A.N/ This popped up in my head today while eating breakfast... I get all my ideas while eating, actually... Anyway, I've always wanted to write a Bellamort oneshot, so, I gave it a try. It is my first attempt on something like that, and I hope you like it... Please review and tell me what you think :) Thank you for reading!


"Your arm, Bellatrix," lord Voldemort hissed to the seventeen year-old girl who stood in front of him.

Bellatrix Black lifted her eyes to meet the Dark Lord's scarlet ones, and felt beyond excited for finally being accepted to his ranks, for finally being marked as his. She was alone in the dark, large room with him, and the thought and only excited her even more. She was the first ever to receive the Dark Mark in private, and that made her feel more special than ever before in her life.

She quickly obeyed to the Dark Lord's command and pulled up the sleeve of her left arm and so he could press the tip of his wand on her pale flesh and give her the mark that would prove that she would be forever loyal to him.

Voldemort saw the excitement and anticipation in Bellatrix's eyes and his lips curled up in something like a smile. He had to admit that this girl intrigued him; she was the first one to ever be marked and show not even the tiniest sign of fear. Instead, she stood proud, waiting for her commitment, like he had never seen anyone else do. He could see that Bellatrix Black had not lied to him when she had said that she was going to serve him and be faithful to him until the end of her life.

Even though she was a girl still at school, he had seen potential in her. He had seen that her magic was very developed, even for her age, and he had sensed her fearless and independent personality and dark aura. The moment he had met Bellatrix, he had known she was going to be the perfect addition to his Deatheaters and one of the best workers for his cause.

He had also seen something in her that had made him want to take the matter of her training upon himself. He had seen her thirst for power and her determination to be the best, her determination to push herself to the limits in order to impress him. Yes, she was definitely going to be one of his best.

Voldemort lifted his wand and pressed it on Bellatrix's bear forearm. Instantly, the Dark Mark started to print across her bare skin, and the Dark Lord waited to hear the girl's cry of pain as her flesh was practically getting burned by the dark magic. However, the cry didn't come.

He looked down at her, careful not to let his surprise show across his face, and saw her staring at the procedure of her marking with eyes wide open with fascination and excitement. Her lips were tightly closed, and it was obvious that she was in pain, but she wouldn't allow herself to show signs of weakness in front of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort was surprised. Not one of the men he had marked as his Deatheaters had remained silent and excited like that while getting marked. That girl truly was fascinating to him; he decided to increase the amount of pain he was giving her, wanting to see how far she could go without breaking. But, once again, her cries of pain didn't come. Only a small hiss escaped her lips as her arm trembled, but she still stood proud and unbreakable, looking at him.

Without removing his wand from her forearm, Voldemort focused his eyes in her deep brown ones. He saw passion, determination, excitement… Everything he required from his Deatheaters, and yet only this seventeen year old girl had given all this to him with more passion than anyone else. He looked deep into her mind, wanting to see her thoughts and emotions, wanting to take a look at her fascinating beautiful little head.

It truly was the best moment in her whole life until now, he could tell that. He saw how she loved the moment, how it wanted it to last forever, how she never wanted him to remove his wand from her skin and leave, how she wanted to stay there with him for ever… He saw how she felt so passionate for him, how the Mark didn't hurt her but sent jolts of pleasure through her, how she was now thinking of how she wanted to kiss him, and keep kissing him for an eternity… And how she had been seeing him like that since they had first met.

He pulled out of her mind and finished with the Dark Mark, which was now perfectly printed upon her skin, glowing black and seeming almost alive, making a perfect contrast with her creamy pale skin.

She was panting heavily, not knowing how to react now that the Dark Lord had seen all the thoughts she was having for him, now that he know how much she wanted him, how she felt for him.

The image of him kissing her soft lips now wouldn't leave Voldemort's mind, and he already regretted having looked into Bellatrix's deepest thoughts. He would certainly admit that she was a very beautiful and attractive young woman, but never had he looked at her like that. Until now, at least.

"Bellatrix," he said coldly, his face unreadable, like he had never seen any of her fantasies about him. "You are now officially a Deatheater, and you have my mark on your forearm," he said, his voice sending shivers down Bellatrix's spine. After she murmured a quick "Yes, my lord," he continued. "Every time I summon you, you will feel it through your mark and you will come straight to me, no matter what you will be doing at the time. If you're late, you will be punished. When I call you, I will expect you to be there immediately. Are we clear on that?" he asked coolly.

Bellatrix nodded.

"Good," he whispered, and, before he could control himself, he took a step closer to her, his breath now tingling her face. He could see the effects he had on her; her heart was pumping hard against her chest, her breathing was heavy and her eyes focused into his with such passion, that even he found almost impossible to resist to…

"You're mine now, Bella," he whispered to her, making her shiver. Bella… He had called her by her pet name, for the first time, he noticed.

"I am yours, my lord," she managed to whisper back, and now it was his turn to feel a chill down his spine. No woman had ever had this effect on him, ever.

Before he could realize what he was doing, his hand moved to the back of her head and grabbed her long black curls and his lips crashed violently on hers.

A sense of triumph took over Bellatrix, but it quickly gave its place to a sense of absolute giving to the man of her dreams. She responded to the kiss with more passion than she had ever kissed another man with before, and wrapped her hands around his neck, desperately pulling him closer to her. She moaned against his mouth, wanting it to last for ever.

He suddenly pulled back, panting, but still holding her in his arms. He had never felt like that before; wanting a certain woman so much… Love was a mystery to him, but lust… Yes, he was familiar with lust, and he had never felt lust for another so intense in his whole life.

"Master," he heard her whisper, and he kissed her again, holding her tightly again his own body, and then pushed her against the wall. "Bella," he groaned, and quickly started undressing her, completely lost in his own passion. Only a few seconds later, their naked bodies were touching, screaming for each other's touch.

"My Lord, I-" Bellatrix said, but he silenced her with another kiss and took her, wanting nothing at the moment but her.

Maybe he would regret it once it was done. Maybe he would think that all this was a mistake. But he didn't care. Lord Voldemort was a powerful man, and he never gave into temptations and weaknesses. But Bellatrix… Bellatrix was a different case. She was his, she was his beautiful Bella.