Prompt: Addicted. Pairing: Draco/Pansy and Draco/Astoria. Summary: She hates herself a little bit more every time.
She hates herself a little bit more every time.
His fingers press indentations into her hips, leave bruises on her skin, and she craves his rough, unbridled lust, as much as he craves her curves. He wants her for her body; for the curvy hips and voluptuous breasts and her peaches and cream skin, her dark hair and dark eyes and painted smirk. He wants her for the simple fact that she is the complete opposite of the Greengrass girl he's shackled to.
Pansy likes to tell herself that he loves her, not that slut, but she knows it's a lie. It tastes bitter in the back of her throat, like bile.
Pansy is round in places Greengrass is rail-thin. Harsh where she is gentle, hard where she is soft. Pansy knows Draco does not want her for the happily ever after, but that he wants her for the sweet rush of adrenaline he gets from her, from fucking someone who isn't his wife.
Something about routine makes men like Draco wild—something about chaining them to one life their entire life makes men like Draco a little crazy, a little hungry, a little rebellious.
And, for all that Pansy knows it is so wrong on so many levels, she is addicted to him. Draco is her fix, and she needs him just as surely as she needs the air.
She hates herself for falling for Draco time and again, and she hates herself for not caring.
It is always the same. Pansy stands still on the corner, wrapped in a cloak, standing half in shadow, trying to avoid eye-contact with anyone and then Draco is suddenly there and Pansy, where she had been hard and tense before, relaxes, throwing herself into his arms.
She relaxes and an easy smirk steals across her face and anyone could mistake them for two casual lovers, spending the afternoon together, but Pansy touches his cheek and he jerks away, tugging her arm hard, and pulling her down the street to the small inn they frequent.
It's always the same.
He pays for the room, and then drags her into it, jerking at his robes. Once the door is shut, he jerks at her robes and then pins her to the bed.
It feels good. Pansy is anything but delicate and she would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it.
But.
Sometimes she wants gentle and loving where Draco is always hard and fast and furious and bruising. The bruises last for days, but they don't bother Pansy. She is not china and lace; she does not break easily. She just wants a little romance sometimes.
Once, just once, she wishes Draco would be the Draco he was at Hogwarts. And he was hardly all butterflies and sunshine and daisies there, but he did do little things for her. Hold doors. Pour her tea, fix it the way she liked it. Casual touches, the lending of a cloak when it's chilly outside. Draco was raised a gentleman, for all that he was a spoiled brat. Malfoys were arrogant, but they weren't rude to their women.
But that was the problem, then. That Pansy wasn't Draco's woman. That honor went to the Greengrass girl, not Pansy, never Pansy. She was the Other Woman, and this released Draco from all the niceties and expectations of his relationship with Astoria.
She'd be lying if she said that Draco's attachment to her was anything more than a middle-aged crisis, a release. Draco wanted her for reasons she didn't want to be wanted. Where Pansy desired romance, Draco saw only his release, and that was the true tragedy.
That Pansy would belong to Draco so wholly and completely, that she would come when called—in this lay the crux of her addiction.
(Sometimes, after Draco had left, wiping the lipstick off of his face and tugging his robes straight, after he'd sneered down at her, after he'd set a time for their next meeting, after the ache and the cold set it, sometimes Pansy would imagine she and Astoria's roles were reversed. That she, Pansy, was the fine woman on Draco's arm, that she gave him everything Astoria did not. But the war has broken more than just the heroes, and here she is.)
Addicted, and she hates herself a little bit more every time.
Your thoughts and feedback are, as always, so so so appreciated.
