Never Did I Answer; Gift for stargirl82!
Recipient: stargirl82
Title: Never Did I Answer
Author: crazyparakiss
Beta:
Pairing/s: Albus Severus/Scorpius
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): Mpreg
Word Count: 1,500
Summary: "Why are you still here?" He’d ask. Never did I answer. I dressed quickly and fled with haste.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction set in the Harry Potter universe - all recognizable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
Author's Notes: I tried to incorporate the Mpreg in for you but I don’t know if I did too great. I hope you enjoy it and I tried for angry-ish sex and I hope it doesn’t disappoint. I enjoyed writing this for you and I hope you enjoy it.
Never Did I Answer
000
It started as an occasional fling. He and I would meet in shadowed corridors and empty classrooms between the hours of curfew and dawn. Our lips would meet, his tongue sweet with the evenings treacle, as our hands scrambled with the ties of our robes. Hot, hard, and needing he would enter me; swallowing my half scream half moan. Of course just because it began that way didn’t mean it stayed confined to those darkened corners. As fires often do it spread. Rapidly it consumed us; following us ruthlessly to our vacant dorms, damp Quidditch pitch, and the mossy floor of the Forbidden Forrest. Our bodies rutted together like filthy savage pigs as sweat dribbled along the flames trying to lick at our desire.
“You’re a whore.” He’d whisper every time against my ear. “Horribly flawed and dirty with my spunk.” As he’d lap up the salty rivers of my body’s want for him, “Do you love the way I fuck you?”
Never did I answer. I only moved faster.
It escalated further, no longer were the shadows our only friends, soon the light of day danced across our skin while we were slick with desire. He called me to the courtyard, ensconced in sweet scented ivy we move together against the rough stone wall. His words of how good I taste and how easy I am echoed in the alcove as his calloused hands danced across my fevered skin. Then came the invitations, openly he’d send his signature owl with meeting spots. As classes carried on like usual we were being randy in the halls, against barren portrait frames, and moaned loudly without silencing charms while Filch meandered near by.
On rare occasions he would lie with me naked, sated, his breaths heavy with flushed cheeks. Idly his hands would trace the hollow of my stomach and I would pretend not to marvel at how ghostly white I truly was compared to him. He would hum as sleep lingered at the edges and from the corner of my eye I’d watch as his face lost all the cruelty I knew. I could almost imagine it was love. Then he would snap back from his near slumber, green eyes deep with disgust as he’d stand eyeing me with a scowl.
“Why are you still here?” He’d ask.
Never did I answer. I dressed quickly and fled with haste.
I began to avoid his letters when I noticed I had changed. There would be flares of anger when he showed attention to other males and females. I began to avoid all my other liaisons in favour of waiting for his call. The week I noticed my infatuation was the week he did not call for me. I waited with bated breath every morning as the owls arrived only to be disappointed when no note came. Every time I experienced that disappointment I felt my heart ache deep within my breast. Yet I knew better than to expect anything from him. I had watched him for years before that after all. I knew his habits and knew that he welcomed all in with calculated glances and snide words. Then he broke them all in due time, but he would drag the torture out make them want him more. He made them believe he could change and before they could see it coming he would crush their hearts. It was beautiful and sinister, and I couldn’t believe I had allowed him to treat me the same way. That was when I stopped answering his call. I avoided him like the plague. From my distance I knew that he was angry, I could feel it roll off of him in waves of hot fury. Yet I still kept far away, I was afraid but was not a fool. He’d hurt me worse if I returned.
Every day he’d send a letter saying, “Why are you avoiding me? I can feel your need connected with mine. You cannot keep from me forever.”
Never did I answer. I choose instead to incinerate the letters with a precise flick of my wand.
Soon after I fell ill, and not just any sort of ill, the kind of ill that kept me confined to the bed for days. My stomach rumbled and spilled its contents anytime I tried to fill it. After the second day I gave up. None came to check on me but as a son of an ex-Death Eater I expected as much. On the fourth day I went to visit the school nurse. Annoying tsks came pouring out her old mouth as she tittered about me with her wand held over my being. I counted the minutes and after fifteen she put away her wand, a frown marred her once pretty face. I assumed that was not a good sign and when she spoke I found my assumptions to be true.
“You are with child.” Her voice quivered slightly as she said so. I almost laughed for all knew it was not possible for a man to bear a child. Yet as she ran the test again and again only to come to the same result I thought it was a cruel divine joke.
My stomach missed the punch line as I stood and once more the contents of my stomach spilled. She eyed me suspiciously, as they all did in those days, and asked, “Have you been taking anything to help you achieve this state?” I adjusted my robes, waved my wand shakily to clean my mess, and then left the room.
Never did I answer. She called for me as I left but I pretended not to hear.
Days passed, then weeks, and before I knew it two more months flew by without my knowing. My lower regions began to protrude. I began to show and stretch marks appeared webbed across my abdomen. The sickness went away but my appetite did not exist. So I spent my breakfasts, lunches, and dinners pushing the contents of my plate around. I glanced up one such meal to see him staring at me. His eyes sinisterly green as they followed my every movement. I avoided it as I had many times before.
When I left the table he followed, when I ran he too ran, and when I hid in a shadowed alcove he found me.
His nails dug into the shallow skin of my shoulders. Breath warm and wet on my face as he spoke, “You’ve been bad.” As always I remained silent as his hands moved along their familiar paths. I should have denied him, but my body betrayed me and arched into his touch. “And I can see you’ve missed me.” Darkly he laughed in the shell of my ear as deftly his fingers parted my robes. As he raked his nails over my bare torso I bared my teeth and dared not look at the angry lines I knew I’d find there. It was when the tips of his fingers touched my grotesque stomach that he paused and moved back gazing at me intently. “What is this?” His tone was almost a hiss and the venom in it scared me but I was pinned beneath him. So I had no way of fending off his hands as they tore away the rest of my clothing. Exposed I dared not watch as he touched my abdomen again gently.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.
Again I did not answer. Then he shook me hard; my head bounced against the stone wall behind me. Fear gripped me once more as his face came closer; with wild eyes he searched me. I felt as if he tried to penetrate my mind. His hands were at my throat and moved up to caress my cheeks before combing through my hair.
Our coupling was his vengeance. He entered with a brutal force I had never known before. I gripped his back with fingers white at the knuckles as my legs wrapped about his waist. He pinned me against the wall as he continued to drive into with a punishing pace. I knew I would be sore and perhaps even bleed. There was nothing remotely pleasing about the experience, and yet I savoured every moment of it. He rained on me sweat, as was usual but also with tears, and whispered words of love.
“I have missed you.” He said in a voice I almost could not hear, “These months without you have been hell.” He laughed darkly and it took me a moment before I realised he had stopped his thrusts, “I used to think you were a filthy product of your father.” His lips caressed my cheek before they tickled across my closed eyelids. “Then I saw you as you pulled away from me and I hated you.” I sucked in a hurt breath and tried to pull away but he held me still, kissed and chewed at my abused bottom lip, “But I realised something.” Those charged verdant eyes held me and worshiped me as they never had before, “I realised that I hate you so passionately that just maybe it parallels love.” His fingers are gentle against my brow, “Would you allow me to hate you so deeply, and perhaps one day return my affections?”
I watched him with guarded eyes and even as hope sprang forth within me; never did I answer.
~Fin~
Title: Never Did I Answer
Author: crazyparakiss
Beta:
Pairing/s: Albus Severus/Scorpius
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): Mpreg
Word Count: 1,500
Summary: "Why are you still here?" He’d ask. Never did I answer. I dressed quickly and fled with haste.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction set in the Harry Potter universe - all recognizable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
Author's Notes: I tried to incorporate the Mpreg in for you but I don’t know if I did too great. I hope you enjoy it and I tried for angry-ish sex and I hope it doesn’t disappoint. I enjoyed writing this for you and I hope you enjoy it.
Never Did I Answer
000
It started as an occasional fling. He and I would meet in shadowed corridors and empty classrooms between the hours of curfew and dawn. Our lips would meet, his tongue sweet with the evenings treacle, as our hands scrambled with the ties of our robes. Hot, hard, and needing he would enter me; swallowing my half scream half moan. Of course just because it began that way didn’t mean it stayed confined to those darkened corners. As fires often do it spread. Rapidly it consumed us; following us ruthlessly to our vacant dorms, damp Quidditch pitch, and the mossy floor of the Forbidden Forrest. Our bodies rutted together like filthy savage pigs as sweat dribbled along the flames trying to lick at our desire.
“You’re a whore.” He’d whisper every time against my ear. “Horribly flawed and dirty with my spunk.” As he’d lap up the salty rivers of my body’s want for him, “Do you love the way I fuck you?”
Never did I answer. I only moved faster.
It escalated further, no longer were the shadows our only friends, soon the light of day danced across our skin while we were slick with desire. He called me to the courtyard, ensconced in sweet scented ivy we move together against the rough stone wall. His words of how good I taste and how easy I am echoed in the alcove as his calloused hands danced across my fevered skin. Then came the invitations, openly he’d send his signature owl with meeting spots. As classes carried on like usual we were being randy in the halls, against barren portrait frames, and moaned loudly without silencing charms while Filch meandered near by.
On rare occasions he would lie with me naked, sated, his breaths heavy with flushed cheeks. Idly his hands would trace the hollow of my stomach and I would pretend not to marvel at how ghostly white I truly was compared to him. He would hum as sleep lingered at the edges and from the corner of my eye I’d watch as his face lost all the cruelty I knew. I could almost imagine it was love. Then he would snap back from his near slumber, green eyes deep with disgust as he’d stand eyeing me with a scowl.
“Why are you still here?” He’d ask.
Never did I answer. I dressed quickly and fled with haste.
I began to avoid his letters when I noticed I had changed. There would be flares of anger when he showed attention to other males and females. I began to avoid all my other liaisons in favour of waiting for his call. The week I noticed my infatuation was the week he did not call for me. I waited with bated breath every morning as the owls arrived only to be disappointed when no note came. Every time I experienced that disappointment I felt my heart ache deep within my breast. Yet I knew better than to expect anything from him. I had watched him for years before that after all. I knew his habits and knew that he welcomed all in with calculated glances and snide words. Then he broke them all in due time, but he would drag the torture out make them want him more. He made them believe he could change and before they could see it coming he would crush their hearts. It was beautiful and sinister, and I couldn’t believe I had allowed him to treat me the same way. That was when I stopped answering his call. I avoided him like the plague. From my distance I knew that he was angry, I could feel it roll off of him in waves of hot fury. Yet I still kept far away, I was afraid but was not a fool. He’d hurt me worse if I returned.
Every day he’d send a letter saying, “Why are you avoiding me? I can feel your need connected with mine. You cannot keep from me forever.”
Never did I answer. I choose instead to incinerate the letters with a precise flick of my wand.
Soon after I fell ill, and not just any sort of ill, the kind of ill that kept me confined to the bed for days. My stomach rumbled and spilled its contents anytime I tried to fill it. After the second day I gave up. None came to check on me but as a son of an ex-Death Eater I expected as much. On the fourth day I went to visit the school nurse. Annoying tsks came pouring out her old mouth as she tittered about me with her wand held over my being. I counted the minutes and after fifteen she put away her wand, a frown marred her once pretty face. I assumed that was not a good sign and when she spoke I found my assumptions to be true.
“You are with child.” Her voice quivered slightly as she said so. I almost laughed for all knew it was not possible for a man to bear a child. Yet as she ran the test again and again only to come to the same result I thought it was a cruel divine joke.
My stomach missed the punch line as I stood and once more the contents of my stomach spilled. She eyed me suspiciously, as they all did in those days, and asked, “Have you been taking anything to help you achieve this state?” I adjusted my robes, waved my wand shakily to clean my mess, and then left the room.
Never did I answer. She called for me as I left but I pretended not to hear.
Days passed, then weeks, and before I knew it two more months flew by without my knowing. My lower regions began to protrude. I began to show and stretch marks appeared webbed across my abdomen. The sickness went away but my appetite did not exist. So I spent my breakfasts, lunches, and dinners pushing the contents of my plate around. I glanced up one such meal to see him staring at me. His eyes sinisterly green as they followed my every movement. I avoided it as I had many times before.
When I left the table he followed, when I ran he too ran, and when I hid in a shadowed alcove he found me.
His nails dug into the shallow skin of my shoulders. Breath warm and wet on my face as he spoke, “You’ve been bad.” As always I remained silent as his hands moved along their familiar paths. I should have denied him, but my body betrayed me and arched into his touch. “And I can see you’ve missed me.” Darkly he laughed in the shell of my ear as deftly his fingers parted my robes. As he raked his nails over my bare torso I bared my teeth and dared not look at the angry lines I knew I’d find there. It was when the tips of his fingers touched my grotesque stomach that he paused and moved back gazing at me intently. “What is this?” His tone was almost a hiss and the venom in it scared me but I was pinned beneath him. So I had no way of fending off his hands as they tore away the rest of my clothing. Exposed I dared not watch as he touched my abdomen again gently.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.
Again I did not answer. Then he shook me hard; my head bounced against the stone wall behind me. Fear gripped me once more as his face came closer; with wild eyes he searched me. I felt as if he tried to penetrate my mind. His hands were at my throat and moved up to caress my cheeks before combing through my hair.
Our coupling was his vengeance. He entered with a brutal force I had never known before. I gripped his back with fingers white at the knuckles as my legs wrapped about his waist. He pinned me against the wall as he continued to drive into with a punishing pace. I knew I would be sore and perhaps even bleed. There was nothing remotely pleasing about the experience, and yet I savoured every moment of it. He rained on me sweat, as was usual but also with tears, and whispered words of love.
“I have missed you.” He said in a voice I almost could not hear, “These months without you have been hell.” He laughed darkly and it took me a moment before I realised he had stopped his thrusts, “I used to think you were a filthy product of your father.” His lips caressed my cheek before they tickled across my closed eyelids. “Then I saw you as you pulled away from me and I hated you.” I sucked in a hurt breath and tried to pull away but he held me still, kissed and chewed at my abused bottom lip, “But I realised something.” Those charged verdant eyes held me and worshiped me as they never had before, “I realised that I hate you so passionately that just maybe it parallels love.” His fingers are gentle against my brow, “Would you allow me to hate you so deeply, and perhaps one day return my affections?”
I watched him with guarded eyes and even as hope sprang forth within me; never did I answer.
~Fin~