Random Harry Potter One shots

Hurting (Drarry)

I really should have warned you guys that this is a lemon one-shot. I add apologize for forgetting to label it as such. It is the first if it's kind in my one-shots but i hope it is not the last. I also want to know if those who enjoy it want a part two or not. Thank you and enjoy.
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I'm so sorry you're hurting, I really am. But you're not the only one.

I have loved you for so long, that I've learned to put your issues and qualms before mine.

I ignored my constant thrum of pain, when you consistently rejected my feelings.

I ignored the way you only came to me when it all was too much, and no one was looking.

When they were, I didn't exist.

I ignored the constant shame that rushed through me, every time I pushed my feelings for you away.

I ignored the seething looks you'd give me when I cornered you in various places, just so you'd tell me what was wrong.

I ignored the way you leaned into my touch even though you swore up and down you despised my very being.

I ignored the way you lunged to connect our mouths merely three hours after the end of the war, the pure desperation and need behind your eyes overpowering.

I ignored the way you took me that night with such hunger and want, I'd have assumed you actually wanted me for more than to get off, if you were anyone else.

I ignored the way you appeared at my trial and spoke with such heroism, they acquitted me immediately.

I ignored the sudden acceptance of my application to the ministry, just months later.

I ignored the numerous conquests you'd joke about with your Auror colleagues, while I sat alone with my lunch.

I learned to expect little from you, early.

I never asked for anything from you.

But, it still hurt every time you'd come to me  when we were young fools.

It hurts when you come to me, place your addictive mouth on mine, and somehow end up starkers with me in my bed minutes later, no matter how much I want to tell you to leave and never come back.

I hate that I'm weak when it comes to you.

I loathe myself every time I vanish the bruises your wonderful mouth leaves on my neck.

I loathe myself for savoring the painful searing in my arse you leave with your well endowed appendage.

I loathe myself for hoping every time you use my body, that you'll stay. That I'll wake up the next morning to your warm, glorious sleeping form.

I want to say no to hurting myself, to letting you hurt me.

But I can't and deep down I know that no matter how much you hurt me, I won't.

Because despite the fact that you never speak to me, save a few mumbled curses whispered when you're inside of me, despite the fact that you don't and won't ever feel the same, I love you.