title: Life
Beta/secondary: Bell Witch
pairing: Severus Snape/ Harry Potter
WARNINGS: violence, rape, language, mpreg,
disclaimer: I do not in anyway or fashion own HP or anything
else. I'm making no money from this.
He is drunk again; I smell it on his breath. He grabs me, shoving me down on the table. Where I connect with the wood, pain shoots through me. I’ve hit the bruises that are mementos of our last encounter. I hear tearing as he pulls my robes open, exposing me. He holds my hips, and forces his cock inside my unprepared hole. With every thrust, he is farther in and I feel like he’s ripping me apart. Through the pain, I can feel my blood leaking down from my ass and over the backs of my legs. I hold onto the table for dear life and I know he’s almost there--I can tell because his thrusts get faster, harder, and rougher. My whole body aches, and my hole is sore as hell. He shoves with more force and, with one last thrust inside me, he comes. His semen mixes with my blood. I nearly black out, but life is not that merciful; not to Severus Snape.
I hope one day to be lucky and just lie here unconscious, without pain. But when was life ever that good to me?
Not now. Not ever.
Sometimes, he does black out, and his dead weight presses me flat. Sometimes, he’ll shove me out of the bed or off of whatever surface he’s used me on, and leaves me alone with my pain. That’s the better of the two, if you ask me. He’s left me alone now, I can hear when he leaves the room. I sink down to the floor.
The cool stone helps soothe my aching backside. I look down my body, my heavily pregnant body. I’m six months along with a boy. My beautiful little boy. A single tear runs down my cheek, but I won’t cry.
Not now. Not ever.
I just sit here with my hand on my bell until a faint sound catches my ear. A baby is crying. My baby is crying.
I get up as quickly as I’m able, needing to get to the crying child before his father notices him.
When I get to his room, my breath stops in my throat. He is there, standing above my son, looking down at him with unreadable eyes. I run to the crib, and take my child in my arms. He calms slowly, and soon falls asleep.
I can feel other eyes on my neck and, as he steps closer, breath. An arm grabs my hips, pulling me closer to his body. The other strolls up and down my swollen belly almost lovingly. I can feel the stirrings of his erection pressing into my ass. He whispers into my ear, turning my blood cold.
“Come, love, to bed.”
My body numbs, but my eyes rest for a moment upon my baby boy’s sleeping face. I rock him one more time before I return him to his crib with a sad smile upon my face.
Yes, Harry, I come.