Summary: History would remember her as Voldemort's second in command. Souless, insane and with a thirst for blood. Very few wondered why. Bellatrix/Cygnus lll. Incest. Non-con. One-shot.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters.
Black Cracks
They're growing wider.
The cracks on the wall.
If she stares at them hard enough she can actually see them drifting apart, as whatever it is that holds them together becomes dust and falls away.
She hopes the walls fall down soon and bury her with it.
She doesn't want to feel.
At times, no matter how hard she tries to fight it, her body still reacts.
It's worse when he uses his mouth on her.
She wished it didnt feel so good. Because it shouldn't feel good.
It should hurt more than anything in this world.
Rather than beg and ache for his touch, she should have to fight down bile and the urge to vomit.
But he's always so sincere.
Every caress, each well placed kiss, his skilled tongue - she pinches her rosy nipple as her back arches off the bed and her toes curl. She moans loudly.
His touches are soft and worshiping.
Gentle. Skilled. Addictive.
The pleasure he creates within her is almost worth the pain.
Almost.
He sucks her clit and she pants and twists on her bed.
Groaning, she grabs at his head. Grey-blue eyes, twins to her own, stare up at her. She gasps as his soft tongue moves inside her. All at once, wanting him to stop and hoping he doesn't.
A klaxon like sound rings out then and plaster rains down upon them.
He doesn't stop at the noise, does not even acknowledge it. She knew he wouldn't, because he never does. He can't see what she sees or hear what she hears.
She's pleased at the fact.
It's the only thing he can't take from her.
She stares at her ceiling. The cracks are pulsing now. Slowly drifting apart. Threatening to collapse - her eyes slam shut and she calls out to him. Her moans both pleading and desperate.
Whether a demand for him to stop or repeat his movement, not even she knows anymore.
The walls creak as they begin to shake.
He finally stops lapping at her and she's both grateful and angry at the fact.
More plaster falls.
Gasping for breath, she watches as he slythers over her body until he's perfectly positioned. His heavy weight settles over her as he slides into her warmth.
'Mmm...' he whispers into her ear, 'You're so wet baby.'
A tingle runs down her spine at the feeling.
Her body shivers, causing her heated and sensitised flesh to rub against his, accidentally caressing her core. She whimpers and he takes this as an invitation.
He pushes then. Moves into her, deep and slow. A delicious burn beginning to pull her under.
She shuts her eyes as tears threaten to fall. Because he's right. She is wet. She's wet for him. Her father.
She opens her eyes and stares at the cracks on her ceiling wall. They've gotten wider she thinks. She takes joy in the fact. They're opening up and they'll destroying him. Her. Them. Right now, this very instant.
Her breath hitches and her eyes slam shut.
A moan is ripped from her throat and her hips buck to match his rhythm. The room wails and the windows rattle.
Over and over again he drives into her.
Panting and doglike he drools for her. His eldest daughter. Who, at the age of fourteen, is still very much a child.
He pauses.
For a moment the only sound in the room is their heavy breathing.
Sweaty and disgusting, he is still in her and above her and she aches for him move.
She is very close to completion and her body is humming and throbbing for her daddy's cock.
The room rattles violently.
He's watching her squirm and he smiles down at her because he knows and she's ashamed.
'Want me to stop?' he asks.
She shakes her head, because she doesn't. She wants him to finish fucking her. To make her orgasm around him.
Behind his head, she can see the cracks opening.
It's disgusting and shamefull and the walls quake around them. Bits of plaster fall.
The promise of oblivion within those slowly growing cracks.
He pushes into her again as he lowers his mouth to suck on a hardened nipple. She grunts and squirms as he moves.
Once, twice, three times and she flutters around him.
She cries out as she clings to him. Legs wrapped around him, clutching his arse as her daddy makes her cum.
Grunting, he follows her over the edge and empties himself inside of her body.
As she lays there trembling and trying to catch her breath, the room around her begins to settle.
In the aftermath he smiles and peppers her with kisses. He dresses in his nightclothes once again, lifts all privacy spells and leaves.
She's left in her bed, naked and sticky.
Their combined fluids slowly seeping out of her as she stares at the cracks. Spiderlike and pulsing, they begin to shrink but they no longer close. The gap large enough that she can see the darkness within.
And that's ok she thinks.
Perhaps next time. Tomorrow night.
Slowly, she puts on her nightgown, and covers herself.
She lays awake long into the night. Unmoving, hardly blinking, barely daring to breathe.
And all around her, the walls continued to crumble and crack.