Another year, another Halloween they get into a vicious spat.
The evening hadn't started out so badly, Severus had fulfilled his orders, stopped by Hogwarts to help Minerva withe the wards on the punches, and bid them all a happy Hallows Eve. Once he returned home, to an empty house, however, he went straight to his elvish liquor. Not even fire whiskey was strong enough for what he had witnessed earlier.
He had though he and Hermione were doing well. One child in, five years of marriage under this ridiculous law, while there was no love lost, they had formed what one could call a domestic partnership.
Until he saw her with Potter, with Their child, walking around Diagon alley, hand in hand, making an absolute fool of him.
He apparated home immediately, refusing to lose his temper or get answers for his wife's behavior Infront of their daughter.
This year was supposed to be different. This year, they were supposed to be happy.
Now, four glasses into his elvish mead, sufficiently drunk, he tried to reign himself in when his wife stepped out of the floo holding a very tired, black haired head of ringlets.
Putting her finger to her lip, she motioned for him to stay quiet. Bitterness creeped inside his veins as a fleeting thought plagued him.
'What is she's Potter's'
No. That was his daughter. That was HIS wife.
His cheating, lying, chit of a wife.
Stumbling towards her direction, he waited for her to exit the hallway. Regaining his composure in her absence, he started thinking of all the things he could say to get her to confess. To validate this anger that had only grew with each glass.
He was so lost in his petty plotting, he hadn't noticed her exiting their daughter's room, or standing expectantly across from him with her arms crossed.
Before he got the chance to speak, she began laying in to him.
"I don't know why I'm surprised you're standing here, drunk, again, on Halloween, when you could have participated in a family event for our daughter. You swore up and down last year things would be different, Severus. All day she was asking where you were, why Al and Teddy got to spend Halloween with their dad's, but she can't with hers." Her voice was raising now, he tried to push down the guilt and focus on the anger she was already explaining away. Turning his back to her, he strode to the kitchens island and finished off his fifth glass, before turning back to find her standing closer to him, not letting his vitriol yet leave his mouth.
"I understand it, I do, or I try to. I know you Loved Lily, I know you spent SO long with unfathomable grief and guilt so, so heavy on your shoulders," Her voice waivered as she continued, and he could tell she was fighting tears, "I know today is the hardest day for you. I give you allowances year after year, but Severus, she is three years old, and she is noticing. We are your family, We're right here. Lily is dead, drinking away your sorrows isn't going to bring her back." He could tell she was trying to will herself to remain calm, he could tell she was trying to stay levelheaded, and it only made his dizzy.
He couldn't focus. He couldn't let the tears burning behind his eyes come to light. He couldn't focus on the sympathy she had shown him, or how in awe of her he continued to be. Couldn't focus on how amazing she was. No, he knew what he saw. Smiles, hand in hand, his daughter probably wishing Harry was her dad, someone who could show affection easily and celebrate the day of his parents' death with no wallowing. No, he had to let out the rage, he had to spit venom, leave Elaine out of it, focus one the witch that dared to think she had done no wrong to him.
"I loved her more than I'll ever love you, I don't know why you try! Your little friends may have found love matches, your but I assure you, that will never happen here. Your false declarations and acts of service mean nothing to me! Our daughter has nothing to do with this argument, leave her out of it!"
A left eye twitch, trapezius tightened, and she snaps.
"You're right, I shouldn't try, you're pining over a fucking ghost. You're fucking pathetic! Your harsh barbs, they mean nothing to me anymore! I'm not a child you can scare into submission, I'm your fucking wife, Severus!" Pulling up her walls, she continued, "I actually feel sorry for you, you'll never allow yourself to be cared for because you can't let go of someone you never had! I'm right. Fucking. Here!"
Anything. Anything to make her stop.
"Does it break your arrogant little heart?" He spat, "Knowing that every time I pump you full of my cum, breeding you like a pliant little wife, giving you a child, I have another womans name at the tip of my tongue?!" Chest heaving now, he rose to his full height with a sneer. Bile of regret had been at the edge of his throat since the words left his mouth, but it was too late to reel himself in now, he needed the anger. He needed to feel something. This witch was infuriating. He was wrong, and he needed to justify himself. Make it go away.
She remained outwardly nonpulsed, keeping her tone cool as she replied with a blatant lie, "No Professor, because I'm doing the exact. same. thing." She turned to walk away, and all too quickly she was caught with a bruising grip on her elbow.
"How fucking dare, you." He roared. "You... You..."
"Mudblood?!" She screeched, trying and failing to rip herself from his grasp. Primal rage graced his features and for a split second she truly thought he would raise his hand at her.
But he did not.
Cupping her face with both hands, he kissed her. Teeth clashed teeth, tongue lathered tongue, before she knew it she was being pushed back onto the settee, her bum on the arm, her torso flat on the cushin. The angle only made for a more desperate chase. Moving both his hand to her hips, he yanked her harshly, pushing her entire body onto the cushins of the couch, leering over her with his knee roughly pressing in on her apex. A wanton moan left her throat, herself unaware that her hands were desperately seeking purchase on his person.
He bit harshly down on her neck as she started to grind against his knee, silently begging for friction.
"Use your words, Wife." He growled, pushing harder against her clothed cunt. Shaking her head, she snaked her a hand into his hair and pulled with an unforgiving strength, immediately rewarded with a rare, genuine groan.
"God dammit witch!"
"Use," thrust, "your," thrust, "words."
"Please!" She screamed, suddenly all too aware of the familiar heat coiling down her stomach. "Please Severus, Please!"
"Please." Devested, "What?"
"Fuck me!"
No sooner than the words left her mouth, two elegant fingers were entering her wet core, thrusting in and out at a rapid pace/
"I know you're close, wife." He breathed onto the crux on her neck, groaning at the sound her wet quim was rewarding his ministrations with.
"I know you want to come. Give it to me, little wife. Give me your fire hot honey. Cover me in your delicious cream. Give. It. To. Me!" He growled, sucking harshly at the nape of her neck, he felt a warm gush of fluids leave her pulsing cunt. Groaning, he continued pumping in and out of her, not giving her a second to catch her breath, wanting more and more.
"I feel it baby, you're fluttering, tightening, ready to give me more. Give me everything. Do you want me so badly?" A groan as she begins to pulse again. "I know what you need, you need my cock don't you? Acting up, saying those nasty words, starting fights, asking questions you know you don't want the answer to."
She can't breathe, can't speak, can't think. All she can do is whimper in protest as his fingers abruptly leave her pussy as she is clenching down for release. She feels empty for all of two seconds before she is harshly filled with his hot, weeping cock.
"Does it burn baby? I bet it does." He says as he hits home over and over, owning her body in a way he never knew he could. He doesn't even understand the words he is babbling off, but he can't seem to shut himself up as every word is met with a delicious new sound leaving her lips.
"I bet it does," He whispers cruelly at the shell of her ear, continuing his quest, "Doesn't it? Is this what you needed, you greedy little girl? To be reminded that You Belong To ME?" He grips her hips, slamming into her with reckless abandon as she clenches around his cock, positively suffocating him.
"That no one else could ever make you feel the way I do?" He chuckles against her skin. "You can hate me all you want, sweet girl. No one will give you what you need like I do." SHe is so close she can taste her own orgasm on the tip of her tongue.
"Gonna milk me baby? I bet you want that, don't you? Want to be full and leaking so badly. Give me another babe, feel my teeth against your leaking nipples, fucking you senseless into labor all. over again." She squirts again, a barley coherent 'Daddy' leaves her mouth, and suddenly he stills.
She is afraid that she' gone too far, when a hand slides into her unruly curls and pulls until their eyes meet. She doesn't think she has ever seen so much Burning desire in a set of iris's
"What did you say?"
She is no longer afraid as she lets out a soft, "Daddy."
He thrusts again, harshly. She can feel his cock twitch in her cunt as he demands, "Say it again."
"Daddy."
He sets a punishing pace, keeping her still and forcing her to look into his eyes.
"Again." His voice is broken, hoarse, and she can tell he is about to finish.
"Again, Hermione!"
At the rare use of her name during sex, she looks him dead in the eyes waits a beat until she can feel her walls beginning to crumble once more, and begs with a shuttered breath, "Fill me up, Daddy!"
He's done in, bucking into her at an inhuman pace, moans meeting moans as he paints her womb with his spend, a gasped "Hermione!" escapes him before he tightens his hold on her again, face buried in her neck, softening cock still deep within her.
Neither of them speak as they stand and make their way to the freshers. Neither speak, bathing separately, each going through their nightly ablutions alone.
They meet at their shared bed, not a word is said as they get under the linens in the dark. They don't hold each other; they don't speak a word.
Tomorrow, their words will still have been spoken.