Date Night (NC-17; Severus/Narcissa, Severus/Bellatrix; 1150 words)
Title: Date Night
Author:
iulia_linnea
Pairings: Severus/Narcissa, Severus/Bellatrix
Rating: NC-17
Warning (highlight to view): For adult themes, momentary, mild violence, and mention of miscarriage/end of pregnancy.
Word Count: 1150
Summary: It's absurd, fucking sisters. Absurd. Why can't he stop?
Disclaimer: This work of fan fiction is based on characters and situations created by J. K. Rowling and owned by J. K. Rowling and various publishers, including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made from (and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended by) the posting of this fan work.
Author's Note: Author's Note: Written as a Category Four entry for the 2023 run of snapecase.
After the Unbreakable Vow is made and witnessed and Narcissa has left with her sister, she comes back. She comes many times after that, as well, but mostly, she comes to talk.
"He has failed us badly. He has badly failed us. Badly, he has-"
"Failed you?" asks Severus, as he pours more wine for Narcissa. "You're babbling, you know."
"I always do after taking your cock this deeply. Put down the bottle. I want to have you again."
He keeps these sheets, silk, just for her, so Severus sends the bottle and their glasses back to the side table and grinds against Narcissa. Her gasp is more intoxicating than any wine could possibly hope to be. She is out of his league, and he likes that. He likes to know that he has soiled someone who Lucius considers to be a something, a something that belongs to Lucius.
"You," he says, through the pain of pleasure that is a vengeful Narcissa squeezing around his cock, "you belong to yourself."
"Don't start," Narcissa orders. "Not this. Not now."
Severus thrusts slowly inside of her, withdraws more slowly. Narcissa seizes him by the hair, demands that he move. He doesn't. He smirks-but at her slap he growls and rolls over so that she's atop him and furiously, furiously riding him. There is no man made of flesh who could last. He does not.
"FUCK!"
Narcissa giggles. "Wine." The glass, thus Summoned, gently glides into her hand. She sips. "That's enough fucking. I'm hungry. Have your elf-"
"I . . . don't have . . . an elf, Narcissa. You know that." He laughs; she knows he knows and he knows that she knows. "Why do you play with me?"
"Because I can."
Severus looks at her. "Because I allow it."
"Keep telling yourself that."
"Perhaps I should say because Bella allows it."
The sheets stain as Narcissa's wine spills all over them-because of course, it's the wine's fault, and not Narcissa's.
"You're fucking my sister?"
Severus smiles. It's a small one, more than a smirk, but it's cold. "You think I wait for you and your disappointment, madam?"
"Accio robes!"
"You know you can't yet leave. She's not out there. She's not here to see you. . . . I know she knows we fuck, just as I know you know that she and I fuck, and both of you get off on the idea of having me 'together'. You like to share in your 'low' tastes."
"That's not true!" Narcissa protests, but the pleasing flush that starts at her belly and rides her throat to her cheeks belies her words.
"I'm not choosy about my company, either, Mrs. Malfoy."
"No, I suppose not," Narcissa says, suddenly still. "The only company missing is your redhead."
Fhwhap!
It's not she Severus slaps but his other palm near her face. The look of shock this engenders is enough for Severus . . . almost. He remembers his father and sicks up next to the bed. It's his turn to feel surprised as the cold wet cloth touches his brow, his cheeks, his mouth.
"I'm sorry," they say, as one.
They are not friends nor truly lovers. Severus does not know what they are to each other. Convenient, perhaps-and mayhap one shouldn't attempt to classify one's weakness and stupidity.
Narcissa raises Severus' hand to the cloth and moves off the bed to dress. "The wine was good."
"What an absurd thing to say."
"The entire situation is absurd and always has been," Narcissa replies, sounding entirely sober now.
Severus clears his throat to say what he always says. "We cannot meet again."
"I agree. Next week?"
"Same time," he tells Narcissa.
And then she is gone. He has only a matter of moments before Bellatrix turns up. It's a good thing his housecleaning spellwork is as solid as it is. Severus doesn't actually know if Bella knows that he fucks her sister, and he does not wish to find out.
~*~
"Take care with the charms this time."
"Why?" he asks her.
Bella shrugs, leaning back into the pillows to display herself for him. "I was pregnant."
By sheer act of will, Severus does not sick up between Bella's legs.
"But I'm not now, silly. Go on. Get on with it!"
Severus pushes himself up off the bed. "No, I don't believe that I will, Madam Lestrange."
She pouts while Severus dresses.
"Well, if you're not going to shag me, at least feed me. You're good at cooking."
"Bitch. I'm a fantastic fuck."
Bellatrix grins that maniacal grin he knows so well, and Severus asks himself, What the fuck are you doing?
Her face lights up. "Ha! I know! I know what you're doing! You're cooking me sausages, aren't you?"
The kittenish way she is looking up at him is ridiculously appealing. He's hard again. He tries to frown.
Bella laughs. "Oh, goodie! We're actually going to fuck, after all! But then," she says, opening her legs to him again, "I want my sausages!"
It's absurd, fucking sisters. Absurd. Why can't he stop?
When they stop, it's Bella who lights the stove. Severus puts it out immediately.
"Bellatrix, no! It's electric! I've told you this over and over and-"
"Sausages without a scolding, please!" she sing-songs at him.
"Toast? Eggs? Juice?"
"All of it!"
"Coming up." Severus sighs, repairs the damage with a swish and a flick and a stab, and then gets on with it.
Bellatrix's appetites are enormous, and she is, however temporarily, incredibly generous in her praise of him if he meets them to her satisfaction.
That's why. That's why I can't stop fucking you, evil murderous bitch though you may be.
And why can't he leave Narcissa alone, wonders Severus, nodding along deafly to Bellatrix's conversation.
He doesn't know. He sometimes imagines it's because she is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, but that's a lie. "His" redhead was the most beautiful witch ever to be born. No, all things being equal-and honest-it's because one day, not that soon, he's going to tell Lucius Malfoy that his perfect and pristine wife is an abject hussy in the sack.
Severus hopes that he will do this telling before he kills Lucius, but it's more likely-
"Ow!" Severus snaps, as Bellatrix seizes his chin.
"Oh, no. Oh, dear. You imbecile. It's entirely unlikely that you'd live to kill Lucius. Cissy would never allow that."
Severus Occludes, but it is entirely too late for discretionary magic.
"How?" he murmurs.
"How did you get here?" Bellatrix waves around her arms and giggles. "Because you have a magnificent cock and no control over it."
Picking up his mug of coffee, Severus pretends to knock it against the one Bella isn't holding. "Agreed. . . . It is magnificent, or so Narcissa tells me."
By the time Severus has managed to fuck Bellatrix literally senseless, it's long past dawn-but he doesn't care as he repairs the household damages. It was the best "Date Night" ever.
"Life affirming and numbing," he murmurs to himself, knowing the truth.
Fucking sisters, particularly these ones, means never having to say, even if it's true, I miss you.
In spite of that, each night, every night-or the morning if it comes to that-Severus says it, and he says it to her. He says it because it's true, and will be always.
"I miss you, Lily."
Author:
iulia_linnea
Pairings: Severus/Narcissa, Severus/Bellatrix
Rating: NC-17
Warning (highlight to view): For adult themes, momentary, mild violence, and mention of miscarriage/end of pregnancy.
Word Count: 1150
Summary: It's absurd, fucking sisters. Absurd. Why can't he stop?
Disclaimer: This work of fan fiction is based on characters and situations created by J. K. Rowling and owned by J. K. Rowling and various publishers, including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made from (and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended by) the posting of this fan work.
Author's Note: Author's Note: Written as a Category Four entry for the 2023 run of snapecase.
After the Unbreakable Vow is made and witnessed and Narcissa has left with her sister, she comes back. She comes many times after that, as well, but mostly, she comes to talk.
"He has failed us badly. He has badly failed us. Badly, he has-"
"Failed you?" asks Severus, as he pours more wine for Narcissa. "You're babbling, you know."
"I always do after taking your cock this deeply. Put down the bottle. I want to have you again."
He keeps these sheets, silk, just for her, so Severus sends the bottle and their glasses back to the side table and grinds against Narcissa. Her gasp is more intoxicating than any wine could possibly hope to be. She is out of his league, and he likes that. He likes to know that he has soiled someone who Lucius considers to be a something, a something that belongs to Lucius.
"You," he says, through the pain of pleasure that is a vengeful Narcissa squeezing around his cock, "you belong to yourself."
"Don't start," Narcissa orders. "Not this. Not now."
Severus thrusts slowly inside of her, withdraws more slowly. Narcissa seizes him by the hair, demands that he move. He doesn't. He smirks-but at her slap he growls and rolls over so that she's atop him and furiously, furiously riding him. There is no man made of flesh who could last. He does not.
"FUCK!"
Narcissa giggles. "Wine." The glass, thus Summoned, gently glides into her hand. She sips. "That's enough fucking. I'm hungry. Have your elf-"
"I . . . don't have . . . an elf, Narcissa. You know that." He laughs; she knows he knows and he knows that she knows. "Why do you play with me?"
"Because I can."
Severus looks at her. "Because I allow it."
"Keep telling yourself that."
"Perhaps I should say because Bella allows it."
The sheets stain as Narcissa's wine spills all over them-because of course, it's the wine's fault, and not Narcissa's.
"You're fucking my sister?"
Severus smiles. It's a small one, more than a smirk, but it's cold. "You think I wait for you and your disappointment, madam?"
"Accio robes!"
"You know you can't yet leave. She's not out there. She's not here to see you. . . . I know she knows we fuck, just as I know you know that she and I fuck, and both of you get off on the idea of having me 'together'. You like to share in your 'low' tastes."
"That's not true!" Narcissa protests, but the pleasing flush that starts at her belly and rides her throat to her cheeks belies her words.
"I'm not choosy about my company, either, Mrs. Malfoy."
"No, I suppose not," Narcissa says, suddenly still. "The only company missing is your redhead."
Fhwhap!
It's not she Severus slaps but his other palm near her face. The look of shock this engenders is enough for Severus . . . almost. He remembers his father and sicks up next to the bed. It's his turn to feel surprised as the cold wet cloth touches his brow, his cheeks, his mouth.
"I'm sorry," they say, as one.
They are not friends nor truly lovers. Severus does not know what they are to each other. Convenient, perhaps-and mayhap one shouldn't attempt to classify one's weakness and stupidity.
Narcissa raises Severus' hand to the cloth and moves off the bed to dress. "The wine was good."
"What an absurd thing to say."
"The entire situation is absurd and always has been," Narcissa replies, sounding entirely sober now.
Severus clears his throat to say what he always says. "We cannot meet again."
"I agree. Next week?"
"Same time," he tells Narcissa.
And then she is gone. He has only a matter of moments before Bellatrix turns up. It's a good thing his housecleaning spellwork is as solid as it is. Severus doesn't actually know if Bella knows that he fucks her sister, and he does not wish to find out.
~*~
"Take care with the charms this time."
"Why?" he asks her.
Bella shrugs, leaning back into the pillows to display herself for him. "I was pregnant."
By sheer act of will, Severus does not sick up between Bella's legs.
"But I'm not now, silly. Go on. Get on with it!"
Severus pushes himself up off the bed. "No, I don't believe that I will, Madam Lestrange."
She pouts while Severus dresses.
"Well, if you're not going to shag me, at least feed me. You're good at cooking."
"Bitch. I'm a fantastic fuck."
Bellatrix grins that maniacal grin he knows so well, and Severus asks himself, What the fuck are you doing?
Her face lights up. "Ha! I know! I know what you're doing! You're cooking me sausages, aren't you?"
The kittenish way she is looking up at him is ridiculously appealing. He's hard again. He tries to frown.
Bella laughs. "Oh, goodie! We're actually going to fuck, after all! But then," she says, opening her legs to him again, "I want my sausages!"
It's absurd, fucking sisters. Absurd. Why can't he stop?
When they stop, it's Bella who lights the stove. Severus puts it out immediately.
"Bellatrix, no! It's electric! I've told you this over and over and-"
"Sausages without a scolding, please!" she sing-songs at him.
"Toast? Eggs? Juice?"
"All of it!"
"Coming up." Severus sighs, repairs the damage with a swish and a flick and a stab, and then gets on with it.
Bellatrix's appetites are enormous, and she is, however temporarily, incredibly generous in her praise of him if he meets them to her satisfaction.
That's why. That's why I can't stop fucking you, evil murderous bitch though you may be.
And why can't he leave Narcissa alone, wonders Severus, nodding along deafly to Bellatrix's conversation.
He doesn't know. He sometimes imagines it's because she is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, but that's a lie. "His" redhead was the most beautiful witch ever to be born. No, all things being equal-and honest-it's because one day, not that soon, he's going to tell Lucius Malfoy that his perfect and pristine wife is an abject hussy in the sack.
Severus hopes that he will do this telling before he kills Lucius, but it's more likely-
"Ow!" Severus snaps, as Bellatrix seizes his chin.
"Oh, no. Oh, dear. You imbecile. It's entirely unlikely that you'd live to kill Lucius. Cissy would never allow that."
Severus Occludes, but it is entirely too late for discretionary magic.
"How?" he murmurs.
"How did you get here?" Bellatrix waves around her arms and giggles. "Because you have a magnificent cock and no control over it."
Picking up his mug of coffee, Severus pretends to knock it against the one Bella isn't holding. "Agreed. . . . It is magnificent, or so Narcissa tells me."
By the time Severus has managed to fuck Bellatrix literally senseless, it's long past dawn-but he doesn't care as he repairs the household damages. It was the best "Date Night" ever.
"Life affirming and numbing," he murmurs to himself, knowing the truth.
Fucking sisters, particularly these ones, means never having to say, even if it's true, I miss you.
In spite of that, each night, every night-or the morning if it comes to that-Severus says it, and he says it to her. He says it because it's true, and will be always.
"I miss you, Lily."