Chapter 212- Dreams and Nightmares! ~Heavy NSFW~

{4 days ago}

{8th July 1991} 

{Narcissa's POV}

Narcissa felt like she was floating. Enclosed in a bubble as the waves of pleasure flowed through her, her eyes closed, her consciousness blurred. As intangible as this experience seemed to be, she could still feel the familiar motions, her body swaying, her breasts clapping against her ribcage.

'Rigel?' She thought, but it quickly slipped away, an unconscious moan left her lips as she arched her back. A rough hand grabbed onto her hair, both supporting her arch as well as inflicting just the tiny bit of pain that always aroused her.

Another hand latched onto her right breast while a pair of hot lips smacked and started suckling against the crevice of her neck. Her moans reverberated around the room, and she could hear herself screaming like a cheap knockturn alley whore. As the she creamed herself on Rigel's dick, her eyes fluttered open slightly. 

'Wait, who's that?' She thought, through her blurry eyes, she could see the silhouette of a man standing in front of her. The figure seemed vaguely familiar, but only with a fraction of her brain power free from the endless pleasure wreaking havoc on her psyche, she couldn't place him. Still slowly, the pieces were conjoined: the blond hair, the cane lying close by, the fit figure wearing expensive robes.

'Lucius, ' she thought. The realization stunned her as she opened her eyes wider, trying to verify her doubts. The figure was definitely there, but for some reason, she wasn't able to see his face, the physical pleasure that was keeping her at the edge of continuous orgasms, combined with the psychological feeling of revenge that welled up in her, caused her floodgates to open once again as she started squirting.

Rigel's hand let go of her breast as his other hand pulled her hair harder. Her back was now arched enough for him to grab onto her face by her chin. The strong grip turned her head as the lips that were suckling onto her head now latched onto her own. She reciprocated the gesture as his tongue invaded her mouth as his pelvis slammed against her ass. Screwed once again on his massive dick, she felt her eyes roll back, as her orgasm peaked once again.

...

...

"Ahhh~ MHhmmm~ Fuckkkk~" Narcissa moaned as she came back to her senses. Her back arched as her legs felt weak. Still, she slowly rose from the wet bedsheets. She looked down, her middle and ring fingers buried deep in her snatch, a long trail of wetness trailing from her vagina to the end of the bed.

'Fuck...that dream was so realisitc.' Narcissa sighed as she extracted her hand, her sensitive folds shooting down tingling sensations of pleasure as she collapsed onto the bed again. These dreams have gotten more frequent, with Lucius now appearing at the end of them every now and then. Maybe she would have felt ashamed at something like this long ago, but now she just embraced the pleasure accompanied by these morning surprises.

"Fuck how long has it been, should I try and get in touch with Rigel, he did mention that he would be going on a trip for the summer vacation." She mumbled as she closed her eyes. Her body was trembling slightly with phantom pleasure. 

'At least, these dreams can fulfill some of my desires. I shouldn't interfere with him too much...' she thought as she pulled over the sheets, covering herself as she slipped toward the bathroom.

...

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{Lucius's POV}

Lucius jolted awake, gasping sharply as the suffocating hold of the nightmare finally shattered. His heart thundered painfully, blood roaring in his ears as the twisted visions faded, yet the cruel echoes lingered, still vivid in his mind. Narcissa's closed eyes, her mouth open moaning like a whore, light glistening from her sweaty face.

His dick was throbbing, confusing jumbles of emotions filled him as he turned to look at the whore sleeping beside him, as he reached for her covers, he immediately noticed his dick rapidly deflating. The bizarre situation once again appeared.

“Just a dream,” Lucius rasped hoarsely into the darkness, trying to convince himself more than anything. “A mere nightmare.”

But as he pressed shaking hands to his clammy forehead, Lucius knew better. These nightmares had plagued him relentlessly, growing in frequency and intensity, until now they tormented him nightly. This was no ordinary dream. It was something dark and insidious, seeping slowly into the cracks of his mind. A dark curse, undoubtedly—a punishment or taunt, cast by someone who wanted to watch him suffer.

He rose slowly, throwing the sweat-soaked sheets aside, pacing the darkened room in agitation. The nightmares had begun the very night Sirius Black had been exonerated by that arrogant brat, Rigel. Ever since, Lucius had watched with growing bitterness as the empire he’d carefully built upon the foundations of the ancient and powerful Black family slowly crumbled. With Sirius no longer under suspicion, the brat had quickly passed the Regency of House Black to Andromeda Tonks—and she had swiftly dismantled all Lucius’s carefully woven agreements and trade alliances that he had negotiated using the power of the Black Family's contacts.

He’d underestimated Rigel badly, had thought him just another naïve child. But Andromeda was nothing like Sirius—she was sharp, suspicious, and entirely too clever for Lucius’s liking. Every political avenue, every carefully orchestrated plan to reclaim control had been systematically thwarted.

His influence, power, and reputation among pureblood circles had begun to weaken. Once feared and respected, the Malfoy name was now whispered with derision. Bitterness surged through Lucius, tasting like bile in his throat. He’d been brought low by a mere child—a first-year boy who seemed to possess a cunning far beyond his years. The humiliation was intolerable.

Worse, every healer or curse-breaker Lucius had consulted—including Severus Snape himself—had failed to identify the source of the relentless nightmares. Severus had examined him carefully, tested countless potions and detection spells, yet nothing had come of it. Whatever dark magic plagued Lucius was undoubtedly a closely guarded family curse—a vicious hex exclusive to the ancient bloodlines of House Black, designed specifically to torment outsiders who crossed their paths.

'Sirius would never use something like this, neither would Andromeda, which leaves Rigel...' He thought bitterly.

It had left Lucius utterly alone in his torment, forced to suffer the nightly humiliation silently, and it had begun to eat away at him, corroding his pride and confidence.

Lucius paused by his bedroom window, staring blankly out across the sprawling Malfoy estate, bathed in cold moonlight. How had it come to this—he, Lucius Malfoy, reduced to panic-stricken awakenings and quiet desperation? How had he let one arrogant child unravel everything he’d worked so tirelessly to build?

His hand tightened involuntarily, nails digging sharply into the palm of his hand as his eyes drifted downward, landing upon the faded yet unmistakable mark burned into his forearm. The Dark Mark stared back at him silently, a cruel reminder of past ambitions. For years, it had remained dormant, barely visible, but now, even in its faded state, it seemed to mock him, calling to him with dark promise.

Lucius hesitated, the thought whispering like poison in his mind. His pride rebelled fiercely against the idea of submitting to anyone—not even the Dark Lord himself. But what choice was left to him? He could not accept defeat—not at the hands of that Black brat. Not without exhausting every avenue of revenge and retribution available.

Jaw clenched, he strode purposefully across his chamber and down the long hall, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors as he entered his private office. He knew exactly which file he sought. Lucius’s meticulous nature meant nothing was ever truly lost. Within moments, he retrieved the slim, dusty folder, laying it open across his polished desk. His eyes scanned the words carefully once more, confirming the name and the scattered clues within.

Albania. The place whispered about in shadows, a haven for darkness, was rumored to be haunted by remnants of his former master. The file was thin, filled with rumors, fragmented reports from nervous informants and frightened locals—evidence barely substantial enough to count as leads. Yet desperation could transform even the most fragile rumors into possibility.

“As good a place to start as any,” Lucius murmured bitterly, tracing the letters thoughtfully with his fingertips.

He closed the file slowly, lips pressing into a thin line. The risk was tremendous, yet no greater than the threat of being destroyed by a mere child. Perhaps the Dark Lord still existed, waiting patiently in exile for someone brave—or foolish—enough to seek him out. Perhaps Lucius would find salvation in Albania, or perhaps only ruin.

But in his mind, ruin was preferable to humiliation. At least ruin was a fate met on his own terms, not dictated by an insufferable child.

With bitter resolve, Lucius straightened his shoulders, gathering his cloak from the chair. He tucked the file securely beneath his arm, determination settling firmly in his chest. If darkness was what it took to regain what he had lost, then he would embrace it wholeheartedly.

“I will not be humiliated by a child,” Lucius muttered fiercely, his voice resonating with defiance. “Nor by a Black.”

...

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AN- Light NTR scene, I wrote most of it from Narcissa's POV. What do you guys think?