iwantyouineedyou
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,223
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,223
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
iwantyouineedyou
Disclaimer: I never have owned, I never will own, any of these characters -- for which I\'m sure JK Rowling is very grateful.
A/N: I don\'t feel like I can give any warnings because it would ruin the story if I told you what it was about before you read it. It\'s definitely on the weird side, at least I think so. I hope it doesn\'t offend anyone. Like I said, it just sort of wrote itself out.
iwantyouineedyou
She looked at him, red hair glistening gold in the sunlight, freckles splashed across his cheeks. He had his head thrown back in raucous laughter, a loud guffaw that echoed throughout the spacious yard.
He was playing with the little ones gathered – throwing them up into the air and catching them just before they hit the ground. A smile spread across her own face. He had always been beautiful to her. He had always been the picture of perfection.
The seduction was something that had gone so wrong. There had been misunderstandings, hushed whisperings that were taken entirely wrong, meant for someone else. Still, years later, her womb grew soft and pliant at the sight of him. Her limbs felt as though a molten liquid was seeping through her veins rather than the blood found there. He had been big about the whole thing, never told anyone. Especially not their mutual best friend – Harry must never know.
Harry, the man she had married. A part of her loved him, cherished him. But not in the way she loved the brawny man across from her now. He had stolen her heart almost the minute she arrived at her second year atHogwart’s, seeing him in a whole new light. With Harry, she had security, loyalty, celebrity by association, and of course, beautiful children. What she longed for was passion, lust, all-consuming desire. It was Harry she had settled for, but it was _him_ that she imagined when Harry, her husband, was pounding away at her, whispering what she imagined were supposed to be sweet nothings into her ear.
Perhaps enough time had passed since the last time she had approached him. Perhaps this time, he would have her. He was married now, to a beautiful witch. The woman he married had never been a friend to them, not in her eyes at least. His wife was an insipid wench. She did not think the other woman beautiful. He could easily be drawn from her. His wife was a hanger-on, she had latched on to the coattails of their celebrity and was still reaping the benefits, but that would stop. She would approach him after lunch.
And she did. Glancing in a window at herself to make sure she looked just right, she stalked him until she found the minute they could be alone.
“Ron…”
He smiled at her, that was good.
“I know you said we couldn’t, but I love you. I want you. I need you. Why can’t you just let this thing happen? We were
meant to be together, Ron. Just face it.”
She tentatively wrapped her arms around his neck in an effort to pull him into a kiss.
The look on his face changed from that of relative happiness to one of unease and anger.
He jerked her arms from around his neck and shoved her away from him, disgusted at the sight of her.
“For the last time, we cannot be together like that. God, I’m married to Hermione. Besides, for the love of Merlin, you’re my sister. It\'s revolting, I only hope Harry never finds out.”
And he walked away just as he had every single time she had mentioned it since her thirteenth birthday when he\'d asked what she wished for. She knew that the feelings she felt for her brother were anything but familial -- they were not something to be pushed aside.
Plastering a smile to her face, she went back to the group and picked up the conversation she had been having with her sister-in-law, Hermione, and slipped back into the façade that had become and would remain the essence of her existence. But in the back of her mind, there was always the hope that next time, he would change his mind. Next time, Ron would not tell her no. And until the day he gave in to her, there would _always_ be a next time.
A/N: I don\'t feel like I can give any warnings because it would ruin the story if I told you what it was about before you read it. It\'s definitely on the weird side, at least I think so. I hope it doesn\'t offend anyone. Like I said, it just sort of wrote itself out.
iwantyouineedyou
She looked at him, red hair glistening gold in the sunlight, freckles splashed across his cheeks. He had his head thrown back in raucous laughter, a loud guffaw that echoed throughout the spacious yard.
He was playing with the little ones gathered – throwing them up into the air and catching them just before they hit the ground. A smile spread across her own face. He had always been beautiful to her. He had always been the picture of perfection.
The seduction was something that had gone so wrong. There had been misunderstandings, hushed whisperings that were taken entirely wrong, meant for someone else. Still, years later, her womb grew soft and pliant at the sight of him. Her limbs felt as though a molten liquid was seeping through her veins rather than the blood found there. He had been big about the whole thing, never told anyone. Especially not their mutual best friend – Harry must never know.
Harry, the man she had married. A part of her loved him, cherished him. But not in the way she loved the brawny man across from her now. He had stolen her heart almost the minute she arrived at her second year atHogwart’s, seeing him in a whole new light. With Harry, she had security, loyalty, celebrity by association, and of course, beautiful children. What she longed for was passion, lust, all-consuming desire. It was Harry she had settled for, but it was _him_ that she imagined when Harry, her husband, was pounding away at her, whispering what she imagined were supposed to be sweet nothings into her ear.
Perhaps enough time had passed since the last time she had approached him. Perhaps this time, he would have her. He was married now, to a beautiful witch. The woman he married had never been a friend to them, not in her eyes at least. His wife was an insipid wench. She did not think the other woman beautiful. He could easily be drawn from her. His wife was a hanger-on, she had latched on to the coattails of their celebrity and was still reaping the benefits, but that would stop. She would approach him after lunch.
And she did. Glancing in a window at herself to make sure she looked just right, she stalked him until she found the minute they could be alone.
“Ron…”
He smiled at her, that was good.
“I know you said we couldn’t, but I love you. I want you. I need you. Why can’t you just let this thing happen? We were
meant to be together, Ron. Just face it.”
She tentatively wrapped her arms around his neck in an effort to pull him into a kiss.
The look on his face changed from that of relative happiness to one of unease and anger.
He jerked her arms from around his neck and shoved her away from him, disgusted at the sight of her.
“For the last time, we cannot be together like that. God, I’m married to Hermione. Besides, for the love of Merlin, you’re my sister. It\'s revolting, I only hope Harry never finds out.”
And he walked away just as he had every single time she had mentioned it since her thirteenth birthday when he\'d asked what she wished for. She knew that the feelings she felt for her brother were anything but familial -- they were not something to be pushed aside.
Plastering a smile to her face, she went back to the group and picked up the conversation she had been having with her sister-in-law, Hermione, and slipped back into the façade that had become and would remain the essence of her existence. But in the back of her mind, there was always the hope that next time, he would change his mind. Next time, Ron would not tell her no. And until the day he gave in to her, there would _always_ be a next time.