Eyes So Wide by KOKO
"So, either of you going to explain what all of that was? Lestrange? Nott?" Avery asks as they sit down at a bar after the party. Mulciber is busy tending to his wife, who had enjoyed the celebrations a bit too much. Rosier had declined their invitation in favoring of going home with Cassandra, and Tom had left shortly thereafter with barely a word.
"All I'll say is Mulciber should clean his dinning chairs," Nott snickers.
"He should probably do the couch in the lounge first," Lestrange snipes.
"Seriously?" Nott asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "Cain must have a death wish."
"It's a miracle he's not dead already," Avery chimes in, signaling the waiter for a bottle of firewhisky and three glasses. "We all know what happens to people who mess with Tom Riddle's things."
"She's keeping them both very much in line, isn't she? They were playing so nicely with each other after they all came back," Nott drawls, rolling his eyes. "That prat didn't even get a nice little curse for hitting me."
"You deserved it. In the future, don't be a prick, Nott," Lestrange scolds. "I know you have about a dozen girlfriends at any given time, but he only has the one."
"I didn't tell him to date the one woman he definitely shouldn't be touching, did I Lestrange? Even I have never been that driven by my cock."
"And I definitely told him not to, but here we fucking are, aren't we?" Lestrange snarls. "No one wants to be in this situation. Don't make it worse. Cain is not some random bloke off the street who pissed Tom off. He's one of us. He's our friend. In the future, whatever we can do to take his side - to make this easier for him - we do."
"I'll tell you how to make it easier for him. Tell him to leave her the fuck alone."
"I'm going to have to agree with Nott here. It's the best possible outcome."
"You both know how he feels about her. Is it ill advised? Hell yes. Doesn't matter apparently because he's not giving up."
"Mate, if Tom wants her he's going to get her," Nott counters. "I'm not getting in the middle of that, and I would recommend neither of you do. Besides, it's about time the golden boy got knocked down a peg."
"As I said, don't be a prick. I'm not asking you two to risk your own safety. I'm just asking you not to actively make this worse for Cain by talking or laughing about it. And, if you can, to occupy Tom's time and attention at events so that there's less of an opportunity for conflict."
"Fine, Lestrange. I'll try," Avery says, still looking not too sure about this decision. "You're right, he doesn't deserve this."
"Honestly, I think Tom should have her," Nott replies with a shrug. "Cain's not cut out for her, I can tell."
"Nobody asked for your opinion on that matter," Lestrange grumbles. "Unless you want Cain to do something worse to you next time, I'd suggest you agree to my proposal."
"Does that bitch really think she can just fuck her way into being one of us?" Fawley snarls, a glass of wine tilting dangerously in her hand as she collapses onto a chair in the sitting room of Grimmauld Place.
"Not can, has," Snyde remarks as she takes her own seat. "Who counted the amount of time at least one of them was actually not touching her the whole day?"
"Not counting the duel? It's a rounding error to zero," Greengrass answers, taking a sip of her own wine.
Selwyn speaks up, trying to take the conversation in a different direction by saying, "We should invite her to our teas."
Greengrass laughs, "Are you insane? I am not spending time with that - "
"Whatever awful things you think about her, it's clear Tom doesn't. And, to be clear, neither do I. It would be wise - "
"No, it's clear he thinks exactly what I do about her. That she doesn't care one iota about Rosier and is going to break his heart again without a second thought."
"Since when were you my brother's keeper, Greengrass?" Druella asks snidely, joining them after finally being able to put the baby down. She had been in no physical condition to attend the day's events, but she was still eager to hear about them.
"You didn't see them together, Ella!"
"I have before. We all know how Tom can be when some shiny new thing catches his attention. But she is stubborn, and repentant. He will move past it before she forgives herself enough to even think of hurting Cain. In the meantime, please refrain from implying that my future sister-in-law is shagging our lord."
Fawley snorts, "She didn't look repentant when she was curled up next to him during the reception. Let alone when he almost snogged her in front of all of us. And somebody said they heard -"
"Please shut up, Melody. My family will not entertain such unfounded speculation," Druella declares.
"Unfounded? Merlin, I know you want to protect him, Ella - but you can't pretend that it's just rumors after everything people have seen them do. Anyway, you should be thrilled. Perhaps our lord be generous enough to let you call the next Heir of Slytherin one of yours."
Several snickers erupt around the room. Druella scowls, "Enough, ladies. She is not shagging him. That I can say for certain."
"Really? How can you be so certain?"
"You mean besides the fact that she spends practically every night in my brother's bed? Perhaps the fact that Tom has never retained interest in anybody he's shagged for more than a hot second afterward - as you should well know, Fawley."
"Now it's not fair to bring that up, Druella," Greengrass chimes in. Fawley is about to thank her when she seeks the smirk on her face. "He only shagged Melody to make Cassandra jealous. Hardly a good comparison to base your assumptions on, though I do think they are accurate. If she was shagging him already, Tom would definitely not still be letting your dear brother touch her at all, so don't go adding her to the family tree just yet."
"Don't be mean just because you are jealous that you definitely won't ever be joining the family now, Evelyn," Druella says with a return smirk before turning to the others. "Let's be realistic, we all know how Cain feels about her. That isn't going to change even if she does fuck Tom once to sate his curiosity and be free of his demands on her attention. Though, to restate and make sure no rumors arise from my statement, she hasn't and she won't."
"Merlin, I have never heard you be so naive before, Ella," Selwyn jumps in. "She is not like the others. As if that wasn't obvious enough already, today's displays proved it. It is a shame you couldn't attend and see for yourself what she did to her opponents."
Snyde leans forward, nearly whispering, "Surely, Tom won't… He's never…"
"You've all seen the way he looks at her. You all better get used to bowing to our lady soon. Which is why we should invite her to tea."
Tom is pissed. He is standing across the street from Rosier's townhouse, glaring at the lit up windows on the third floor, his wand twirling in his hand.
He could kill him. Just compel a house elf to slip a potion into his water. Make it look like a heart attack. He'd die with her sleeping next to him, and Tom would be there to soothe her grief. It wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable as watching the life drain from him for himself, but it would do the job.
He could fuck her. Just sneak in and take her from his bed. Hell, he didn't even have to move her. He would do it right in front of him. It didn't matter what she said, he knew she wanted him. He just had to make her know that too. She would be begging him to take her before she registered where she was.
Her silhouette appears against the window. A minute later the lights turn off. Another window comes alive now, on the second floor. Tom knows it is his study. The light is softer this time, but the window is also larger and the curtains are pulled back. She is wearing a short white nightgown, its lace and satin layers barely obscuring anything. He watches her take a seat at the desk, only her side profile visible now as she leans over and begins scratching something on a piece of parchment.
He looks around at the street, making sure it is empty. There is really no danger of anybody spotting him. In this neighborhood, all has already been quiet and dark for hours. Even if she looked out, the lack of streetlights makes it almost certain she wouldn't be able to see him watching her.
Tom slips the bow out of his pocket and holds it up to his face, his eyes slipping closed as he takes in her scent still lingering on it. His other hand pulls his zipper down and he slips his cock out, fisting it once before shuddering and looking up at her again. The things he wants to do to her. The things he will do to her next time they are alone together. The things he will do to Cain once she is his.
He finishes in his hand, wiping it off on his boxers before tucking himself back in and tucking the bow back into his pocket. He stays there, looking up at her, until the lights turn off again.
Tom sends Cassandra a note that they can skip Wednesday's meeting, disguising it as a present for her exceptional performance in the duels. He sends Mulciber to take his place and watch over Dolohov on Friday, telling him to tell her something else has come up if she asks where he is.
If he sees her, he knows he will do something he will not be able to come back from in her eyes. He will break all his promises to her and she will keep hers, disappearing into the wind again once he hurts her, even if that means leaving Cain behind.
Every night he finds himself in front of Cain's townhouse again, fantasies of the various discrete ways he can kill him during her next visit floating through his head. Luckily for Cain, she is too busy, as usual, to stay the night during the week. Anyway, Tom can never think of a way to do it that doesn't end in her knowing it was him, which is really what saves Cain's life.
An hour before the shop is set to close on Friday, a knock on Tom's office door takes his attention away from the chest he is trying to break a curse on. It had belonged to Merwyn the Malicious, and rumor was it contained his writings on reanimating the dead.
He hadn't heard the shop bell ring, so he assumes it is just Borgin or Burke asking him for the receipts for the week. Without thinking, he says to come in as he finishes up the wand motions for another spell that fails to crack the lock.
"Good afternoon, Tom," she says, a polite smile on her face.
"Didn't Mulciber tell you I was busy, Cassandra?" he responds, glaring at her. Why does she actively insist on tempting him to misbehave if she's only going to fault him for it afterward?
"He did," she answers, closing the door and stepping toward his desk despite his sour expression. "But seeing as we have an important meeting tomorrow, I thought making sure we were on the same page beforehand was worth interrupting you for."
"It is your business. I will let you handle the negotiations."
"So you won't be joining the meeting Saturday?"
"I don't have time -"
"Your latin is wrong here," she points out, leaning over the desk and tapping her finger against the spell he was crafting. "And the runes on the lid indicate you need to prick some magical blood right here for it to run down and trigger the lock before you say the spell. That's why it's not working."
He waves a hand, spelling the damn thing to float off his desk and on to the shelves on the other wall, before snarling, "I don't need your help, Ms. Malecrit."
"Merlin, are you really still holding a grudge because I didn't give in to your little ploy?" she asks as she straightens up again. "If this is how you are going to react every time I refuse to fuck you from now on, it's probably better I don't go to the meeting tomorrow."
He leans back in his chair, jaw twitching, before calming himself enough to say, "I am not holding a grudge about anything. I am merely tired of your games."
"My games?" she fires back with a laugh. "That part of our relationship has always been driven by you, and you alone."
"Don't lie, Cassandra. You've been physically drawn to me since that day on the beach. You don't think I can feel the way your skin flushes when I am nearby? See the way you bite your lips when you look at me? Notice how close you drift to me when we are together? You have done more than enough to encourage me, and far less than you could have to stop me."
She is silent in response to his accusations, the one glaring now. He smirks and stands from his chair, walking up behind her. She refuses to turn to face him, her arms crossed in front of her. His land on either side of the desk, surrounding her, as he leans forward to hiss in her ear.
"You came to see me, Cass. Here, in private, of your own volition. Already knowing I am less than pleased with how our last meeting ended, with being denied what should have been mine that evening. What were you hoping I was going to do to punish you?"
He gives her a minute to respond, the tension growing between them. She remains silent. Finally, she moves, only to try to push his arm away so she can leave. He grabs her before she can.
"Answer me," he orders, fingers flexing against her throat long enough to send a message but not hard enough to truly hurt her.
She takes in a shaky breath before saying, "I just wanted to make sure you would be at -"
He laughs, "Don't lie to me, Cass. Don't lie to yourself. What is it you want me to do?"
She snarls, "I don't want -"
He places a soft kiss on the back of her neck before whispering, "Fine. Since you refuse to act on your desires, I will do it for you, Cassandra. I will be the monster you so desperately want to pretend I am."
He tears her arms away from her body with his other hand, pressing her wrists down against the table. A rope appears magically around them, tying them together and locking them down. It is a simple spell, one they both know she could undo without a wand or any words - but she won't, because he knows what matters to her is the illusion of being compelled. What matters to her is keeping up the facade that she is not choosing this, not choosing him. His right hand comes down on the back of her thigh, pushing her legs apart.
She gasps when he touches the hem of her skirt, "I can't do this to -"
He smirks, "It will be our little secret."
For now, he thinks. He has no intention of sharing for long. Cain had taken her away from him that night. He would take her away from Cain forever.
His left hand pushes her skirt up. He pulls her hair back with the other, keeping her at the perfect angle for her hips to tilt up toward him. His nimble fingers push her underwear down until they slip to the floor. She whimpers when he touches her, fingers diving through her folds, teasing her until she's so slick the smell fills the entire room.
"You can feel how much you are enjoying this, imagine how much you would enjoy that," he hisses. She doesn't answer so he keeps playing, watching as she struggles to suppress her reaction. "Do you want me to stop, Cass?"
"No," she gasps out. Two of his fingers dive completely into her without warning, filling her so abruptly that it is almost painful but not moving enough to give her the pleasure she wants once they are buried inside her.
"Tell me you want me," he commands.
She doesn't answer but she moves against him, almost causing him to burst as she grinds her ass back against his crotch. He pulls her hair harder so that her hips are forced back against the desk. She tries in vain to squirm enough to feel his fingers moving, drawing a chuckle from him, "You are on the verge of orgasming for me harder than you ever have for him, aren't you? Trust me, Cassandra, I am barely getting started. Tell me you want me or I'll stop."
She still doesn't answer. He moves his fingers inside her, pumping and curling until she is shaking beneath him, and then withdraws. She whimpers, "Please."
"Say it, Cass," he hisses.
He twists her head around to make her look back at him. He can sense the debate raging in her head for a second, see in her eyes the guilt being overcome by the need and her control slipping. She knows he is not going to release her until he gets what he wants, and how bad can just giving it to him be? It is easy to tell herself that they both know she does not mean it anyway.
"I want you," she whispers.
He's going to fuck the guilt right out of her. He's going to make her mean it.
He slips into her, ripping a moan from her. A few thrusts is all it takes for him to be able to bottom out. He leans forward once he is all the way inside her, bitting at her earlobe before he hisses, "Just as perfect as I thought it would be. Like you were made for me, my little harpy."
She braces herself against the table as he works to coax an orgasm from her body with measured trusts and his hand still between her legs. His other hand slips from her hair to kneed her breasts through her shirt.
"Lift those hips up for me, Cass. That's it, good girl… Fuck," he groans out as he feels her spasm around him, leaning over to bite her shoulder in an effort to restrain himself. He stills to take in the sensation before starting again with the admonishment, "You are going to wait for me this time, my little harpy. Understand?"
"Then focus on fucking me instead of talking, Tom," she fires back.
Her command only makes him want to tease her more, to hold out as long as he can. Finally, when he can feel her clenching and his cock throbbing with every movement, he lets himself go inside of her. She follows, coming so hard that she slumps over the desk, her legs shaking and chest heaving. He pulls away and cleans himself up as she remains there, trying to regain her breath.
He strolls back over to his chair, taking a seat. They are face to face now, Cassandra still trapped in her position by the ropes he has left around her wrists. His seed inside of her and her juices coating his cock. Finally.
Their eyes meet, a scowl on her face at how contented his is. She tries to say something but he moves forward to kiss her before she can, languishing on her lips, tasting her as she lays there nearly limp.
"Don't bother threatening to leave if I do that again. I know you won't. You need me, Cassandra. Nothing else will satisfy you now."
"I do not need you, in any domain and much less so in this one."
"The way you respond to me would beg to differ," Tom says, thumb skimming the snake on her skin, drawing goosebumps. "Come now, you must realize there is no point in denying your desires anymore, my little harpy."
She catches the change in his nickname for her for the first time, regret blossoming in her chest in response. She growls back, "I'm not denying anything. I just don't want you."
"You just said differently, didn't you?" Tom answers with a smirk. His finger taps against the ropes and they dissolve. She stands back up and pulls down her skirt. Her underwear is gone, and she knows he must have taken it for himself, which irks her even more.
"You forced me to."
"Please, like you couldn't have broken that spell in a matter of seconds."
"You are an arrogant, dictatorial tosser."
"And you want me to fuck you again, don't you?"
"I hate you."
Tom raises an eyebrow, "Answer the question or I won't do it again. Ever."
She looks down at her skirt, smoothing it out, to hide the blush that creeps on to her face as she says, "Yes. Fine, I want you to fuck me. That does not mean I want you. Understand?"
Tom ignores the later part of her answer, simply asking, "Your place or mine?"
"I have plans this evening."
"Let me guess, dinner with your little pet?" Tom asks with a chuckle. "I will throughly enjoy the image of you sitting there sore from my cock as you try to focus on him."
He will be nice by letting Cain have this final time with her before he takes her for himself - though a large part of him just hopes he will sense the change in her and know what they have done.
"As full of yourself as always I see," she responds with an eye roll. "I will meet you here tomorrow so we can arrive at the casino together?"
"You are the one full of me, my little harpy," he teases. "I will be waiting here at 2 p.m. Do not be late this time."
"I am sure you realize that request is futile," she responds before turning the doorknob.
It is later that night, laying in Cain's bed, that Cassandra takes the time to process what she'd done. Contrary to his prevailing interpretation of her actions, she had not gone to Tom's office earlier that day because she wanted that to happen. No, she'd gone to get back his attention. As much as being the subject of it made her stomach turn, she'd recently been reminded that the alternative was even less desirable.
She'd had dinner with Cain Wednesday night, at the time thinking nothing strange of Tom's decision to forgo their own meeting. Being grateful for it, even. As soon as he'd sat down, she had noticed he looked tired. Again, she didn't think much of it. He was a busy man. But something had seemed just a bit off about his smile too, so she'd asked if he was alright. Just a few nightmares, he'd said. Nothing to worry about.
It was when he turned down the glass of firewhisky that she knew something must really be off. It was clear he wanted to stay alert - or as alert as he could be, given that it looked like he hadn't slept more than a few hours over the span of the last few days. She just smiled and pretended not to notice. Cain was very good at protecting his mind, but she could read every expression on his face and decipher every one of his actions.
She had lied and said she had gotten a hotel room down the street because she had an early morning meeting in London and didn't want to wake him - but would he perhaps like to come too? It would be a fun change of scenery, she joked. As soon as they finished, he was out. Asleep with that perfect face of his truly relaxed again and his muscular arms wrapped loosely around her, looking like the marble statute of a greek god in the bed next to her, as handsome and carefree as ever.
It was Tom, she had known instantly. She would not put it past him to try to drive Cain crazy. To plant nightmares in his head, through magic or threats. It appeared she'd underestimated what Tom's reaction to actually seeing her choose him would be. She had feared that Tom would soon take the excuse of not seeing her to go back on their promise, to hurt him in some concrete way instead of just whatever little games he was playing. She had to protect Cain, even if that meant putting herself in the firing line of his anger.
This was what she had told herself when she had been awake staring at the dear, sweet boy who would never hurt her, whose gentle hold made her feel normal and cherished. Who was too nice to even tell her what Tom was doing to him because of her. Who was too afraid of losing her to complain.
But she had felt like Tom was haunting her dreams too, because he had been there again when she had closed her eyes, the feeling of cold lips and hard touches all over her, never enough and always too much. His smell, his magic, his hands suffocating her in the sweetest way, making her beg for more, making her wake with a start and pray she hadn't said the words aloud.
Maybe, just maybe, she had wanted to see him. A little. Maybe she had wanted to know what was running through his head. To see if she'd gotten to him and revel in her victory if she had. After all, she's had already made herself a piece on Tom's chessboard. There is no going back, so she might as well play the game. She hadn't realized how seriously he took winning. Or maybe she had and she hadn't wanted to resist it anymore.
Whatever it was that had driven her to his office, the truth of what had happened there was undeniable - mostly because she could still feel him between her legs. Worse, she could no longer deny to herself that thinking of seeing him the next day made her ache even more.
She could run. He is dangerous. She is dangerous when she is with him. He will make her the worst version of herself and call it setting her free. She knows that. Had known a man like him once. Different ideas, same ambitions. Then again, is it even really possible to go back from the things she has done? This all still feels like an act; he is right about that much. If it isn't possible, if she is still who she was, then why not use his help to redirect her anger at her past into something useful?
She wants to be here. To be a part of this. To be with Cain.
She will give in - to what she wants and to him. Enjoy the experience of fucking him, while it lasts. Eventually, she is sure, he will get bored. He will leave her to Cain, to whatever happiness they can have left. It is the best outcome of all the ones she can imagine at this point.
In the meantime, she will embrace the power it gives her over him. She had heard the need in his voice when he'd demanded she say she wanted him, noticed the desperation in his eyes when he'd kissed her afterward. It will keep Cain safe, his desire to keep her, as long as she makes sure he remembers the terms of their arrangement.
A/N: Yay, twenty chapters and over 90,000 words down! Every single chapter takes several hours of drafting and editing, and it's hard to sit down and do that when it feels like nobody is going to read it. If you have read this far, please, please just leave a review on this chapter at least. Literally anything (even just a few words) is super motivating and makes me feel like people actually appreciate this so I should keep working on it. Thank you :)