Fic: Awakening | Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy | R
Title: Awakening
Characters: Asto(e)ria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy
Rating: R
Words: 538
Warnings: Sorta EWE.
Author's Note: Written for hp_humpdrabbles ' 2010 Humpathon. leigh_adams requested Draco/Astoria to the prompt of Blinding by Florence+the Machine. I didn't fit everything I wanted to into this so I suggest listening to the song as you read to get a bit more out of this.
Dressed only in her shift, Astoria was a ghostly specter in the night-quiet Manor, silent as she moved towards her destination. Soft fingertips trailed against the wall as she traveled down the darkened corridor, a steady guide in her quest.
Finally, her hand brushed against the latch of a door. The door. She pushed down slowly, muting the sound of the door releasing, allowing her entry. She slipped in, not bothering to close it behind her. No one else resided in this wing.
A lamp glowed near the bed. He was already under the covers, reading in the dim light. He didn't notice her entry.
"Draco."
He looked up, surprised to see her. It'd been weeks since she'd graced his rooms with her presence, let alone spoken to him.
"Astoria." His greeting was wary, as it should have been. After what had happened, he deserved this measure of fear.
In a simple move, Astoria pushed her shift off her shoulders, letting it pool to the floor.
She came to stand at the end of his bed, her naked body on display for him. But no soft curves, no pink flesh could distract from the hard set of her face, the steely glint in her once doe-soft eyes.
"What is this?" he asked softly, uncertainly.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" she asked, poisonous anger simmering just beneath her flat tones. "Me, willing in your bed?"
Draco set the book down and sighed, his eyes focused on a point past her right shoulder. "I did. Not anymore." Not this hard woman, this porcelain doll that he had broken. He met her eyes and Astoria saw pity.
Her anger spilled over. "I am your wife," she spat, lifting her chin in defiance. "I demand satisfaction."
Draco remained still.
Taking the silence as permission, she closed the distance between them, crawling up the bed on her hands and knees until they were nose to nose, lips nearly brushing. Rocking back on her heels, Astoria watched him, cold and calculating. Her hand trailed up her body, cupping her breast, brushing a pert nipple.
His eyes followed that hand.
"Is this what you wanted? Did you imagine this?" she asked softly, fingers circling her nipple again and again, teasing it to hardness. Her other hand moved up her thigh and ghosted across pink lips. "When you let Blaise go, was this what you thought of?"
Draco's focus, so intent on his wife's ministrations, was broken at that name. His friend. Her lover.
"I-I didn't-" Draco stuttered, trying to explain that he hadn't known, that it had been an accident. He tried to lie but words failed him at the sight of her spreading lips and her soft moan.
"I know what you did," she stated. "I see it now."
Leaning close again, Astoria brought her lips to his, hands now resting on either side of him, rummaging through silk sheets.
Giving in, Draco let his lips trail the line of her jaw and settled in the crux of her neck and shoulder. His hands explored the body that had never been truly his, until now.
He recognized the feel of a wand--his wand--at his neck too late.
"Avada kedavra." She whispered viciously, vengefully, victoriously. She wouldn't be held under again.
Characters: Asto(e)ria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy
Rating: R
Words: 538
Warnings: Sorta EWE.
Author's Note: Written for hp_humpdrabbles ' 2010 Humpathon. leigh_adams requested Draco/Astoria to the prompt of Blinding by Florence+the Machine. I didn't fit everything I wanted to into this so I suggest listening to the song as you read to get a bit more out of this.
Dressed only in her shift, Astoria was a ghostly specter in the night-quiet Manor, silent as she moved towards her destination. Soft fingertips trailed against the wall as she traveled down the darkened corridor, a steady guide in her quest.
Finally, her hand brushed against the latch of a door. The door. She pushed down slowly, muting the sound of the door releasing, allowing her entry. She slipped in, not bothering to close it behind her. No one else resided in this wing.
A lamp glowed near the bed. He was already under the covers, reading in the dim light. He didn't notice her entry.
"Draco."
He looked up, surprised to see her. It'd been weeks since she'd graced his rooms with her presence, let alone spoken to him.
"Astoria." His greeting was wary, as it should have been. After what had happened, he deserved this measure of fear.
In a simple move, Astoria pushed her shift off her shoulders, letting it pool to the floor.
She came to stand at the end of his bed, her naked body on display for him. But no soft curves, no pink flesh could distract from the hard set of her face, the steely glint in her once doe-soft eyes.
"What is this?" he asked softly, uncertainly.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" she asked, poisonous anger simmering just beneath her flat tones. "Me, willing in your bed?"
Draco set the book down and sighed, his eyes focused on a point past her right shoulder. "I did. Not anymore." Not this hard woman, this porcelain doll that he had broken. He met her eyes and Astoria saw pity.
Her anger spilled over. "I am your wife," she spat, lifting her chin in defiance. "I demand satisfaction."
Draco remained still.
Taking the silence as permission, she closed the distance between them, crawling up the bed on her hands and knees until they were nose to nose, lips nearly brushing. Rocking back on her heels, Astoria watched him, cold and calculating. Her hand trailed up her body, cupping her breast, brushing a pert nipple.
His eyes followed that hand.
"Is this what you wanted? Did you imagine this?" she asked softly, fingers circling her nipple again and again, teasing it to hardness. Her other hand moved up her thigh and ghosted across pink lips. "When you let Blaise go, was this what you thought of?"
Draco's focus, so intent on his wife's ministrations, was broken at that name. His friend. Her lover.
"I-I didn't-" Draco stuttered, trying to explain that he hadn't known, that it had been an accident. He tried to lie but words failed him at the sight of her spreading lips and her soft moan.
"I know what you did," she stated. "I see it now."
Leaning close again, Astoria brought her lips to his, hands now resting on either side of him, rummaging through silk sheets.
Giving in, Draco let his lips trail the line of her jaw and settled in the crux of her neck and shoulder. His hands explored the body that had never been truly his, until now.
He recognized the feel of a wand--his wand--at his neck too late.
"Avada kedavra." She whispered viciously, vengefully, victoriously. She wouldn't be held under again.