Listen to Billie Eilish - My Boy while reading this fic for greater experience. I promise.
To my lil Bebster, if you're reading this, stop reading. This is not safe for your underage eyes.
Enormous love to my beloved midnightweeds for helping me fixing my sorry attempt at smut (which now is beautiful thanks to you)! Love you, Weeds!
.
ーYou want me to be yours well then you gotta be mineー
.
Pansy kissed him fiercely, full with lust and thirst. Like he was what the muggles had been searching for all these years: The Fountain of Youth. Her long, black nails scraped his back as she moved to sit on his lap, leaving marks on the perfect porcelain of his skin.
"Pansyー"
She cut him off by drawing her nails down his chest, shifting to straddle his lap. The heat of her caused him to moan, and she rewarded him by biting his lip, soothing the action with her tongue.
"Please, I want to touch you," he begged.
Pansy let go of his lips and leaned back to tighten the knot of his hands to the headboard of her new four-pastors bed. Both his hands now dangled above his head, his wrists bound together with a black leather strap.
He growled at the pain of straining against his binds mixing with the feeling of grinding against his cock, his desire driving him to beg for mercy. He wanted her; wanted to feel her pale skin beneath his fingers, to taste her cunt against his tongue, to fuck her mercilessly.
But, Pansy never played soft. She would never give him mercy. Pansy would only do what she wanted to do, when she wanted to do it. She was opulent, the maker and keeper of his world, never bowing to his needs, or anyone else's, never bowed down to anything lower than her blood, never stopped wanting more. She was enticing, even the slightest hint of her gaze was enough to make his pulses, his blood, his nerves, his whole body electrified with arousal, and it was killing him; a death he wouldn't mind being sentenced to.
"My boyー" she whispered. He could feel her lips grazing his ear and he let out a hiss as she bit his earlobe, shivering as the warm blood dripped onto his shoulder. It felt good.
He wanted more.
"ーWhere's your best friend? The black-haired boy?"
Her tongue trailed the blood, and she made a show of swallowing it, her dark, lust-filled eyes locked on his. He groaned and jerked his head towards her, desperate to taste his blood from her mouth. But, she pulled away, distracting him by gripping the fill weight of her breast in her hand. His gaze followed the action. He swore but his eyes never strayed off her, captivated by her every moves. She tilted his chin up with her finger and urged him to answer her question.
"Iー I cut him off, I chopped him up and burned him to ash. Just for you. Just how you wanted."
"Nobody knows?"
"No one knows." He paused, begging her with his eyes to give him more. "They might have suspected but they dismissed it as quick as his death, no one would ever thought an awkward quiet man could do that to his best friend."
She rolled her hips against his cock, offering him a bit of pleasure in reward. His thoughts went hazy, his mind had gone haywire, his body in perfect submission. The feel of her cunt over him, hot and wet even through the fabric of his boxers, left him thanking Merlin. The hard length of her nipples brushed his chest as she continued to tease him, and he lost control; wrists straining desperately, hips jerking into her centre.
And, ーMorgana help himー she moaned. The sound as slow and sensual as honey.
Divine.
"Oh, my boy. My naughty boy," she moaned, angling her hips to rub her clit against his cock. "Tell me,ー" she let out a loud moan, "ーdo you still love me? Like you promised?"
He looked at her, eyes heavy and full with desire.
Pansy stopped moving. Her eyes met his as she waited for an answer, and he realized... He couldn't form a sentence, couldn't even manage to get a word out, so he nodded.
He wanted to tell her: no.
No.
He didn't love her like he promised her.
He loved her more than that; so much more. He loved her so much that he'd lied to his family. That he'd killed. That he would die.
He'd do it all for her.
"Merlin," he groaned when she bent her head to bite his nipple, sucking and licking his skin as she moved back up his body.
"Merlin? Oh, my pure boy. You never cuss." She raised her head and chuckled at his annoyed face.
"I cuss! I say 'filthy mudblood' all the time!" He growled.
"Oh, sure you did. Just like your father."
She continued with her attentions over his pulse. On impulse, he jolted his hips up to her again, trying to reach her clit, his salvation.
"I lied to my father, to my mother. I told them I changed. That I stopped meeting you." He thrust harder, the wet fabric of his boxers adding to action. He watched as her eyes rolled back that all he could see now was white.
She moaned in pleasure.
"They went mental, you know? When I told them I wanted you. No one but you. They told me you are too old for me. Told me what a cunning person you are. That you only wanted the family's power. Our influence.
"But I know you. I know you better than they do. And I'm in love with you. Merlin knows. I love you so much, Pansy."
She moaned louder, her breath shorter and faster. She was so close now, her mind heavy and hazy. She was so sure she could have passed out anytime soon.
He kept his eyes on her. His own goddess. With full breasts and flushed skin. With hands that consumed him. A mouth that breathed life into his soul. She was his.
His.
She was so close yet so out of his reach and it frustrated him more than anything. He clenched his fists, trying his all might to wrench them off the knot. He gritted his teeth, growling and groaning but his eyes never wavered from his deity, ignoring the loud grunt from across their bed.
"So, I lied to them. I'm not the honest person I was, anymore. I cried in front of them, admitted I was wrong and begged for forgiveness. I've told them I'd change so they would stop talking about you. But it was all a lie. For you.
"Gods, I wish I'd shut him up back then. I couldn't stand it when they kept degrading you. So, I stabbed his wife.
"Oh, Pansy, I stabbed her right thereー" he jerked his head pointedly to her stomach "ーand dragged the knife up her chest, to her throat."
He rubbed harder, against her clit, and it had the desired effect. She moaned his name and it was nearly enough for him to come undone.
"Scorpius!"
The couple froze and turned toward the voice.
"Draco! You're still alive!" Pansy giggled at the state of her ex-fiancée, lying broken on the floor his room.
"Pansy, you bitch," he coughed his blood out. The action clearly has taken its toll on him. Yet he continued. "Let my son go."
Draco tried to get up but his wound wouldn't let him. Scorpius had stabbed his stomach more than once, how fetching, Draco mused. A pureblood killed by some muggle method. He was heavily bleeding. He sprawled on a pool of his own blood on the floor of his own bedroom, tainting his proud Malfoy's platinum blonde hair and his pale skin.
"Son, leave her. Don't listen to her. Go get your mother andー"
Pansy's laughter echoed the big master bedroom of Malfoy's mansion. "Astoria? That woman stole you from me! Now she got what she deserved! Didn't she, Scorpius?"
Scorpius nodded, his eyes still locked on the woman on top of him as he said, "you and mother should have listened to me. Trusted me. I love Pansy, I wantedー" he shook his head, trying to push his desire momentarily so he could say what he wanted to say with conviction. He caught Pansy's eyes before he spoke. "She will be my wife."
He looked down at his father through his hooded eyes.
"You should have listened. You should have seen her. Her brillianceー" he returned his gaze to Pansy. "ーher beauty," Pansy's lips ghosting on his, "ーand her passion." Pansy rewarded his undying love by kissing him hard and it was liberating, it was incredible, to hear he his love moaned his name. His. Name.
His.
His Haven was intruded by a loud coughing of his father. "Son, listen to meー"
"You've both gotten what you deserve!" Scorpius cut him off.
"Both? Son, what did you do?" Draco voice was muffled with his sobs and his blood. His eyes were darting around his bedroom, looking for his wife.
"You can see her from the door, Drake," Pansy sang as she jumped off the bed and opened the large bedroom door.
Draco's face turned white. He saw her, Astoria, in the reading room right across the hallway, hanging upside down.
"No!" he wailed, dragging his body with his weakened arms towards the door. "You murderer! You murdered your mother! Your own flesh!"
Draco's blood gushed out of his wounds from his screaming. He stopped moving and turned his head back to where he was laid. He didn't make much progress. He was too damaged. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he saw red pool, trying to ignore the lightheaded he was feeling from blood loss. "Scorpius. My son. You are a Malfoy, the last of great lines. You deserve more. You deserveー"
Scorpius looked at his father in disgust.
"She lied, son. You've been taken advantage of. Please, Scorp. My son, my boy." Draco dragged himself closer to them.
Pansy laughed hysterically as she purposely walked past his mangled body to the bed; to Scorpius. She straddled and leaned into her lover, lips against his ear.
"Scorp," she mocked in whisper, "my boy," she looked at Draco,ーshowing him how his words of affection had done nothingー and continued her sickly sweet whisper, "I can't wait to be with you, Scorp. To wake up to you every morning. To make love to you. To be your wife."
Scorpius turned to face her. Their nose brushed. He could feel her soft breathing as she placed her forehead onto his.
"But," she sighed and pulled away.
"Your father, like your mother, doesn't want us to be happy. Doesn't want you to be happy."
Draco watched his son sadly, wondering where did he'd went wrong. What did he'd missed. He looked at his wife and cried. They were happy, and nowーhe screwed his eyes, memories of young Scorpius in Astoria's arms flashing in his mind. He could feel his life drifting away.
"What should we do, my boy?"
Pansy sultry voice woke him up. No. He would not give up on his son. Draco opened his eyes slowly and the first thing he saw was Pansy looking down at him, grinning as she spoke to his son.
"My sweet boy," she grinned wider, "tell me," she kissed Scorpius cheek, "show me."
She untied the knots on his hand and moved aside. Finally, granting his freedom.
He didn't look at his father. He looked only to Pansy, grey eyes drinking in every inch of her. His hands ached, nearly more than his cock, and he reached for herーfingers gripping her waist as he pulled her to straddle him. He cupped both of her breasts and his lips found her nipples and sucked the pink tip of one into his mouth. Sucking and biting them and gods she was everything he ever imagined and more. Her skin were glistening, sticky from the heat of their intense lust. The sweet sweat of her skin tasted like heaven on his tongue, encouraging him. Distracting him.
He heard his father but couldn't make out the words.
Pansy was perfection, hot and willing and waiting for him. His fingers smoothed down her torso, finding the wet center of her, and Scorpius saw red.
"What are we going to do?" She asked again, the cool tips of her fingers brushing the white of his forearm. She stopped once she twined her fingers with his and slowly pushed them in.
The sounds she made now was louder, more lecherous, more erotic, more lewd, more sensualーHe gasped at her softness.
He pumped his fingers, eyes watching in fascination as they came way lustrous in her. He glanced up to see her eyes closed and felt powerful.
Endless.
"Kill him," he murmured, pumping as fast and deep as he could. The heat burned his skin, tugged at his cock.
He had to kill his father. He needed this forever.
Her moans warmed him, encouraged him on. He pinched her clit with his other hand, her desperate cries causing him to grin.
Scorpius looked at his father to see that his eyes were closed, face drawn with hurt, and the young blonde realized that he needed Pansy. That he needed to posses her. To fuck her. To show her what she did to himーand he could now. No one could stop him if he justー
Scorpius eyes widened as realization came to him. He pushed Pansy away gently, bringing one hand to his mouth as other searched frantically beneath the duvet, under the pillows, until he finally found it: his wand.
Scorpius grinned triumphantly, eyes lifting to his lover's.
He drawn the tip of his wand to her body, drawing it slowly from her neck to the valley between her breasts and down to her clit.
Pansy moved closer to himーwrapping her arms around his neck, body writhing against his as she kisses his mouth and hair and neck and chestーand she cried his name as she rubbed her clit on his wand.
"Scorpius," Draco tried again, his voice weak and empty and dead on his son's ears.
Scorpius looked at his father, grinning wickedly. He locked his eyes on his as he said, "let me fuck you, Pansy."
His arm snaked around her waist then he lifted his hips into hers. He turned his gaze back to his Goddess, and repeated, "let me fuck you."
Pansy's studied his face with her half-lidded eyes. He was pale. Grey eyes and pale. She touched Scorpius's cheek softly, caressing his sharp jawline; just like his father's. Just like her Draco's.
Hers.
Scorpius' plea stole her attention back.
"Pansy," he breathed. "I want to fuck you. Let me fuck you. Let me taste your cum on my tongue, feels your cunt around my cock. Let me taste us on your lips. Please Pansy, I need it."
She kissed his jaw lovingly and said, "oh, my boy. My little star boy."
Scorpius moved his wand, stroking her clit and looked at his father as she moaned.
"That's right," he muttered. Seeing Draco's disturbed face reminded him that his father was once her fiance. He looked at Pansy's alluring curves and his plea instantly changed to demand. "Let. Me. Fuck. You."
He spun his head towards his father, his grey eyes darkened with hate. He hated the fact that his father had seen her like this, the fact that she had moaned his name like she moaned his, the fact that he fucked her before he could.
But now he would.
Scorpius cupped her face with his hand,ーhis other hand tightened around his wand, still stroking her glistening clitーstaring her dead in the eyes as he drawled, "like my father did. Better than my father did. Over and over again. Forever, Pans."
Pansy screamed his name as she cum on him; on his wand. And it was the most beautiful picture he'd ever seen. He did this to her. He made her screamed his name. He did this.
He craved for more.
With his eyes still on hers, he licked her cum off his wand and flicked it, vanishing his boxer. But Pansy's delicate hand stopped him.
"Someone's watching us, my boy." She turned her face to look at Draco, and Scorpius watched her profile as she smiled at his dying father.
He turned to look at Draco, wand still tight in his fist, and Pansy's hand seemed to burn where she touched his hip, reminding him that they still couldn't be together. Not until they were dead.
You have to mean it, Scorp," she whispered.
Draco could only looked away, collapsing himself into himself at nearly the same moment Scorpius grinned cruelly.
Eagerness and satisfaction flooded him, straining. His cock twitched desperately.
"Avada Kedavra."
"It's devastating what happened to Albus," Hermione whispered to her husband as they watch the burial of Albus Potter's rich mahogany coffin.
"I'm just grateful that it wasn't Rose or Hugo, love," Ron whispered back, tightening his hold on her waist as if someone would take her away from him.
"It's about to rain. Go and talk to Ginny, 'Mione. She needs a friend now more than ever. I'll get the kids." He kissed her and left to find their children. Hermione watched as he gathered their children, reminding herself that they were young adults now. As they joined the rest of the other Weasley clan, she let go of the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, assured of their safety. She quickly made her way to Ginny, the detailed leaked to the Prophet flooding her mind.
Ginny wasn't crying. She just stood there beside her son's grave, dead blank as she stared at the tombstone.
Hermione sealed herself and touched her friend's shoulder, arms quickly enveloping her when Ginny instantly broke down. Ginny wailed, crying her son's name as she clung to Hermione.
"He was just a boy. My boy. Why did they take him from me? Why?!
"Albus! Albus, come back to mummy! Come back! Albus!"
Hermione found her husband's blue eyes their shared solidarity strengthening her. They couldn't let this happen again. To anyone.
It'd been four days since they discovered Albus missing, two since the severed arm of their son was owled to Grimmauld. Ron had led the investigation in Harry's understandable wake, and they'd found what was left of him in Knockturn Alley, a chalice of ash with his family ring on the bottom, charmed only for discovery by a family member. It'd been sickening. And the Aurors had no leads.
Albus had only been nineteen, young and loved by all who knew him. Wizard England wept at the loss of him, but no one more than his mother.
Their boy was gone, and there was no one to take the blame.
Three days after Albus' burial, the wizarding world once again shaken with the discovery of another murder, the patriarch and matriarch of House of Malfoy. Aurors suspected that the killer had been after Scorpius, dear friend to Albus, but he'd been away on holiday, leaving his parents alone in the Manor. Mrs. Malfoy had been found hung upside down, her innards had been gutted out, and the Prophet confirmed that she'd been alive through it all. Mr. Malfoy had been found on his bedroom's floor, stabbed to death, with his own genitalia in his mouth.
There was speculation of a connection between the murders, which was neither confirmed nor denied. There was suggestion of being connected to reports of a rising Dark Lady. But, the truth was that no one knew.
They were afraid. And the photo of Scorpius Malfoy crying in the arms of the Parkinson woman stayed with Prophet readers for months after. No one questioned the older woman's presence, they were just happy he still had someone he could lean in on in his life.
And when the Potters and the Weasleys received a wedding invitation from Scorpius and Pansy, just two months after Draco's and Astoria's death, they accepted it with relief that Albus' best friend could at least found his happiness amidst the cruel tragedy upon them. No one considered that Pansy, long ago rumored to have been devastated at the announcement of Astoria and Draco's engagement, could have been behind it. And she became Mrs. Malfoy with no one to contest her claim.
Two years later, after a celebration of the life of Albus Potter and birth of a new baby Malfoy, the Ministry and Auror's Department, led by Harry Potter, came to a conclusion that both Albus' and the Malfoys' case were inter-connected and there were just a case of vengeance; Albus, being the son of the Chosen One and the Malfoys, being one of the biggest supporter of the Chosen One right after the great second war ended.
Case closed.
A/N: hullo this is my first attempt on writing smut and this idea came when I was listening to Billie Eilish and My Boy just struck me. The song itself screamed Pansy Parkinson, the attitude and just the music so.. Pansy.
To me Pansy is someone with great ambition, cunning and sly and just full with sass. So her being someone in control, hell yeah that's Pansy alright! The song was obviously about her ex-boyfriend but I tweaked it to as if Pansy was singing her compliments to her lover, Scorpius.
Pansy is one badass cunning witch and we love us some Pansy.