Fic: Future Unchosen

[deceptivechasm.livejournal.com]

Title: Future Unchosen
Author: deceptivechasm
Prompt Number: 474 submitted by broken_anchor
Kink Showcased: UST
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Harry/Luna
Summary: Luna can't chose him, because the choice was never really hers.
Warnings: mentions of sexual situations, angst, serious UST
Word Count: 932
Author's Notes: Disclaimer: I own nothing. Special thanks to kamerreon for editing!

Luna wishes that she could lie to him. She wishes that she could look into his expressive green eyes and whisper words of love. She wants to rush to him and wrap her arms around him, never letting him go.

She closes her eyes and looks down at her half-eaten breakfast. She knows that she needs to get over her feelings. She knows that if Harry catches even a small ounce of proof he will confess to her, and she can't have that. She can't steal his future from him—not after everything he has been through.

She ignores the heat of his gaze as she picks at her sausages and pancakes, trying to convince herself that it is for the best. That everything will work out if she just stays away.

Her heart clenches painfully in her chest as she gathers her bag and leaves the Great Hall. She tries to hurry to her first class, but she knows he will follow her; he always follows her. She walks faster when she hears her name, desperate and harried.

"Luna, please!"

Luna freezes, unable to deny him. Her fingers tighten around the strap of her book bag, as if it will protect her. Her other hand fiddles with her cork necklace, asking her mum for strength and guidance. She doesn't want to ruin everything because she couldn't handle the pressure. She has to do this… if not for them, at least for him. He deserves better.

She spins around and looks through him. Luna knows that if she looks directly at Harry she'll falter. Her heart thumps faster as he pulls her into his arms, wrapping her in the scent of sweat and fresh clothes. She inhales (thoughts flitting to visions of sweat-soaked sheets and semen-splattered clothes), relishing the memory before she deliberately takes a step back, breaking the hold.

"Why?” he croaks, voice hoarse with so many unnamed emotions. His eyes burn with need, want, desire—and she feels her nipples start to peak inside their lacy confines.

She winces and wishes, once again, that they could be together. Luna glances down and smiles in bitterness when her prayers go unanswered, just as they always do. His tongue cannot slither inside her, and hers cannot lap at his seeping cockhead. Luna steels herself and looks up, breath catching at his pain-ridden eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.

She knows that he doesn't understand, and she knows how much she is hurting him with her silence, but it takes her a few moments to muster up enough words to speak—because she selfishly wants the future where Harry tenderly claims her virginity… even if Voldemort wins. She pastes a dreamy smile on her face and lets her eyes go hazy. "The Crumple-Horned Snor—"

"Don't! Don't you dare hide behind your riddles and your dreams, Luna. Not right now. Not when—just—tell me why—" he pleads, voice wet and muffled.

Luna fights back the tears and stares at him, shoulders squared and firm. She tilts her chin and, with a voice stronger than she thought she had, says, "I don't love you." Lies, lies, lies!

Harry shudders and draws back, face crumpling. She knows it will only take a few more words until he is utterly broken, but she can't make herself say them. Even though she can’t have the reality she aches for, the one where he holds her against walls and shags her until she’s pregnant with their child… she can't hurt him anymore.

He reaches a trembling hand toward her face, caressing her cold cheek. "You don't have to love me. Just let me love you. I need you. I crave the taste of your skin on my tongue. Every time I see you, my fingers twitch with the need to wrap my arms around you and never let you go. The smell of your perfume haunts my nights. You're everything to me, Luna. So please, don't take that away from me."

Her heart beats faster beneath her breast as if it is trying to jump out of her chest and into his hands. She bites her lip as the picture he paints with his words refuses to leave her mind. She knows he isn't lying. She knows that every night for the past week he wanked off to visions of her lying upon his bed. She knows he dreams of them one day getting married and having children.

Luna closes her eyes as the images flash through her mind like a Muggle movie. She wants that. She wants to feel him between her thighs, filling her with his cock. She wants to feel the bruises and love bites he will mark her skin with as he thrusts into her again and again. Luna moans as her knickers start to get damp. She wants to smell the scent of musk and semen that will prove that he is hers, even if everyone else won't know.

But she can't. Luna can't chose him, because the choice was never really hers. If she chooses him… if she’s selfish just this once…

Her eyes shoot open, spearing him with heat and determination. "The Crumple-Horned Snorkack wishes you good luck with the Nargle. It says that you will be very happy and that you will have many Wrackspurts."

Luna blocks out his pleading and the feeling of utter emptiness between her legs as she walks to her first class. And if the tears in her eyes make them look shinier, no one will notice. They'll just think it's because she's Loony Lovegood.