she’d let herself sing. Her full weight on you, you still yourself and push your tongue deeper, searching for any drop of pussy juice you might’ve missed. 

“Good,” Minthara praises above you. “That’s so… good.” A little moan serves in response, switching yourself to short, quick laps that go no further than shallow in her cunt. Her body swallows them, hot to the touch. “Yes,” you hear her continue. 

You’re so lost in her raspy, layered voice that you don’t notice her shifting over you. So lost in the feelings of her desire you’d almost forgotten of your own, and so the sudden jump as you feel a tongue along your swollen clit is most satisfying to the Nightwarden. You continue licking and lapping at the paladin, as if it were your own oath to fulfill, but Minthara doesn’t stop there. She licks once more, gently, over the bundle of nerves as you buck into her. 

It’s almost a continuous cycle for a few moments. You, moaning desperately up into Minthara’s pussy; Minthara, swelling with pride as she feels how loyal you are to her. What a good, loyal girl you are to your Nightwarden. The two of you tighten up around the same time, only exciting the other even further. 

A feeling tickled in the drows belly. It was light and airy, and it came from your tongue every time you pushed it back inside of her hole. Minthara was so turned on by how wet it was, how dirty it all was. You, literally eating her cunt in the dirt without complaints…

Minthara doesn’t stop herself. She takes her final, savoring lap at the top of your yummy cunt and sits upwards. Her ass presses further into you at this, pussy practically suffocating your mouth as you feel her thighs squeeze. Her muscles stiffen, hips drawing tight little circles. You know what’s coming. Smiling, you squeeze her closer to you once more, forcing your tongue as deep as you can possibly place it. 

Nightwarden Minthara shakes as she cums over your mouth. 

Her walls are tight over your tongue. You feel a warm rush of wetness wash over you, moaning at the sensation. However good Minthara’s arousals tasted, her cum tasted five times better. It was sweeter, and there was so much of it, you couldn’t help but be pleased with not only her, but yourself. As the spasms of her orgasm begin to slow, you ease your tongue into a coy, licking motion once more. A loving, cleaning act. 

Minthara takes herself from you, though there’s no rush. As soon as her body lifts from your own, her lilac hands are on you once more. 

“You are not satisfied, Nightwarden?” you smirk, shaking your head. Behind you, you can hear the group's festivities continue on, unbothered by the whole ordeal. Someone was playing their lyre, and by the shadows that flitted over the light, several people had taken to drunken dancing. “Not when I’ve already given you so much?”

“You are a brat,” Minthara says, matter of factly. “And you are foolish for thinking I do not know when you have more to give.”

Minthara lowered herself closer to your aching sex, taking a long inhale and staring a moment before spreading her legs open. “Stay where you are,” she barks. “Do not move, unless I instruct you to do so.”

You nod. 

Minthara swings her toned across her body as leverage. You’re confused, never seeing such a move from the woman and failing to see the sexual advantage of such. In an instant, your lover quells these questions, pressing her sopping, freshly orgasmed cunt against your own. You try not to moan out at the sensation- succeeding at the sight of Minthara’s warning stare. But then, your Nightwarden is rubbing her hips- her pussy- against the raw flesh of your own that it distracts you. It’s hitting that sensitive nub once again, repeating the motion in the way she knows just how you like. 

“Take it,” she urges a second time for the night, leaning closer to your lips. “Take it like the good girl you are.”

“Minthara…” you half moan, half warn. 

She only speeds up the pace and intensity in response. 

Your hand reaches up to play with the flesh of her boob as she touches you. She puts both of her palms on the sides of your hips for leverage, so she might pull you back against her quickly as she grinds against you. The position is new and unfamiliar, and when she bumps you the wrong way, raw against your skin. But the way that Minthara grips you, the sight of her equally blissed and concentrated purely on fucking you… your little pussy… well…

“Minthara,” you moan. “Fuck!”

Minthara fucks her pussy into yours vigorously. A sensation builds in the pit of your tummy, growing- begging for attention. Minthara pours hers into it without question, using her own clit to pleasure yours. She must feel you twitch and cum before you do, because before you can even warn her, you lock eyes as you cum. 

Minthara slows immediately, taking in your face as she grinds long, drawing circles with her hips on yours. Your orgasm tightens you- your toes curling, hands balling to fists, lips opening as your back arches. Minthara spits over your tits at the sight, only hoping to prolong your pleasure as she rubs the saliva across your chest. 

You don’t know how long it takes you to come back. It seems only to rip through your system, igniting every nerve in your body like a firework and blinding your vision. You couldn’t describe the pleasure, you never could when you were with Minthara, but she always left you with a wholly, complete feeling and satisfaction. 

The woman watches her nipples begin to soften. She sees the cum leaking out of your hole like golden elixir and turns her attention elsewhere. A second round would surely get the two of you caught. 

You place your clothes back on silently, as usual, before returning to the party. They did not catch the last glance of longing you and your Nightwarden shared, in their happy, drunken state.

*I am 20 years old and by no means a minor*

[bonkwrites]

A Life Cleric and a Spider

Had to write some smut for my beloved Minnie.

Minthatra loves her life cleric. Nothing more should need to be said other than that. But there is so much more to her cleric than healing hands and a fiercely protective nature. Now that they're settled in Wyrm's Crossing, an are outside of Baldur's Gate filled with temples including the one Minthara's cleric tends to in the name of her Goddess Selune, they have more time to themselves. 

Minthara takes a trip into the city without her darling and the sun lit city bears fruitful in surprises for her cleric. There are of course other things to be tended to– a visit with a blacksmith, a stifling shop of potions, and a small but crowded bookstore where Minthara has always found her guilty pleasure of romantic tomes. 

“Minnie~!” You sing her private nickname as you close the door. Your staff leans on the wall by the door as you pull of your boots. The fire is lit, the winter kept beyond the windows. 

“Hello, ussta quortek.” Minthara leans her head back on the couch, eyes dipped to look at you as you approach. There's something stressed on your face as you come to settle in her lap. 

She never tires of your plush thigh atop hers, your full breath, your rounded curves… but that little pull between your eyebrows is pampering her appreciation. 

“You are troubled.” Minthara says. 

“It is only…” you wave your hand, “Harron.” 

That snake. He worms his way into your goddesses temple, under the light of her moon, and he seeks aid. Except he does not seek aid, he seeks only to undermine you. You. Her darling, the savior of Selune's devoted follower Shadowheart from your mistresses sworn enemy. Selune honored you herself with her daughter's fearsome presence, with the presentation of the glave you now carry. 

“He has spread lies of my heroism against the Nightsinger.” You admit it with embarrassment, with shame and pain. “The other Selunites do not believe him– but to turn him away is to move against Selune. We cannot turn away a hand in need.” 

“But he is not in need.” Minthara says, adjusting you to leave your thighs spread across yours, on top of her. She strokes your cheek. 

“And he moves against you whom your goddess favors so highly. Is that not blasphemy?” you shrug and look away from her. Minthara grabs your face, redirects your eyes. 

“In Menzoberranzyn, men like him would be culled from the breeding stock quickly and with force. I would take great pleasure in culling him for you, my darling.” Your eyes are dangerous. They carry the echo of times where you might have fought the man for the lies he spreads against you, where you may have provoked him. 

“You would?” You squirm, perhaps uncomfortable, perhaps not. Minthara gets a dangerous idea. 

“I would indeed.” Minthara says. “In protection of you, my sweet cleric, I would kill a thousand men.” 

She has been just that before for you. A killer, a torturer. Let this man continue to run his mouth, Minthara will rip his jaw from his face and place it in his hands. Listen to his lies then. Your eyes dance along her lips and she knows then what you truly crave--a reprieve. From the responsibility, from the caution of leadership. 

“I don't want any more men to die by my hand.” Minthara's lips touch yours for a second and you fall silent, your hands reaching up for the chest of her sweater. 

“I'll make sure your back is turned.” her head tilts, leaning up for another kiss. 

“Minthara.” You chastise her. It runs a chill down her spine. 

“I promise not to slay the little snake.” Minthara's purple irises roll and you giggle as you lean in to kiss her. 

It never takes much of the kissing to bring you to where she wants you– whimpering, rolling your hips down in search of friction, gasping when her kisses move from your mouth to your neck, to right above your collar. Your hands are in her hair, along her arms, grasping and pulling and pushing as you move. 

“I bought a surprise for you in the city.” Minthara whispers in your ear. Your hips stop their circling, you lean back and look down upon her with a flushed face and lust-blown pupils. Perfection. 

“A surprise?” You ask, a little breathless. She nods, leans in to press a kiss to your jaw. 

“Come upstairs with me and I will present it to you, my heart.” She threads a hand in your hair that drags out of it as you stand. 

You follow her up the stairs, her obedient girl, and then she has you gasping again as she kisses you on your shared bed. Her hands push up your robe under her. Her deft fingers are caressing your breasts, circling your ripples and tugging on them. You always cry out so loudly when she touches them, arching into her touch, restrained by your pretty silver robes. She had spent that first August after you took down the Elder Brain in your temple with you, pushing up your robes in empty rooms and closets just for a taste of you. 

“Min-Minthara-” her name is a whine on your lips, a cry for mercy. She chuckles and you shiver as her nails drag along your skin. Her hands retreat and you shed the robe, naked for her now. 

“Close your eyes, darling.” Minthara coos the demand, nearly mocking you. You follow quickly, letting out a little giggly shout when she tugs you to the end of the bed. She opens your legs and lifts them. 

“Keep them there, yes?” She asks. You nod fervently, already obeying as she steps away. 

The straps of the thing are the most difficult part of the contraption. It takes her two tries, whol yah's za’ith, but she gets it over her hips. That maker in the city… they were perfect. She would tip them well if tonight was a success. The… attachment was well-made, soft yet firm in her grasp. She shed her sweater to approach you, between your thighs again. When her hands touch your thighs you gasp. 

“It is so cold without you..” you coo as you reach for her, your eyes still closed. A small smile blooms to her lips as your hands slide up her forearms. 

“I am here now to warm you.” Minthara’s voice is soft as she lifts one of your ankles to her shoulder and kisses your calf. 

“Can I open my eyes?” You ask. She can feel your heartbeat in your ankle, beating wildly. 

“Do you trust me?” She asks in reply. Her hands glide along your thighs, your sides, just feeling you. Being with you. 

“With my life. I always have.” You reply, brows knitted together as you try to figure out what she has planned for you. 

“Then no, my heart, you cannot open your eyes.” She looks down between your legs and then her hand moves to touch you. First your little bud, her thumb caresses it, you sigh with relief. 

Then, where her fingers have entered you so many times before. You writhe when they touch you there again, you make a broken sound as they dip inside of you. Wet, of course you are wet for her. She groans at the feeling. What she would not give to be rid of this contraption and rub herself against you again… 

Her fingers leave you, she brings her hand up to spit into it and rub it along the attachment. Then, she presses it slowly against you, rubbing it between your folds, the sounds it makes are treacherous. 

“Min-” you startle a little, you start to squirm away, you reach for her and she reaches back, intertwining her fingers with yours. 

“What is-” 

“A present for you I commissioned in the city.” You go deeply red but do not stop squirming. 

“Let me pleasure you this night, my love.” Minthara requests, leaning over you as she grinds against you. You moan and nod as her lips kiss yours. 

“Please.” You ask, breathless. She closes her eyes and steadies herself against the begging. In Menzoberranzyn, you could have been the finest courtier, every please is so well placed. Made to break her apart. 

Minthara takes the cock into her hand and presses the artificial head to your entrance. You go still as she enters you, spreads your legs further apart, and when she's completely still inside of you your moans light up the room. 

“M-Minthara- I-” you gasp and writhe beneath her as you try to take it deeper, sensitive and moaning.

“Good girl,” her words make you cry out as her hips pull back and then sink in again, “my good girl, aren't you?” 

You nod quickly, your hands on her shoulders as she gathers your knees into each arm and presses you farther open. The position makes you sob with pleasure as she fucks you. Slowly, deeply, enjoying the noises you make. 

“I'm- Minthara-!” You moan her name when she snaps her hips harder, faster. The strap between her thighs… she saw the use of it now. Grinding against it, bringing her her own pleasure as she fucks you. As she really fucks you. 

Look at you, clawing and moaning beneath her, arching your back… what she wouldn't give to give you those babes you coo after on the streets. One of hers. The thought spurs her on deeper and harder. Your scratch at the sheets and then her back and she leans over you. Yes, her mind growls, let her have your babe, let her line carry on with your name. 

“I-” your chest shutters with a moan. 

“What?” Minthara snaps, demanding, dominating, “What do you want my heart?” 

“Wish it was real-” you snap your own hips up with hers and Minthara moans at the idea, “wish I could have your babes.” 

“You will.” She growls, fucking you faster, driving her hips into yours. You cry and shove a hand between you to rub your bud. 

“I'll give you a babe. I will.” Minthara growls. You crash down around the fake thing, the surmounting pleasure between Minthara's legs breaking. She shakes as she continues to fuck you, burying the cock inside of you. 

She collapses over you with a groan, her lips pressed to yours. You sigh, relaxed, sated. It seems a silly idea now, that she could give you a babe that looks just like her, a child to grow. Perhaps not so silly, when you kiss her. You wince as she pulls out of you, watching her fingers make easy work of the straps and cast it to the floor. 

“My love,” you coo as you adjust in bed and pull her in. Her head to your breast. Your heartbeat in her ears. 

— 

You look beautiful in the winter sun. Minthara watches you calmly. She had been bored at the house, had no sword work for the day, and had decided she would spend the day watching you. You're currently passing out bread to the little urchin children. 

“Ellia,” you greet the little girl, you kneel down to hug her. Then, when you pull back, “Three loaves for you?” 

“F-Four, lady.” The little girl stutters. “Mama is having a baby.” 

“Five, then.” You gather the loaves into her little basket then reach over to a small chair, motioning the child over. There are words exchanged Minthara does not hear, but then you are slipping boots onto the little girl's feet and giving her two more pairs before she scampers away. 

Then, out he comes. Gracefully, perhaps for him, he says nothing to you and he passes you. But he does lean into another Selunite, purrs something in her ear, motions to you, before he walks away. Minthara serves Loth no longer, but the violence of her service comes to her easily. She wonders if he'll soil himself when she threatens him. 

— 

“Minnie~” you sing as you close the door. “I have great news!” 

“What is it, my heart?” Minthara asks from the kitchen. You walk in, spy her cleaned sword on the table, raise an eyebrow then decide not to ask.

She slides a plate of your favorite meal across the small kitchen island. Potato soup and fresh bread. You sigh happily as you look upon. 

“This is the best day ever.” You pull the stool out and look across at her. 

“Harron left today before I was leaving for the day. He said he wouldn't be returning– ever!” You can't hide the happy smile on your face. Minthara struggles to hide her own. 

“I suppose I shouldn't be too glad– I did want him to leave. But maybe he has found somewhere else to sleep. My Lady has helped him enough.” You lift the spoon for your soup and take a bite. You sing her compliments as you eat and Minthara watches on, pleased with herself.

[sorcerous-caress]

Dead men's thrones | Minthara

[ Dark content, descriptions of gore, choking, smut, gender ambiguous reader, after moonrise fight]

[ dark urge Reader ]

In a way, you thought, this scene did look familiar. 

The same cold stone walls unburdened by the soft lighting of the candle flames, the same rows of wooden pews lining up from the entrance. Several gods had come and gone long ago, giving a resemblance of a purpose to the cathedral and religious imagery that Ketheric adorned his throne room with.

It was exactly like the first day you took a step here, the first time you really saw her truly desperate, the way they relished in breaking her. Sadistic hearts beating at the sight of a powerful drow woman almost falling to her knees.

There was nothing you wanted to do more than to bathe in their blood at that moment, only then will whatever filth they dragged Minthara into be cleansed.

And yet, when you look at her in this moment, the stone throne does suit her much more than it did for Ketheric.

Adjusting your position on her lap, you took a good look at the very put together women below you. She was whole again. It was you who pulled her over the edge, you who's path was littered with the corpses of both the innocent and the guilty, sacrifices for her sake. Be it innocent tieflings or the chosen of Myrkul.

Wrapping your arms around her neck, you leaned into her even more. Wanting to feel more of her, smell more and taste more. 

With a slow drag of your tongue against the side of her neck, you bit down on the spider web tattoo that marked it. And to think you almost gave in to the urge to snap her neck back during your first time together.

Minthara's hand took a hold of the nape of your neck, pushing you further into her as if to encourage you to bite deeper.

She never shied away from your teeth or claws, in fact she seemed delighted. Maybe because she knew even a feral dog will stay loyal to their mistress. Or maybe it was the pleasure she took in disciplining you, getting you to obey and behave, but only to her.

Power and authority suited her, it was in her blood from the moment she was born as a possible matron for the Baerne house. It's so deeply engraved inside her that it might as well be a part of her.

She thinks she is incomplete without it, and so you'd gather all the power in the world at her feet like any loyal dog should.

Pulling away from her neck, you met her crimson eyes with your hunger filled ones. Moving your hips against her thighs, wanting her to touch you, finger you, fuck you, choke you, stab you and even murder you right here and now. To your holes filled brain, every option seemed even more arousing than the last.

You were burning too hot, the primal urge inside you tearing at the seams of your brain and threatening to pour out in a parade of gore and sex.

Maybe she sensed that, she was always exceptionally good at reading people, too good at seeing through you. 

The same hand on your nape guided you back to her, anchoring you amidst the raging river of bloodlust just like you anchored her amidst that storm in her brain merely a few weeks ago. 

Her delicate lips met yours, slowly giving you a taste of what's to come. She took her time as she kissed you with deep passion, a controlled calm pace to match your hungry desperate one.

Your noises echoed through the empty room, the two of you were the only souls left in the entire tower.

The more she kissed you the quieter these voices became, the calmer the river's stream turned. How expertly she stole the lead from you and made you melt on her lap, how the taste of her lips will be the only thing you'd be able to remember on your deathbed.

Would she be next to you then? Or will her toll come before yours. 

You hoped that the thought of death stealing you away from her would fill her with jealousy, that the envy at seeing her favourite pet be taken would be enough to convince her to take your life herself.

A shiver ran up your spine at the idea, heat pooling between your legs as you kept seeking relief with your movement on her lap. If you had no choice but to go out, then parting with this world through her hands was your catharsis.

Her other hand spread your legs on top of her even more, fingers pressing against your lower stomach and slightly pushing your needy insides against each other. Trailing lower and lower at an agonising pace, feather light touches teasing you and toying with you.

It was getting harder to contain yourself, leaking through your clothes and dripping against the stone seat of the throne. Each of your legs were hooked on an armrest to keep you open for her. 

Yes, this was definitely a much better use for this throne than whatever Ketheric was doing with it. It was meant for Minthara to sit on as she made a leaking mess out of you, one that'd surely stain it.

Part of you would kill to see the look on his face now, alas corpses weren't known for being very animated. 

But maybe if you hadn't killed him so fast, dragging him in front of his own throne as he watched the mad dog and their mistress indulge in various acts of blasphemy. 

Tainting the paladin's holy room of prayer and worship.

Your cum and his guts, that was the perfect decoration this room was missing.

Breaking the kiss, Minthara eyed your clothes before looking at you expectantly. Removing yourself from her lap as you stood up, you stripped off everything that might get in her way, completely naked and defenceless as you sat back on her lap. 

Her own clothes and leather armour were freshly out of battle, blood covering it and latching onto your skin the more you pressed your naked body to her.

It was intoxicating.

A satisfied smile painted her lips at your obedience. Her hands start feeling up your body, squeezing your thighs, feeling the inside of your hips, teasing the sides below your waist.

She was focused on you, eyes memorising every curve and blemish on your skin. 

Reaching your chest, she toyed with your nipples and squeezed, making them even more sensitive the longer she went on. 

Arching your back, your hands trembled with each flick and pull. Breath getting heavier as she unravelled you completely with a simple fondling to your chest.

More wetness collected onto the stone below, maybe if she leaned over and bit them you'd actually finish completely untouched. 

But her hands retracted, leaving you a panting mess, much to her satisfaction and amusement

She was getting off on this, you knew, nothing got her pussy wetter than her power over you. Nothing made her ache more than having you naked at her mercy while she held the end of the leash to your collar.

Electric pleasure shot through you as you felt her touch between your spread legs, her hand soaking in your mess as it moved against you.

You moved your hips to meet her rhythm, grinding against her hand.

Nothing else mattered in that moment, nothing but the way pure pleasure numbed your brain and quieted your thoughts. Her fingers felt just right as they soothed the fire in your core. 

You felt like you never wanted her to stop, even after you become an overstimulated sensitive mumbling mess, even if  Bhaal himself came through these doors right now, you wouldn't want her to stop. Gods be damned.

The sound of your obscene moaning filled the room, not a grain of shame in your mind as you let Minthara know how much you enjoyed this.

You were getting closer. 

You were getting closer and she is still fully clothed.

You were getting closer and the fresh dead bodies awaited just outside, in the halls.

You were getting closer and there was still a tadpole in your brain, squirming and threatening to burst tentacles through your skull at any given second.

You were getting closer and the shadow curse still loomed outside these walls, threatening to swallow the two of you and marking this throne as your gravestone.

You were getting closer and still can't fucking remember anything besides your own cursed name since the second you awoke on top that damn ship.

Her hand sped up, your vision blurred.

The holes in your brain, who did it, who the fuck did this to you.

Your moans got louder.

You're almost there, pain and pleasure mixing together, intoxicating agony, the white flames from the depths of Stygia itself bubbling through your veins as the burning ice of Cania bled down your throat and spread through your lungs.

Her other hand took a hold of your throat, never stopping her relentless pace.

You're going to cave their skulls in, you're going to peel off their flesh and sew it back on. You'll drown them in a puddle of their own piss and blood, you'll pluck out their eyes and force them to swallow it. You'll stomp out their face until none of their features are recognisable anymore. You'll perform all kinds of vivisections on them as they watch their organs extracted before choking them with their own colon.

There's a burning in your lungs, you're out of air.

Her grip on your throat tightens.

You've never felt greater pleasure before.

With a final stutter to your hips, your orgasm sparks through you like an explosion, tensing every muscle in your body as it sets it on fire, melting your bones and blackening your vision.

Minthara releases your throat.

Her wet fingers press against your lips, after you regain your breath, covered in your own cum.

You lick them clean, tasting yourself mixed with traces of blood.

Guiding you by the nape again, she kisses you softly. Putting you back together after completely tearing you apart, making you whole again in her embrace.

[writtenobsession]

Minthara’s Jaluk

Modern AU Minthara x Male Drow Tav/Reader

THIS IS 18+ FANFIC! You’ve been warned.

Summary: You were given a set of rules to follow while at a work event for Minthara’s work. The promise of a reward at the end of the night motivates you be on your best behavior.

Tags: Dom Minthara, Sub Male Drow, Under the table clothed handjob in a public area, oral, hair pulling, and using a tie as a leash.

A/N: This is smut for smuts sake. I remember seeing a dirty bg3 confession about someone wanting their male drow to be dominated by Minthara. It lived in my brain rent free for a while. Written and posted on phone. This is my first time ever writing smut. May or may not do a part 2. Let me know if you think I should? (I couldn’t think of a title to save my life… I’m trying)

Drow terms used: Jaluk- a derogatory term for a male drow, Harl'il'cik- kneel, Parzdiamo- male playmate who is not the house patron, Ilharess- matron.

Word Count: 10,950

Your rules for the evening:

1.) Do not embarrass me.

2.)When asked about our relationship, keep it simple and to the point. Do not give out too much information.

3.) I will allow you to call me “My dear” or “My Love”, anything else will displease me.

You will receive your reward when we arrive home.- Minthara

Events like these were always stressful. Trying to remember peoples faces, etiquette, the rules, and keeping her happy. Your outfit for the evening already picked out to complement hers, the chauffeur waiting for you at the bottom for the your shared luxury apartment, and traveled downtown to the business district for the hotel hosting her work event. Stepping out of the sleek car, you straighten your tux and check your watch.

“Right on time,” you thought before taking a deep breath and plastered a well practiced smile in your face, “Let the show begin.”

With false confidence, you walk into the lobby and instantly recognize a few familiar faces for Minthara’s office. Smalltalk was always torturous for you when it came to these events. The questions were almost always the same, such as, “How are you?” or, “How’s work?” These people had no interest in you when you used to work in the same building, but once Minthara brought you to the last event, their sudden friendly demeanor grated on you. Once a lull in the conversation, you excused yourself to attempt to find your her. Shuffling through the crowd, you spot her in front of a few higher ups in the company in front of entrance to the rented hall for the evening. She looked gorgeous. You could feel your heart race just gazing upon her. Her hair done up perfectly, the earrings you picked out that matched your cuff links for your anniversary, and her black dress that hugged every curve on her well toned body. Her leg occasionally peaking out from a side slit as she adjusted her stance. You stood there admiring her from afar for just a moment before you caught her eye. A warm smile formed on her lips.

“Will you excuse me, gentlemen,” She said before sauntering over. Once she reached you, her smile harden. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry, my Love,” you look at her lovingly, “I couldn’t help, but admire you for a moment.” She hummed at the comment, approving of your answer. “It’s almost time for the main events to begin, Darling.” You hold out your arm to escort her into the main room. She leans into you with a wicked smile for a moment and whispers, “It seems I’ve trained you well.” The hairs on the back of your neck stand. You’re already having a tough time keeping your composure. She links her arm with yours then proceeds to lead the way. Of course more small talk ensued, but it becomes manageable when your fiery lover takes charge. You would be lying to yourself that if you said this side of her wasn’t a turn on. You were pulled out of your mind when Minthara squeezed your arm lightly.

“Darling, they’re announcing that it’s about the time to take our seats.” She looked you in the eyes as if asking, “What in the hells are you doing.”

“Of course, my dear.” It took you a moment to remember where you were before walking directly towards your table near a front corner of the stage. Just enough out of the lights not to irritate Minthara’s sensitive eyes. You pull her chair out for her and rest your hand on her shoulder. She places her hand on yours and looks up at you.

You can practically hear her say, “Good jaluk,” with her eyes.

You could see some women elbow their husbands at your display of manners and love.

“Good,” you thought. You knew Minthara took joy at watching men quickly trying reenact your actions. You take your seat next to her and greet the newcomers to the table. The chatter of everyone finding their seats, you felt Minthara lean over and whisper into your ear, “You look wonderful, Jaluk.” You felt her finger ghost over your thigh for a moment. You clear your throat as you choke a down the urge to let out a soft moan. Her chuckle let you know this was the reaction she wanted. “Maybe I’ll give you a taste of tonight’s events.” You slowly turned your head towards her you almost give her a pleading look before you heard footsteps approach the podium on stage. You turn back towards the stage with your mind racing with thoughts of what she had planned for you. All attention was on the Elven man on stage as he began his speech.

“Good evening everyone, I would like to thank…” You brain cut him off when you left Minthara’s left hand squeeze your thigh.

“Gods is she really going to..?” You left her hand creep ever closer toward your length. You glance back at her, her eyes told you everything you needed to know. “Be quiet and eyes forward.” She began to palm your growing length, giving you a delicious amount for friction. You turned back and made yourself focus on anything because you knew the moment you allowed yourself to lose focus, your moans will escape from your lips and alerting everyone to what was going on under the table. Her hand movements begin to become more bold. It took you everything not to show how much you’re enjoying this. You felt her fingers begin to fiddle with the zipper on your trousers, the sensation made you flinch.

“Shit,” You mentally scold yourself. “She’s not going to be pleased by that.” You felt her give your thigh a light squeeze. That was your signal for your last chance to behave. She was being very lenient with you tonight. She continued gently rubbing her hand over length. You were aching under her touch. You could feel her enjoying this control over you. Right when you could feel yourself getting to the point of no return, her hand pulled away. It took all of your willpower not to whine in disappointment or sigh with relief that you didn’t have to break out an exit plan. You hear Minthara get called on stage to give a speech. Feel her brush your shoulder and watch the sway of hips strut past you and up to the stage. You’re completely enamored by her. The rest of the night went without anymore hiccups, but you were too distracted by what the rest of the night holds.

You arrived in the lobby of your apartment and waited for the elevator in silence. You swear Minthara could hear your heart about to burst out of your chest. Your cheeks begin to flush by the time the metal doors opened before you. The moment you walked through, you feel her hand rest on the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. It was hungry, like she hadn’t been touched in months. You feel her other hand grab your tie and to hold you in place. You look deep into her ruby eyes, full of want and lust.

“Jaluk,” You shiver at the word, “You performance was almost perfect. Almost.” She emphasized, her eyes slightly narrowed. The elevator dinged and you felt her drag you out by your tie as if it was a leash. She leads you to your front door before letting you go and stands there without a word. You at the hint and enter in the code into the keypad. You were quick to open the door, allowing her to walk through.

“Jaluk, come.” Releasing your tie, she walks straight toward the couch and takes a seat. She crosses her legs and waits for you to stand before her. Her eyes fixated on you. You wait for her commands. “Harl’il’cik.”

Without a second thought, you kneel before her, like a parzdiamo at his ilharess. She hums approvingly. You stay silent, you anticipated her next words. You wait for those words where everything starts.

“Are you ready to give yourself to me?”

You gulp and slowly nod. “Yes.”

“Good,” she says are she uncrosses her leg and slightly spreads them. You feel yourself begin to harden once more. She’s your queen, your goddess yet you’ve never said it out loud. You never needed to because she knew.

You reached for the slit of her long gown. As you slowly plant soft feather like kisses on her left leg. Once you’ve reached past her knees, you carefully spread her legs a bit farther to allow yourself to sit between them more comfortable. You could feel her eyes watching your every move. Your hands travel up her thighs to remove the delicate fabric underneath, yet your fingers only find smooth flesh. Your eyes widen and look up at her. You could feel yourself becoming more aroused and your cheeks becoming flushed. She looks at you with a satisfied smirk. She chuckles and rests her hand on your head. “What’s wrong, jaluk?”

“N-nothing, my-“ you were interrupted when you felt your hair roughly grabbed. You release a soft moan.

“Then show me.” Her voice firm yet a hint of lust hangs in the background. You’re more than willing to show her that nothing is the matter. You raise the rest of the dress up her legs until you could see for your own eyes the beauty hiding there. You feel her guiding your head towards her crotch. You’re more than happy to oblige her command. Your hands travel up her outer thighs, your face inching closer, and your thoughts only filled with her.

You gently grab her hips and pull her closer to edge of the couch. Your eyes flick to meet her eyes for a moment before taking a long broad lick of her folds. You continue licks her rhythmically before using your tongue gently flick her clit. Her soft sighs encouraging you to continue. You begin to pay attention to give her inner walls by probing with your tongue. Your actions were performed with great precision to ensure her pleasure. When you feel she was wet enough, you slowly inserted a finger. Her moans and heavy breathing egged you on to continue your goal to provide her pleasure. Inserting another finger, you begin to stroke her silken walls. Hitting every spot that makes her tighten around you.

Her moans and sighs were like a song you’ve played for years. The moment you feel her pull your face closer to her, you could tell she’s close to coming undone. You feel her quiver around your finger, a shiver runs through your body.

“Use your tongue,” she said almost breathlessly. Quick to follow your queen’s order, you swiftly replace your fingers with your tongue and devoured her like this was your first meal in years. Her hand painfully tight in your hair, but ignored it for her pleasure. Her hips grinding against your face, you pull her closer. Focusing all your attention on her little sounds and movements. Soon you feel her coming undone on your tongue. Her taste, smell, and cries are intoxicating. You were lost in thought, allowing her to ride out her orgasm before you were suddenly pulled away from her core. She lightly pulls your head back to examine her handy work. Her face was flushed and her chest heaving. The sight of her almost made you spill over.

“What a mess,” her husky and her hooded eyes look down on you. Her hand strokes your cheek then tilts your chin toward her. She pulls you into a kiss, tasting herself off your lips. “I believe it time for you to properly receive your reward.” A wicked smile crossed her lips. Your night was far from over.

[moonselune]

⋆.˚✰ Minthara⋆.˚✰:

Fics:

✧˖°.Teacher Minthara AU ✧˖°.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

By The Silk That Binds Us Masterlist

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Drabbles:

⟢ Minthy x werewolf gf ⟢

��Minthara x Paranoid!reader⟢

⟢Minthara x f!reader x Karlach⟢

⟢Compromising position⟢

⟢Minthara x Pregnant!reader⟢

⟢ Reacting to You Having a Child ⟢

⟢Shapeshifter !⟢

⟢Scratch me up⟢

⟢Godmother! Minthara⟢

⟢Soft Moments ⟢

⟢Surprise kiss!⟢

⟢No more revivify for you⟢

⟢Jealousy, Jealousy ⟢

⟢Beach⟢

⟢Sibling Reunion ⟢

⟢Kidnapped by Orin⟢

⟢Waking up after living the nightmare⟢

⟢All you feel is RAGE⟢

⟢Ass handed to you⟢

⟢Mommy Matron Minthara⟢

⟢Silly Sacrifice ⟢

⟢You Spin Me Right Round⟢

⟢Don't threaten the pregnant lady⟢

⟢Now it makes sense⟢

⟢Sadness creeps in⟢

⟢Plus!reader NSFW⟢

⟢Squirt NSFW⟢

⟢Bigger brood than expected⟢

⟢Broken Oath⟢

⟢Strapped and Racked (M!reader NSFW)⟢

⟢Fireball⟢

⟢Fireball pt 2⟢

⟢Here for you⟢

⟢As an auntie/mother⟢

⟢Got you!⟢

⟢Inexperienced⟢

⟢Just a Dance⟢

⟢Overstimulation NSFW⟢

⟢Opened my Heart⟢

⟢All too much⟢

⟢The Orin Dilemma⟢

⟢Gentle Giant⟢

⟢Not your tent⟢

⟢Fainting ⟢

⟢Calming Kisses⟢

⟢Druid tattoos⟢

⟢Durge episode⟢

⟢Your blood on my hands⟢

⟢Sing for me⟢

⟢My Oath⟢

⟢Can't walk after a night of passion⟢

⟢Lost horn⟢

⟢What she did to you⟢

⟢Family Rejection⟢

⟢Touching Foreheads⟢

⟢Tiny Tav⟢

⟢Revived⟢

⟢Lean on me⟢

⟢Ersatz eye⟢

⟢I'm Mother?⟢

⟢Life left behind⟢

⟢Turn ons⟢

⟢What a voice⟢

⟢I went too far⟢

⟢Your kid's father makes an appearance⟢

⟢I'm pregnant⟢

⟢Adopted by The In-laws ⟢

⟢Jealous of a plushie⟢

⟢Power of Friendship⟢

⟢Crybaby⟢

⟢Marks of Tragedy⟢

⟢Red-eyed friend⟢

⟢Hand in Hand⟢

⟢A Poetic Attempt⟢

⟢Big Tatas⟢

⟢The Greatest Beast⟢

⟢Favourite Beast⟢

⟢Dhampiric Revelations⟢

⟢Proposal⟢

⟢Thinking the BG3 Ladies are Cheating on You⟢

⟢Family Life (Stepchild series)⟢

⟢Kaleidoscope Eyes⟢

⟢Druidic Tendencies ⟢

⟢Admiration (M!reader)⟢

⟢No More (Durge)⟢

⟢Astral-Touched Tadpole⟢

⟢Changes (Plus!Tav)⟢

⟢Fierce Protector⟢

⟢Who You Are (Transfem!Tav)⟢

⟢Halloween⟢

✦. ── Dark BG3 Masterlist ── .✦

.𖥔 ݁ ˖BG3 Ships Masterlist𖥔 ݁ ˖

[moonselune]

Adore you | Part Five

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Teacher!Minthara x Obsessed!Student AU

NSFW | MDNI | Modern AU

Part five to these parts: part one , part two, part three, part four

CW: SMUT SMUT SMUT, minthara making it up to you, Orin gets her own content warning,

⋆.˚✰ Minthara ⋆.˚✰ <- Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara's apology had been so heartfelt, so raw, that you couldn't help but want to do something special for her. She had laid herself bare, and now it was your turn to show her just how much she meant to you. As the evening approached, you sifted through your wardrobe, finally settling on a daring lilac dress that clung to your curves in all the right places. The color, Minthara's favorite, would be sure to get her attention.

When the clock struck seven, you were ready, your hair and makeup perfectly done, and your confidence at an all-time high. You heard a knock at your door and felt a flutter of anticipation. You opened it to find Minthara standing there, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that accentuated her strong frame. But it was the look in her eyes that made your breath catch—a mixture of awe, desire, and something deeper.

"You look… breathtaking," she managed, her voice husky with emotion.

"Thank you," you replied with a coy smile, enjoying the way her eyes roved over you. "Shall we go?"

The car ride to the restaurant was charged with electricity. Minthara's hand found yours, her thumb gently caressing your skin. She kept stealing glances at you, as if she couldn't believe her luck. When you arrived at the restaurant, she was the perfect gentlewoman, helping you out of the car and guiding you inside with a hand at the small of your back.

Dinner was a sensory experience. The food was exquisite, but it was Minthara's attention that you relished most. Her gaze never left you, her eyes filled with unspoken words. Under the table, her hand found your knee, squeezing gently, her touch sending shivers up your spine. You responded in kind, your own hand brushing against her thigh, feeling the muscles tense under your touch.

"You're driving me crazy," Minthara whispered at one point, her eyes dark with desire.

"Good," you replied with a wicked smile, your voice low and sultry.

By the time dessert arrived, the tension between you was almost unbearable. Minthara paid the bill quickly, her hand once again finding the small of your back as she led you out of the restaurant. The moment you were in the car, she pulled you into a searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body with a hunger that matched your own.

"Please," she murmured against your lips, her voice a desperate plea. "Let me take you back to mine."

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting hers. "You really want me that badly?" you teased, your fingers tracing the line of her jaw.

"Yes," she breathed, her hands gripping your hips tightly. "I need you, Y/N. Please."

You smiled, savoring the power you held in that moment. "Beg for it," you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear.

"Y/N, please," she repeated, her voice trembling with need. "I want you so much. I need to show you how much I love you. Please, come back with me."

You let her words hang in the air for a moment, enjoying the way she looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and adoration. Finally, you leaned in, kissing her deeply before whispering, "Take me home, Minthara."

The drive to her place was a blur of heated kisses at stoplights and wandering hands. As soon as you arrived, she practically dragged you inside, her lips never leaving yours. The door barely closed behind you before she pressed you against it, her body flush against yours as she kissed you with a fervor that made your knees weak.

She practically devoured you, needily gripping your hips and biting your bottom lip. She needed you, needed to be with you, be one with you. You couldn't help but melt under her touch. She is what you wanted, she is what you desired, needed.

You gripped the back of Minthara's hair and pulled her close to you as she continued to bully her tongue down your throat. Her hand quickly snaked under your dress and toyed with your panties, a finger dipping in and out of them. She was waiting, waiting for your approval. You couldn't help but smile and you pushed her away.

She groaned and rested her head against your chest, whining slightly. She just wanred to feel you. "Come on, love, cryso,"

"I don't know, I was pretty upset.." You chuckled, Minthara caught your lips in a hot, passionate kiss, her desperation clear.

"Please, let me make it up to you," she whispered between kisses, her hands trembling slightly as they held you.

You decided to give in, leaning back against the door and pulling her closer.

"Alright, Minthara," you murmured. "Show me how much you care."

With a relieved sigh, Minthara guided you - although practically dragged you to the bedroom, her hands never leaving your body. She undressed you with a reverence that made your heart race, her lips worshipping every inch of exposed skin. She took her time, catering to your every need, exploring your body with a mix of tenderness and passion that left you breathless. Her hands traced the curves of your body, and she kissed her way up your thighs, her breath hot against your skin. She reached your hips, her fingers gripping you with a possessive need, and looked up at you again.

"Sit on my face," she whispered, her voice trembling with desire. "Please, Y/N, let me worship you."

The raw need in her voice made your pulse quicken and you submitted to her demand instantly - it may have sounded like a plea but you knew better. You positioned yourself above her, feeling her hands guiding you as you lowered yourself onto her waiting mouth. The first touch of her tongue against your most sensitive spot sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help but moan.

Minthara's tongue worked skillfully, her hands gripping your hips firmly as she devoured you with a fervor that left you gasping for breath. She alternated between slow, languid strokes and quick, flicking motions, her eyes locked on yours, watching every reaction. You felt a wave of intense pleasure building, her name escaping your lips in breathless whispers.

She didn't stop, her tongue and lips working in perfect harmony, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel your muscles tensing, your breath coming in ragged gasps, and just when you thought you couldn't take any more, she sucked gently, pushing you over the edge.

A powerful orgasm ripped through you, your body shuddering with the intensity of it. Minthara held you steady, her tongue continuing to lap at you gently, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. When you finally collapsed beside her, breathless and sated, she pulled you into her arms, holding you close. Though she wasn't done with you yet.

She wasn't done with you; her need to show you how much she cared was insatiable.

Minthara began to kiss along your jawline, her lips soft but insistent. She moved slowly, savoring every moment, her breath hot against your skin. You shivered, feeling the familiar stirrings of arousal starting to build again.

She shifted, straddling your thigh, her body pressing against yours. You could feel the heat radiating from her, the evidence of her own arousal slick against your skin. Her hands moved with purpose, caressing your sides, her fingers dancing across your ribs, sending shivers through your body.

Her lips traveled lower, placing bruising kisses along your neck, each one more intense than the last. She bit down gently, sucking on the tender skin, marking you as hers. You gasped, the sensation a perfect blend of pleasure and pain. She moved to your shoulders, leaving a trail of hickeys that would serve as reminders of this night.

Minthara's mouth found your breasts, her tongue flicking over your nipples, making you arch your back in response. She sucked on each one in turn, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as she began to grind against your thigh, her movements slow and deliberate.

You could feel her wetness against your skin, the rhythm of her grinding becoming more urgent. She kissed her way down your body, her lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She paused at your hips, her teeth grazing your skin, and then she moved back up, her mouth finding your breasts again, sucking and biting with renewed fervor.

Minthara's moans grew louder, her movements more frantic as she rode your thigh. The friction against your own arousal was maddening, each grind sending waves of pleasure through you. Her fingers dug into your hips, her nails leaving marks as she lost herself in the sensation.

"Y/N," she breathed, her voice heavy with desire. "I need you. I need this."

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, encouraging her to move faster. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, each thrust and grind bringing you both closer to the edge. Her lips found yours in a searing kiss, her tongue demanding entrance, her need evident in every touch.

The pleasure built to a crescendo, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, the impending release just out of reach. Minthara's movements became erratic, her moans turning into cries of ecstasy as she ground against you with increasing desperation.

Finally, the wave of pleasure crashed over you both, your bodies trembling with the intensity of your orgasms. Minthara's cries of release mixed with your own, the room filled with the sounds of your shared passion. She collapsed against you, her body slick with sweat, her breathing ragged.

You held her close, your hands gently stroking her back as you both came down from the high. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of love and satisfaction.

"You're incredible," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the intensity of her pleasure.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "So are you, my love. So are you."

Minthara leaned upwards and pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips, you held her close, not wanting to let go of her, deepening the kiss. You needed her, wanted to become one with her. She was yours and you were hers. Eventually Minthara pulled away, the two of you panting, swollen lips just touching each other.

The night continued in a blur of intense passion. After your shared climax, Minthara's desire seemed insatiable. She kissed and caressed you relentlessly, drawing you into another round of heated lovemaking. Her hands and lips explored every inch of your body, her touch a mix of tenderness and raw need that left you breathless and aching with pleasure. You lost count of how many times she brought you to the edge and beyond, her stamina seemingly endless as she worshipped your body with a devotion that made your heart swell.

As the hours passed, the room filled with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, each moan and cry echoing off the walls. By the time you finally succumbed to exhaustion, the night had given way to the first light of dawn, the soft glow filtering through the curtains and casting a warm, golden hue over the room.

You woke up feeling achy, every muscle in your body pleasantly sore from the night's activities. You stretched lazily, feeling the stiffness in your limbs, a satisfied smile tugging at your lips. The bed beside you was empty, but you could hear the sound of running water coming from the bathroom.

Curious, you slipped out of bed, wrapping a sheet around your naked form as you made your way to the bathroom. You found Minthara standing by the bathtub, her back to you as she tested the water with her hand. The sight of her, so serene and beautiful, made your heart skip a beat.

"Good morning," you murmured, your voice still husky with sleep.

Minthara turned to you, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Good morning, love," she replied, her eyes softening as they took in the sight of you. "I thought we could both use a relaxing bath after last night."

You couldn't help but chuckle, the memories of the night flooding back. "I think you're right," you said, stepping forward to kiss her gently. "A bath sounds perfect."

She helped you into the tub, the warm water enveloping you like a comforting embrace. Minthara slipped in behind you, pulling you back against her chest, her arms wrapping around you as you both settled into the soothing heat. You sighed in contentment, the tension in your muscles slowly melting away.

For a while, you simply lay there in silence, enjoying the feel of her body against yours, the gentle rise and fall of her breath. The steam from the water rose around you, creating a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. It was a lazy, blissful morning, and you reveled in the peace of the moment.

"Last night was incredible," Minthara murmured after a while, her lips brushing against your ear. "I never want to forget a single moment of it."

You smiled, tilting your head back to look at her. "Me neither," you replied softly. "It was… perfect."

She kissed your forehead, her lips lingering there as she held you tightly. "I promise I'll always make it up to you...I care about you deeply."

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. It wasn't the three little words you had been daydreaming about ever since you had set eyes on Minthara but they would do. "I care deeply for you too, Minthara."

"I never want to lose you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I know I’ve made mistakes, but I want to be better for you. Will you… will you be... oh my gods this sounds so foolish, but will you be my girlfriend?"

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. You leaned in, and giggled, like a giddy school girl, "Yes, Minthara. I'll be your girlfriend. But I would have appreciated it if you passed me a note in class and let me tick a box.."

"Oh shut up you," Minthara laughed splasing water at you, though her eyes lit up with joy, and she turned you around pulled you into a tight embrace, her lips finding yours in a kiss filled with adoration and promise.

Eventually, the water began to cool, and you both reluctantly decided it was time to get out. Minthara helped you dry off, her hands gentle and caring as she wrapped you in a fluffy towel. You returned to the bedroom, where you dressed in her overshirt and climbed back into bed, snuggling close under the covers. Minthara had lightly rolled her eyes at the sight of you, muttering how she was going to get no work done today but she nevertheless joined you

As you lay there, Minthara's arms around you, a thought driftend into your mind.

"Minthara," you began, your voice soft and sweet. "You know I've missed a few classes because of everything that's been going on. Maybe you could… help me out a bit with the credits I need?"

Minthara raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. "Oh? And how do you propose I help you with that?" she asked, amusement dancing in her eyes.

You traced a finger along her collarbone, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Well, I could put in some extra work, Dr Baenre… if you know what I mean."

Minthara chuckled, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous," she said, her tone affectionate. She leaned down and kissed your forehead, her fingers gently stroking your hair. "I have faith in your skills and abilities, Y/N. I know you can catch up on your own."

You pouted, hoping to persuade her, but the resolve in her eyes was clear.

"But Minthara," you whined softly, giving her your best puppy dog eyes. She laughed, a genuine, warm sound that filled the room.

"No pouting," she said, brushing her thumb across your bottom lip. "You're more than capable of handling your coursework. And besides, you wouldn't want me to play favorites, would you?"

You sighed, knowing she was right. "Fine," you conceded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But you have to admit, it was worth a try."

Minthara pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you protectively. "It was," she agreed, her voice softening. "And I appreciate your creativity. But I believe in you, Y/N. You can do this."

You nodded, feeling a sense of pride at her confidence in you. "Okay. Fine. I'll catch up."

Minthara pressed a tender kiss to your forehead as you sighed but as you lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt a sense of finalised peace. With Minthara by your side once again you felt complete, happy. And that's not just because you had entier folder on her ex and a way to make her... move on.. if needed. No, not at all, it was all about the trust you had established between each other.

A few days later, you find yourself navigating the bustling corridors of the university, the air thick with the scent of academia and the sounds of students chatting, laughing, and rushing to their next classes. You had settled back into your routine, the memories of that passionate night with Minthara still fresh in your mind, a secret smile often tugging at your lips.

As you rounded a corner, lost in thought, a firm hand suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you into an empty classroom. You stumbled slightly, catching your balance as the door slammed shut behind you. Dr. Orin Dered stood before you, her eyes cold and calculating.

"Dr. Dered?" you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "What is this about?"

Orin’s lips curled into a tight smile, but there was no warmth in it. "I think you know exactly what this is about, Y/N," she said, her tone dripping with condescension. "Your little affair with Dr Baenre, or considering we are all on such intimate terms, Minthara."

You blinked, feigning ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Orin stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "Don't play dumb with me, little girl. I know everything. And I'm here to tell you to break things off with her. Now. Minthara deserves someone of her standing, not a horny university student looking to get her blood pumping."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed as you crossed your arms, trying to project confidence. "And why, exactly, would I do that?"

"Because," Orin replied, her voice low and threatening, "if you don't, I'll go straight to Professor Dekarios about it. Do you really think he'll allow such an illicit relationship to continue under his nose? You're a disgrace, Y/N. I'm sure he had such high hopes for you as a promising student, but now look at you—caught up in this… this scandal."

Her words stung, but you refused to let her see how much they affected you.

"I really don’t know what you’re talking about," you said, but your heart was pounding, and you knew Orin wouldn’t back down easily.

Orin sneered, stepping even closer. "You think you can play innocent? You're a naughty student, Y/N. Throwing away your future for some fling."

Something inside you snapped, was it the not-yet-healed wounds associated with that word or was because of the sheer audacity of Orin to encroach on something you cultivated and coveted so dearly? You didn't know. What you did know was that Orin wouldn't relent, and if she went to Professor Dekarios, it could create all amounts of trouble for both you and Minthara. But you were no fool, no starry-eyed worshiper who had hots for teacher -or at least you weren't entirely that. You were something much darker that Orin had clearly not recognised.

"Do you think you’re in any position to lecture me about morality?" you said, your voice icy, your expression twisting from one of doe-eyed shock to gleeful venom. "What about your illegal experiments, Orin? The ones that resulted in the deaths of three test subjects? I'm sure the board would love to hear all about that."

Orin's face went pale, her eyes widening in shock. She took a step back, her bravado faltering. "How… how do you know about that?" she stammered. You stepped forward, your confidence growing as you saw the fear in her eyes.

"Oh I know a lot of things, Orin. Kids these days and their internet!" You laughed before dropping it and immediately going back to glaring at her with an unnerving calmness. "Oh Orin, I know things that could ruin you if they came to light. I won't even go into your missing older sibling, and the family fortune." Orin visibly flinched, like prey trapped under the predator's claw. "So if you keep trying to interfere with my relationship with Minthara, I will make sure everyone knows just how far you've gone to further your career."

Orin's bravado crumbled, and she took another step back, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "You wouldn't dare," she whispered, but there was no conviction in her voice.

"Try me," you replied, your voice low and firm. "If you want to see just how much of a 'naughty student' I can be, keep pushing. If I lose Minthara, get expelled, I lose it all. And I will not hesitate to drag you down with me. But if you value your career and your freedom, you'll stay out of my business."

Orin stared at you for a long moment, her face a mask of conflicted emotions. Finally, she seemed to deflate, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine," she muttered. "But this isn’t over."

She turned and hurried out of the classroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You took a deep breath, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away. You knew Orin wouldn't give up easily, but for now, you had the upper hand.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

In this blog we hate Orin <3

Hope you all enjoyed this, gods was it cathartic writing that Orin bit. And missing older sibling? Durge where you at babe your little sis is acting cringe af.

Let me know what you think down below ! - Seluney xox

[moonselune]

Pay Attention !

Teacher!Minthara x Obsessed!student (f!reader)

NSFW | MDNI !

CW: bratty reader, Lorroakan is his own warning, Minthara has too much work for this, reader took a risk but damn is she bad at math.

⋆.˚✰ Minthara ⋆.˚✰ <- Masterlist

Minthara held your waist tight to her, her arm being the only thing keeping you up on her lap. Your head rested on her shoulder as she devoured your neck, all bite and no kiss. This was a punishment after all.

There may have been an incident in class. You had felt ignored lately, Minthara was caught up in her work and hadn't seen you in a while. So, to express your displeasure you had turned your attention to a fellow classmate. You lingered by their desk before class started, leaning towards them a bit too closely. You always stayed there until Dr Baenre barked at her students to sit down. Then you would blow the classmate a kiss and slowly walk back to your seat, a little sway in your hips. But if Minthara was bothered by it, she wasn't letting it show, not any more from her normal cruel demeanour. Which had led to things... escalating.

In hindsight, you were being slightly overdramatic. It had only been a week since your last tryst, but you adored your teacher, worshipped the very ground she walked on and she couldn't even spare you a passing glance?

You had to get her attention somehow and making out with that classmate outside of her classroom door right after class, did that. You knew that Minthara would see it for what it was, a dedicated desperate ploy to get her attention. You felt somewhat bad for your classmate, you were just using them, but in the name of research, sacrifices had to be made, and your methods needed to be tested.

It would be fair to say that this method more than worked.

When the door opened and Minthara stepped through, though you couldn't see her due to the tongue down your throat, you could hear her stilettos, and you could hear them scuff as she took in the sight. She slammed the classroom door shut behind her, startling your subject causing the two of you to pull away. You watched eagerly as she walked off, you could feel the anger radiate from her form. Once she turned round the corner, as if on cue, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out eagerly, shooing away the classmate who disappointingly trudged off. Your face lit up as you saw it was from Minthara.

Office. Now.

You practically skipped to her office, completely unaware of what was ahead of you. Like a rabbit, hopping into the wolf's jaw. You barely managed to close the door behind you when you were yanked into her office and pinned to a nearby wall.

“That was quite a little show you put on for me there,” Minthara practically growled into your ear and your heart raced, she had caged you in with her arms, both of her hands planted firmly on the wall beside your head. You looked up at her with big doe eyes as if you were just the most innocent thing in the whole wide world. Minthara chuckled darkly and rolled her eyes, "Oh it is too late for that, my love. To think whilst I have been slaving away at my research, you have been getting with the first thing that smiled at you."

"You weren't paying attention to me..." You whined lightly, leaning your head back to bare your neck at her. You knew you were playing with fire here, Minthara was an extremely possessive woman, but the pool of heat forming between your legs urged you to get burned.

"Oh the brat look suits you, Y/N." Minthara muttered before crashing her lips onto yours, one hand finding its way around your throat, squeezing the sides lightly. You whimpered and and felt your knees buckle as she assaults your lips, bullying her tongue into your mouth. You instinctively arched your hips towards hers, desperate for contact. Minthara smiles against you and moves her other hand from the wall and hikes your leg up against her hip. She might have missed you, more than she was willing to let on. But she wasn't about to so merciful.

That's how you found yourself in this situation with one had tangled in her hair encouragingly, the other clasped around your mouth, desperately trying to silence the filthy noises leaving your lips. Though, when Minthara thrusted an additional finger into your weeping hole, not even your hand could silence your cries.

Minthara disapprovingly clicked her tongue as she pulled away from your neck, pressing her lips to the corner of your jaw. "Y/N, Y/N, quiet, now. We wouldn't want Professor Dekarios thinking somethings the matter? Have him foolishly bursting in to see you spread out so deliciously for me."

To further her point she tucked her ankle around yours and moved it out, spreading you even further. You whined and squirmed, feeling increasingly exposed and vulnerable. Minthara continued to thrust her fingers in and out of you at a languid, torturous pace.

"Though maybe you would like that, for the rest to see who you belong to." She felt your walls clamped around her and chuckled into your ear, "Of course you like that, Cryso. Worry not, the marks on your neck will show your classmates that you are already spoken for.."

As if to accentuate her point, she nipped at your raw and tender skin again, thrusting deeper into you. You had to bite down on your hand to contain your moans.

"So wet for me, so eager, perhaps I have been neglecting this poor little cunt of yours." Minthara drawled and if you were in your right mind and not in a haze of pleasure you would realise that she was plotting something. She removed her fingers from you and you could have cried as your cunt tried to clamp around air, your building orgasm melting away. If you weren't so distraught, you would have realised she was taking something out of her desk drawer. "Don't worry, I'm sure this will help remind you who you belong to."

You felt something press against your entrance before slipping in with ease, Minthara hadn't been toying with you for no reason, she had been prepping you. You felt the small circular mass took root deep in your cunt. As you were coming to your senses you turned to look at her with slight confusion... that was until the device came to life, and released pleasurable vibrations. Then just as you felt your orgasm returned, they stopped. Minthara pulled your panties back onto you and abruptly pushed you off her lap. You stumbled slightly and looked at her, a pout forming on your lips as you desperately squeezed your thighs together, desperate to chase the long lost high.

"Mmm sweet," Minthara commented as she tasted you on her fingers. She then gave you a curt mischievous smile, "Now, back to class. You know how Dr Lorroakan despises tardiness."

"Mmhmm but-" You were going to add that it would be a shocker if Dr Lorroaken actually showed up, but you were interrupted when an intense vibration tore through you, causing your knees to buckle. You looked up at Minthara with a shocked face. She mocked your previous pout and stood up, walking towards you. She straightened out your blouse, combed her fingers through your unruly hair, if you thought this was an act of kindness - it was, but only to make up for the fact that she then gave you your bag and shoved you out of her office, locking the door promptly afterwards.

You had to take a few deep breaths to ready yourself and start making your way towards Dr Lorroakan's lecture room. The vibrator buzzed at a low level, teasing the build up of an orgasm. You tried to ignore it, but your body couldn't as your thighs continually squeezed together as you walked. Eventually you made it to the lecture room and were aghast to see the actual Dr there, not his diligent assistant Rolan.

"Get in, sit down, don't waste my time more than you lot already have." He snapped, and you had to hide the roll of your eyes as you walked in. When Minthara was rude and mean, it was sexy. When Dr Lorroakan did it was just teeth-gratingly annoying. You managed to get one of the last few seats at the back, it seems your fellow students shared your disdain for the Dr and had all fled to the back. You couldn't help but feel bad for the latecomers who had to sit closer to the man. "I hope you realise how much of an honour it is for you all to actually be taught by me. Dr Lorroakan, master in the history of ancient rituals and myths of the divine."

"Not like it's your job or anything..." You muttered under your breath, earning a few snickers from your peers. Thankfully, Lorroakan was too caught up in himself to hear it. It seemed Minthara was really rubbing off on you.

Speaking of Minthara.

An intense vibration tore through you and you had to disguise your moan as a cough. You shifted in your seat and crossed your legs as if squeezing them together would somehow turn off the vibrator, but it just increased the pressure and brought you closer to the edge. Taking a deep breath, you focused on what the oh so great Dr Lorroakan had to say.

The reason I am here today is due to an assessment by my colleagues. Normally, I would dismiss such trivialities, but due to being assigned a particularly stubborn colleague, I am here."

The door opened, and in walked none other than Minthara. The air in the room shifted as the students sat up straighter, phones hastily put away. It may have not been her class, and some students may not have even ever been taught by Dr Baenre, but her reputation preceded her.

"Ah, Dr. Baenre, so good of you to join us," Lorroakan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he welcomed her in. She strode in casually, her hands in her pockets, a bored look on her face. Her eyes found you and you squirmed under her stare, then squirmed as she increased the vibrations from her phone.

Once she had her fun, Minthara offered a tight smile. "It's my pleasure, Dr. Lorroakan."

She then made her way to the back of the class, kicking a student out their seat and watched them scurry to the front. You couldn't tell if she had looked at you on her way over as your head was buried in your hands as you tried to muffle the moans threatening to leave you. Minthara didn't like that.

"L/N, head up, if you wanted a nap, go see if Miss Alfira will sing you a lullaby," Minthara barked at you as she leant back in the chair. The other students flinched, Dr Baenre never snapped at you, you were the model student - she must have been in an awful mood. You snapped your head up and gave a thin smile, as your teeth gnawed the inside of your lips, the last line of defence. At least everyone would think your flushed face would be out of embarrassment and not the shattering orgasm that was about to tear through you. "Now that I've sorted out your students for you feel free to commence the lectur, Dr Lorroakan, that is unless you need me to do that too?"

"I will be just fine, Dr Baenre," Dr Lorroakan gritted out before flouncing towards the blackboard. You thought that as his back was finally turned you would be able to deal with your release subtly, but Minthara ensured there was nothing to deal with as the vibrations ceased immediately. You couldn't stop the whimper that left your mouth, and you had to quickly convince the students around you that it was a yawn.

Throughout Dr. Lorroakan's lecture, Minthara kept her gaze on you, her subtle manipulations causing waves of arousal to ripple through your body. You squirmed in your seat, trying to focus on the lecture, but it was impossible. The room felt stifling, your senses heightened to an unbearable degree. She always brought you so close to the edge, before being taking it all away. Tears were starting to form in the corner of your eyes, and a thick bead of sweat forming on your forehead.

Dr. Lorroakan, oblivious to your plight, continued his lecture, though he was visibly perturbed by Minthara's constant interruptions and critiques. "Your interpretation of the Cormyrian rituals is outdated, Lorroakan," she said with a thinly veiled sneer. "You fail to consider the recent findings from the Thayan archives."

The students exchanged glances, enjoying the verbal sparring between the two professors. Meanwhile, you were fighting a losing battle against the vibrator. Your breath came in shallow gasps, and you could feel Minthara's eyes boring into the back of your head, relishing in your discomfort. Maybe getting burned was not as fun as you thought it would be.

"What now, Dr. Baenre? Going to critique the way I hold my chalk?" Dr. Lorroakan sneered, clearly irritated by Minthara's interruptions.

"Nonsense, Dr. Lorroakan, don't be so petty," she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "I am simply voicing my concern that you have failed to notice that one of your students is severely unwell."

Her words cut through the air, and the room fell silent. Lorroakan's eyes narrowed as he scanned the room, finally landing on you. Your face was flushed, your hands trembling as you clutched the edge of the desk. His irritation morphed into a mixture of confusion and concern.

"Ah, yes, well... perhaps you should be taken to the nurse's office," he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

Minthara stood gracefully, her movements precise and deliberate. "I'll take her. It's quite alright," she said smoothly.

She moved to your side, her presence calming and authoritative. As she helped you to your feet, you couldn't help but lean into her touch, your body betraying your need for her. Minthara's arm wrapped around your waist, supporting you as she led you out of the classroom. The students' eyes followed you, whispers filling the room in your wake.

Once the door closed behind you, the hallways seemed quieter, almost intimate. Minthara's grip tightened, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, "Are you learning your lesson now, Y/N?"

You nodded frantically, the continual buzz of the vibrator making you desperate for her. "Yes, Minthara, I’ve learned my lesson," you panted, your voice filled with need. You would let her take her right there in the hall if she wanted to. "Please... I need you."

She smirked, clearly pleased with your response. "Good girl. Now did you make a mistake earlier?," she said, her voice low and commanding.

You nodded again, practically begging. "Yes, it was a mistake. Please, Minthara, I need you so much."

"Oh and how I love to punish students who make mistakes," Her eyes darkened with desire as she led you through the halls, her grip never loosening. She navigated the corridors with ease, her focus entirely on you. Each step you took made the need within you grow, and you clung to her, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Finally, you reached her office. Minthara unlocked the door with swift precision and guided you inside. The room was dimly lit, the familiar scent of her perfume and the sight of her meticulously organized space grounding you slightly. She closed the door behind you, the click echoing in the quiet room.

As Minthara turned to face you, her expression a mix of sternness and desire, you couldn't help but fall to your knees. She smiled at your submission and cupped her hand around your cheek. "Do you understand now, Cryso?" she asked, her voice soft but firm, she was now gripping your jaw. "You belong to me."

"Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I belong to you."

A satisfied smile curved her lips as she leaned down to you. "Good," she murmured. "Now, let's make sure you remember that."

Her lips crashed against yours, fierce and possessive. You melted into her embrace, your body responding to her touch with an intensity that left you breathless. She pushed you to the floor, her hands never leaving your body, exploring, claiming, reminding you of who you belonged to. She put her knee between your legs and smiled at how soaked you were.

"Want something, my love?" She teased, her mouth hovering by your ear as you shameless rutted into her knee desperate for release.

"Please, please, please.." you whined and whimpered, tears running freely down your face. Minthara kissed them away, your pleads, sweet music to her ears. "P-please can I cum?"

"Hmmm, I think I have tortured you enough, and you behaved so well in Dr Lorroakan's class..." Minthara hummed, pretending to think bout it as she moved to your neck, kissing the blooming bruises from earlier. You whimpered and cried out again, so sensitive to her touch.

"P-lease, I- I-need you, so badly.."

"Go on then, cum for me my darling.." Minthara whispered into your ear before moving back onto your neck. She moved her fingers down to your soaked core and toyed with your clit. Minthara consumed you, her touch setting your skin on fire. You clung to her, your body a hot mess of desire and need. Finally, your saw white and Minthara had to use her free hand to cover your mouth as you let out ungodly noises, writhing in her hold. Minthara praised you through your orgasm, kissing your neck. It took a short while for you to regain your breath only for it to be taken away again my a rough kiss from Minthara.

Finally, she pulled back, her eyes dark and intense. "You're mine," she whispered, her voice filled with possessive affection. "Never forget that."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "I won't," you promised, your voice raw with emotion. "I’m yours, Minthara."

Thank you everyone for your support on this au ! I love writing it, I think teacher Minthara is the hottest thing in the world rn, definitely not kicking my feet giggling whilst I write her - Seluney x

[moonselune]

✧˖°.Teacher Minthara AU ✧˖°.

⟢ Part 1 ⟢

⟢ Part 2 Nswf ⟢

⟢Best intending fools (part 3)⟢

⟢What lies between us (part 4)⟢

⟢Adore you (part 5)⟢

⟢ Pay Attention ! ⟢

[moonselune]

Teacher!Minthara x Obsessed!Student Pt.2

Part One , Best intending fools (part 3)

MODERN AU | NSWF | MDNI !

Minthara Baenre x F!Reader

CW: Cunnilingus, stalker behaviour from reader, reader gets a bit carried away - whoops!

⋆.˚✰ Minthara ⋆.˚✰ <- Masterlist

You hungrily explored each others' mouths and soon she had swiped the papers off her desk and pushed you onto it, standing between your legs, her thigh applying pressure to your core. You hands lay limp in your lap as she practically devoured you, one of her hands gripped in your hair at the back of your head, keeping her to you. The other hand was firm on your waist.

You felt that feeling build again, a coil within you tighten, the same one you got when you watched Minthara through her office window from the garden, you had often fantasised over moments like this. Your hand subconciously drifting your hand between your legs. You knew it was wrong, filthy even, but you just couldn't help yourself. Minthara was ethereal. Her mind and beauty transcendent. Just the fact that you were actually touching you right now, that her lips were on yours that, her tongue was in your mouth, it was enough for you to just-

Fuck.

That feeling had built, that coil had snapped, and you had found ecstasy between her lips. Leading to a slight mess between your legs.

Minthara pulled away, slight confusion on her face. Her lips were swollen and she was breathing heavily. She looked at you, the way you trembled slightly, a pleased but dazed look in your eye. Recalled the way you had just moaned into her mouth, not a small whiny one she had elicited from your but something much more - intense.

"Did you just-?"

"No!" You said too quickly, panic flashing across your face. A red embarrassed blush blooming on your cheeks. Minthara laughed, not mockingly but in a type of awe. "Shut up."

"Bold of you to speak to your teacher like that." Minthara sharply spoke to you and your heart sank and your mind spiralled. How had you managed to make the situation worse? You were going to lose it all after finally getting it.

"Oh my- I'm so sorry, I don't know what..." Minthara was laughing again, but it wasn't really a laugh more of a chuckle. The sound was beautiful. "You're teasing me."

"I'm teasing you." Minthara affirmed and pulled you in for another kiss, lighter this time. Though if you thought you were going to get away with your little...mess, then you were sorely incorrect.

"You know," she murmured, her voice low and teasing as she pulled away, "I can't help but feel a bit left out."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you realized what she was implying. The memory of your earlier...accident came rushing back to you, and you felt a fresh wave of embarrassment wash over you.

"I-I'm sorry," you stammered, feeling the heat of embarrassment intensify with each passing second. "I didn't mean to...I mean, it's just that..."

Minthara silenced you with a soft laugh, her hand reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. "It's quite all right, my dear," she reassured you, her gaze warm and understanding. "I must admit, I rather enjoyed the effect I have on you"

You couldn't help but feel a surge of relief at her words, the tension in your shoulders easing as you realized that Minthara wasn't upset with you. In fact, if anything, she seemed amused by the whole situation.

"But," Minthara continued, her tone turning playful once more, "I do believe it's only fair that I get my fair share of attention as well."

Your eyes lit up, but before you could do anything, Minthara grabbed your wrists and held them to your chest. She could have looked at your like this for hours. Your lips red, puffy and wet, your eyes wide in adoration, the way you waited on her every word.

"Not here, Cryso, what I want from you, the confines of my office are not equipped to deal with." She released your wrists and took her phone from her pocket. She unlocked it and put it in your hands. You quickly typed your phone number into it, though you made numerous errors from excitement that you had to go back and correct before sheepishly handing it back to her. "7pm tonight, I'll text you my address."

Minthara's house nestled in the forest on the outskirts of town, where tall, imposing trees blocked out the sun. As you drove there, the darkness made it seem like the middle of the night, despite having seen the setting sun just moments ago. You supposed that's why Minthara had chosen to live here. Oh, how you would pull the sun out of the sky and extinguish it for her.

Eventually, you found her house—a large, imposing building painted in dark colors. Nervously, you walked up the porch steps, clutching Minthara's favorite bottle of red wine. If she asked how you knew, you’d plead coincidence, certainly not admitting to stalking her social media, analyzing the restaurants she frequented, and deducing her wine preferences from the menus and her known tastes. Nothing crazy like that.

Gaining access to Minthara's social media had been a challenge; she was a very guarded and intelligent woman. But every wall had its cracks. Her friend Minsc, for example, wasn’t as cautious. His posts mostly featured pictures of his hamster and random statues he found interesting. It was surprisingly easy to access his accounts, considering his password for everything was "Boo123."

Reviewing Minsc’s private messages with Minthara had been a gamble, fearing he might be someone significant to her. But the only notable message was his plaintive "Why did you unfollow me? :("

You weren’t worried.

Minthara greets you at the door with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I'm glad you made it," she says, her voice curt but welcoming. She steps aside to let you in, and you feel a rush of warmth as you cross the threshold into her home. You were in her house, you were actually there.

The interior of Minthara's house mirrors the aesthetic of her office: dark, elegant, and meticulously curated. The walls are painted in deep, rich hues, adorned with framed diplomas, certificates, and photographs of her achievements. Interspersed among these are framed articles and papers highlighting the failures of her academic rivals, almost like a warning to others who would dare to challenge her, you had no doubt that Minthara likely had some part in their downfall.

You follow Minthara through the hallway, your eyes widening as you take in the decor. The furnishings are sophisticated and stylish, with plush, dark-colored sofas and intricate woodwork. You knew Minthara had money, coming from an elite family, but this was money.

As you enter the dining room, the tantalizing aroma of home-cooked food greets you, making your mouth water. The table is elegantly set, with candles casting a warm, flickering light over the dishes laid out before you. Minthara has clearly gone to great lengths to prepare a special meal, and your heart swells with appreciation and excitement.

"You cooked dinner?" you say, your voice filled with awe and gratitude. You had not expected so much - sentiment? "This is amazing, Minthara."

She cooly smiles, a hint of pride in her eyes. "I thought you could do with a reprieve from your usual student diet."

You hum in agreement, a home cooked meal would be a welcome change to your store bought instant noodles. Before you could comment further, your attention is drawn to the terrariums that line the walls, each one containing a different species of spider. You walk over, unable to resist the urge to get a closer look. Among the various spiders, one terrarium stands out, housing several Theraphosa blondi, the giant huntsman spiders. You approach it with a mix of awe and fascination, your eyes wide as you take in their size and beauty. They were an uncommon pet to say the least.

Minthara follows your gaze, her expression curious. "Most people are afraid of spiders," she begins, her voice tinged with amusement. "Especially these ones."

Before she can continue, you turn to her with a grin, your excitement evident. "They're so cute!" you exclaim, your eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. "I've never seen spiders like these up close before. They're amazing!"

Minthara's eyes widen in surprise, then soften with affection. "You're full of surprises, Cryso," she says, her voice warm and approving. "Not many people share my appreciation for these magnificent creatures."

You smile, feeling a rush of pride at her words. "I guess we have more in common than we thought," you reply, turning back to the terrarium to watch the spiders move with grace and precision.

Minthara steps closer to you, her presence warming you. "I'm glad you feel that way," she murmurs, her hand brushing lightly against your arm.

The moment is intimate and charged with unspoken emotion. You feel a deep connection to Minthara, a sense of belonging that you've never felt before. You look up at her with eyes wide with adoration for her. You become overcome with a need to taste her, to press your lips against her though as you move to sate your desire, Minthara steps back cruelly, relishing in your pout.

"After dinner," She playfully scolded you, "You wouldn't want my hard work to go to waste, now would you?"

You blush and shake your head and as you and Minthara move towards the dining room, the aroma of dinner wafts through the air, making your stomach growl with anticipation. You can't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment settle over you as you take your seat at the table, grateful for the opportunity to share this intimate moment with someone as special and revered as Minthara.

Dinner goes smoothly, the conversation flowing easily between you. You talk about your shared love for toxicology, the challenges and triumphs of your research, and your mutual disdain for academic politics. You find yourselves laughing over shared anecdotes and bonding over the similarities in your professional experiences.

"I must admit it is an honour to talk to someone so accomplished as you," you confess, taking a sip of the rich, full-bodied red wine Minthara had chosen. She must have been saving yours for another occasion. "It's refreshing to meet someone who understands."

Minthara smiles, her eyes shining with appreciation. "I've always admired your dedication and passion, (Y/N), it's one of the things that drew me to you in the first place."

You feel a warm flush spread across your cheeks at her words, a sense of pride and validation blooming within you. The rest of the dinner continues in this vein, with the two of you growing closer with each passing moment.

As the meal comes to an end, you glance at the empty plates and rise from your seat. "Let me do the dishes," you offer, wanting to show your appreciation for the delicious meal.

Minthara stands as well, shaking her head with a smile. "No need," she says, her voice soft and inviting. "Let's move straight to dessert."

She takes your hand and leads you out of the dining room, through the darkened hallway, and up the stairs to her bedroom. Your heart pounds in your chest as you follow her, anticipation and desire swirling within you. Minthara's bedroom is as elegantly decorated as the rest of her home, the dark color palette creating an atmosphere of intimacy and mystery.

As you enter the room, Minthara turns to face you, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. She steps closer, her hand gently cupping your cheek, her thumb brushing over your skin. "I've been looking forward to this," she whispers, her voice sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

You don't hesitate this time, closing the distance between you and capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. The world fades away as you lose yourself in her embrace, your heart swelling with a sense of completeness and belonging that you've never known before. This moment, this connection, is everything you've ever wanted and more.

Minthara pulls you closer, her hands roaming over your back as the kiss deepens, the unspoken bond between you growing stronger with each passing second. The rest of the world ceases to exist as you happily surrender to the intensity of Minthara's desire.

You undress each other with a ferocity that is damn near animalistic. Your mouths barely separating as you did, it didn't take long until you were both fully naked, hands desperately groping at each other. You couldn't help but feel yourself got overexcited and you remembered the exact reason why you were here. It was Minthara's turn.

Wordlessly you moved down her neck, kissing and nipping at her skin as if in need of approval. Once you got to her clavicle you dropped to your knees, arms encircling her waist as you looked up to her with a smile that you tried your hardest to seem innocent. Minthara chuckled and stroked your hair affectionately. You had taken that as approval for your actions and before Minthara could speak a word you pushed her back onto the edge of the bed, so her torso lay back and she presented herself perfectly to you. You eagerly spread her legs and dived into her cunt, encouraged by how wet she already was.

Minthara gasped, fingers curling into dark satin sheets as you ate her out like it was your final meal. As if she was the first drop of water after a drought. She was glad to see you were a dedicated lover just as much as a dedicated student.

You sucked and licked her clit, slurping at it lewdly. At some point Minthara had tangled her fingers in your hair and pulled at it every time you hit a sweet spot. You would take small breaks, kissing and biting the inside of her thigh before going back to your main meal.

Nose nudging against her clit you dove your tongue into her entrance, earning a harsher yank on your hair and a beautiful moan from her lips. You would happily go bald if it meant you could hear those moans all day. Relentlessly you continued to tongue fuck her, intermittently stopping to pay proper attention to her clit. Soon her thighs began to clench around your head and you could tell she was close. You kept up the pace and soon enough you felt her walls spasm around your tongue and she came straight into your mouth.

You took it all, not letting anything go to waste, ignoring how Minthara's nails dug into your scalp with the overstimulation. Once you were done you pulled away, moving up her body and resting your chin on her stomach, arms encircling her waist as your core rested against her throbbing one. You sheepishly watched with a smile as Minthara caught her breath, she looked at you in a smile of almost disbelief. Who knew her perfect student could be so.. nasty. She moved her hand from your hair and caressed it down your face till she cupped your cheek.

"That was amazing, Cryso," Minthara praised and your smile widened, your lips glossy with the residue of her cunt. Minthara quickly sat up and pulled you to her, desperate to get a taste of herself after you had tasted her so beautifully.

"Cryso," You parroted back, you had tried to search up the meaning previously but had not come to a conclusive answer on its true meaning. "Tell me what it means."

"It means rose, in my mother tongue," Minthara told her wistfully, "When I first talked to you in my office you blushed so deeply it reminded me of a rose."

Your heart warmed and you could feel your face do the same, as if your body was just there to prove Minthara right. You looked downwards and Minthara used her index finger to lift your chin straight back up, biting your lips into a rough kiss. Eventually she pinned you to the bed, relishing in your pathetic gasps, as if you hadn't just eaten her out like a whore. It was her turn for dessert now.

If you want more lmk below!

[moonselune]

By the Silk that Binds Us (pt.8 )

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Matron!Minthara x Forced!Betrothed!reader

CW: murder, gore, suggestive scenes

An arranged marriage, enemies to lovers fic: part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part nine

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The days following that night brought a shift between you and Minthara. The tension that had once crackled like a live wire between you both began to ease, replaced by something more complex—an uneasy truce, perhaps, but one laced with a thread of understanding. Despite this, your magic remained an uncontrollable tempest, its power unpredictable and dangerous, and the rebellion you had orchestrated still lingered in Minthara’s mind.

You threw yourself into the task of planning the upcoming ball that House Baenre was hosting, hoping that focusing on the details would keep your mind from the chaos within you. However, you found yourself constantly having to step away from your work, retreating to a quiet corner to try and reign in the wild surges of magic that threatened to escape. Servants watched you with growing concern, whispering among themselves as they saw the strain in your eyes, the way your hands trembled ever so slightly as you fought to keep your power in check.

“Should we fetch a healer, my lady?” one of them asked, her voice laced with worry.

“No,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Really.”

You weren’t fine, and they knew it, but none dared to press the issue further. They simply nodded and stepped back, continuing their tasks with a wariness that hadn’t been there before. Another servant approached you, bowing slightly as he spoke. “My lady, it is time to get ready.”

You sighed, the thought of facing another night of maintaining your composure exhausting you further. Still, you nodded and made your way to your quarters, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead.

When you entered your room, you found Minthara already there, in the midst of getting dressed. She was wearing a gown of deep crimson and black, the colors of House Baenre, the fabric clinging to her form in a way that accentuated every curve. You hated to admit it, but she looked beautiful, a sight that stirred something complicated within you.

Minthara caught your gaze in the mirror, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in your weary expression.

“You look like you’re about to drop,” she remarked, her voice casual but tinged with concern. “Have you used any of your magic today?”

“No,” you replied quickly, your tone firm. “I’m not risking hurting anyone, and I’m not going back to the depths of the Underdark. I’m handling it.”

Minthara’s lips curved into a bemused smile, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she stepped closer to you, her hands reaching out to help you with your dress. At first, you wanted to tell her you could manage it yourself, that you didn’t need her assistance. But as her fingers deftly worked the clasps and fastenings, you found yourself appreciating the help more than you expected.

When she was finished, you picked up the necklace—the collar—and passed it to her, a flicker of irritation flashing in your eyes as you did. Minthara caught the look but said nothing, taking the collar from you and stepping behind you to fasten it around your neck. Her touch was gentle, almost tender, as she adjusted the pendant to rest perfectly against your skin.

As she secured the clasp, she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear.

“It suits you,” she murmured, her lips brushing the shell of your ear before pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You sighed, rolling your eyes at the words, though you couldn’t deny the shiver that ran down your spine at her touch.

“We have a ball to attend,” you reminded her, trying to maintain your composure.

Minthara stepped back, her hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment longer before she released you. When you looked at her in the mirror, she was smiling—a smile that was all too familiar to you now, one that sent a chill of anticipation down your spine. It was a smile that promised something more, something you knew you wouldn’t like.

“Indeed we do,” Minthara replied, her voice laced with excitement. The look in her eyes as she turned away left you with a sense of foreboding. You had known her long enough to understand that nothing good ever came from that smile. And yet, despite the unease that settled in your stomach, you couldn’t help but feel that whatever was coming, you would face it head-on. There was no turning back now.

The ball was in full swing, and you found yourself in the center of it all, surrounded by guests who lavished you with praise. Compliments flowed like the wine being poured into goblets—your dress, your necklace, your impeccable taste, all admired by nobles and sycophants alike. It all blended into one monotonous drone, a never-ending stream of empty flattery that only added to the pounding in your head.

You had thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, but it had. The dull ache had transformed into a relentless, searing agony that pulsed in your temples, your neck, and down through your shoulders. It was as if your entire body was on edge, teetering on the brink of something you couldn’t control. You kept drinking wine, hoping it might dull the pain, but no matter how much you consumed, it was as if the alcohol refused to take hold. You were still painfully sober when Minthara noticed and cut you off, her eyes sharp as she took the goblet from your hand.

Before you could argue, Lesaonar appeared at your side, his usual grin plastered across his face. With a quick glance around to ensure Minthara wasn’t watching, he slipped you another glass of wine.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, his tone light, but there was genuine concern in his eyes.

You glared at him, not trusting yourself to speak without lashing out. The pain, the pressure, the noise—it was all becoming too much. Lesaonar opened his mouth to say something more but then caught sight of a young woman across the room, his expression shifting from concern to something more playful.

“Who is that?” he asked, his voice filled with a sudden eagerness. You followed his gaze and recognized the woman instantly.

“That’s Minthara’s second cousin, Melinoe,” you replied, a strain in your voice as you tried to manage the pain. “One of their best fighters.”

Lesaonar immediately straightened, smoothing his clothes and adjusting his stance, smoothing his hair out. “She is stunning,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite everything. “She’ll eat you alive, Lesaonar,” you warned, shaking your head.

Lesaonar winked at you, his grin widening. “At least I’ll die happy,” he quipped before striding off in Melinoe’s direction, his confidence radiating off him in waves.

You watched him go, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. But the moment of levity was short-lived. As soon as Lesaonar disappeared into the crowd, Minthara materialized at your side, her hand darting out to snatch the wine from your grasp.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, her eyes narrowing.

“Having a drink,” you replied, your voice sharper than you intended. The pain in your head was getting worse, and your patience was wearing thin.

“We’ve talked about this,” Minthara said, her tone laced with irritation. “You’re not drinking anymore tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, your hand twitching with the urge to snatch the goblet back from her. “I’m fine, Minthara. Just leave it.”

“No, you’re not fine,” she snapped. “And we’re not going to make a scene here.”

“We wouldn’t be making a scene if you’d just let me—”

Before you could finish, the doors to the grand hall burst open with a thunderous crash, cutting your argument short. All heads turned towards the entrance as a group of armed figures stormed in, their weapons drawn and eyes blazing with a fanatical intensity. The room fell silent, the music dying out as guests scrambled to make sense of what was happening.

You recognized them immediately—the Seldarine extremists, a faction of elven zealots who had long opposed Lolth and everything she stood for. They were known for their ruthless attacks on drow strongholds, and now, it seemed, they had come for House Baenre.

Chaos erupted as the extremists fanned out across the room, their leader stepping forward to address the crowd. You could feel Minthara tense beside you, her hand instinctively reaching for the weapon she always kept hidden beneath her gown. Your own heart pounded in your chest, the pain in your head forgotten in the face of this new threat.

“Daughters and bastards of Lolth,” the leader spat, his voice ringing out across the hall. “Tonight, your tyranny ends.”

The room was frozen in shock, the guests too stunned to react. But you knew what was coming next, the violence that would inevitably follow. Minthara’s eyes locked onto yours, a silent understanding passing between you. You were hosting the ball, it was up to the two of you to deal with the vermin.

The air crackled with tension, and you could feel the magic within you stir, responding to the imminent danger. It was as if the tempest inside you had found its purpose, the chaos outside matching the storm that had been building within you for days.

The Seldarine extremists began to make their demands, their leader stepping forward with a sneer on his face.

“Hand over your young,” he declared, his voice ringing out with a fanatic’s conviction. “Free the innocent from Lolth’s grasp, or perish!”

A murmur of shock rippled through the assembled guests, but before anyone could react, you began to laugh. The sound echoed through the hall, loud and unrestrained, cutting through the tension like a knife. It wasn’t a nervous or incredulous laugh but one filled with a dark amusement that sent shivers down the spines of those present.

Without realizing it, you stepped forward, the crowd parting around you as if making way for the force of your presence. Minthara stood just behind you, her eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and pride as she watched you take command of the room.

You wiped a tear from your eye, your laughter dying down into a mirthful chuckle as you addressed the extremists.

“Really?” you said, your voice carrying an almost mocking tone. “You storm into the most powerful house in Menzoberranzan and demand we hand over our young? Or we perish?”

The extremists bristled, their leader snarling in response. But before he could shout something back, you raised your hand, and with a flick of your wrist, your magic surged forward, silencing them. The power within you, which had been simmering and bubbling under the surface for days, now practically hummed with anticipation, eager to be unleashed.

Your head no longer throbbed with pain; instead, it was filled with the intoxicating hum of your magic, a melody that sang for blood, for retribution. You could feel the eyes of every guest on you, and you relished the attention, the power that coursed through you as you let your magic flow freely.

“Fools,” you murmured, your voice dripping with disdain as you surveyed the extremists. “You’ve chosen the wrong house to make demands of.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you began to work your magic. It wasn’t enough to simply kill them; they needed to be an example, a warning to anyone who might think to challenge House Baenre—or you.

One by one, you picked them apart, using your powers to tear through their ranks. You transformed some of them halfway into driders, letting the grotesque transformation begin but not complete, so they died in agony, caught between two forms, their bodies breaking under the strain. The sight was horrifying, and their screams echoed in the grand hall, but you felt nothing but satisfaction as you watched them suffer.

Others, you mutilated with strands of divine silk, wrapping them in a web of your making, tightening it around their bodies until their blood seeped through the silk, leaving them to bleed out slowly. The silk shimmered in the dim light of the hall, beautiful in its deadliness, and you made sure everyone saw just how delicately you wielded your power.

Minthara watched, her eyes wide with awe, a twisted smile of approval playing on her lips. She had seen you use your magic before, but never like this. This was a display of pure, unrestrained power, and she could hardly tear her eyes away from the spectacle.

As the last of the Seldarine extremists crumpled to the ground, the silence in the grand hall was deafening. Blood pooled on the marble floors, the once pristine surfaces now stained with the crimson evidence of your wrath. The oppressive tension that had gripped the room during the attack remained, but it had shifted—no longer the tension of fear, but of awe and trepidation directed at you.

The power coursing through you was exhilarating, intoxicating. The pain in your head had vanished, replaced by the euphoria of having unleashed your magic in all its terrible glory. But as the adrenaline began to fade, you felt the toll it had taken on you. Your hands started to tremble, and the room swayed slightly as exhaustion threatened to drag you down. The power that had surged through you now felt like a weight, pressing down on you with the intensity of a thousand voices, each one whispering for more, demanding more.

Before you could stumble, Minthara was at your side. Her strong arms wrapped around you, holding you upright with a firmness that was both reassuring and infuriating. She was steady, her presence grounding you, but you could feel the tension in her grip, the realization that you had just displayed a level of power that even she had not fully anticipated.

“You’ve done enough,” she whispered, her voice low and meant only for your ears. “Let’s get you out of here.”

But before you could respond, a group of female nobles caught your attention, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. They were from rival houses, lesser in power but always eager to curry favor with the Baenre family. Yet now, seeing your vulnerability, they smelled blood in the water.

One of them, a tall, elegantly dressed woman with a sneer that barely hid her amusement, spoke up to the room.

“Such a display of power, from the mistress,” she drawled, her voice dripping with mockery. “But it seems she's exhausted herself. Perhaps the Matron should not have chosen her Mistress from the pits of the underdark."

The other nobles who hoped to undermine you snickered, their eyes gleaming with barely contained contempt. It was a grave mistake.

Minthara stiffened at your side, ready to lash out, but you stopped her with a raised hand. The anger that had begun to simmer within you flared into a blazing inferno and the violent adrenaline came racing back with a vengeance. How dare they? How dare they question your strength, your authority, after what they had just witnessed? The very thought of their insolence made your blood boil.

“You dare to mock me?” you hissed, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade. The nobles faltered, their smug expressions faltering as they realized the extent of their miscalculation, they had not expected you to make such a miraculous recovery.

Before they could react, you unleashed your fury upon them. You didn’t need grand gestures or complex spells—your power flowed with the ease of a predator toying with its prey. The first woman, the one who had spoken, found herself lifted off the ground by invisible tendrils of magic, her limbs splayed out as if on display. The others screamed, scrambling to flee, but they were no match for you. With a flick of your wrist, they were frozen in place, held by your will alone.

You could see the terror in their eyes as they realized there would be no mercy, no escape from the wrath they had provoked. You took your time, savoring the fear that radiated from them as you twisted the magic around them, each tendril tightening like a vice. Their screams echoed through the hall, blending with the shocked gasps of the onlookers.

Their deaths were not quick. You made sure of that. They suffered, their bodies contorting in unnatural angles as the magic tore through them, leaving them bloody and broken. The crowd watched in horrified silence, too terrified to intervene, too mesmerized by the brutality to look away.

As the last of the nobles succumbed to their fate, you felt a surge of energy flood back into you, as if their deaths had replenished the power you had spent. It was as if the blood they spilled had been a sacrifice to your magic, a dark offering that Lolth herself accepted with delight. The weakness that had threatened to overwhelm you was gone, replaced by a renewed strength that coursed through your veins with an exhilarating intensity.

Lolth was pleased.

You straightened, the tremor in your hands gone, the exhaustion replaced by a cold, focused determination. You turned to Minthara, who was watching you with a mixture of pride and something else—perhaps awe, or maybe a flicker of fear. It didn’t matter. You had shown everyone here who you truly were, and there would be no forgetting it.

“Meet me in our quarters,” you commanded, your voice leaving no room for argument.

Minthara inclined her head in acknowledgment, her eyes gleaming with approval.

“As you wish,” she replied, her tone reverent, almost hungry.

Without another word, you stormed out of the grand hall, your steps echoing in the stunned silence that followed. The doors to the hall slammed shut behind you, sealing off the carnage and the whispers of fear that would undoubtedly follow in your wake.

The night was not over, but for now, you needed to be alone—to let the tempest within you settle, to revel in the power you had unleashed and the chaos you had sown. You could feel the eyes of the nobles on your back as you left, the weight of their fear and respect settling around you like a cloak.

They would not forget what they had seen tonight. Neither would Minthara. But as you ascended the stairs to your quarters, one thought lingered in your mind, clear and cold:

You were no longer just a force to be reckoned with—you were a storm, and all who stood in your path would be swept away.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As the door to your quarters slammed shut behind you, the tension that had been simmering throughout the night reached a boiling point. The remnants of the ball, the bloodshed, and the raw power you had unleashed still thrummed through your veins, a dark symphony that pulsed with every heartbeat. Your quarters, once a sanctuary, now felt charged with an energy that had no outlet, a storm contained within four walls.

Minthara walked in, her posture was relaxed, but her eyes were sharp, calculating as they traced every step you took toward her. She was no fool; she knew why you had summoned her, and the anticipation of the confrontation crackled in the air between you.

“You planned this,” you said, your voice low and laced with accusation. There was no question in your tone—only a statement of fact. “This was the fruit of your manipulations, wasn’t it?”

Minthara didn’t flinch or deny it. Instead, she met your gaze with a calm, steady look that spoke of someone who had nothing to hide.

“And if it was?” she replied, her tone as cool as her expression. “Would you be angry, or impressed?”

“I would be impressed,” you admitted, your voice tinged with bitter amusement, “if I weren’t so vexed by it.”

Minthara’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that held neither apology nor regret.

“I hope you’re not looking for an apology,” she said, her voice smooth and unyielding. “You won’t get one. You looked divine tonight, ethereal. The pain you’ve been suffering is gone, and I’m your wife. I won’t apologize for doing what was necessary to see you in your true form.”

You laughed, the sound echoing off the walls, dark and mirthless.

“Grateful? Like I should be grateful for this?” you asked, your hand gesturing toward the collar around your neck. The collar that had been a symbol of control, of submission. The collar that had marked you as hers. Without waiting for her response, you reached up and grasped the collar, your fingers tightening around it. With a surge of power, you pulled it from your neck, and it disintegrated in your hold, crumbling into dust that slipped through your fingers.

Minthara’s eyes narrowed as she watched the collar disintegrate, but she didn’t move. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. Instead, she watched you with an intensity that was almost predatory, as if waiting to see what you would do next.

Emboldened by the dark power that roared through you, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you and Minthara. Her eyes flickered with something that might have been caution, but there was also desire there, simmering just beneath the surface.

“There are other ways to claim me, you know, ways for me to claim you,” you said, your voice dropping to a husky whisper as you stopped inches from her. Your breath mingled with hers, the air between you charged with anticipation.

Minthara’s eyes darkened, her pupils dilating as she took in the challenge in your gaze, the power that radiated from you like heat from a fire. She reached out, her hand cupping your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over your skin. Her touch was possessive, yet tender, as if she was savoring the moment, the power shift between you.

“Then show me,” she murmured, her voice a low, dangerous purr that sent a thrill down your spine.

That was all the invitation you needed.

With a growl of desire, you closed the remaining distance between you, your lips crashing into hers with a force that was almost violent. There was nothing gentle about the kiss—it was a clash of wills, of power, of dominance. Minthara responded in kind, her hands tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as if she couldn’t get enough of you. The kiss was fierce, frenzied, a battle for control that neither of you was willing to lose.

The dark power within you surged, feeding off the intensity of the moment, amplifying every sensation until it felt as if you were drowning in it. Your hands roamed over Minthara’s body, fingers digging into her skin as you sought to claim her just as much as she sought to claim you. There was a desperation in your movements, a need to assert yourself, to prove that you were not just a pawn in her game.

Clothes were torn away with little regard for their worth, discarded carelessly as the two of you moved toward the bed. The room seemed to blur around you, the only clarity found in the heat of Minthara’s body against yours, the taste of her on your lips, the sound of her breath mingling with yours.

You pushed her down onto the bed, your hands pinning her wrists above her head as you leaned over her, your hair falling around your faces like a curtain. Her eyes were wild, pupils blown wide with desire, her chest heaving as she looked up at you with a mixture of defiance and need.

“You think you can control me,” you whispered against her lips, your voice a dangerous murmur. “But there’s a fire within me that can’t be tamed.”

Minthara’s lips curved into a wicked smile, her teeth grazing your bottom lip as she pulled you down into another searing kiss. “I don’t want to tame you,” she replied, her voice breathless yet filled with conviction. “I want to burn with you.”

And burn you did.

The night was a blur of passion and power, of dominance and submission, the lines between the two blurring until you were no longer sure where one ended and the other began. The dark magic within you flowed freely, unchecked, feeding off the intensity of your connection with Minthara. It was as if the power itself had become an extension of your desire, heightening every touch, every kiss, until it felt as if you might shatter under the weight of it.

But you didn’t shatter. Instead, you rose higher, the power lifting you both to a plane of pleasure that was almost transcendent. Minthara’s cries of pleasure filled the room, mingling with your own as you both lost yourselves in the frenzy of the moment.

When it was over, you lay together, bodies entwined, the remnants of your passion still simmering in the air. The power within you had settled, sated for now, but you could still feel its presence, a dark, comforting hum that resonated within your very soul.

Minthara’s fingers traced patterns on your skin, her touch gentle now, almost reverent. She looked at you with an expression that was equal parts admiration and respect, a look that told you that, in this moment, she saw you as her equal, her partner.

“You were magnificent,” she murmured, her voice filled with a rare softness that you had seldom heard from her.

You smiled, a small, satisfied smile that held the knowledge of your shared victory. “So were you,” you replied, your voice low and husky.

For a moment, you simply lay there, basking in the afterglow of the night’s events, the tension between you eased by the understanding that had been forged in the fire of your passion.

But as you closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep in Minthara’s arms, you knew that this was only the beginning. The power within you was still there, still waiting, and the game between you and Minthara was far from over.

There were still battles to be fought, still power to be claimed.

And together, you would face them, side by side, as equals.

You wake slowly, the haze of sleep lingering in your mind like a soft, comforting fog. Your body feels heavy but not unpleasantly so, as if still buzzing from the events of the previous night. The memories come back in fragments—the thrill of your power, the fear in the eyes of the nobles, the way Minthara had stood by your side through it all. You shift slightly, realizing with a start that for once, you've woken before her.

Minthara lies beside you, her face peaceful in sleep, a stark contrast to the fierce warrior you know so well. Her silver hair is tousled, spilling over the pillow and onto your chest. The sight stirs something deep within you, something you had been reluctant to acknowledge, but could no longer ignore.

Careful not to wake her, you gently draw her closer, slipping your arm around her waist and pressing her against you. She nestles into your embrace unconsciously, her breath warm against your skin. You allow your head to rest on her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing, the rhythm soothing your still racing thoughts.

Your fingers find their way to her hair, stroking the silken strands with a tenderness that surprises even you. As you do, you feel the weight of what has been growing between you, something far deeper than mere physical attraction or the alliance forged in the heat of battle. Without needing to say the words, you know what it is—what it has become.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The gesture is intimate, far more so than any you've shared before. It’s as if by doing so, you’re acknowledging the bond between you, even if you’re not ready to say it out loud.

The kiss seems to stir her. Minthara shifts slightly, her eyes still closed, and she mumbles in a sleepy, teasing voice, "Are you trying to assassinate me?"

You chuckle softly, the sound low and warm in the quiet of the morning. "If I were, you'd already be dead," you reply, your tone light. "No, I’m just showing you a bit of affection."

One of her eyes cracks open, glinting with mischief as she regards you. "Affection?" she echoes, feigning shock. "Perhaps that display of magic last night affected you more than I originally thought."

You laugh, shaking your head at her teasing. "Don’t be ridiculous," you say, giving her a playful shove. But instead of moving away, Minthara only presses closer, her arms winding around you as she nuzzles against your neck.

For a moment, you simply hold her, enjoying the rare quiet and the warmth of her body against yours. The foolish words of "I love you" hover on the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill out before you can stop them. But just as you’re about to give voice to them, the door to your chambers swings open with a forceful bang, shattering the intimate moment.

The High Priestess of House Baenre strides in, her expression stern, eyes blazing with barely contained fury. The tension that had been momentarily absent returns in an instant, filling the room with a palpable charge.

She doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. "You’ve caused quite a stir," she begins, her voice sharp. "Your little display of power last night—what were you thinking, child? You’ve drawn far too much attention to yourself and to this house."

You can feel Minthara stiffen in your arms, but before you can respond, she sits up, fixing the High Priestess with a glare.

"Is that why you’re angry?" she demands, her tone cold and unyielding. "Because of the recklessness, or because you’re worried that people might start to believe she’s more powerful than you?"

The High Priestess’s gaze snaps to Minthara, her eyes narrowing in warning. "Mind your tongue, Minthara. This is not a game. There are forces at work that you do not fully understand."

"And you do?" Minthara shoots back, her voice dripping with challenge. "Or are you just afraid of what it means if she is more powerful?"

The High Priestess ignores Minthara's provocation and turns her attention back to you.

"People will start to ask questions about your power, about who you really are," she says, her voice lowering as if the walls themselves might be listening. "And if they find out that you are related to Eilistraee, it will cause chaos."

A cold, bitter laugh escapes you before you can stop it. "Eilistraee? Is that what you think?" You meet her gaze evenly, your voice steady and firm. "I am a descendant of Lolth. And even you would be wise to remember that."

For a moment, the High Priestess falters, her composure slipping just enough to reveal the doubt lurking beneath. But she recovers quickly, her expression hardening. "Be that as it may, the Seldarine will not care. If they realize who you are—what you could stand for—there will be a reckoning. For you, and for this house."

With that, she turns on her heel and sweeps out of the room, leaving behind a silence thick with unresolved tension. Minthara sighs deeply, the sound filled with frustration and exasperation.

"I much preferred it when the High Priestess was more involved in our sex life than in our political one," she mutters, her tone dry.

Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh. "Careful," you warn, your voice light. "She might hear you."

Minthara smirks, finally relaxing against you once more. "Let her. We have more important things to worry about."

You nod, your thoughts racing. The High Priestess’s words had been meant to admonish, to warn, but they had only solidified your resolve. Whatever was coming—whatever reckoning might be on the horizon—you knew you would face it head-on, just as you had everything else. And as Minthara settled against you once more, you realized that you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Dismissing the High Priestess' words with ease, a lightness in your step, you get dressed, opting for one of the new Baenre-colored outfits. Minthara had returned to her duties, dealing with the aftermath of last night. Humming a tune, you make your way through the grand halls of House Baenre, greeting the servants and nobles you pass. Their surprised glances don’t bother you—in fact, they amuse you. Today, nothing could bring you down.

Your wanderings take you to the dormitory where the younger girls of the house reside. As you enter, the girls look up from their morning routines, eyes wide with excitement. They swarm around you, eager to hear about the events of the ball last night. Their questions come rapid-fire, each one more enthusiastic than the last.

"What was it like?" one of the girls asks, eyes sparkling with awe.

"Did you really fight off those intruders all by yourself?" another chimes in.

"Is it true you made a noble’s head explode just by looking at them?"

You chuckle, feeling a warmth in your chest at their admiration. “Yes, yes,” you say, holding up your hands to quiet them down, “but that’s not why I’m here today.” You glance around the room, a playful glint in your eye. “I’ve decided that training is cancelled.”

The girls gasp, exchanging shocked and excited looks. Before they can process what that means, you continue, “Instead, we’re going on an excursion. Into the Underdark wilderness.”

Their excitement is palpable, and they immediately start chattering amongst themselves, rushing to get into their armor. The thought of an adventure, especially one led by you, has them buzzing with anticipation. As the girls prepare, Tirael, steps in. She looks at you with a mix of concern and respect.

“Mistress,” she begins carefully, “while you do not need the Matron’s permission for such an excursion, it would be wise to inform her of your plans.”

You wave off her concern with a dismissive gesture. “Minthara will understand,” you say confidently, your mood too buoyant to worry about the repercussions.

Tirael hesitates for a moment, clearly weighing the options, but she can see that your mind is made up. With a respectful nod, she acquiesces. “As you wish, Mistress.”

The girls, now fully armored and armed, line up excitedly, ready for whatever lies ahead. You can feel their energy feeding into yours, and as you lead them out of the dormitory, you can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement yourself. The Underdark wilderness is vast and dangerous, but with your newfound strength and control, you’re confident that today will be yet another testament to your growing power.

As you march through the halls, the girls trailing behind you in a disciplined line, you can’t help but smile. Today is going to be a good day.

Then the young girls, who were just moments ago buzzing with excitement, suddenly stiffen, their postures snapping to attention. You follow their gaze and spot Minthara approaching, her presence commanding immediate respect and fear among the younger drow.

But you? You pay no heed to the tension around you. With the same buoyant energy that has been carrying you all morning, you glide over to Minthara, your smile unbothered by the weight of her stern gaze.

"Minthara, darling," you say, your voice light and teasing, "the girls and I are heading out for a little adventure into the Underdark wilderness. You should come with us. It’ll be fun.”

Minthara regards you with a mixture of amusement and irritation, a brow arching as if to silently question your audacity.

“I have work to do,” she replies curtly, her tone leaving little room for argument. You sigh dramatically, rolling your eyes with an exaggerated flair.

“Ah, always the diligent one,” you say, turning your back to her as you begin to walk back to the girls. “The matron is too boring to join us, girls,” you announce loudly, causing a few of the girls to giggle nervously. Then, in an exaggeratedly loud whisper, you lean towards them, “Really, she’s just a scaredy cat.”

The girls’ eyes widen in shock and amusement at your audacity, while a few stifle their laughter behind their hands. Minthara, standing behind you, lets out a huff of frustration, her lips curling into a thin line. She’s clearly irked by your teasing, and you know just how to push her buttons. You glance over your shoulder, giving her a playful wink, fully expecting her to stand her ground and scold you in the process.

Instead, Minthara’s eyes narrow, and in a tone dripping with challenge, she snaps, “Fine. I’ll join you, but don’t expect me to rescue you if you get into trouble.”

The girls, barely able to contain their excitement, exchange eager glances. The thought of the matron joining them on such a dangerous outing fills them with both trepidation and a fierce desire to impress her. You simply smile, pleased with yourself for goading her into coming along.

Once outside, the group mounts their spiders, the massive arachnids clicking their mandibles in anticipation. As you make your way to your own mount, you notice Minthara getting ready to take her place atop her spider. An idea pops into your head, and with a mischievous grin, you swiftly slip in front of her just as she’s about to mount.

Without a word, you take the reins from her hands, feeling her sharp intake of breath as she stares at you in disbelief. For a moment, the air between you is thick with tension, her ruby eyes boring into yours with a mix of shock and irritation.

“How bold of you,” she murmurs, the words carrying both a hint of admiration and a clear warning. You simply grin up at her, unbothered by the potential consequences.

“Well, you know me,” you say with a playful shrug.

Minthara’s gaze doesn’t waver as she snatches the reins back from you, her expression unreadable. But instead of shoving you aside, allowing you to fall into the dirt, she surprises you by allowing you to remain where you are, in front of her on the spider. She clicks her tongue, commanding the spider to move, and it responds instantly, its legs moving with eerie grace as it carries both of you towards the Underdark wilderness.

The girls, now even more eager to impress with Minthara in attendance, follow closely behind, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear. You can’t help but feel a thrill of satisfaction. Not only have you managed to drag Minthara into your plans, but you’ve also secured a spot in the best seat possible—right in front of her.

As you lead the procession into the dark expanse of the Underdark, you can feel Minthara’s presence behind you, solid and reassuring, even if tinged with annoyance. The wild, untamed energy of the Underdark beckons, and with your wife and the young Baenre girls in tow, you’re more than ready to face whatever comes next.

With the spiders securely tethered and the guards standing vigilant, you lead the group toward a narrow crevice in the stone, hidden away from prying eyes. The girls, wide-eyed and full of nervous excitement, follow your every move, their whispers barely audible over the distant echoes of the Underdark. You pause at the entrance, throwing them a mischievous wink before stepping into the darkness. In an instant, you drop and disappear from view.

Minthara’s eyes narrow as she watches you vanish. Though wary, she quickly gestures for the girls to follow her.

"Stay close and don’t wander," she commands, her tone leaving no room for disobedience. With that, she steps into the crevice, vanishing into the shadows.

A split second later, Minthara finds herself freefalling into the abyss, the sensation of weightlessness both startling and exhilarating. Just as quickly, she lands softly on a bed of thick, sponge-like mushrooms, their surface yielding beneath her feet. She takes a moment to steady herself, her eyes adjusting to the dim light that begins to illuminate her surroundings.

What she sees takes her breath away.

The cove is a hidden gem within the Underdark, a secret sanctuary bathed in the ethereal glow of bioluminescent fungi and crystals embedded in the cave walls. The light reflects off the surfaces, casting a myriad of colors that dance across the stone. Spiders, each one appearing as though they were sculpted from precious gems, scuttle about, their bodies shimmering with the same bioluminescence that lights the cave. The webs they spin glisten like threads of silver, catching the light in a dazzling display.

Minthara, typically so composed and fierce, finds herself momentarily awestruck. This place, so secluded and beautiful, is a stark contrast to the harshness of the Underdark she’s accustomed to. She barely notices you as you walk by her, a smile playing on your lips as you help the other girls make their descent.

One by one, the young drow leap from the crevice, landing on the soft mushrooms with quiet gasps of surprise and wonder. Their usual bravado and discipline give way to wide-eyed astonishment as they take in their surroundings. Once everyone has gathered, you turn to them, your voice firm but soft.

“This is a sacred place,” you say, your tone commanding their attention. “Be quiet, don’t touch anything, and stay close. We are guests here.”

The girls nod eagerly, their eyes darting around in awe as they follow you and Minthara deeper into the cove. The atmosphere is thick with anticipation, every footstep echoing faintly against the cave walls. The deeper you go, the more vibrant the glow becomes, until you reach the heart of the cove.

There, in the center of the chamber, sits the Spider Matriarch.

The creature is enormous, easily towering over even the largest of the Baenre guards. Her body shimmers like she’s been carved from a single, flawless diamond, each facet catching the light and reflecting it in dazzling arrays. Her many eyes, each a deep, dark gemstone, survey the intruders with a cold, calculating intelligence.

Minthara immediately steps in front of the girls, her hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her weapon. Her protective stance is unwavering, even as she recognizes the power and majesty of the creature before her. She spares you a glance, questioning, as if asking whether this was all part of your plan.

“Wait here,” you instruct, your voice calm and steady. You step forward, moving with deliberate grace toward the Spider Matriarch. The air is thick with tension as you approach, the girls watching with bated breath. Minthara’s grip tightens on her weapon, ready to strike if necessary.

When you reach the Matriarch, you lower yourself into a ritualistic bow, your movements precise and respectful. The chamber is silent, the only sound the faint rustling of the smaller spiders as they move about their webbed domain. For a moment, nothing happens, and the tension in the air is almost unbearable.

Then, slowly, the Matriarch’s massive body shifts, her many legs relaxing as she acknowledges your presence. The danger passes, and the aura of threat dissipates, replaced by a silent understanding.

You straighten, turning back to the group with a beckoning gesture. “It’s safe,” you say, your voice breaking the silence. “Come forward.”

The girls, still wide-eyed with wonder, hesitate for only a moment before they begin to move, their steps tentative as they approach the Matriarch. Minthara is the last to follow, her eyes still sharp and alert, but there’s a new respect in her gaze as she looks at you.

As the group gathers closer to the Matriarch, you can see the awe in their faces, the reverence in their movements. This experience is one they will carry with them, a memory etched into their minds as they step further into their roles within House Baenre.

And as you stand there, surrounded by the luminous beauty of the cove, you can’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The Matriarch, the wonder in the girls’ eyes, and even Minthara’s begrudging respect—all of it reaffirms your place, your power, in this world beneath the surface.

You reach out, your hand gentle as it strokes the crystalline surface of the Spider Matriarch’s body. Her hard, gem-like exterior glimmers under your touch, refracting the light in dazzling patterns across the cave walls. At first, she remains still, her many eyes observing you intently. Then, to the amazement of everyone present, the Matriarch begins to nuzzle into your hand, her massive form shifting closer, almost like an old friend seeking comfort. The connection between you and the ancient creature is palpable, a silent understanding that needs no words.

The girls are utterly captivated by the sight, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief. You can feel their eyes on you, watching every movement as if this were some sacred ritual they had been granted the rarest of privileges to witness. The youngest of the group, hesitant and unsure, clings to the edge of your cloak, her small fingers gripping the fabric tightly. You turn to her with a warm, reassuring smile.

“It’s alright,” you whisper softly, your voice soothing. “She won’t harm you.”

The girl looks up at you, her wide eyes filled with uncertainty, but she nods. Encouraged by your words, she takes a tentative step forward. One by one, you introduce the girls to the Matriarch, guiding their hands as they reach out to touch the massive creature. Some of the older girls are more confident, their hands steady as they make contact with the Matriarch’s gleaming form, while the younger ones are more apprehensive, inching closer only after your gentle reassurances.

“See?” you say, your tone light and encouraging. “She’s as gentle as she is powerful.”

The Matriarch remains still, her calm demeanor helping to ease the girls' nerves. Gradually, they relax, their initial fear giving way to wonder as they realize just how special this moment is. The younger ones, still slightly wary, nevertheless follow your lead, stepping closer to the Matriarch and letting their small hands glide over her gleaming surface.

You then look over at Minthara, who has been quietly observing the interaction. Her usual stern expression has softened, and there’s a faint smile playing on her lips—a rare sight indeed. You can see something playing on her mind as she looks at you and the girls, but you simply cannot place it. You beckon her to join you, a silent invitation that she accepts after a moment’s hesitation.

Minthara approaches the Matriarch with measured steps, her hand extending to touch the creature’s side. The Matriarch doesn’t react with the same familiarity she showed you, but she allows Minthara’s touch, her massive eyes meeting Minthara’s in what seems like an acknowledgment of respect.

One of the older girls, emboldened by the experience, remarks with a grin, “I think this is the first time I’ve seen the Matron smile when someone didn’t get hurt.”

A ripple of laughter runs through the group, lightening the mood even further. Minthara’s smile deepens just a fraction, and though she doesn’t respond, there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes.

As the girls begin to explore the cove, playing with the spiderlings that scuttle around them, you and Minthara find a quiet spot to sit together, watching the scene unfold. The atmosphere is peaceful, almost serene, the cove’s natural beauty providing a rare respite from the harshness of the Underdark.

Minthara glances at you, curiosity evident in her gaze. “How did you come to know of this place?” she asks, her voice quieter than usual. “Of these creatures?”

You lean back slightly, your eyes tracing the delicate patterns of bioluminescent fungi on the cave walls as you consider your response.

“My mother,” you begin, your voice steady but laced with old, buried emotions, “used to abandon me in the wilderness when my powers became too much for her to handle. She called it a test, a way to teach me control, but it was more about survival. Either I would learn to control my magic or I would die out there, alone.”

You pause, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you recall those early days, looking back on the horror like a funny joke. Minthara’s eyes darken, however, her expression hardening at the thought. But she remains silent, waiting for you to continue.

“It was during one of those times,” you say, your gaze drifting to the Matriarch, “when I was left to fend for myself that I found this place. Or maybe it found me. I was dehydrated, half-mad with exhaustion, my magic out of control. I remember stumbling through the dark, barely able to see straight, when I came across this cove. It felt like a dream, or maybe a hallucination brought on by desperation.”

“When my magic finally calmed down, when I was no longer on the brink of death, I made my way back to the house,” you continue. “But the cycle would repeat. Every time I lost control, every time my power threatened to consume me, I’d end up back here. The Matriarch became my sanctuary, a place where I could regain control, where I could be myself without fear.”

Minthara is silent for a moment, processing what you’ve told her. Her gaze shifts to the Matriarch, who remains still and watchful, her crystalline eyes reflecting the glow of the fungi.

“Your mother was a coward, it is an honour to have slain her, one albeit I wish I reserved for you,” Minthara finally says, her voice low but firm.

If she was more thoughtful of her words she would have realised that perhaps bringing up the fact that she murdered your mother, may 'ruin the moment', but she didn't care, and it seemed neither did you. (Somewhere, Kyorlin was seething for no particular reason).

Minthara continued, “She couldn’t face your power, so she left you to fend for yourself. But I’m glad she did. If she hadn’t, you might never have found this place.. And you might never have found your way to me.”

Her affection effects you more than you were prepared for and you feel a light blush grace your cheeks as Minthara reaches to hold your hand. are a mixture of truth and a comfort you hadn’t expected. You feel a strange sense of relief, as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Despite everything, despite the pain and the harshness of your upbringing, the hand life had dealt you, something good had come from it.

You smile, a genuine warmth filling your chest. “You’re right,” you say softly. “I did find my way to you.”

Minthara’s expression softens even more, a rare and precious sight. “And for that, I am grateful,” she murmurs, her thumb carressing the top of your hand.

The connection between you two feels stronger, real. Your eyes are mesmerised by hers and before you realise what you are doing, you lean forward and press your forehead against hers. You can see Minthara panic slightly, unused to such genuine tenderness towards herself, something that was innocent - not a product of lust. You softly kiss her lips, and Minthara's eyes flutter shut, basking in the warmth of your touch. This kiss is chaste, tender, and when you pull away you rest your forehead once more on hers. Words settle on your tongue, screaming to be said, the three little words you knew would change everything once spoken, that dared to escape you this very morning. Your breath hitches in anticipation as you go to start your confession.

"Minthara, I-"

"-Mistress, Matron, look what we found!" A small group of the younger girls approach you, the youngest clasping something in her hands. You smile and move away from Minthara, your attention soley on the girls, not on the maelstrom of emotions that were pounding in your heart. You didn't look back to Minthara, but if you had, you would see her continuing to stare at you wistfully, as if pretending to hear what she was hoping you were going to say.

"What is it ladies?" You ask, your cheeks still a faint red and you smiled bashfully at them. The youngest shows you her open palms and nestled in them is a red crystal with black streaks running through it, and it is vital to note, that it is shaped as a heart.

"We uh, we uh thought you and the matron might like this, because it is our house colors." The young girl told you, her eye flicking nervously to Minthara, as if she expected her to suddenly smack it out of her hand, and scold her for such juvenile thoughts.

"This is beautiful and a perceptive find. Thank you." Minthara said to them, softly taking it out of the girls hand and putting it up to the light and admiring it as it shined. "We will cherish it, won't we wife?"

"We will, thank you ladies." You smile and nod to them, the girls are overhwelmed with surprise and they bow their heads before scampering off, as if not to test their luck. Before you can turn to Minthara and ask her if perhaps she hit her head on the way down here, or if she accidentally inhaled some sort of rogue fungus, Minthara speaks first.

“It was good of you to bring the girls here, but I must ask why?” she asks, running the crystal through her hands, nodding toward the young drow who were now completely re-absorbed in their exploration.

"They needed to see this," you say softly, your voice carrying the weight of your intentions. "To understand that there’s more to power than just strength and fear. There’s beauty in it too, a kind of grace. I wanted them to see that, to feel it, to know it."

Minthara is silent, her gaze turning inward as she contemplates your words. The harsh lines of her face soften as she looks back at the girls, watching them with an unreadable expression.

“You’ve given them a gift today,” she murmurs, almost as if she’s speaking to herself.

A genuine warmth spreads through you as you smile at her, the gesture unguarded. “We’ve given them a gift, Minthara. You agreed to come, after all. I doubt they would have been half as excited if you weren’t here.”

She lets out a huff, a sound meant to mask the warmth your words bring her. “Only because you called me a scaredy-cat,” she mutters, though the faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth betrays her.

You laugh softly, the sound mingling with the distant echoes of the girls’ laughter. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

Minthara rolls her eyes, but there’s no real irritation there. Instead, she hands you the heart-shaped crystal the young girls had presented to the both of you. "So, tell me, Princess of Spiders, what type of crystal is this?"

You chuckle at the playful endearment and take the crystal from her, turning it over in your hand as if appraising it. "As the most regal Princess of the Spiders, I can assure you, this is no ordinary crystal."

Minthara lets out a breathless laugh, her smirk widening. "Oh, don’t tell me it’s imbued with some mystical power. Is it filled with the power of love?"

You hold her gaze, your expression completely serious. "Oh no, dearest, this is most definitely a crystallized human ear."

Minthara pauses, her smirk faltering as she searches your face for any hint of a joke. When she realizes you’re not jesting, her eyes widen slightly before she snatches the crystal back from you, inspecting it with ruthless scrutiny. You can’t help but chuckle at her reaction.

"When these creatures are done with their prey, they crystallize the remains," you explain, your tone matter-of-fact. "Think of it as their method of preserving rations."

Minthara’s gaze sweeps over the cavern, taking in the glittering crystals that adorn the walls. "So you’re telling me that this cove—covered in what I assumed were beautiful crystals—is actually adorned with corpses and carcasses?"

"Yep," you confirm with a casual shrug.

She shakes her head, a wry grin spreading across her face. "This outing could not get any better."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The bioluminescent glow of the fungi intensifies, casting a mesmerizing light throughout the cove. The girls, who had been laughing and playing with the spiderlings, are now starting to show signs of exhaustion. You know it’s time to leave, to return to the more controlled chaos of House Baenre, but you’re reluctant to break the spell of this serene place.

You start gathering the girls, calling them to attention with a gentle but firm voice. They gather around you, still chattering excitedly about the day’s adventure, the Matriarch, and the spiderlings they’ve befriended. As you prepare to lead them back out of the cove, a sudden movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention.

A group of larger crystalline spiders, adults by the size of them, scuttle into the cove from a darkened tunnel. At first, it’s easy to dismiss their presence—they’re simply returning to their home—but then you see what they’re dragging behind them. It’s a creature, half-alive, its body twisted and broken, eyes wide with terror. The spiders are efficient in their brutality, their fangs piercing flesh with practiced ease, venom paralyzing their prey even as they wrap it in silken threads.

The scene is vicious and savage, the spiders working with a kind of natural precision that is both horrifying and, in a way, beautiful. The cycle of life and death, survival and dominance, all playing out before your eyes. The girls, who had been so carefree moments before, fall silent as they notice what’s happening. Their wide eyes are glued to the scene, shock and fear rippling through the group. You see this as a teachable moment, one that they won’t soon forget.

“This,” you say, your voice carrying the weight of the lesson you’re about to impart, “is what happens if you do not show respect to these creatures. They may seem playful, even gentle at times, but they are still predators, deadly and merciless.”

The girls exchange nervous glances, the realization dawning on them that the same spiderlings they had been playing with not long ago will one day grow into the very creatures before them. The spiders continue their work, oblivious to the audience they’ve garnered, their focus solely on their prey.

The youngest among the girls, who had been clinging to your side most of the day, looks up at you with wide, scared eyes.

“They were so nice to us,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. “But they could have...”

You nod, acknowledging her unspoken fear. “They could have,” you confirm, your tone gentle but firm. “But you showed them respect, and they returned it. That’s how you survive in the Underdark. Respect, understanding, and knowing when to fight and when to retreat.”

Minthara, who has been silently watching the scene unfold, steps forward, her presence commanding and reassuring.

“Remember what you’ve seen today,” she adds, her voice steady. “This is the world we live in. Strength and respect are what keep us alive. Never forget that.”

The girls nod, absorbing the gravity of her words. They’ve seen brutality before—life in the Underdark ensures that—but this is different. This is a reminder that even in a place of beauty, danger is never far away. It’s a lesson that will stay with them, shaping their understanding of the world they inhabit.

You give the signal, and the group begins to move, following you and Minthara back toward the entrance of the cove. The mood is more somber now, the earlier excitement tempered by what they’ve witnessed. The spiderlings, now forgotten, retreat into the shadows as the girls file out, their small, bright red eyes watching from the darkness.

As you help the last of the girls out of the crevice, you cast one final glance back at the cove. The Matriarch watches you, her massive eyes reflecting the light of the fungi. There’s a sense of finality to the moment, as if the cove itself is bidding you farewell, a silent promise that it will be here when you need it again.

Minthara is the last to leave, and as she emerges from the crevice, she pauses beside you, her gaze lingering on the entrance to the cove.

“You’ve taught them more today than they’ll learn in a hundred lessons back at the house,” she murmurs, her voice carrying a note of admiration.

“I hope so,” you reply with a smile. “They need to understand the world they’re growing up in. The dangers, the beauty, and the balance between the two.”

The journey back to House Baenre begins as the group mounts their spiders, the creatures responding to their riders with a mixture of familiarity and respect. You move to the front, confidently claiming your place in front of Minthara on her mount. The large arachnid shifts beneath you, its many legs moving in a fluid rhythm as you take hold of the reins. For a moment, Minthara hesitates, watching you with those sharp, discerning eyes, but she doesn’t object. Instead, she leans forward into your back, her presence a warm, reassuring weight as you guide the spider forward.

The ride home is quieter than the journey to the cove. The girls, though still chatting amongst themselves, are noticeably subdued, their minds clearly occupied by the lessons learned and the sights witnessed.

As you approach the gates of House Baenre, the familiar spires rising ominously against the cavern’s ceiling, the girls’ spirits lift slightly. They’re exhausted but content, their excitement tempered by the day’s events. You dismount first, helping the youngest of the girls down from her spider before turning to Minthara.

"Are you going to join us for dinner?" you ask, the hope in your voice betraying your desire for just a bit more time together before the responsibilities of your respective roles claim you.

Minthara smiles softly, but there’s a note of regret in her expression as she shakes her head. "I’d like to, but there’s work that demands my attention today."

You nod in understanding, though disappointment tugs at your heart. "I’ll see you later then," you reply, letting her go without further insistence. She watches you for a moment longer before turning towards her study, her steps purposeful and brisk.

The evening passes quietly as you join the girls for dinner. Their energy has returned somewhat, and the meal is filled with chatter about the day’s adventure. You smile, encouraging their enthusiasm, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Minthara. When the meal ends and the girls are finally sent to their beds, you retreat to your chamber, expecting Minthara to join you soon.

But as the hours stretch on, and she still hasn’t come to bed, a knot of worry forms in your chest. Something doesn’t feel right. You slip out of bed, your feet barely making a sound as you move through the darkened halls of House Baenre. The path to Minthara’s study is familiar, but tonight, it feels longer, the silence more oppressive.

When you reach the door to her study, you hesitate, a sense of foreboding washing over you. Slowly, you push the door open, and the sight that greets you makes your blood run cold.

Minthara is slumped against her desk, her breathing labored as she struggles to pull a dagger from her abdomen. Her fingers, slick with blood, slip against the hilt, and a pained grimace mars her usually composed features. On the floor beside her, a dead brutalized Seldarine assassin lies motionless, a testament to the viscious fight that had just taken place. Minthara's eyes light up when she sees you, and as if she now knows she is in your hands, she collapses in a heap, her own spilt blood bathing her.

You thought you had felt fear before.

But not like this.

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mwhahahahahahahahahhahahaha

did you really think it would all be sunshine and roses? In this series?!?

I think we can officially ascertain that we are now in the lovers era. I am so SO excited for the direction I am taking this series and I think you guys will love it too!

I think this is the fluffiest chapter I have written for this series (I'm writing this and just remembering the brutal murders I wrote at the beginning - whoops!)

Anyway, let me know what you guys think, i love and cherish every like and comment. Love you all !

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

^As a note; I want to again thank every person who has bought me a coffee, I am in my struggle era rn with unemployment and being completely independent. I also want to thank every single person who has left a nice comment either on a post or in my inbox, all of you are truly the reason this blog keeps running and I stay sane. So thank you.^

taglist:

@mimetoist @h-doodles @mimetoist @thepotatoislost @needyformilfs @longjohnsilverfish @spacezombiez @les-bee @gaysindistress @morganaspet @wineredsea @coratheninth @i-must-say-thats-quite-gay @trappedinafantasy37 @alicelufenia

[moonselune]

By the Silk that Binds Us (pt.5 NSFW)

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Matron!Minthara x Forced!Betrothed!reader

NSFW | MDNI

An arranged marriage, enemies to lovers fic: part one part two part three part four part six

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As the festivities continued, you could feel the subtle, intoxicating effects of the Menzoberranzan love magic beginning to take hold. The laughter and applause of the guests seemed to amplify the enchantment, wrapping you in a cocoon of euphoria and heightened emotion. You were surrounded by the opulence and sheer power of Minthara, her presence radiating authority and respect. The realization that you were now part of this world, bound to her, began to settle in, and it was impossible to ignore the growing sense of satisfaction.

Minthara’s aura was captivating, a force of nature that drew you in. You felt a growing sense of contentment and pleasure in being by her side, a stark contrast to the resentment you had intended to harbor. The love magic was working its way into your thoughts, making you appreciate the strength and allure of the woman you had married. You had been meant to hate her, to use this union as a means of ruin, but amidst the revelry and the enchantment, you found yourself wanting to indulge in the moment.

The crowd’s admiration for you was palpable, but it seemed to intensify Minthara’s possessiveness. You noticed how her gaze grew sharper when others approached you, how her body language became increasingly protective. It was both surprising and oddly gratifying. She seemed unable to tolerate the attention you were receiving from well-wishers, her frustration bubbling beneath her composed exterior.

At one point, as you were surrounded by a particularly enthusiastic group of guests complimenting you on your beauty and grace, Minthara made her move. With a sudden but graceful maneuver, she swept you out of the crowd, her arm wrapping securely around your waist. Her hand pressed just above your abdomen, her fingers warm and possessive against your skin.

“Excuse me,” Minthara said in a voice laced with barely concealed irritation, directing a pointed glance at the people around you. “I need to have a moment with my wife.”

Her words, though commanding, were accompanied by an unexpected tenderness. As she pulled you closer, her body pressed against yours, you could feel the intensity of her emotions. There was a raw, almost primal possessiveness in her touch that was both thrilling and unsettling. You could sense that she was struggling with the same magical influence that you were, her emotions heightened and her desire for you growing stronger by the minute.

The magic seemed to blur the lines between reality and desire, making every touch, every whisper, and every glance from Minthara feel amplified and all-encompassing. You tried to remind yourself of your original intent—to hate her, to make this union a burden—but the enchantment made those thoughts seem distant, almost irrelevant.

You looked up at her, catching the intensity in her eyes, and for the first time, you could see the depth of her feelings laid bare. The kiss from earlier had ignited a spark between you, and now, with the love magic at play, that spark was becoming a flame.

As the crowd continued their festivities around you, the space you occupied with Minthara felt like a private, intimate world. The music and laughter of the banquet hall faded into the background, leaving you both in a bubble of emotional intensity.

Minthara’s grip tightened slightly, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Are you enjoying the attention, my love?”

The possessiveness in her voice was undeniable, but so was the genuine affection she felt. You nodded, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, and allowed yourself to indulge in the feelings the magic had stirred.

You looked up at Minthara, trying to balance the heightened emotions stirred by the enchantment with the reality of the situation. Her possessive grip on your waist was both comforting and intense, her body radiating warmth against yours.

“Perhaps,” you admitted with a soft, seductive smile, “I am enjoying the attention.”

Minthara's pout deepened, her eyes narrowing playfully as she leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear. “It’s such a shame, then,” she murmured, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, “that I’m going to have to cut that short.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden shift in demeanor. “Why’s that?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the thrill her words elicited. Minthara’s smirk was almost predatory as she looked down at you.

“Because,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper that only you could hear, “I want all your attention for myself.”

The possessiveness in her tone was unmistakable, and you could see the determination in her eyes. You tried to reason with her, though you were well aware that the love magic was amplifying your emotions and making her possessiveness feel almost endearing.

“But we can’t just leave our own wedding reception,” you pointed out, your voice a mix of amusement and frustration. “There are guests, there are formalities...”

Minthara cut you off with a firm yet affectionate squeeze of your waist. “We’re Matron and Mistress of the most powerful house in the Underdark,” she said, her voice filled with unwavering confidence. “We can do whatever we want. Besides, you’re my wife now. The celebration can wait.”

Her words, though assertive, were tinged with a possessive tenderness that made you shiver. You could feel the pull of her desire, the enchantment working its magic to make her emotions even more intense.

She leaned in closer, her breath hot against your neck as she whispered, “Let’s make the most of this night. We have all the power in Menzoberranzan, and right now, I want you all to myself.”

The weight of her words settled heavily upon you, mingling with the effects of the love magic. The idea of escaping the crowd and focusing solely on each other felt both thrilling and indulgent. Despite the chaos of the reception, Minthara’s intense gaze and the way she held you close made it clear that she was determined to have you all to herself.

With a sigh of surrender, you looked around the banquet hall. The guests were absorbed in their conversations, the music playing in the background, and the merriment of the night was in full swing. It was easy to see why Minthara felt she could take control of the situation. As Matron and Mistress, you were indeed in a position to dictate the course of their own night.

As Minthara guided you through the labyrinthine corridors of the manor, her grip on your waist was firm and unyielding. Her touch was both possessive and electrifying, every step she took radiating with the intensity of her desire. The corridors seemed to blur past, the sounds of the banquet fading into the background as you were drawn further into the private sanctuary of your quarters.

Once inside, Minthara wasted no time. The door was closed with a decisive thud, and she turned to face you with a mixture of hunger and urgency. The air between you crackled with the residual magic of the evening, amplifying every sensation and emotion. Her lips crashed onto yours, her kiss fierce and demanding. You responded in kind, your hands gripping her shoulders as you were pulled into the passionate embrace.

In the midst of your heated kisses, Minthara pulled away just enough to murmur, “I didn’t ask you what happened with the acolyte.” Her voice was a husky whisper, her breath mingling with yours.

You paused for a moment, catching your breath as you gazed into her eyes. “She tried to poison you,” you managed to say, your voice laced with both satisfaction and urgency. “But I dealt with it. She’s been… taken care of.”

Minthara’s eyes darkened with a mixture of arousal and satisfaction. The knowledge that you had dealt with the threat seemed to heighten her desire even further. She captured your lips in another searing kiss, her hands moving with a sense of purpose as she guided you towards the bed.

With a swift motion, she pushed you down onto the bed, her body following closely as she pinned you beneath her. The intensity of her gaze was matched by the firmness of her hold, and you could feel her heated breath against your skin.

“I want details,” she murmured, her lips brushing your ear. “But that will have to wait until morning.”

The urgency of the moment made the complexity of your ceremonial attire a frustrating obstacle. As you both tried to strip each other, the intricate layers and fastenings of your clothing proved difficult to navigate. Each attempt only seemed to result in more entangled fabric and increasing frustration.

You both started to strip each other of your ceremonial garments, the complex layers of fabric proving more challenging than anticipated. Frustration mounted as you struggled with the elaborate designs, each piece of clothing more intricate than the last.

With a determined smile, you reached for a more practical solution. Summoning your divine silk, you wove it into a series of precise, shimmering cuts through the elaborate layers of your wedding attire. The silk sliced through the fabric with divine ease, and in a matter of moments, your garments fell away in a flurry of silken threads. Minthara's ceremonial wear got the same treatment and as you finished, Minthara looked at you in awe.

“Impressive,” she breathed, her voice filled with admiration. Without hesitation, she moved back on top of you, her body pressing against yours with a renewed fervor as you fell back into the plush covers. She turned your head to the side as she straddled you at the waist, admiring your neck, specifically the House Baenre mark. “Such pleasure it gives me, to have you beneath me, the one that escaped, now bearing my house mark, now my wife.”

Before you could respond to her, Minthara leant down and caught your lips in hers aggressively. Breasts rubbing against each other, you moved a hand down her side as she bit down on your bottom lip.

You dipped your hand between her thighs and were delighted to feel that she was just as turned on as you were. You began to rock her hips against yours creating a pleasurable friction between each of you aching cunts. Minthara gasped into your mouth and pulled away only to latch onto your neck.

You couldn’t help but cry out as she kissed and nibbled your neck, increasing the pace as she grinded against you. Her kisses were accompanied by a slow, deliberate grind of her hips against yours, a rhythm that ignited every nerve ending. The heat of her body, the soft friction of her movements, and the unrestrained passion in her eyes made it clear that she was fully immersed in the moment.

With a fluid motion, she began to move her hips in a rhythmic, sensual dance, the friction between your bodies becoming a source of intense pleasure. The contact was both exhilarating and intimate, each movement bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Her hands roamed over your skin, her touch leaving a trail of heated sensation.

"Mmm, yes- ah" You responded in kind, your hands gripping her hips as you matched the rhythm of her movements. You couldn't help but gasp as the shared pleasure intensified. The intensity of the moment was palpable, each touch and movement a testament to the passion that had ignited between you.

"I-ah-I am close, wife." There was such an intensity that Minthara addressed you that you couldn't help but arch your hips, the pleasure increasing tenfold. You were her wife, the most powerful woman in menzoberranzen was calling you wife, the power trip brought you closer to the edge.

Minthara was true to her word, and as you both neared climax you couldn't help but grunt each other's names into the other's mouth as you stole each other's oxygen greedily. Minthara bit down on your lip as she came, causing you to gasp and to your surprise you also came - funny, you never had taken yourself as a bit of a masochist but here you were, writhing in pleasure beneath the woman who murdered your family as your blood trickled down your jaw.

Lolth forgive you.

Determined not to be outdone, you took advantage of Minthara’s brief recovery and shifted your position with purposeful grace. Straddling her now, you felt a renewed sense of control and intimacy. Your lips eagerly found their way to her neck, and you began to trace a path of fiery kisses and gentle nibbles along her sensitive skin. Minthara’s breath came in soft, shuddering gasps as you made your mark on her.

“Eager to make your mark, I see,” she purred, her voice a breathy whisper of delight. She held your head against her neck, her fingers tangled in your hair as she guided you to the most sensitive spots.

Each touch of your lips, each caress of your tongue, elicited delicious shudders from Minthara. You could feel her pulse quickening beneath your lips, her body responding eagerly to your attentions. When you hit a particularly sensitive spot, Minthara gasped sharply, her body arching slightly in response. You couldn’t help but grin at the effect you were having on her.

The passion between you two intensified with each passing moment. You continued to kiss and bite her neck with an increasing rhythm, the pleasure you were both experiencing melding into a shared, fervent rhythm. Minthara’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, urging you to continue.

Your movements became more fluid and urgent, the desire between you two igniting with an almost primal intensity. You explored each other with fervor, your hands and lips mapping out every curve and contour of Minthara’s body. The connection between you grew deeper, each touch and kiss a testament to the powerful, consuming passion that had taken hold of you both.

As the night wore on, the two of you became a tangled, passionate mess of limbs and pleasure. The room was filled with the sounds of your intimate interactions—soft moans, gasps, and the rhythmic creaking of the bed.

Exhaustion and satisfaction gradually began to replace the intense fervor. You and Minthara’s movements slowed, the rhythm of your lovemaking transitioning from urgent and desperate to slow and tender. You took your time, savoring every caress and kiss as you both began to drift into a more relaxed, intimate connection.

Eventually, the intensity of the night gave way to a more gentle, romantic exchange. The passion was still present, but it was now wrapped in a softer, more affectionate embrace. You and Minthara held each other close, your bodies intertwined beneath the tangled sheets. The warmth of her skin against yours, the steady beat of her heart, and the soothing rhythm of your shared breaths created a cocoon of comfort and intimacy.

In the quiet of the early morning, the two of you drifted into a peaceful trance, still wrapped in each other’s arms. The last remnants of the night’s passion faded into a deep, contented sleep. Minthara’s head rested gently against your shoulder, her breathing steady and calm. You held her close, feeling a profound sense of contentment and closeness.

However, the peaceful atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Before either of you could fully awaken, the door swung open, and the High Priestess strode into the room with a mixture of authority and amusement. Her eyes quickly took in the scene—the two of you tangled together, the disheveled sheets, and the lingering evidence of the night’s activities.

The High Priestess’s gaze flicked between you and Minthara with a wry smile. “It seems you two have had quite the night,” she remarked, her voice laced with both amusement and a hint of disapproval. “I trust the consummation of your union was satisfactory?”

Startled, you and Minthara both stirred awake, trying to regain your composure. Minthara’s cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation, though she quickly masked it with a defiant expression. You, still partially tangled in the sheets, tried to sit up, your mind racing to process the unexpected intrusion.

“Well, it appears you’ve met the ceremonial requirements,” the High Priestess declared, her tone formal but with an undertone of mirth. Her gaze lingered on the love marks and the tangle of limbs before her, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

Minthara, brushing stray locks of hair from her face, managed a snarky remark. “And when exactly, will this love magic, wear off?.”

The High Priestess’s laughter erupted suddenly, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room. You and Minthara exchanged bewildered glances, trying to decipher the reason for her amusement. In the midst of her laughter, the High Priestess managed to reveal a startling truth.

“Oh, you poor fools,” she said between chuckles. “There was no love magic in the toast. The toast was all part of the ceremony, but the effects were entirely of your own making. I simply wanted to... usher things along.”

Her satisfied laughter continued as she turned and left the room, leaving you both in stunned silence. The implications of her words began to sink in, the realization that everything you had experienced was the result of your own emotions and desires rather than any external enchantment.

Minthara’s eyes met yours, a mixture of shock and confusion etched across her face. “So, we…" Minthara stopped to clear her throat. "We weren’t under any magic?”

You shook your head, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and resignation as you pulled the sheets closer to you, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable. “It appears so.”

A brief silence fell between you two, filled only with the sound of your deep breaths and the lingering aftereffects of the night. The reality of your situation, and the irony of it all, began to settle in.

“You know,” Minthara said with a soft chuckle, “maybe it’s just stress relief. We’ve both been through so much, and maybe… maybe it’s just easier to put it down to that.”

You nodded in agreement, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yes, I think that might be the simplest explanation. It was a lot of stress and emotion finally finding release.”

“You know,” she said, her voice low and seductive, “if it’s truly just about stress relief, perhaps we could... go another round? Just to ensure that all that stress is thoroughly relieved.”

The question was delivered with a playful smirk, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The way she looked at you, the lingering passion from the night before evident in her gaze, made it clear that she was both serious and teasing.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling the faintest blush creep up your cheeks despite the earlier events. You should say no, really you should but, you’d both been through so much, and it was clear that you were still caught up in the aftereffects of the celebration - making it much easier to just write it off as that. You hesitated for a moment, then, with a chuckle, you decided to play along with her suggestion.

“Well,” you replied, your tone matching her playful mood, “if it’s truly for stress relief purposes... how could I possibly refuse?”

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Now perfectly absolved of any form of stress, you prepared for lunch with your younger twin brothers, Kyorlin and Lesaonar. After the whirlwind of the wedding night and the High Priestess's abrupt interruption, you welcomed the prospect of a more relaxed engagement with family. The intricate details of the ceremony were behind you, and now you could focus on reconnecting with your siblings.

As you approached the smaller dining hall, saved for more private affairs and heard the sound of raised voices. The voices grew clearer as you neared, revealing the familiar bickering of your twin brothers.

Kyorlin was evidently agitated, gesticulating with an exaggerated sense of frustration. His sharp eyes were fixed on Lesaonar, who was attempting to avoid his twin’s intense gaze with a mixture of defiance and discomfort.

“I’m telling you, Lesaonar, I'm not stupid, I know it’s not normal to just disappear like that and then show up with—” Kyorlin’s voice cut off as he spotted you walking in. He straightened up, his expression shifting to a mixture of surprise and relief. “Ah, there you are.”

Lesaonar, standing near the long dining table with a sheepish smile, offered a hasty wave. His neck, visible beneath the collar of his tunic, was adorned with several prominent love marks—clear evidence of a night spent in fervent company.

“Lesaonar won't tell me who he was with last night,” Kyorlin continued, his tone now a mix of curiosity and frustration. “And now he’s showing up with these marks and won’t divulge a thing. I thought you might have some insight.”

You winced slightly at the implication. The thought of who Lesaonar might have spent the night with, especially after the night you had experienced yourself, was not one you were keen on pursuing. You offered a reassuring smile to your brother.

“Trust me, Kyorlin,” you said with a light laugh, “I’m as in the dark about Lesaonar’s nocturnal activities as you are. Some things are best left to the imagination or rather.. not.”

Lesaonar’s eyes softened with gratitude as he caught your gaze. “Thank you for siding with me,” he said, his voice a mix of relief and playful mischief. “I knew I could count on you.”

Kyorlin raised an eyebrow, clearly still frustrated but willing to move on for the moment. “Fine. Dearest sister, at least tell me how things are going with your new role.”

"Kyorlin are you lonely?" Lesaonar asks him, a mischevious smile on his face. "Is that why you keep asking about late night-"

"I could not have been referring more to how our sister feels as Mistress of the house, not about her wedding night, please, for the love of Lolth, do not tell me about your wedding night." Kyorlin stressed sending an irritated look to his twin.

You smiled at the two of them, at least some things would never change.

“Ah yes, I am officially the Mistress of House Baenre,” you said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Minthara has already laid out a detailed itinerary for me this afternoon. There’s a lot to take in, and it seems the responsibilities come with their own set of demands. Nothing I cannot handle though dearest brothers."

The three of you fell into a joyeous and relaxed conversation, a needed relief from the intensity of the past few days. However, the lively banter between your brothers was interrupted as a servant approached, bowing respectfully. The servant’s attire was pristine and formal, indicative of the house’s standards.

“Excuse me, Mistress,” the servant said with a polite but firm tone. “Matron Minthara requests your presence immediately.”

You frowned slightly. “But I’m not expected for another hour. Couldn’t it wait until then?”

The servant’s expression remained unwavering. “If Matron Minthara desires to see you now, it is imperative that you attend her. It matters not what the schedule dictates.”

You exchanged a quick look with Kyorlin and Lesaonar, who both raised eyebrows in silent curiosity. With a resigned sigh, you stood up from your seat.

“Well, it seems I must attend to the Matron’s wishes,” you said, attempting to sound composed despite the unexpected summons. “I will be back shortly - hopefully.”

The servant led you through the opulent corridors of House Baenre, the grand architecture and intricate decorations a constant reminder of the house’s power and prestige. As you walked, your mind raced with thoughts about Minthara’s sudden urgency. The atmosphere in the manor felt charged with authority, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that Minthara was asserting her control in a rather dramatic fashion.

When you finally reached Minthara’s private study, you were greeted by her standing confidently at the center of the room, her expression a mix of amusement and mock severity. Her regal posture and the way her eyes glinted suggested she was fully aware of the power she wielded over you.

“Well, if it isn’t the Mistress of House Baenre herself,” Minthara said with a smirk, her tone both playful and commanding. “I couldn’t possibly wait another moment to see how you were adjusting to your new role.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm. Despite the irritation you felt, you refused to let Minthara’s antics provoke a reaction. Instead, you decided to respond with a touch of humor.

“It’s sweet of you to miss me already,” you said with a teasing smile. “I didn’t realize you’d grow so impatient in such a short time.”

Minthara’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Oh, it’s not impatience, dear. I simply wanted to remind you that, even as Mistress, you still answer to someone, to me.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against a nearby table, your smile remaining in place. “Well, it’s good to know you’re keeping an eye on me. I suppose I should be flattered.”

Minthara’s demeanor softened slightly, and she took a step closer to you. “It’s just a little reminder of who holds the reins around here,” she said, her tone becoming more affectionate. “I’ve no doubt you’ll handle everything with grace, but a little reminder never hurts.”

Minthara’s gaze softened, but there was a glint of mischief in her eyes as she began to outline your responsibilities. She walked over to a large, ornate desk where she had clearly been reviewing some documents. Picking up a scroll, she waved it in front of you with an exaggerated flourish.

“As Mistress of House Baenre,” Minthara began, her tone carrying a mix of authority and playful condescension, “you are now responsible for managing the staff. This includes overseeing the daily operations and ensuring that all duties are performed to our standards. You will also be in charge of the younger members of the house, guiding them and ensuring their behavior aligns with our expectations.”

"Oh those little darlings? They will be no worry to me I assure you," You smiled, reminiscing on your wedding morning despite it not being even a full day ago. "It's amazing what some interest and an ear to lend does to the most unruly of souls."

Minthara glared at you, she had already realised her plan to set her disordely younger relatives on you had backfired. They all seemed to adore you and looked up to you with reverance she could only receive from fear.

Minthara took a breath in and let your comments wash over her, deciding to move on to the most important matter. “And, of course, you must ensure that I am satisfied with your performance. My expectations are quite high, and I trust you will rise to the challenge.”

You scoffed lightly, not taking her overly serious demeanor too much to heart. “Well, I suppose someone has to make sure everything runs smoothly around here. And who better than me?”

Minthara’s smile widened, clearly thinking she had successfully asserted her dominance. “Indeed. I’m sure you’ll find the tasks quite fulfilling, if not demanding.”

Just as she seemed ready to revel in her perceived victory, you leaned forward with a confident grin. “Oh and by the way, I’ve already arranged for replacements for the assassins you… eliminated. Handpicked, I might add.”

Minthara’s expression shifted to one of surprise and mild annoyance. “What are you implying? I have already taken care of the replacements.”

You raised an eyebrow, your tone calm and unwavering. “Yes, but I took it upon myself to handle that particular duty. As you said it’s part of my role as Mistress, not yours. I wouldn’t want to burden you with the minutiae of every little detail. Especially considering your poor choice last time. I mean this is how we got into this predicament to begin with.”

Minthara scoffed and her brow furrowed slightly, and she opened her mouth to protest. “But—”

You interrupted with a gentle but firm voice. “It’s my responsibility now, dearest wife. I’m fully capable of managing these aspects of the house without adding unnecessary stress to your already demanding role.”

She hesitated for a moment, then sighed in reluctant acceptance. The assasins would be loyal to you of course and no doubt be more difficult for her to order around. Plus Minthara was sure they would eagerly come running back to you with every detail they could. A minor issue. “Very well. I suppose it’s only fair that you handle it as part of your duties.”

You offered her a reassuring smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having asserted your role effectively. “Thank you for understanding. I assure you, I’ll handle everything with the utmost attention and dedication.”

Minthara’s cocked her head at you, an irritated look in her eye. “I have no doubt you will. Just remember, I’m always here if you need guidance—or if you decide you want to test the limits of your new responsibilities.”

It was not advice, you noted, it was a warning - don't get too confident. As you prepared to leave her quarters, you could feel the weight of your new responsibilities settling over you. The dynamic between you and Minthara had already begun to shape itself, a blend of authority, affection, and mutual respect. With a final, confident smile, you turned and exited the room, ready to face the challenges of your new position with determination.

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The evening had settled into a calm, deceptive quiet as you prepared for dinner with Minthara that night. After the tension of the day, you hoped for a peaceful meal, a chance to enjoy a moment of calm in the whirlwind of your new responsibilities. You had almost convinced yourself that Minthara had forgotten about the acolyte matter, that perhaps she had been too preoccupied with flexing her authority over you that she had forgotten the whole matter completely.

As you entered the dining hall, Minthara was already seated, a serene yet calculating expression on her face. The table was set elegantly, with flickering candles casting a soft glow over the polished surface. You exchanged the usual pleasantries, the conversation flowing easily enough, but there was an undercurrent of tension that you couldn't quite shake.

Halfway through the meal, you heard the soft, ominous click of the door locking behind you. Your heart sank as you realized that Minthara had not forgotten. In fact, it seemed she had been waiting for the right moment to address the issue that had been lingering between you. Minthara leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you.

"You didn’t think I would forget, did you, darling?" she asked, her tone deceptively mild. "The matter of the acolyte?"

You took a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. "Minthara, the acolyte sought to kill you during the vow. I healed you when you were injured, and then I caught her in the chapel. Lolth herself turned her into a drider and dragged her into the depths of the Underdark. There’s nothing more to it."

Minthara’s gaze sharpened, her expression hardening with suspicion, you had hoped the comment about the drider would lead her astray that she woul dbe in awe of such an occurence that she would forget her true mission.

"That’s a convenient story. But you are not known to be a healer, at least not one with the talent to save someone from such an injury." Minthara bit out, raising from her chair and beginning to approach you. "And why would Lolth, the Spider Queen herself, intervene on your behalf? Why does she favor you? And it’s not just your family’s devotion."

The questions hung in the air, heavy with the weight of implications you had hoped to avoid. Minthara’s skepticism was palpable, her distrust evident in the way she leaned toward you, her eyes locked onto yours.

"I told you the truth," you insisted, but there was a tremor in your voice that you couldn’t quite suppress. "I did what I had to do to protect you, to protect our house. Lolth’s will is beyond our understanding. Accept it Minthara."

Minthara’s displeasure was evident, her lips curling into a cold smile. "It’s all too convenient, don’t you think? You expect me to believe that everything happened exactly as you said, without any further explanation? No, there’s more to this, and I intend to find out."

She stood, her movements deliberate and controlled, as if she were savoring the power she held over you. "Neither of us are leaving this room until you tell me the whole truth. And for every hour you withhold it, my guards will beat Kyorlin."

The mention of Kyorlin sent a surge of anger through you. You pushed your chair back and stood, your eyes flashing with fury. "You can’t do that! I won’t let you harm him."

"I have every right to discipline him after he attacked Arys in the library, or did your dearest brother not tell you about it? Such disorder among you." Minthara’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it, only a cold, calculating cruelty. "You will tell me what I want to know, or Kyorlin will suffer the consequences. It’s your choice."

Desperation clawed at you as you turned toward the door, intent on leaving. You would use your magic to break it down if you had to. But as you summoned your power, you felt an emptiness where your magic should have been. Panic began to rise as you realized that your abilities were gone, as if snuffed out by an invisible force.

Minthara’s laughter rang out, dark and triumphant. "Did you really think I wouldn’t take precautions? Your wine was spiked with essence of sussur. Your magic is gone, and it won’t return for at least a day. You’re powerless, wife."

The weight of her words crashed down on you, the reality of your situation sinking in. Minthara had planned this from the beginning, ensuring that you had no means of escape, no way to fight back. You were trapped, at her mercy, with no magic and no way to protect your brother.

Your breath came in shallow gasps as you faced her, the room closing in around you. Minthara took a step closer, her voice a whisper of silk and steel. "Now, tell me the truth, or Kyorlin will pay the price for your stubbornness."

The stakes had never been higher, and the path before you had never been more treacherous. Minthara had you cornered, and the only way out was to reveal the secret you had fought so hard to keep.

The room fell into a tense silence as Minthara’s threat hung in the air. Your heart raced, but you steeled yourself, determined not to show any fear. You refused to believe that she would harm Kyorlin—her authority only extended so far, and you knew your brother was capable of taking care of himself. This had to be a bluff, an attempt to break your resolve.

"You’re bluffing, Minthara," you said, your voice firm despite the flicker of doubt that gnawed at your confidence. "You won’t harm Kyorlin. He is your brother by marriage. It’s not in your best interest."

Minthara’s eyes narrowed, her expression hardening as she turned toward the door. Without a word, she opened it and motioned for someone to enter. The door creaked fully open, and two guards stepped inside, dragging a figure between them. Your heart lurched as you saw the familiar form of Kyorlin, his face bruised and bloodied, his expression a mixture of pain and defiance.

“No!” The word tore from your throat as you instinctively rushed toward him, desperate to reach your brother.

But Minthara was faster, her grip like iron as she seized your arm, holding you back with a strength you had no hope of beating. "And what exactly do you think you are doing, beloved?"

Kyorlin looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of apology and determination. He tried to speak, but the guards tightened their hold on him, pulling him violently back toward the door by his throat.

“Take him away,” Minthara ordered coldly, her gaze never leaving yours as the guards obeyed, dragging Kyorlin out of the room. You struggled against Minthara’s grip, your heart shattering as you watched your brother disappear through the door. The echo of the door slamming shut behind him felt like the final nail in the coffin.

Tears of frustration and helplessness welled in your eyes as you finally stopped struggling, your body going limp in Minthara’s grasp. She released you, allowing you to stumble back, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You felt the walls of your resolve crumbling, the weight of Minthara’s power pressing down on you until you could no longer bear it.

"Alright," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of despair and defiance. "You win, Minthara. I’ll tell you everything. But I warn you, the truth is something you won’t like."

Minthara’s expression remained unreadable, but you could see the glint of satisfaction in her eyes as she waited for you to continue. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself for the revelation that was about to change everything.

"Yes, Lolth favors me," you began, your voice growing stronger as you spoke. "She favors me not just because of my devotion, but because I am her descendant. My lineage comes from an aasimar named Liakyre."

Minthara’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "An aasimar?" she scoffed. "Lolth has no aasimar children. You expect me to believe this?"

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, a bitter, mirthless sound that echoed through the room. "No, you’re right. Lolth has no aasimar children. But Eilistraee does. Liakyre is the aasimar daughter of Eilistraee, the so-called 'benevolent' goddess, the traitor. But Liakyre saw through Eilistraee’s lies and fell back into Lolth’s embrace—her grandmother’s embrace."

Minthara’s eyes narrowed, her skepticism deepening as she tried to process the information. "You’re lying. This is absurd. Why would Lolth accept a descendant of Eilistraee, her sworn enemy?"

You met her gaze, your expression unwavering. "Think about it, Minthara. What better way to damn Eilistraee than to take her own daughter and make her Lolth's perfect paragon? What better way to mock the 'Dark Maiden' than to ensure that her legacy, her blood is tied forever to Lolth’s greatest house? Eilistraee's greatest loss, the most celebrated figure in the underdark."

Minthara’s lips pressed into a thin line, her mind racing as she considered your words. You could see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle to reconcile the truth with the deep-seated beliefs she had held all her life. But the evidence was undeniable, and as the realization dawned on her, you could see the anger and betrayal beginning to simmer beneath her composed exterior.

"And what of the contract that bound us together, Minthara?" you continued, pressing your advantage. "The miraculous contract that made me your wife. You think that was a coincidence? No, wife. That was Lolth’s will, ensuring that Liakyre’s bloodline would be firmly entrenched within House Baenre. This is her plan, this is her way."

Minthara’s silence stretched on, the air between you thick with tension. You watched as her expression shifted, the fury in her eyes fading, replaced by something far more unnerving—a slow, creeping smirk that sent a chill down your spine. It was a look of triumph, of satisfaction, as if the final piece of a puzzle had clicked into place in her mind.

She turned to you, her smirk widening as she stepped closer. The weight of her presence was suffocating, and despite your resolve, you couldn’t help but feel a growing unease. She reached out, taking your hand in hers with a surprising gentleness, lifting it to her lips. The touch of her lips against your skin was cold, calculated, and filled with a twisted kind of affection.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft yet dripping with mockery. “Thank you for finally telling the truth. You have no idea how much this means to me.” Her eyes gleamed with a sinister light as she released your hand, her smirk deepening into something almost feral.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode toward the door, her steps deliberate and unhurried. You stood frozen, a mix of shock and confusion swirling in your mind. This wasn’t the reaction you had expected. You had anticipated rage, perhaps even violence, but not… this.

Minthara paused at the doorway, glancing back at you with that same unnerving smirk. Then, with a final, almost casual wave of her hand, she exited the room, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest.

For a moment, you simply stood there, trying to process what had just happened. The oppressive atmosphere that had filled the room seemed to lift slightly, and you realized with a jolt that the door was no longer locked. You were free to leave.

Without wasting another moment, you rushed to the door, pushing it open and nearly stumbling into the corridor. The fear and anger that had built up inside you now fueled your steps as you raced through the halls of House Baenre, desperate to find Kyorlin.

You burst into the family quarters, your breath ragged from the sprint, and stopped short as you saw Kyorlin sitting at a table, chatting animatedly with Lesaonar. They both looked up as you entered, Kyorlin’s expression shifting from surprise to concern.

“Sister, what’s wrong?” Kyorlin asked, standing up from his seat. There wasn’t a single mark on him—no bruises, no signs of the beating Minthara had claimed. He was perfectly unharmed, his face alight with the carefree demeanor he always had around his twin.

“You’re… you’re okay,” you stammered, the relief flooding over you like a wave. It was all a lie. Minthara had deceived you. The 'Kyorlin' you had seen was all a ruse.

Kyorlin frowned, exchanging a puzzled glance with Lesaonar. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You sank into a nearby chair, your legs suddenly feeling weak. The realization of how thoroughly you’d been manipulated settled in, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Minthara had played you perfectly, using your love for your brother to break you down and extract the truth she wanted.

Kyorlin, noticing your distress, moved to your side, his hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder. “What happened? What did she do?”

You shook your head, struggling to gather your thoughts amidst the turmoil. “She… she tricked me. I thought you were in danger. I thought she was going to have you beaten until I told her the truth.”

Kyorlin’s eyes widened with shock, his expression shifting quickly to anger. “That iblith.”

You winced at his use of the derogatory term, though you understood his frustration. “Kyorlin, you cannot say that,” you said firmly, trying to keep the situation from escalating further. “We don’t need more reasons for her to come after us.”

The reminder of Minthara’s threat made you think of something she had mentioned. You turned to Kyorlin, your curiosity getting the better of you. “What happened between you and Arys, Minthara’s nephew? I heard about an incident in the library.”

Kyorlin’s face tensed, and he shifted uncomfortably. He had kept this matter close to his chest, and it showed in his nervousness.

“I—I didn’t want to worry you,” he stammered. “But… Lesaonar had too much to drink and started talking about family secrets. I… I attacked Arys because I didn’t want those secrets getting out. I did it to protect us.”

Lesaonar’s face twisted into a mix of annoyance and irritation. “You attacked Arys? And didn’t even bother to tell me? What’s the big idea?”

Kyorlin’s face reddened with both guilt and irritation. “Well, maybe if you didn’t get so drunk and start blabbing, we wouldn’t have had to deal with this.”

The conversation was quickly escalating into a full-blown argument. The tension in the room thickened, and you could see that neither brother was about to back down.

Before the argument could spiral further, you raised your hand, cutting through the noise. “Enough. I need to get some rest before my head explodes from all this chaos.”

Both Kyorlin and Lesaonar fell silent, their faces reflecting a mixture of frustration and resignation. You excused yourself from the room, your mind racing with the day’s events. The thought of Minthara still waiting for you in your quarters only added to your stress.

You returned to your chambers, hoping against hope itself that Minthara would be out dealing with her sinister plans or something equally nefarious. But as you entered, you were greeted by the sight of Minthara lounging on the bed, her expression an unsettling blend of mock sympathy and amusement.

She looked up as you entered, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, look who’s finally here,” she said, her voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness. “Had a hard day, did we? Perhaps you’re in need of some stress relief?”

"I would rather feed myself to the spiders." You smiled tightly back to her. You didn't give her the satisfaction of bringing up Kyorlin, you knew she was relishing in the psychological warfare she had enacted.

You began to undress, your movements mechanically efficient. The tension of the day had left you drained, and the thought of a quiet night seemed like a distant hope. You quickly prepared for bed, shedding the day’s formal attire in favor of more comfortable garments.

As you slid between the cool, silk sheets, Minthara watched with an almost predatory gaze. Her eyes followed your every move, and you could feel her presence growing more pronounced as she approached the bed.

Without waiting for an invitation, Minthara smoothly slid into the bed beside you. Her touch was deliberate and firm as she pulled you into her embrace, her body a warm contrast to the cool sheets. You instinctively tensed, trying to create some distance between the two of you.

“No, no,” Minthara murmured, her voice soft but insistent. “You need to relax, my love.”

You squirmed slightly, trying to extricate yourself from her hold, but Minthara's arms were unyielding. She wrapped around you with a possessive tenderness, her warmth enveloping you despite your protests.

“Minthara," you said, your voice strained as you tried to maintain a semblance of resistance. “I need to sleep.”

She only chuckled softly, the sound a low, soothing rumble against your ear. “Hush, my dear. You’re my wife, You need to relax and unwind. You’ve had a very long, stressful day.”

Despite your best efforts, the exhaustion and emotional strain of the day began to take their toll. Minthara’s warmth was surprisingly comforting, and as you lay there, you found it increasingly difficult to maintain your resistance. Finally, you relented, sinking into her embrace with a tired sigh. The soft rhythm of her breathing and the steady warmth of her body gradually coaxed you into a state of uneasy relaxation. Minthara’s arms tightened around you, and she nuzzled her cheek against your temple.

“There, isn’t that better?” she whispered, her voice laced with affectionate satisfaction. “You’re my darling little divine one, and I’ll take care of you.”

The endearment, while somewhat mocking, held a certain warmth that made you feel a little more secure, despite the complex feelings swirling within you. As you lay there in her arms, you allowed yourself to succumb to the quiet comfort of her embrace, hoping that sleep would come and bring some respite from the chaos of the day.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Woweee what a chapter, i think we are all the high priestess in this chapter. But it's just stress relief guys, that's all it is... definitely...

Please comment to your hearts desire I read and cherish every single one of them, thank you so much for everyone's support ! Again comment if you want to be on the taglist - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

taglist: @mimetoist @thepotatoislost @needyformilfs @longjohnsilverfish @spacezombiez @morganaspet @h-doodles @les-bee @wineredsea @gaysindistress @coratheninth

[moonselune]

hey hey! Can we get a drabble of overstimulating bg3 girls?

oooooOOOOOooooOOooO

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Karlach lay on the bed, her body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Her breathing was heavy and erratic, her chest rising and falling rapidly. You hovered over her, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you ran your fingers gently over her heated skin.

"Please," Karlach whimpered, her voice tinged with both desperation and delight. "I can't take anymore…"

You chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss her tenderly. "But you look so beautiful like this," you murmured against her lips, your hand trailing down to her core, drawing another gasp from her.

Karlach's body trembled under your touch, her muscles twitching in response to the overwhelming sensations. "You’re such a tease," she managed to say between ragged breaths, her hands clutching at the sheets in a futile attempt to ground herself.

Your fingers moved with deliberate slowness, drawing out every moment of her pleasure. Karlach's moans grew louder, her head tossing from side to side as she struggled to maintain control. "Please," she begged again, her voice breaking. "I'm going to… I can't…"

You increased the pressure slightly, watching as her eyes rolled back in her head. "Just a little more, love," you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. "You're so close."

With a final, agonizingly slow stroke, Karlach's body arched off the bed, her cry of release echoing. She collapsed back against the pillows, her body quivering with aftershocks as you held her gently.

"You're amazing," you whispered, kissing her forehead. Karlach looked up at you with dazed, adoring eyes, her lips curving into a satisfied smile.

"I… I can't believe you did that to me," she murmured, her voice weak but filled with affection. "But I loved every second of it."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

Minthara lay before you, her body relaxed as she recovered, but you could see her muscles tense with anticipation. Her eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours as you trailed a finger down her sternum. A shiver ran through her, though she tried to mask it with a glare.

"Don't think you can break me," she growled, her voice laced with challenge. "I can handle whatever you throw at me."

You smirked, leaning in to kiss her neck, your hand moving lower to tease her relentlessly. "We'll see about that," you whispered against her skin, feeling her pulse quicken beneath your lips.

Minthara's body responded despite her defiant words, her muscles twitching under your touch. You pushed her further, your fingers working with precision to drive her wild. Her breaths became shallow and ragged, her control slipping with each passing moment.

"Damn you," she hissed, her voice wavering. "This… this is nothing…"

You increased the intensity, your movements relentless. Minthara's bravado began to crumble, her moans growing louder and more desperate. "Stop," she demanded weakly, but there was no conviction in her voice.

"Just a little more," you coaxed, your eyes locked onto hers. "I want to see you come undone, my love,"

Minthara's body betrayed her, arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her cries of release were raw and primal, her body trembling uncontrollably. You held her through it, whispering soothing words as she came down from the peak of ecstasy. When she finally stilled, her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at you with a mix of frustration and awe.

"You, I-" her words were jumbled but eventually she managed to string a sentence together, her voice weak. "That was a lot."

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But you loved it," you whispered, kissing her softly. Minthara's lips curved into a reluctant smile, her eyes softening.

"Perhaps," she admitted, her voice filled with a new, begrudging respect. "But don't think I'll let you do that again without a fight."

You chuckled, holding her close. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Lae'zel lay back, her muscular body relaxed but her eyes filled with challenge as she recovered from her previous orgasm.

A smirk playing on her lips as you continued to play with her. "I know my body well. I doubt you can offer me anything new."

You smiled confidently, leaning in to kiss her, your hands exploring her familiar contours with a newfound intensity. "Let's see about that," you whispered against her lips.

You started slowly, teasing her with gentle touches and kisses, building the anticipation. Lae'zel's smirk faded as her body began to respond, her breaths growing deeper and more uneven. Her eyes widened slightly as you expertly found her most sensitive spots, drawing soft moans from her lips.

"Impressive," she muttered, her voice tinged with surprise. But you weren't done yet.

You increased the pressure, your hands and mouth working in perfect harmony to push her further than she'd ever been. Lae'zel's composure began to crumble, her moans turning into desperate gasps. She clutched at the sheets, her body writhing beneath your touch.

"By Mother Gith," she breathed, her voice breaking. "I… I can't…"

You continued, relentless in your pursuit of her pleasure. With a final, intense movement, Lae'zel's body arched off the bed, her cry of release echoing through the room. She collapsed back, her body trembling with aftershocks as you held her gently.

"How did you…?" she began, her voice filled with awe and disbelief.

You smiled, kissing her forehead. "I know your body too, Lae'zel. And I adore surprising you."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart lay before you, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and desire. "You think you can top me. then?" she asked, her voice challenging but slightly wavering as she recomposed herself from your previous round. "We'll see about that."

You smirked, leaning in to kiss her, your hands moving with a confidence born of knowing her body intimately. "Let's find out," you whispered against her lips.

You started slowly, teasing her with gentle touches and kisses, building the anticipation. Shadowheart's determination faltered as her body began to respond, her breaths growing deeper and more uneven. Her eyes widened slightly as you expertly found her most sensitive spots, drawing soft moans from her lips.

"You… you're good," she muttered, her voice tinged with surprise. But you weren't done yet.

You increased the pressure, smirking as you moved your hands and mouth in a way you knew would make her come apart. Shadowert gasped and twitched as the overstimulation gave way to pleasure, her composure beginning to crumble, her moans turning into desperate gasps. She clutched at your shoulders, her body writhing beneath your touch.

"I can't… I can't take it," she gasped, her voice breaking.

"Yes, you can," You hummed back, as you continued, relentless in your pursuit of her pleasure. With a final, intense movement, Shadowheart's body arched off the bed, her scream of release echoing through the room. She collapsed back, her body trembling with aftershocks as you held her gently.

"Okay, you did it," she whispered, her voice filled with awe and disbelief. "You topped me."

You smiled, kissing her softly. "I told you I could."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

Jaheira lay back, panting after your previous entanglement, you looked over her with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"I trust you, to know what you are doing" she said, her voice filled with a mix of apprehension and desire. "But I don't know if I can handle this."

You smiled reassuringly, leaning in to kiss her, your hands moving with a confidence born of knowing her body intimately. "Trust me, you can" you whispered against her lips.

You started slowly, teasing her with gentle touches and kisses, softly overstimulating. Jaheira's tension began to melt away as her body responded, her breaths growing deeper and more uneven. She would try to instinctively jerk away but you kept her close. Her eyes then widened slightly as you expertly found her most sensitive spots, drawing soft moans from her lips.

"I… I don't know if I can take this," she muttered, her voice tinged with uncertainty. But you weren't done yet.

You increased the pressure, your hands and mouth working to push her further, past the point of pain and into pleasure. Jaheira's composure began to crumble, her moans turning into desperate gasps. She clutched at the sheets, her body writhing beneath your touch.

"Please," she gasped, her voice breaking. "It's too much…"

"You've got this, beloved," You assured her and with a final, intense movement, Jaheira's body tensed then arched off the bed, her moan of release sending prideful pleasure through you. She collapsed back, her body trembling with aftershocks as you held her gently.

"How did you…?" she began, her voice filled with awe and disbelief.

You smiled, kissing her forehead. "I know your body, Jaheira. And I love giving you the best pleasure."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you all enjoyed it, struggled a tad with this one hence why it may seem a bit repetitive but hey ho - Seluney xox

[moonselune]

Oh one for the BG3 ladies where gn!Tav get‘s them to squirt for the first time. But of course only if you comfortable with that.

So sorry that this took so long to post! But we got there eventually:

NSFW | MDNI

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

"Ready for something new?" you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on her skin as you settled between her legs. You had place a pillow under the small of her back, after overhearing something in Sharess' Caress.

Karlach laughed, a sound filled with both excitement and nervousness. "Always," she replied, her eyes shining with trust.

You took your time, your touch gentle and teasing as you explored her body. You paid special attention to her thighs as Karlach's breath came in short gasps as you found the spots there that made her shiver and moan. You then moved to her cunt your lips and tongue working to bring her pleasure, your fingers slipping inside her with a steady rhythm. The bruises you left on the inside of her thighs beginning to bloom. You used your spare hand to press lightly down on her abdomen as you continued to thrust your fingers in and out of her.

As you increased the pace, Karlach's moans grew louder, her body tensing and trembling. "Oh, gods," she gasped, her hands clutching at your hair and you could feel the heat from her hands begin to curl your hair. You were sure you were going to come out of this with a new hairdo. You smirked against her, your tongue playing with her clit as she began to whine, "I... I can't..."

You persisted, not backing down after not heraring your safe word and you soon felt the rush of wetness as her body convulsed, her pleasure spilling over in an intense release. Karlach haphazardly threw her hand over her mouth to try and stop the filfthy noises that were leaving her, but you both knew you would be getting complaints from your campmates in the morning. Once she got her breath back she sat up and stared at you, wide-eyed and breathless. "What... did you do? That was amazing.."

You smiled, kissing your way back up to her lips. "Just showing you how much I love you," you murmured, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

"You are mine," she whispered, her voice low and commanding as she aggressively pulled her close to you, "Show me what that means."

You met her gaze with equal intensity, your hands moving to undress her with a deliberate slowness that made her breath hitch. You were sure to take your time, to tease her as much as you could without her retribution. Once she was bare before you, you guided her to the bedroll, pushing her down roughly before your hands explored her body with reverence and desire. You knew you could push Minthara but you had to give something in return.

You dragged your nails down her body before resting between her thighs, your touch teasing and gentle at first, toying with her cunt. Minthara hummed and moaned to your touch. You then became more insistent as you roughly flicked her clit and tongued her entrance. The mix of friction and pleasure, leaving Minthara panting for you. You withdrew you tongue and replace it with your deft fingers, you knew Minthara's body better than you knew your own and you quickly found the spot that made her gasp and shudder. Minthara's usual composure began to crack, her moans becoming more urgent.

"Don't stop," she growled, her voice thick with need. "Make me... feel it."

You increased your pace, your fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring her to the edge. When you finally pushed her over, her body tensed, and she let out a cry of pure ecstasy. But instead of giving her respite as you usually did, you continued, overstimulating her core. She writhed and gasped beneath you but did not push you away, trusting you. Soon enough Minthara was arching her back and calling your name like a prayer. Something within her snapped and a rush of wetness followed, her pleasure spilling over in a way she had never experienced before. You lapped it up diligently and admiring the way her cunt twitched at your touch. When you were done you moved up her body and kissed her sloppily, sharing her taste.

Eventually, in need of air she pulled back and stared at you in shock, her chest heaving. "That... was incredible"

You grinned, leaning in to kiss her deeply again, "Just showing you what it means to be yours, for you to be mine."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The moonlight, gentle and silvery, filtered through the canopy of leaves above, casting a soft glow over the cozy confines of your shared tent. Shadowheart lay beside you, her usually composed demeanor softened by the intimacy you shared. Her breath, a rhythmic cadence, mingled with the faint sounds of the forest outside.

You leaned closer, trailing kisses along the curve of her neck, each touch a testament to the depth of your desire. Shadowheart's eyes, typically guarded, now shimmered with a mix of anticipation and trust, her hands gently clutching the sheets beneath her.

"Shadowheart," you whispered, your voice thick with longing. "Let me take care of you tonight."

A small nod was her response, accompanied by a subtle bite of her lip, a gesture betraying both nervousness and eager anticipation. Her fingers tightened on the fabric as you ventured lower, your kisses growing more insistent with each passing moment.

When you reached the apex of her thighs, you moved with a tender yet confident touch, eliciting a soft, involuntary moan from Shadowheart's lips. Your fingers teased and explored, finding a rhythm that coaxed her body into a slow dance of pleasure. She squirmed beneath your touch, her moans growing louder with each pass.

As the intensity built, Shadowheart's breath quickened, her body arching toward yours in wordless invitation. You maintained your steady pace, whispering words of reassurance and adoration, guiding her through the rising tide of sensation.

Then, in a breathless moment, you felt the unmistakable rush of fluid against your fingertips as her body tensed and shuddered in release.

"By the gods," she gasped, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. "What… what did you do to me?"

You smiled, a tender expression etched on your features as you moved back up to capture her lips in a deep, lingering kiss. "Just showing you how much I love you," you murmured against her mouth, your heart swelling with satisfaction at having brought her such exquisite pleasure.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The air inside your tent crackled with tension, thick with anticipation as Lae'zel stood before you. Her eyes, usually sharp and focused, now shimmered with a mix of challenge and something deeper—an openness to surrender, to be led into realms of pleasure she had never explored, despite her experience.

"Prove your strength," she demanded, her voice a low, commanding rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Show me what you can do."

You met her gaze head-on, your own eyes mirroring her intensity as you moved with a rough vigour to undress her. Each piece of armor and garment fell brutally away under your touch, revealing the powerful physique that lay beneath. The anticipation in the air heightened as you moved her to the bed, your hands tracing over the contours of her muscular frame with reverence and desire.

Resting between her thighs, you began with teasing touches, each caress eliciting a hitch in her breath and a soft gasp from her lips. Your movements grew bolder, more insistent, as you paid special attention to the places that made her moan and arch towards you. You continued and Lae'zel's usual composure began to crack under the onslaught of sensation, her moans growing urgent and her body responding eagerly to your touch.

"Don't stop," she growled, her voice thick with raw need. "Make me feel it."

Your pace quickened, fingers and tongue working in tandem with a practiced precision born of desire and connection. You guided her to the precipice of pleasure, each stroke pushing her closer to the edge. When you finally pushed her over, her body tensed, and a cry of ecstasy tore from her lips. A rush of wetness followed, her release cascading over her in waves of unfamiliar, overpowering sensation.

Lae'zel stared at you in wide-eyed astonishment, her chest rising and falling rapidly with the force of her pleasure. "What… what was that?" she managed to gasp out, her voice tinged with disbelief.

You grinned, a sense of pride flooding through you, you moved up her body quickly and pinned her to the bed, kissing her roughly, sharing in her sweet taste. Lae'zel was quick to flip you, and straddled you.

"What did you do to me?" She repeated, with a scorn that you knew was playful. Your smug expression did not help your situation and she pushed you again into the bed.

"Showed you my strength - want me to do it again?" You smirked, and Lae'zel couldn't help but smile also - and you took that as a yes and pulled her down to you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[moonselune]

Minty and her werewolf girlfriend for a dabble?

oooo

I can imagine Minthara loving the primal aspect of her girlfriend. How loyal she is and subservient to her primal desires. That is something Minthara can work with. Something she can use, As Minthara is nothing but efficient.

Full moon? Minthara is encouraging you to hunt to your darkest desire, friend or foe, as long as it is the two of you remaining, she doesn't care.

Seeing you crawl back to her, covered in blood, whimpering from the complications of your human morality.. this is where Minthara is in her prime.

She is there, washing you, bathing you, whispering praise to you. She adores you. She loves you. She is the only one there for you, and she will keep it that way, you are hers, beast and all.

[moonselune]

Guess who made an Ao3 Account :)

Now you can guys can read it on Ao3 if you so desire xox

By The Silk That Binds Us (25784 words) by moonselune Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games), Bg3 - Fandom, baldur's gate 3 - Fandom

Thank you again for all your love on this series x

-Seluney xox