Fic; Harry Potter, Zacharias/Daphne
I had a bit of a freak out in Tesco's. They were selling the new TBS album. Something is wrong with the world.
Anyway, on to what this post is really about.
Title: Never Forget
Author: black_goose
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Zacharias/Daphne
Word count: 1,667
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Zacharias learns from his mistakes
A/N: This is for _____faith and gmalfoyismytwin, who randomly requested Z/D smut. Only Faith, who is a good girl, got Melanie to do it. And I was *cough* happy to oblige. I want an explanation as to why I got asked though.
This was actually thought of when I was in Scotland, and started out as a angsty fic to go with a song that I can't remember, and then turned fluffy, then ultra smutty. Because my mind works like that.
"You've forgotten what day it is."
Her voice was cold, like ice, and bitter. It made an interesting combination, one that told him he was in major trouble. He glanced up from his book. She was standing in annoyance mode- arms crossed, legs apart, scowl on face. She was not to be crossed, and he had to be careful, as he had no idea what she was talking about.
"Day?"
Wrong. Her scowl deepened, arms tightened, and the aura of anger almost burnt him. He'd clearly done something wrong, but he didn't know what, and that clearly was making her even more angry. He just stared blankly. It never helped that her anger made her beauty increase tenfold.
"Yes, Zach, day. It's been three years today since we started going out. It's only our FUCKING ANNIVERSARY!"
Shit. He'd known there was something he'd forgotten. He'd thought it was cat food, then he'd remembered they didn't have a cat. This actually explained a lot about Zacharias Smith.
She was still majorly pissed, and he didn't know what to do. He wasn't good with this, he tried to steer clear of confrontation with Daphne, as he always lost. "Sorry?" he tried, but she burst into tears.
"SORRY?" She screamed, "SORRY? I don't believe you! You forget our anniversary, and all you can say is SORRY?"
"Hey," he protested, "I've been busy! And I am sorry!"
"This is your problem! You've always got an excuse, always have a reason, and I'm sick of it! I can't live like this anymore. I need space, Zach."
His heart froze, face drained, chest tightened. Had she just said what he though she'd said? "What?" he whispered.
"You heard me. I'm sorry. I have to. I'm leaving." She stood up, but he grabbed her arm, and pulled her back down.
"You can't just leave."
"Watch me," she said with a scowl, and tried to pull out of his grasp. He didn't let go.
"No, no, no, you can't, please! At lease give me a reason! I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong!"
She sighed, sat back down, and buryed her face in her arms. "Everything's wrong, Zach. I barely see you, barely talk to you. Everything seems to be wrong. Even the sex is wrong."
"What?" He asked, confused, "what's wrong with the sex?"
She looked at him pityingfully. "It's boring. Always has been...and always will be."
He stared at her. This was really happening. Really and truly. She was leaving him. The only one who had ever made him whole, and she was going. She was bored. With him.
"Please," she whispered, voice thick with tears, "please just let me go."
He just carried on staring, shocked beyond belief, so she peeled his fingers away, and for a second he reveled in her touch, silky skin on his, but then her fingers left his, and it was lost. He thought "That may be the last time she touches me." It scared him, so much so that he didn't notice her leave. It was only when the door clicked that he jumped up, raced outside, pulled open their- no, his, now- front door. She was half way down the stairs of the apartment block, still in sight, so he called out. She had a suitcase, she'd planned this, but her face was covered in tears, streaked, still beautiful.
"Please," he said. "Please don't leave."
"Sorry." She said, and left.
***
Never let it be said that Ginny Malfoy doesn't hold good parties, thinks Daphne Greengrass. There was plenty of alcohol, which, given her present state of mind, was always a good thing.
It had been a week since she'd walken out on Zacharias. She'd gotten a pay rise, had a manicure, feathered her hair, and spent seven nights crying herself to sleep in her room in the Malfoy Mansion.
She missed Zach. It was like a constant dull ache. She looked well on the outside, but she was dieing on the inside. She was so stupid. She'd honestly thought that she could just walk out, and that would be it. All the feelings would disappear. And, of course, they hadn't.
They'd gotten worse.
In two years of living together, there hadn't been a night she hadn't spent with Zach. Now she was willingly forcing herself away. It was hell, living, breathing, torturing hell.
"Are you okay, Daphne?"
It was Draco, cool and collected, as his wife flitted around, playing the dutiful host, loving every minute of it. She envied Ginny. Ginny was clever, Ginny knew a good thing when she saw it, and she kept ahold of it. She'd kept a firm hold on Draco, the most sought after bloke in Wizarding Britain, and also one of the sweetest.
"Yes," she lies, "I'm fine."
"Oh good," her blond friend drawls, "because if I'm not mistaken, there's someone here who wants to talk to you."
She turns. Ginny, the little minx, has an arm looped around Zach's, who looks tired and dishevelled. His hair is messed, tousled in a way that is both a turn off and a turn on. She can't tear her eyes away. She'd really thought she could leave this?
He looked at her with goddamn puppy dog eyes, only they weren't quite. He looked at her as though she was the only thing in the room, and it made her guilty. Look at him! her conscience screams, look at what you've done!
"Well," says Draco, "shall we dance, dear wife?", and with that, he leads Ginny away.
"Draco," she hears her red-haired friend say sweetly, "you remember what I said about subtlety?"
"Do you mind if we talk?" asks Zacharias.
She nodds and leads them to a little balcony, secluded by curtains and magic. They stand in silence, she's happy to just watch him struggle for words. When he speaks, his voice is barely a whisper.
"I've missed you."
She doesn't say anything. There's nothing to say. She can't make it right. She misss him too, but she'd broken up with him. There was nothing she could do.
No matter how many times she told herself that, it didn't get any better.
"Do you have any idea how it feels?" He askf angrily, but angry was good, angry stopped the guilt eating away at her.
"I can't stand it, Daph! Everything I do, everything I did, it revolved around you! Everything! And you. Aren't. There. So I do nothing. I go to work, I pay the bills, I keep up pretences. No one knows, not Ginny, not Justin, no one. Because they haven't had their heart broken."
Don't cry, she thinks, please, God, don't let me cry.
"Nothing's right anymore! I can't eat, I can't sleep, I don't feel like moving. Do you know how it feels to expect someone to be there in the morning, and they aren't? It's like missing a step on the stairs. It's like being constantly hungry. It's like nothing I can explain. It's like...every night, when I came home from work, I'd go to shout 'I'm home!', then remember you weren't home, you're at work. Only now, I think that, then I remember that you aren't coming home, you are never coming home. I can't live like this. You may be able to, but i can't."
She looks at him, really looks, and she sees it for the first time- the tiny cracks that run along his skin. There are so many, too many, tiny, immeasurable, and there's no way she could fix it, no way she can make it right. So she doesn't.
She shatters him.
He kisses back, but only for a second, then pulls away to push her against the wall, and kisses her again. It's passionate, sultry, hot, but it's not enough, she needs more. She pulls away.
"Flat." She gasps, and apparates.
He's there a second after, and they don't miss a beat, lips connected as soon as he's there. Her desire needs sated now, so she steps back, and he follows her, until they are at the doorway to the bedroom. For a second they stop, and he pushes her up against the door frame, his lips burning trails on her skin, and she moans, and pulls on his tie until she's on the bed, and he's on top.
The next few moments are misty, lost in a cloud of lust, but she knows she isn't undressed, her dress is merely pushed up, and her knickers around her ankles, and his trousers pushed down, shirt still on, tie still on, clenched in her fist. Then he pushes two fingers inside of her, and she screams, and he pulls out. Those fingers find their way to his mouth, and she watches through lidded eyes as he sucks them. The sight of him, the shear lust in his eyes, bring her to the edge, and then he's inside of her, and it's too hard, too fast, too much, and she's coming, screaming out his name, and he does too, but he's silent, sucking on her neck. And then they collapse together.
***
The next morning is different. She wakes up on top of him, but she's still not undressed, and neither's he. Her body is alive, and neck and chest covered in lovebites. She feels alive. She looks again, and he isn't shattered. In fact, he's fixed, and she laughs, happy and carefree, and kisses him awake.
They lie there, quiet, until he kisses her again, and it starts again, only it's slow, silent. Her eyes are closed, and she can hear every breath, feel every touch, smell the heady air and taste the salt on his skin. And then it's done, and she falls on top of him, and burys her face in the crook of his neck.
"It's never been like that before," she whispers.
She feels, rather than hears, him chuckle. "Maybe we should break up more often." he says.
She kisses him firmly.
"Never."
Anyway, on to what this post is really about.
Title: Never Forget
Author: black_goose
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Zacharias/Daphne
Word count: 1,667
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Zacharias learns from his mistakes
A/N: This is for _____faith and gmalfoyismytwin, who randomly requested Z/D smut. Only Faith, who is a good girl, got Melanie to do it. And I was *cough* happy to oblige. I want an explanation as to why I got asked though.
This was actually thought of when I was in Scotland, and started out as a angsty fic to go with a song that I can't remember, and then turned fluffy, then ultra smutty. Because my mind works like that.
"You've forgotten what day it is."
Her voice was cold, like ice, and bitter. It made an interesting combination, one that told him he was in major trouble. He glanced up from his book. She was standing in annoyance mode- arms crossed, legs apart, scowl on face. She was not to be crossed, and he had to be careful, as he had no idea what she was talking about.
"Day?"
Wrong. Her scowl deepened, arms tightened, and the aura of anger almost burnt him. He'd clearly done something wrong, but he didn't know what, and that clearly was making her even more angry. He just stared blankly. It never helped that her anger made her beauty increase tenfold.
"Yes, Zach, day. It's been three years today since we started going out. It's only our FUCKING ANNIVERSARY!"
Shit. He'd known there was something he'd forgotten. He'd thought it was cat food, then he'd remembered they didn't have a cat. This actually explained a lot about Zacharias Smith.
She was still majorly pissed, and he didn't know what to do. He wasn't good with this, he tried to steer clear of confrontation with Daphne, as he always lost. "Sorry?" he tried, but she burst into tears.
"SORRY?" She screamed, "SORRY? I don't believe you! You forget our anniversary, and all you can say is SORRY?"
"Hey," he protested, "I've been busy! And I am sorry!"
"This is your problem! You've always got an excuse, always have a reason, and I'm sick of it! I can't live like this anymore. I need space, Zach."
His heart froze, face drained, chest tightened. Had she just said what he though she'd said? "What?" he whispered.
"You heard me. I'm sorry. I have to. I'm leaving." She stood up, but he grabbed her arm, and pulled her back down.
"You can't just leave."
"Watch me," she said with a scowl, and tried to pull out of his grasp. He didn't let go.
"No, no, no, you can't, please! At lease give me a reason! I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong!"
She sighed, sat back down, and buryed her face in her arms. "Everything's wrong, Zach. I barely see you, barely talk to you. Everything seems to be wrong. Even the sex is wrong."
"What?" He asked, confused, "what's wrong with the sex?"
She looked at him pityingfully. "It's boring. Always has been...and always will be."
He stared at her. This was really happening. Really and truly. She was leaving him. The only one who had ever made him whole, and she was going. She was bored. With him.
"Please," she whispered, voice thick with tears, "please just let me go."
He just carried on staring, shocked beyond belief, so she peeled his fingers away, and for a second he reveled in her touch, silky skin on his, but then her fingers left his, and it was lost. He thought "That may be the last time she touches me." It scared him, so much so that he didn't notice her leave. It was only when the door clicked that he jumped up, raced outside, pulled open their- no, his, now- front door. She was half way down the stairs of the apartment block, still in sight, so he called out. She had a suitcase, she'd planned this, but her face was covered in tears, streaked, still beautiful.
"Please," he said. "Please don't leave."
"Sorry." She said, and left.
***
Never let it be said that Ginny Malfoy doesn't hold good parties, thinks Daphne Greengrass. There was plenty of alcohol, which, given her present state of mind, was always a good thing.
It had been a week since she'd walken out on Zacharias. She'd gotten a pay rise, had a manicure, feathered her hair, and spent seven nights crying herself to sleep in her room in the Malfoy Mansion.
She missed Zach. It was like a constant dull ache. She looked well on the outside, but she was dieing on the inside. She was so stupid. She'd honestly thought that she could just walk out, and that would be it. All the feelings would disappear. And, of course, they hadn't.
They'd gotten worse.
In two years of living together, there hadn't been a night she hadn't spent with Zach. Now she was willingly forcing herself away. It was hell, living, breathing, torturing hell.
"Are you okay, Daphne?"
It was Draco, cool and collected, as his wife flitted around, playing the dutiful host, loving every minute of it. She envied Ginny. Ginny was clever, Ginny knew a good thing when she saw it, and she kept ahold of it. She'd kept a firm hold on Draco, the most sought after bloke in Wizarding Britain, and also one of the sweetest.
"Yes," she lies, "I'm fine."
"Oh good," her blond friend drawls, "because if I'm not mistaken, there's someone here who wants to talk to you."
She turns. Ginny, the little minx, has an arm looped around Zach's, who looks tired and dishevelled. His hair is messed, tousled in a way that is both a turn off and a turn on. She can't tear her eyes away. She'd really thought she could leave this?
He looked at her with goddamn puppy dog eyes, only they weren't quite. He looked at her as though she was the only thing in the room, and it made her guilty. Look at him! her conscience screams, look at what you've done!
"Well," says Draco, "shall we dance, dear wife?", and with that, he leads Ginny away.
"Draco," she hears her red-haired friend say sweetly, "you remember what I said about subtlety?"
"Do you mind if we talk?" asks Zacharias.
She nodds and leads them to a little balcony, secluded by curtains and magic. They stand in silence, she's happy to just watch him struggle for words. When he speaks, his voice is barely a whisper.
"I've missed you."
She doesn't say anything. There's nothing to say. She can't make it right. She misss him too, but she'd broken up with him. There was nothing she could do.
No matter how many times she told herself that, it didn't get any better.
"Do you have any idea how it feels?" He askf angrily, but angry was good, angry stopped the guilt eating away at her.
"I can't stand it, Daph! Everything I do, everything I did, it revolved around you! Everything! And you. Aren't. There. So I do nothing. I go to work, I pay the bills, I keep up pretences. No one knows, not Ginny, not Justin, no one. Because they haven't had their heart broken."
Don't cry, she thinks, please, God, don't let me cry.
"Nothing's right anymore! I can't eat, I can't sleep, I don't feel like moving. Do you know how it feels to expect someone to be there in the morning, and they aren't? It's like missing a step on the stairs. It's like being constantly hungry. It's like nothing I can explain. It's like...every night, when I came home from work, I'd go to shout 'I'm home!', then remember you weren't home, you're at work. Only now, I think that, then I remember that you aren't coming home, you are never coming home. I can't live like this. You may be able to, but i can't."
She looks at him, really looks, and she sees it for the first time- the tiny cracks that run along his skin. There are so many, too many, tiny, immeasurable, and there's no way she could fix it, no way she can make it right. So she doesn't.
She shatters him.
He kisses back, but only for a second, then pulls away to push her against the wall, and kisses her again. It's passionate, sultry, hot, but it's not enough, she needs more. She pulls away.
"Flat." She gasps, and apparates.
He's there a second after, and they don't miss a beat, lips connected as soon as he's there. Her desire needs sated now, so she steps back, and he follows her, until they are at the doorway to the bedroom. For a second they stop, and he pushes her up against the door frame, his lips burning trails on her skin, and she moans, and pulls on his tie until she's on the bed, and he's on top.
The next few moments are misty, lost in a cloud of lust, but she knows she isn't undressed, her dress is merely pushed up, and her knickers around her ankles, and his trousers pushed down, shirt still on, tie still on, clenched in her fist. Then he pushes two fingers inside of her, and she screams, and he pulls out. Those fingers find their way to his mouth, and she watches through lidded eyes as he sucks them. The sight of him, the shear lust in his eyes, bring her to the edge, and then he's inside of her, and it's too hard, too fast, too much, and she's coming, screaming out his name, and he does too, but he's silent, sucking on her neck. And then they collapse together.
***
The next morning is different. She wakes up on top of him, but she's still not undressed, and neither's he. Her body is alive, and neck and chest covered in lovebites. She feels alive. She looks again, and he isn't shattered. In fact, he's fixed, and she laughs, happy and carefree, and kisses him awake.
They lie there, quiet, until he kisses her again, and it starts again, only it's slow, silent. Her eyes are closed, and she can hear every breath, feel every touch, smell the heady air and taste the salt on his skin. And then it's done, and she falls on top of him, and burys her face in the crook of his neck.
"It's never been like that before," she whispers.
She feels, rather than hears, him chuckle. "Maybe we should break up more often." he says.
She kisses him firmly.
"Never."