Falling Deep Down
(AN: One of the more interesting things I've ever written, and the first Femslash I have ever successfully finished. I can truly call myself gay now. But I can also call myself completely crazy now, as this is Bellatrix/Narcissa/Andromeda. So, not only is it Femslash, it's also a threesome and incest, plus some implied iffy consent. Completely random, just popped into my head this morning and refused to die, so it may completely suck. I hope someone likes it!)
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Bellatrix was falling; falling deep down, past where anything but those wonderful fingers could bring her back. There were the hands in her hair, on her neck, sweeping with just the right amount of pressure to drive her mad. There were the hands on her thighs, slowing moving north and teasing at the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down slowly as the other stroked her curly black hair back, letting her see again. She looked into the blond girl's eyes, sitting in the spot she belonged and touching her, just like that, dropping her down, down, down. As her head arched back, she caught sight of the brunette, still with her hands in Bella's hair, afraid to touch, as always, but enjoying the sight, watching and waiting.
She was the only one undressed, but that didn't bother her; it was the perfect way. She deserved to be the center of attention, to be fucked for hours and return nothing until she was ready. She deserved this – just like that! – because she was Bellatrix Black, and she deserved this. This was her power over the two weaker girls, the ones who would grow up to be nothing, while she would always be something; she would always be Bellatrix.
She scared her sisters; that much was obvious. They obeyed her with the submission they ought to, were frightened of the way she ordered them around. Bellatrix dreamed of the day when everyone would obey her like Cissy and Dromeda, when she was in charge as her blood and her skills demanded.
Narcissa finally ended her insistent foreplay and added one finger, agonizingly slowly, and Bella arched, catching sight of Andromeda again. She was pale and weak – weak in the way that made Bellatrix want to forget her, except for those too short moments when she decided she needed to touch, to be touched, when she made Bellatrix fall better than Cissy ever could, no matter how hard she tried. For now, Bella tried to ignore her, because there would be a day when Dromeda would never be welcome near Blacks again, not-withstanding blood-traitors cousins; Bella knew this.
Narcissa was focused on making Bellatrix scream; her face showed the concentration. Bella held this sister in even more contempt that Andromeda – she was beautiful, strong willed, but weak, unwilling to do what she needed to, sending away the suitors while Bella welcomed them, hoping for children to carry on the pure blood, and keeping the men from weaker girls, weaker blood. Narcissa sent them packing while Bella welcomed them into her bed, almost hoping for a mistake, a child of her own, but then it was back to the blond and the brunette and the secrets, the lies, the tendency to make love together that all three had, whether it was Bellatrix's forcing or not.
Their mother and father weren't aware of the late night trysts their daughters had together, but they knew perfectly well what went on when Bella brought a man home. They were just as hopeful as she was for a child, and every time a man left the house, they would hold their breath for the next month, and sigh when nothing happened. The fear that their most prized daughter wasn't going to have a child, and that all of the Black name that would be carried on would be Dromeda and Cissy's children – because Sirius certainly didn't count and Regulus wasn't expected to come out of his room to procreate, ever – scared them.
But Bella could keep going back to her sisters, and perhaps that was all she really needed. Laying in bed here, sated, holding Narcissa's fingers that still smelled heady, like sex, and with Dromeda's fingers in her hair, still declining to involve herself, other than a quick squeeze of her breast that even Bellatrix almost missed – maybe that was all she needed. After all, there were spells for children, spells for a husband, spells for power. There were whisperings of a new power, someone who would subject those who ought to be submissive, and Bellatrix yearned for the time when her dominion over her sisters and the rest of the world was recognized and accepted as perfectly alright, and she could bring them back to her, into a private bubble of bed sheets and sweet sex, even after she ruled the world.
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Her sisters saw the growing madness, that little light that didn't seem quite right, as Bellatrix leaned up for one last sweet kiss, but they closed their eyes against it. For now, Bella was Bella, this was not sadistic, this was not rape, and they wanted this – lying to themselves was easier in the post-orgasmic bliss they inevitably fell into, by their own hands, when they back alone. Narcissa was better at keeping her face calm, but Andromeda cried herself to sleep in fits of passion, when she wanted her sisters so badly she ached, and she would clench her hands and hold her breath and let the image pass, carefully concealing all of this. All of her lies broke her, but she and Cissy and Bella would be back in that bed, and she would touch Bella, and she would shamefully fuck herself at night, in her own bed, to the memories of her sisters, and then she would cry.
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(AN: I hope you enjoyed! Please review and tell me what you thought.)