Tumgik
#oliver wood scenarios
luv4freddie · 4 months
Text
Aerophobia (fear of flying)
Tumblr media
Your fear of flying had kept you off a broom ever since first year, but dating Oliver Wood was bound to fix that. 575 words, fluffy mini story
Tumblr media
“Please doll?”
You’d been very adamant about one thing in your time at Hogwarts, and it was that you would not be getting on a broom.
Your first year flying lessons had been a very unfortunate experience, with the amount of falling and bumping into other students you did it was a miracle they even let you finish the class.
And ever since then you’d sworn off getting on one of those cursed cleaning tools.
A relatively easy ban, until you ended up dating Oliver Wood— someone who might actually spend more time on his broom than on his feet.
One thing led to another, and now here you are, with your boyfriend giving you his pretty puppy eyes and a broom hovering next to him.
“I told you-”
“I know,” he says, familiar with your objections, “but your wonderful boyfriend is here and he’s an amazing flyer and he promises to not let you fall off.”
“He’s also talking in third person, which is weird,” you mumble.
Oliver laughs, but he recognizes that you’ve given up.
He holds the broom horizontally and lets you climb on, before climbing on behind you.
He’s reaching around you to hold his hands in front of you so that you’re trapped, his arms acting like the bumper rails you’ve seen at muggle bowling alleys.
“Relax,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.
“Just go before I change my mind.” You state, gritting your teeth in nervousness.
He lets out another chuckle but kicks off anyway, and you screw your eyes shut as a gust of wind hits you in the face.
The broom stabilizes in the air, and you wait to feel him take off zooming, but he never does.
You cautiously open one eye, squinting around at your surroundings.
You’re hovering about ten feet in the air— not moving.
“Ollie?” You have to speak up to be heard, as you’re too scared of shifting the broom to turn his way.
“Yes love?”
“Why aren’t we moving?”
“Do you want to?”
“I just thought you would.” You risk the small movement of shrugging your shoulders, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks again.
“I’ll move, but you can’t close your eyes, deal?”
“I don’t know…”
He lifts one of his hands off the broom to offer his pinky to you, but you let out a squeal, leaning your back further into his chest.
“Oliver Wood you put your hand back on this broom right now!”
He laughs, “make the deal then.”
You let out a groan, still pushing further into him, and decide that anything is better than falling off the broom.
“Fine. Deal. I’m not moving my hand though.”
He places his hand back on the broom in front of you, at the same time placing a kiss on your cheekbone.
“Good answer.”
You brace for the broom to take off, clutching the handle tighter but keeping your part of the deal up— your eyes stay trained directly in front of you.
Oliver moves one hand further up and the broom gives a small lurch forward.
You hear him laugh at the squeal you let out, but you’re moving much slower and less aggressively than Oliver usually is on his broom, and your fear starts to drain as he continues to gently move the broom forward.
“Look, you can see the courtyard over there,” his voice is calm in your ears, and you excitedly look over.
“I see it! Look! Do you think that’s Fred and George?” You question, pointing to your left at two ant sized figures with red hair.
“Might be.” He hums, trying not to point out your sudden confidence as your hand moves again, pointing at something else.
Five minutes later and you’re back on solid ground, Oliver helping you off the broom with a satisfied grin on his face.
“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” He teases.
“I guess not,” you concede, popping up to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“What’s that for?” He asks, although he’s already got a smug smile on his face.
“For taking such good care of me.”
He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers and placing a sweet kiss on your knuckles while leading you back to the castle, his other hand holding the broom.
“I’ll always take care of you.”
270 notes · View notes
elisedonut · 3 months
Text
A Pre-Perciverus scenario where they have to take a professional style photo together for some reason or another that i don't care to invent
where they have to be like dressed up and stuff point is as they're standing in front of the camera Marcus's tie is messed up so Percy fixes it for him because obv they're both in this photo and if Marcus looks bad it will make Percy look bad too but fixing it makes Oliver feel jealous which is made worse by Marcus looking at him challengingly over Percy's head leading to Oliver messing up his own tie and hair in an attempt to get attention too
Which does work because then Percy turns to him and exasperatedly fixes him too even if he's now a little peeved that neither of them seem to have taken this seriously before turning back towards the camera all the while the other two are glaring and flipping each other off before actually standing still for the photo
Point is this event is now what the new photo repeats over and over because I think its fun
46 notes · View notes
thefiery-phoenix · 5 days
Text
YANDERE OLIVER WOOD X SHY HUFFLEPUFF READER 
Tumblr media
You were Neville's older sister and you were sorted into the Hufflepuff house while your brother Neville was sorted into the Gryffindor house. The both of you were quite similar in terms of personality, both of you were shy yet friendly with those around you. Everyone loved to be around you because of your kind nature and friendly personality, you were a bit of an introvert compared to your brother and your friends liked to tease you about it but everyone around you adored your shy nature, they found it rather bashful. You were academically driven and had the will and focus to get good grades, you didn't spend hours and hours to study like Hermione but you were naturally good at academics since you absorbed the concepts in one go and preferred a practical based learning compared to rote memorization. You even managed to get into Snape's good graces the other day when you were working on how to make the Polyjuice potion, you followed the instructions to the T and brewed the perfect mixture that even Snape couldn't find fault with your skill and accuracy and just gave you a slight nod of his head in a begrudging manner to show his appreciation for you, making you one of the rare cases where he showed his admiration to someone who wasn't from his own house 
Of course, you and your brother were secretly terrified and nervous of him deep down but you were able to pull through, however Neville needed a bit more help in Potions and was always on the receiving end of his taunts and sarcastic remarks which made you feel bad for Neville whenever you'd see his flustered face with the expression on his face looking like he was on the verge of tears. You'd spend most of your time helping out Neville with Potions and of course, defending him against Malfoy and his goons. You didn't really like confronting people but if it was for the sake of your brother, you had to suck it up and deal with it. By no means you had nerves of steel nor were you fearless, you'd be nervous when you tell them to stay away from your brother while they laughed at you and made jokes at you and your brother's expense, making you regret your decision of trying to be a hero in the first place. You felt your eyes water slightly with the comments the other Slytherins from your own year made and you hated how pathetic you felt, you were supposed to be defending your brother and be the older sibling he could look up to for protection and guidance, instead the guilt ate through your mind as you silently cursed yourself for being pathetic and weak and failing Neville as an older sister till someone decided that enough was enough and that's when you met...Oliver...
"Oi...leave her alone, yeah?" spoke a deep voice from nearby as you turned around and spotted a guy who looked like he was in your year, he seemed somewhat familiar to you and yet you couldn't put a finger to it, you surveyed the brown haired guy dressed in the Gryffindor Quidditch robes and clutched his broom as his veins protruded slightly and his jaw was clenched, looking agitated as his eyes narrowed at the bunch of Slytherins in front of him. "What's it to you Wood? Get lost'' hollered Marcus as he leered at him and Oliver just glared at him as he looked around, trying to see if there were any professors or other students around the area before pulling out his wand and hexing them. "Um...thanks..'' you mumbled and fidgeted with the hem of your robes and you shot him a polite smile. "No problem, I've been wanting to do that for a while now anyway...'' chuckled Oliver slightly as he held out his hand and introduced himself to you. "The name's Oliver, Oliver Wood...the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team'' he said proudly as he shook your hand
The second he came in contact with your hand and held your hand, he was surprised by how soft and gentle it was, a stark contrast compared to his rough and calloused ones as he found it slightly endearing and part of him wanted to keep holding your hand for a bit longer. "I'm Y/N Longbottom..'' you replied and his eyes widened slightly. "Longbottom...could you be related to Neville in some way?" he asked you as you nodded. "I'm his sister'' you answered as he looked at you like you were a fascinating rock that dropped from the moon. "Well, that's surprising, never knew Neville had a sister...'' he mused and he surveyed your features. Something about him just fueled that desire in him to protect you, was it the way your hair strands fell in that beautiful face of yours or was it the way he felt like he was already getting the feeling of getting lost in your eyes or was it the way how flustered and bashful you were in front of him which made your mannerisms endearing to watch
Ever since that incident, he just can't seem to let go of you. He follows you around like a puppy, a guard dog to be exact, warding off anyone who dared to mess with you and as he spent more time with you, he found himself growing more attached to you and your shy nature which he couldn't get enough of. He loved the way your cheeks would get tinged with a red blush at times and hide your face in a book and mumble something incoherent whenever you felt flustered about something which made him want to see more of those reactions from you. Of course, his friends eventually got wind of his feelings for you and started teasing him about it, Fred and George took immense pleasure in mercilessly poking fun at him for which he'd immediately tell them to shut it with a slight blush on his face but he won't really deny it
Even your own friends are convinced that he fancies you and they like to tease you about it yet you don't really see the obvious signs of him liking you. "I swear to Merlin Y/N you're absolutely dense, he FANCIES you, you dummy'' said one of your friends with an exasperated sigh as you looked at her reproachfully. "No he doesn't, we're just friends, he invites me to see his Quidditch games and we study in the library together and we hang out at Honeydukes at times...he's also nice enough to ask me about my day and he likes holding hands with me for some reason but we're just friends...nothing more than that'' you replied as your friends around you groaned and made noises of protest of your naivete and threw a cushion at you 
Oliver feels like he can't control his feelings for you anymore, his mind is filled with thoughts regarding you, deep down he's worried and has the paranoia that someone could take advantage of your kindness and naivete which he wouldn't allow to happen at any cost, which was why he needed to ensure that he was always around you at all times. He even ended up changing his schedule just so he could be in the same classes as you and he felt his heart race against his chest whenever he felt your hand brush against his. He feels like he has the strength to fight the world for you, you're his pillar of strength, he wants to be your man and take care of you and provide for you. The other day you received a low score for Potions which was something you didn't expect and you felt quite sad about it which hurt his heart, he wanted to see you happy and when he saw tears prickling at the corner of those lotus shaped eyes of yours, he felt like his heart was sinking. He gently caressed your cheek with his palm and held you in his arms close to him and stroked your hair telling you that you did your best and it was all right and how he would always be there for you and the two of you spent the rest of the night with each other as he bought you your favorite sweets from Honeydukes 
There are times when his mind starts to wander as he thinks about how soft and lovely it would be to kiss your lips while he holds you, how he could be your protector, how beautiful you'd look being married to him and having a family with him...yep, he's that far gone and detached from reality already, imagining and thinking about a happy married life with you. The thought of you being someone else and someone else daring to kiss those lips of yours made him infuriated, it just made his blood boil to no end. You were HIS, at times he felt like just wrapping you in silk like the precious doll that you were for him and locking you in a room so other people won't be able to get to you. He'd never blame you for anything, it's those lousy pests around you that are looking forward to taint your innocence. He doesn't stalk you, he just...follows you around to keep you safe, Hogwarts is still a pretty dangerous place after all and the last thing he needs is for you, his beloved to get hurt 
He doesn't classify himself as someone who has rage issues but when he heard some Ravenclaw dudes talking about you inappropriately his mind went blank with fury and broke a lot of their bones and they had to spend a few months in the Hospital Wing. His reputation would also come into play here, why would someone ever suspect golden boy Oliver Wood, the star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team beating up and hexing people for no reason? It sounded unlikely didn't it? He isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty to ensure your happiness and safety, even if he has to get blood on his hands to make you be with him so be it. You're destined to be with him and he'd eliminate and get rid of anything and everything that would stand against his dream of the two of you being happily married to each other...
17 notes · View notes
cinnbar-bun · 5 months
Text
Mornings With You… (Crocodile x Reader)
Scenario: How they enjoy a morning with you~
Rating: SFW, pure utter fluff
Word Count: ~1.8k
Note: GN reader, fluff. MENA! Reader and MENA! Croc but basically ignorable honestly if you want. Reader and Croc smoke lmao.
A/n: You can rip Middle Eastern Crocodile from my cold dead hands I swear to GOD I do not care what anyone thinks THAT MAN IS MIDDLE EASTERN!! I AINT LISTENING TO ANYTHING ELSE!!! As a Middle Eastern woman, I just want to have this win. Just let me have it. Let me live in delusion. Let me pretend I am his housewife 😩
Breakfast was always an important part of the day for Crocodile. No matter the time, no matter the day, no matter the weather- he would always partake in breakfast with you. It didn’t matter if he would be late or miss a meeting, he would never skip out on his daily morning routine.
Today, unlike many other days before, he slept in. He had always dedicated this day of the week to you, and only you. If anyone had dared tried to interrupt this day with you, death would seem like a more sparing result than whatever hell he would unleash upon them.
Thankfully, no one was stupid enough to call him on his transponder, yet.
He scrunched his face as he recognized the sensation of the bright Alabastan sun beaming down on his face. He covered his eyes and noticed the window was open, the red curtains you had lovingly picked out fluttering with the gentle breeze. The palm trees outside were rustling as his thoughts drifted to the taste of the dates they often produced. He yawned and swung his legs over the bed, forcing himself up. He stood up and stretched, sighing dreamily as he smelled the scent of freshly baked bread.
He slid his feet into his soft house slippers while he threw on his satin robe, the one that had matched yours, as you insisted. Crocodile ran a hand through his hair, fixing many of the loose strands that had become unkempt after sleeping. He walked down the winding stairs of the large house. His eyes nostalgically glanced around the hallway and décor. Once upon a time, the hallway was barren, with nary even a rug on the floor.
But now, after marrying you, the house gradually became something entirely new- warmer, lovelier, lived in, and cared for. No longer was it simply a place he would crash at for the night, but a home. A home he had shared with you. Despite the many years it had been since the faithful day he had said “I do” at your ceremony, the fact his home had changed so much still would catch Crocodile off guard. On the wall, was a framed picture of you two in your wedding garb.
His lips twitched into a smile at the memory, as if that day were just yesterday. He didn’t look different, perhaps fewer wrinkles and gray hairs on his head, but his eyes were trained on you. You looked so beautiful that day, and the smile on your face made his heart race. You looked thrilled to be marrying him.
Crocodile chuckled to himself as he walked past the picture, stepping into the dining room that connected to the kitchen. You were there, plating olives in the wood trays you had gotten on one of your shopping trips. You glanced at him, smiling that beautiful smile that had him falling in love with you all over again.
“Habibi, good morning,” you greeted in your mother tongue, wiping your hands with a rag as you strode over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. His functional hand gripped your waist, swaying with you gently as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“It’s good because I see you, my love,” he replied, his voice still raspy from just waking up. You chuckled and kissed his nose, patting his shoulder a few times.
“Take a seat, breakfast is almost done,” you stated, and Crocodile complied by pulling out the wood chair to sit in. He watched as you went back to drying and plating the various olives you had bought yesterday from the market.
Once the tray was filled, you placed it in front of him and popped a pickled turnip in his mouth. He nodded agreeably as he chewed on the vegetable.
“Oh, these are sour,” he mused. The crunch of the turnips also showed how impressive this batch was.
“Mhm. Saleh’s crops have been wonderful right now,” you mention happily. “He also said he’s happy to set aside more for us for dinner next week. Oh, and before I forget, I need to visit his daughter soon. She just had her first child a while ago. Saleh was telling me it was a girl!”
Crocodile snorted. “Busy chatting it up as always?”
He was fascinated with how you managed to dazzle a room and become a friend to everyone. It did have many advantages in business, as many suppliers and partners had become friendly with you, enough to the point they would give him discounts or do special favors for him. But even beyond just business or how much easier your presence allowed him to get his goals achieved, he was amazed by how sociable you were. It was the complete opposite of how he behaved, often slinking to the background and watching below. But you? No, no, no, you were in the center of the room, chatting it up with a diplomat and a farmer as if they were long time friends.
He could watch you talk for hours, hear the stories of people he would never remember while you discussed their children with them. The laughs, the smiles, the curious looks, and even the short gasps at whatever one of his associates’ partners said to you- all of it was enthralling.
“Of course,” you laugh, placing a small oil cruet beside the vegetables. “You need to talk more, habibi, you can’t keep hiding away.”
He waved his hand. “No, you got that covered for me just fine. I doubt I could ever remember Saleh’s family tree. Tell his daughter congrats for me, will you?”
“I will, dear,” you say, stirring the contents in the pot. He sniffs the air.
“Foul?” He asks and you nod.
“Mhm.”
“What have I done to deserve you?” He dramatically asks. He grabs the furled-up newspaper by the table and is about to open it when you lightly hit his wrist with your spoon.
“No, no reading at the table. We’re going to eat!” You lectured.
“Fine, fine. No need for the violence,” he jokes, the both of you knowing damn well that little smack hardly did anything to him.
“Don’t be rude at breakfast and I will not need to do so,” you tease.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a smile. You respond by placing a plate of freshly baked pita bread and hummus with sumac and parsley on top. “My love, are you trying to fatten me up? Your bread is addicting.”
He takes one and tears it, dipping a piece into the hummus. He lets out a pleasured groan as he eats it.
“I swear to God, your food gets better every time.”
You press a kiss to his cheek. “Enjoy it, my love.”
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. He’s careful not to hurt the remains of his left arm, since he refuses to wear his hook in mornings with you. You gaze into his eyes, full of love, and he strokes your hair. You get more beautiful every day, in a way that he cannot help but fall helplessly on his knees for you.
You kiss him on his lips before standing up. “I’ll put you some foul,” you say, picking up his bowl and putting a dollop of hummus on the bottom of it. You scoop up the foul before crushing the legumes further for him. You put a bowl for yourself and walk to him, placing his bowl in front of him while sitting beside him.
He begins to put the vegetables he likes on top of it, as well as some oil and lemon juice, before he digs in. It’s always pleasant to eat with you. It makes his day brighter when he knows he can just focus on you today. He’s lost in your voice, hearing you talk on and on about anything and everything- something he finds so amusing and relaxing. It’s so different from hearing discussions of business for hours on end.
He pours himself more bowls of your delicious food, not even realizing how much he’s eaten until he realizes nearly all the hummus and bread have been eaten.
“That was wonderful, darling,” he says, clearing his throat. “Do you have enough time for a smoke break?”
“I do, in fact, have time for one.”
“I’ll go make the hookahs for us,” Crocodile says, forcing himself up and grabbing the hookahs.
“I’ll go pour us the tea,” you grin, heading to the whistling kettle. He stuffs the top with the flavored tobacco- guava and citrus for him, (flavor) for you. He wraps the top with tinfoil and pokes many little holes into it with a toothpick. As you settle into your living room couch, he fills the bottom with water and heats the charcoal up. He gently places yours in front of you as you begin to turn on the snail to project your show.
An Alabastan soap opera is playing, and you watch with full attention towards it while Crocodile grabs his newspaper and sits on the couch across from you. He picks up the tea you just brewed for him, noticing its dark complexion.
“Good, it’s dark,” he comments. You roll your eyes playfully and click your tongue.
“Don’t drink it so dark like an old man, habibi. Not even my own grandfather drinks it as dark as you.”
“I find that hard to believe. Everybody knows a good chai is dark,” Crocodile retorts.
“Any darker and you might as well just eat the leaves itself.”
“Would you like any tea with your sugar?” He teases back.
“Fine. You go behave like a grandfather,” you chuckle, putting the hose of the hookah between your lips.
“You married me,” he reminds you. You exhale a puff of tobacco, your eyes glued to the projection. A male character comes on screen, talking to the female lead. You sigh and click your tongue again, this time from disappointment.
“This man, again? I can’t believe she even gives him the time of day. Eat shit!” You yell at the screen.
Crocodile raises a brow at you and laughs.
“What’s wrong with him? Why do you hate him so much?”
“Womanizing garbage,” you explain. “He went for her sister while he was trying to court her. And God forbid he take accountability when called out!”
Crocodile glances at the projection, watching as the man looks longingly at the female lead’s sister. “Could he be any more obvious?”
You two laugh as he goes back to reading his paper and smoking. You take a sip of your tea, not noticing how Crocodile’s eyes shift towards you. He lets out a quiet sigh in relaxation while you are engrossed in your show.
He thinks to himself once more how he adores those slow and loving mornings with you.
230 notes · View notes
mors-mvrdre · 11 months
Text
highlights
content warning: sexual innuendo / 16+ recommended.
listened to behind the wand and goblet of wine's draigcon podcast with chris rankin today -- here are some highlights (roughly transcribed):
auditioning
"Alright, I'm too old for the main characters, because they're looking for 11/12 year olds and I'm like. 16. And as a 16 year old school prefect in real life, who do I have the highest chance of being cast as? And I thought: Nobody's going to want Percy. So I went for Percy."
casting Penelope for CoS
"They had me help cast Penelope! So they basically took a socially awkward, 17yo spotty ginger kid and went and let him choose a girlfriend. It was basically like, 'So, which one do you like, Chris?'"
filming CoS (paraphrased)
apparently there was actual discussion on set about the logistics of "What was Gryffindor Prefect Percy Weasley doing in the Slytherin dungeons? Surely it would make more sense for him to be patrolling near his Common Room", and it just delved into jokes about how in the books when Ron and Harry go to the dungeons to find Draco they come across a blonde Ravenclaw (cough cough penny) not 5 minutes before they come across Percy, and then Draco says something like "yeah, he's down here a lot", which to me is just-- pfffffffffft HAHAHA
FANFICTION
Chris: Have I read Percy fic? Yes. Podcast: Do you wish you hadn't? Chris: Uhhh, it's been a while, if I'm honest. But there were some wonderful Percy/Oliver ones. Chris: And I say wonderful in the sense that I found them absolutely hilarious, and Sean Biggerstaff finds them just... deeply disturbing, and really quite worrying.
the misunderstanding (innuendo is here)
Random listener: If Percy went to a pub on a friday night, what do you think he'd order? Chris: I thought you said "if Percy went to a park on a friday night"(laughing) That would be a whole other scenario! "What would Percy be doing at a park on a friday night?" Chris, singson: Slash Fiction time~~ Oliver's wood. (table proceeds to die laughing)
actual answer: I think a gin and tonic? He's got a 1920s vibe.
cauldron leaks
Podcast: Any other topics you want to talk/discuss about Percy? Chris, in a very posh and haughty tone: cAuLdRon BoTtOms
74 notes · View notes
rip-us-xoxo · 1 year
Text
MASTERLIST for💜New Account Celebration!💜(CLOSED)
Tumblr media
I thought I would do a little celebration to get back in the swing of things! And since I love purple, it’s purple themed!
Works from this Celebration:
fluff- ^
angst- *
smut- ~
Slut * (Lip Gallagher)
First kiss ^ (Lip Gallagher)
Tickle fight with Fred ^ (Fred Weasley)
Lollipop ^ (Fred Weasley)
Reader straightening her hair ^ (James Potter)
"Studying" with Remus ~ (Remus Lupin)
Mulberry with Harry (Harry Potter)
~~~~~~~~~
You can either private message me or send your request in my ask box!
Lavender- Send a character and a scenario and I’ll write a blurb about it!
Mulberry- Send me a character and I’ll choose three songs that make me think of them!
Mauve- Choose a character and 1 or 2 prompts from the prompt list and I’ll write a fic!
Prompt list
“Love is not about possession, love is about appreciation”
“Please, no, no, no!”
“Why are you out here?” “The rain hides my tears.”
“You look so cute right now, c’mere”
“I still remember our first kiss” “Yeah, because it was like 5 minutes ago”
“You know damn well why I’m here”
“Say something, please, I can’t do this anymore!”
“You’re my addiction”
“I licked it, so it’s mine”
“You’re so hot, it burns"
Who I write for:
Harry Potter-
Harry Potter
Oliver Wood
Ron Weasley
Neville Longbottom
Draco Malfoy
Fred Weasley
George Weasley
Young!Sirius Black
Young!Remus Lupin
Young!James Potter
Outer Banks-
JJ Maybank
Rafe Cameron
Stranger Things-
Eddie Munson
Steve Harrington
Shameless-
Lip Gallagher
West Side Story-
Riff
Top Gun: Maverick-
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw
Jake "Hangman" Seresin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
xoxo
76 notes · View notes
butterbeerblurbs · 2 years
Text
you were always number one (f.w.)
💌: in fred’s heart, you were always number one–if only he acted like it in the first place, none of this would’ve happened.  📝 word count: 3,130 words / fred weasley x reader / ☔️🌸 angst to fluff 💬: this is heavily inspired by hermione and ron’s situation at the yule ball! written for our fave freddie >:) i wrote this a bit differently, hopefully you guys enjoy it as much as i did writing it!  🎧: astronomy - conan gray [this version]
Tumblr media
fred knew in his heart of hearts this wasn’t what he wanted. in his mind, things panned out much differently. he had the imagery of a fairytale-like scenario to unfold; you would walk down the steps in your beautiful dress, headed towards his arms to walk into the yule ball together. you would dance the night away, in his embrace as he made you laugh and you’d for sure make fun of his corsage but appreciate that he put in so much thought to match the colour of your dress, the beauty of your smile.
instead... the two of you are now standing outside in the open, grass beneath your feet. the ballroom behind fred, the trees behind you. fred’s stammering terribly over his words at the sight of you crying in front of him. 
let’s... take it back a couple of beats.
thump. it’s the week before the yule ball. while the glamour falls upon the triwizards, especially having four than the usual three, it’s all the hype and buzz. for those who weren’t involved, the excitement for the yule ball takes the full swing.
you’re excited. beyond ecstatic at the thought of... of... your train of thought takes a break as you watch your fantasised date... asking angelina johnson to be his date.
thump, thump. it’s five days before the yule ball. dateless. well, not until a good friend occupies the space across from you. instinctively, you look up and–”ollie?”
“mind if i join ya?” oliver grins, already getting comfortable as he crosses his leg on the grass. you snort, closing your book on your lap as one of your stretched legs reach to kick his side, “you’re already joining me before you ask.”
“then i guess it’s natural for me to lead into asking if you would like to join me to the yule ball?”
ollie’s waving a hand in front of your face, smiling despite your confused face.
“m-me?” gulp. blink. “you can’t possibly–”
“what? you don’t fancy me?”
“ollie, that’s not what i meant–”
“you’ll go with me, then?”
“i–well–”
“as my best mate?”
you take the biggest sigh. this boy nearly gave you a fright. you didn’t have the emotional capacity to wonder if he actually had a crush on you but seeing that playful glint in his eyes, oliver wood’s had a knack for messing with you. maybe that’s why you two were best friends. speaking of...
“you nearly gave me a heart attack, ollie! maybe start off with that sentence, next time!”
“oh, so there’s a next time, then?” ollie taunts, hurriedly getting up from the ground and he’s bolting for it when he can tell you’re about to smack him in the head. or kick him some place where it hurts.
“get back here!”
“will you give me your hand for the taking, then?!”
“fine! just let me hit you first!”
“alright, c’mere!” oliver swiftly turns around and catches you to fall onto the ground. despite the onslaught of hitting that oliver takes to the chest, the both of you soon laugh after, excited to go as best friends just to have a good time. you weren’t going to lie, it made you feel a lot better knowing you would be having a fun night with someone who cared about you. you can see it in oliver’s eyes but what you couldn’t see was the pair of brown ones watching from a distance, pained.
thump, thump, thump. two days before the yule ball. the chair in front of you is being pulled out in the quiet of the library. looking up, it’s–”freddie...”
“you’re one tough cookie to find, y/n.” the ginger head chuckles as he settles down, glancing to your notes before back up to your face. you blink at him a couple of times before managing a smile. you can’t quite decipher the look in his eyes and... neither can fred. on his end, he has no idea what he’s doing. he doesn’t know if this was him being impulsive or if he had calculated what to do, what to say.
being here in front of you, he felt at ease but... he felt nervous.
nervous with what he’s about to ask.
"could i ask you something?”
you nod.
“say... do you have a date to the yule ball?”
you nod again. he playfully huffs.
“what? not gonna let me hear your voice, now?”
you won’t admit it but fred’s nature made you feel less tensed. it makes you chuckle out of habit. feeling a little at ease.
“yes, mr. fred weasley. i have a date. as do you, i assume?”
he frowns, “what’d you mean?”
“you’re going with angelina, right?” 
fred failed to hold back his thoughts, quickly chipping back: “and you seem excited to go with ollie, i assume?” at his words, though you have nothing to hide, it makes you hang your head low as you avoid his gaze. he carefully shifts forward, trying to lean down to get a glimpse of your eyes. “are you?”
“what does it matter, anyway?”
fred lets out a sigh.
“so... you weren’t gonna take up my offer?”
that makes you furrow your brows. he sees you’ve forgotten. he doesn’t remind you verbally but somehow looking into his eyes, his words echo in your mind. the reminder that if the two of you didn’t have dates, he offered to go with you. 
surprisingly–not–it strikes a chord in your chest. painfully strumming on your heartstrings. as if this was a joke. as if your... your feelings were a joke. that’s what it felt like. fred watches as the look in your eyes change. the shift scares him. not knowing what was about to hit him.
“is that all i am to you, then?” you sounded sad, so sad. fred can’t pick up the hint quick enough, can’t find the words to reply with when you’ve pinned him down with: “am i just a last resort to you?”
fred gapes, eyes widening at the implication even if... even if he... even...
he only processes what’s happening when you’ve quickly packed up your things and you’ve made a move to stand. panicking, he reaches across the table to grab onto your wrist, having a couple of seconds rooting you in place when you gaze down. how tight he’s hold onto you, wanting to make things right even though he didn’t know how. 
fred watches as you remove your hand from his grasp, bidding him goodnight and leaving the library. he doesn’t know how badly he’s messed up until you’re far away.
thump, thump, thump, thump. ten minutes before the yule ball began. dates were uniting at the bottom of the staircase, by the entrance of the huge doors. fred’s nervous for the wrong reasons. angelina’s trying to calm his nerves down, ushering him things will be alright, they’ll fall into place; they always have for you. for fred. it’s just... a small bump in the road.
angelina’s gasp is what reels fred to gaze towards the stairs, where his breath gets caught in his throat watching you begin to descend the stairs. it’s a pretty colour on you (anything on you looks beautiful), your hair with tiny accompanying flowers pinned to your locks and... and you’re... walking towards oliver wood who has a matching corsage tucked into his coat pocket.
fred’s still mindful of angelina, turning back to her but she gives him a nudge towards your direction. whispering a soft it’s okay, go! when he does build up the courage, all you do is pass him by, another guy hooked onto you as you head in.
thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. it’s almost the end of the yule ball and oliver’s no fool. past the attempts of trying to forget, oliver’s still a good friend who can read you like the back of his hand. he lures you to the side and gets you a drink, a breather, a thank you when you look into his eyes and he knows.
“you’re gonna want to head out for a bit,” oliver murmurs past the music growing softer, mellow dance music starts to fill the ballroom and you nod. even though you know you’ve held a tough front, it’s still so hard. you’ve been dreaming of the yule ball since... since chatters and rumors filled the hallways of what if’s and who’s going with who began. the playful push and pull you and fred had... or what you thought you had... it was driving you mad.
“i’ll be back later, okay?”
oliver nods, easing the glass cup away from your hands so you can step out to take a breather. he watches as you walk along the sides and find a door to step out towards the grass and head towards the trees on the field. when he gazes back to the dance floor, he swears he sees a flash of ginger darting across and he just knows you’re not alone out there.
thump, thump, thump... sniff, muffled liveliness from the ballroom, heavy breathing... fred stands a couple of steps from you, watching as the tears fall from your eyes and your desperate attempts to stop crying. he hates how you still look breathtaking with the beauty of nature enveloping you, a gorgeous backdrop. you... you hate in your guts how your stomach somersaults at the sight of fred out here with you, the sight of the ballroom and twinkling lights behind him like a bokeh effect.
yet, you felt pathetic. you felt... a lot of things, being in this moment with him.
“are... are you alright?” fred knows it’s a weak and feeble attempt but he’s trying.
you don’t answer immediately. taking the time to breathe, to blink away the hot tears stinging your eyes, wiping your face with the back of your hand before you can glare at him to ask: “what does it have to do with you?”
perhaps it’s well-deserved. perhaps... he should’ve seen it coming. perhaps... fred weasley was simply in denial. in denial he could feel this much for a person, that maybe he was in it alone. that maybe, maybe selfishly, he was testing the waters so he wasn’t the only one who fell hard, alone.
“i care about you. i... i always have and–”
“then why?”
fred’s stumped again, shaking his head as a sign he doesn’t follow.
“why would you treat me like a last resort?”
at your words, fred’s furious. furious at the implications he’s mistakenly allowed you to assume. everything comes crashing down so fast, fred hadn’t realised he’s speaking before his mind stops him.
“you’re not!” his voice is louder than usual. he notices when you flinch, but the anger has gone to his head. he can’t stop now. “you were number one–the only one–you and only you.”
“you didn’t ask me!”
“i didn’t know you would go with ollie!”
he knows he’s hit the wrong nail when your face contorts with confusion. you visibly try to suck the tears in as you turn on your heels, willing to run from him. he watches as your hands grip onto your dress to lift the fabric up, body half-way turned from him. his heart stops, mind going blank; cold, static starts to ring in his ears to do something, fred weasley. 
he’s allowed you to escape once. he’s not about to let it happen again.
just as you face the sea of trees ahead of you, you manage to take a couple of big steps to create a distance between you and fred, the arms that envelope you in holds you in place. literally... maybe... emotionally, too. the sound of surprise leaves your lips, a choked breath, the tears still trickling down as you slowly look down to see fred’s arms around you.
when you don’t shuffle away but instead lean into his embrace, fred lets out a shaky exhale and first whispers: “i’m sorry.” at your silence, fred feels like it’s an admission to listening to what he has to say. he feels you shaking in his grasp but... somehow moulding against him as your eyes flutter shut, breathing evening out past the sniffles and possibly blocked nose. he takes this opportunity to start talking.
“i... it’s going to sound absolutely shit but i asked angelina out because i was afraid to ask you.” he feels your body tensing–within good reason–but you don’t interrupt. your hands, gently placed over his covered arms around you, giving a small squeeze for him to continue. so he does. “i was afraid. afraid that you wouldn’t see me the way i see you and it’s... it’s such a coward move but i did it anyway.”
fred’s able to turn his cheek, just a little to get a glimpse of your side profile. even more of your face is revealed to him when you try to have a look at him, softly asking: “w-what about angelina?”
he sighs at you, “could you stop worrying about other people for a few minutes? you’re always so worried about the people around you that you–”fred stops in his tracks when you look away from him, huffing. it’s like you know what he said without him saying it.
with a deep breath out, fred retreats his arms from you to carefully turn you around. when you oblige and keep your eyes glued to his chest, fred gently grabs ahold of your hands. they come within your peripheral, admiring the way your hands fit in his so... so naturally. fred brushes the back of your hands with his thumbs, and it takes you a couple of seconds to realise he’s speaking.
“i’m so sorry for the way i’ve made you feel. and i’m sorry for giving you the impression that i thought no one would go to the yule ball with you. that would be mental considering i thought nearly half the castle would’ve asked you out.” fred only chuckles when you lightly kick his shin, well-aware of his jokes but you know fred genuinely thinks that based on his tone. over the years there had been one or two admirers but nothing more. they were just... admirers–reaffirming the one you wanted to be with was the same one holding onto your hands.
“i would like to redo my chance with you, if you’ll let me.”
fred can’t believe you have the nerve to be this adorable at a time like this because all you can think about is: “now?” your voice gives out to a soft crack, almost like a whine, "my makeup’s... i look ugly now...”
he scoffs a laugh, using one of his hands to cup your cheeks to brush away the couple of tears on your face. soon, he’s easing away the frown with a thumb that gently pokes the corner of your mouth. “you’d have to be mad to think i don’t think you look stunning. whether you have mascara or–what is that called–whatever that’s staining your face–”he ignores you when you gasp i have a stain on my face?”–because you could be dressed up in feathers and i’d still think you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve seen.”
you give him an answer with the way you lean into his palm, eyes lingering on his before they flutter shut. your erratic heart calms, the nerves eases ever so slightly when fred leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. almost immediately, it grants you to open your eyes and your heart somersaults when fred’s on one knee, a rose in his hand as he gazes up to you.
“y/n y/l/n, would you do me the honours and go to the yule ball with me?”
fred doesn’t poke fun at you with the tears welling in your eyes and the small frown on your face that still does nothing to your beauty. with the moonlight casting down on you and the angle fred looks up to, you look like an angel. cruelly holding him captive without trying, hooked around your fingers without effort.
you sniff, lightly wiggling your hand in his grip, the other nervously grasping your dress, “it’s almost the end of the night...”
“means there’s still time,” he grins, shaking your hand gently, “c’mon now, i’m not getting up until you give me an answer...”
fred knows you can’t wait long, especially when he’s down on one knee. he watches you debate on testing him but he knows you too well. too well that he’s rising to his feet the second you whisper of course i would. he allows you to accept the rose from his hand, only to maneuver your arms to put them around his waist where you’re able to admire the rose from over his shoulder as he tucks you into his embrace.
the silent of the night accompanies the pair of you, the glow of the moon and the muffled music from the ballroom behind. he’s aware that this isn’t him getting off the hook just yet (and he plans to make it up to you) but right now, with your head resting by his neck, arms loosely hugging him as you two quietly sway to the music you two can barely hear, fred wants to make the most of it as he closes his eyes and feel your warmth against him.
it might’ve not been the way he thought yule ball would’ve gone down but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world even if it was just the last ten minutes with you.
((”you would think he’d have it in him to ask her in the first place,” angelina chuckles, with oliver in tow as her ‘new’ date.
“eh, good to know fred’s got one weakness.”
“d’you think we should tell the others?”
oliver thinks about it as he watches you at ease in fred’s arms. eyes fluttered shut, peaceful. for the first time, fred looks like he’s the calmest as he could be and oliver feels this kind of radiating warmth from within; two of his good friends, finally where they should be despite... a couple of bumps on the road. it seems like angelina knows oliver’s answer in his silence... that his vocal answer comes later to solidify her assumptions.
“nah, we’ll let them figure it out on their own. doesn’t look like it’s gonna take long for them to break the news.”
on cue, fred manages to spot the two of them from a distance. his shit-eating grin comes to view but it doesn’t faze oliver or angelina, only bringing out chuckles as fred playfully waves. when you notice something odd, fred plays it off by easily turning you around to avoid their gazes.
“cheeky prat.” angelina scoffs.
“as if you expected anything different.” oliver snorts.))
462 notes · View notes
finnickyslut · 2 months
Note
*jingling an empty bowl* can I please have more truth-warping AU please?
Oh, god! Thank you for the interest, nonnie.
... I'm wholly unprepared for this.😳😬
This whole au has consisted basically in an idiotic amount of research (divorce in the UK during the 80s, Merseyside, air ambulance in the UK in 2007, overdose symptoms, treatment and survival window, and on it goes) and an even more ridiculous amount of me creating a choose your own adventure for any and every scene because I'm a scatterbrain. 😅
So! I'm going to try to focus on one thing (let's say the maze + overdose part) but let me preemptively apologize for any rambling, digressing etc.
...
One thing that was clear to me is that the maze scene needed to happen basically the same up to "you make my blood run cold" because it's what leads Oliver to the abyss. (And for a later scene in the hospital, but that's for another occassion.)
Apart from that, I thought several options would make sense and be interesting.
In scenario A, Oliver reaches the conclusion that Felix is upset because fake drama is unfulfilling and doesn't let him be the hero for real, so he just has to give him a real issue. Cue Oliver adulterating the bottle for himself and drinking enough to hopefully give Felix something pathetic enough to really chew on or a chance to save the day.
Here, the agitation/aggressiveness, labored breathing, paleness, and vomiting are early signs of overdosing, and Felix may take a small swig of the concotion but gets it taken off him soon enough. The background is different but the whole scene is almost identical except Oliver leaves the center of the maze with the bottle.
Otherwise, Oliver poisons the bottle because the only thing he knows is if his apology goes wrong there's no way both of them can leave the maze alive (that's actually part of what prompted this AU, the thesis that the inevitable end in the face of rejection wasn't necessarily Felix's death, but Oliver doing something extreme to one or both of them.)
With how definitive Felix's rejection feels, he decides he may as well put himself out of his misery.
He pushes himself off Felix, takes a long gulp while staring defiantly (reflecting on it later on, Felix will realize Oliver was actually taking him in for what he thought would be the last time), maybe makes a scorned comment, and leaves.
I'm any scenario, Felix takes a moment to calm himself (let's say 15 min), goes to take the easy way out, realizes Oliver went a different way, and something makes him take that path too.
He finds Oliver passed out and the bottle on its side. He looks terribly clammy, is unresponsive and something's wrong with his pulse .
Felix Takes him in his arms and gets out of maze as fast as possible. Goes looking for Duncan (Duncan always knows what to do and misteriously appears whenever he's needed). They call emergency services.
(At this point I pondered if the Cattons wouldn't have had med tent and discarded the notion because they're fabulously rich AND fabulously unprepared for things not going precisely their way.)
Btw, very conveniently for me and for Felix's chances on getting to ride with Oliver, it seems that the UK didn't have a night service for air ambulances back then.
Duncan and Felix follow directions from dispatch and decide to take care of things themselves because God forbid the party gets ruined (priorities!). Normally it's not advised to try  to meet the ambulance along the way, but in this case, because Saltburn is pretty out of the way and has the gates and all, Duncan drives Oliver and Felix to the intersection with the main road.
At this point Felix is perturbed, distressed, and genuinely worried for Oliver, but his white knight streak is chomping at the bit, too. He needs to see this to the end, make sure both that Oliver gets out of the woods and that Oliver's family knows how deeply unwell he is and gets him some help.
Either they let him go in the ambulance because he was with the patient shortly before he went downhill and can give them details (Felix knows Oliver seemed mostly sober a couple hours ago at candle blowing and had certain symptoms less than 30 min before the call but was conscious. He suspects cocaine too because of traces in the bottle) orrrrr he conveniently mentions he may have drunk from the same bottle and potentially be patient 2.
Annnddd end scene.
Hopefully that was some of what you were curious about, but feel free to ask more, though I can't promise I'll know everything. As I said, this has just been bouncing aimlessly inside my skull. 🙈
Thanks again for your ask! 🤗
9 notes · View notes
acourtofsmut · 2 years
Text
part 1: when two stars collide
nova & nyx
Pairings: OC!Female Half-human/Half-Illyrian x Adult!Nyx
Warnings: (NSFW) suggestive language, mention of death of a parent, mention of emotional abuse, pet names (little star, little one, poor little thing), smut, lots and lots of teasing foreplay, wing play, thigh riding, nipple play, size kink vibes, dom/sub vibes
Summary: Nova meets Nyx for the first time (and smut ensues).
A/N: Hello folks, I’ve been dreaming up this scenario and character for months. About two months ago, I wrote this to get it off my chest, and I stumbled upon it recently. I’ve spiffed it up for you all. To be honest, I did not edit this thoroughly… I skimmed it and said, “that’s good enough.” I could sit here for hours and hours trying to make this perfect, but that’s not my goal. My goal here is not to make a perfect plot-filled fanfic, more so to paint a picture of the love story Nova and Nyx that I have been daydreaming about. Things may not be in chronological order, so please bear with the errors and inconsistencies. I envision it as a collection of one-shots/drabbles that highlight their story. However, the first one is wicked long, so I apologize in advance. I’m so excited and nervous…I hope y’all enjoy 😊 Please show your love and reblog!
Word Count: 6,019
I was flying. My wings outstretched and flapped with strength that propelled me forward. A smile was plastered to my face as the wind whipped against my face; my waist-length, light brown hair trailed behind me. I have never felt so free. So light. So me. The moon glowed brightly, casting a warming light on my wings making them look translucent. The blues and purples of the veins visible beneath the white skin. Suspended in the night sky. Higher and higher. Lighter and lighter. I never wanted it to stop. Blissfully sailing among the clouds. I reached out and grabbed a star cupping it in my hands. It didn’t burn, but its warmth felt like a soothing salve. The light quickly dissolves into my palms. As I danced through the sky, starlight seeped out from my fingers twirling up my arms and around my wings, leaving a trail of stardust in my wake. Peering over my shoulder, the night sky spread out behind me. Behind a wispy cloud, blinked a pair of eyes. Beautiful, eyes speckled with stardust. There was a glint of controlled chaos swirling from within. Those starry eyes twinkled, embracing me in their darkness. Giving me their undivided attention, I did not shy away. Rather, I basked in their gaze feeling completely and comfortably seen. Like, the being behind those eyes could see straight into my soul, my psyche without it seeming like an invasion of privacy. It was surely welcomed. In the night sky, those eyes looked ethereal; unforgettable. I could feel that our time was coming to an end, but wanted nothing more than to be suspended within the night sky under the gaze of those eyes made of stardust and chaos. As they winked shut, the ground seemed to fall from beneath my feet. My wings no longer worked as some invisible force tugged me down. I was falling. Down. Down. Down. Into the darkness. I jolted awake.
The sun crept up the Illyrian Mountains. As the night sky met the morning sun, dawn cast a warm orangey glow upon the Windhaven Camp. I had been up for a while now, just laying in bed thinking about those stardusted eyes. I’ve been having that dream for a while now. Always the exact same sequence of events. Always left thinking about those eyes. Longing for the next time to see them.
When the warmth caressed my face, I rolled out of bed. Cold. I shivered, as my toes hit the freezing floor. Too tired to pick them up, the bottom of my wings dragged behind me. I hissed going to feed more wood into the fire. As soon as I had dressed myself in a simple olive dress and filled my belly with some warm honeyed oats, I trudged down the steps and into the store below. My bookstore. My pride and joy, finally.
About two years ago, my father’s drinking caught up to him and within a few months, he passed. I’m not ashamed to say I was relieved. No more flinching when he raised his hand or demanded a refill. No more dealing with a toxically egotistical Illyrian male. No more hurtful words. No hiding in the back of the store.
“You’re wings are a disgrace. Fucking ugly. Stay out of sight so nobody has to see them!” he would constantly remind me whenever I ventured out from the back of the store.
Since he passed, customers had stopped coming to the store because of what I am. I’m half-human. My mother was human. A ray of sunlight on this cold, brutal mountain. Or, so I was told. I never met her… she died during childbirth. Because of me. Her body wasn’t made to birth a winged-child. My father had hoped, prayed that I would be born without them. On the other hand, my mother didn’t seem to care. There was always a chance that she couldn’t have survived the birthing process, she had just hoped that I was healthy.
As she pushed and pushed, there was so much blood. Too much. And, my Dad never let me forget that.
The only memory I have of her is her voice. “She’s blessed by Aether,” she whispered in admiration looking at my little, white wings, “Call her Nova… my bright star.” And, then, her voice faded.
My wings.
My mother loved them, but they had taken her from me.
I sighed coming back to reality. I grabbed a book, my coffee, and settled into the worn chair towards the back of the store. The seat was hidden behind some shelves yet allowed me to see the door through the small spaces between the books.
Contentedly, I stared at the cover taking a sip of the rich coffee. Midnight Pleasure. My love life was severely lacking. When I say severely lacking, truly, I mean nonexistent. Never existed ever. Nothing. Probably due to a combination of my introversion, my wings, and the fact that I haven’t ever found anyone attractive except for the love interests in my books. It is difficult to come by an Illyrian males whose personality is agreeable and is attractive. The heated kisses, longing stares, passionate lovemaking… and, even more dirty things that made my cheeks heat. First kiss… at 24, I had never even been kissed before. I wasn’t ashamed. I only was curious which is the reason I continued to live vicariously through smutty, romance novels.
Creeeek!
I lifted my eyes towards the door. Still hidden behind the bookshelves, I assessed the customer. A male I did not recognize had stopped just at the threshold of the room. Just his presence emanated power, my chest started to tingle almost like there were butterflies trying to tickle me from the inside.
His clothing showing off his muscled figure. Black combat boots beneath Illyrian leathers that hugged his muscled thighs. My eyes lingered a little bit too long where the leathers bulged at the apex of his long legs. My eyes still making their up his body. Along his arms were black, swirled tattoos. The tattoos travelled to his fingers on his right hand. Those long fingers settled on the hilt of a gorgeous sword slung around his tapered waist. Upon his shoulders perched enormous black wings which spread out a bit as my eyes glazed over them. He wore a deep v-neck shirt that exposed a glowing olive-toned chest. His jaw and nose were sculpted by the gods. His plump lips were parted just slightly showcasing perfectly white teeth. The corner of his devilishly handsome mouth quirked upwards. Long silky, black hair brushed the tops of his shoulder. One side tucked behind a beautifully pointed ear. And, those eyes.
I swallowed deeply as my mouth dried, my heartbeat picking up a bit. I stepped out from behind the bookshelves and approached.
His eyes were a deep violet, speckled with stardust swirling with night and chaos.
My heartbeat skipped. An exact replica of the eyes in my dream. His stare so intense that I could feel the heat rising to my face. It was like I could feel the blood pumping through every vein in my body. No one had ever made my body respond like this.
“Hello there, little star,” his legs moved soundlessly with preternatural grace, and he approached the counter that I stood behind.
Only then did I realize how massive he was. My face was level with his chest. And, oh gods, up close, his eyes were even more captivating. I could feel his dark power enveloping me. And, that scent. Have mercy… that smokey scent filled my nose with sea salt and ripe pears. An oh-so-sweet musk. Oh great, now I’m drooling. Okay, get your shit together. Stop staring. Say something.
“Hi,” I murmured breathlessly and blinked my dark blue eyes up at him slowly.
“What’s your name?” he said barely tilted his to the side. The corner of his lip quirking up again in that slight smirk.
Frozen. I was frozen. He was devastatingly handsome. And, he seemed to be admiring me. His eyes snagging a bit longer on my wings. No trace of pity or disgust detected upon his face. It looked more like he was gazing at a masterpiece. My heart skipped a beat… his eyes finally captured mine.
“It’s Nova,” I softly said, my wings tucked themselves in a bit more.
“Beautiful…” he murmured under his breath, his wings mimicking mine.
“I’m Nyx,” he purred, his voice feline.
Finally, my mind started to clear from his stunning appearance. Still flustered, my heartbeat evened out, yet remaining slightly faster than normal. I couldn’t believe that he was actually real. Maybe I was still dreaming… yeah, that would make more sense than this.
Interrupting my thoughts, he began, “I was actually looking for a book… Emerie told me to swing by this place, she’s a family friend.”
“Oh,” I coughed, flustered, “Well, I have books.”
Stupid. Gods. I have books? Well, duh this is a bookstore. I mentally berated my stupid response.
“What are you looking for?” I added quickly.
“What do you recommend? What about that one?” he asked and pointed at the book I was still clutching in my hands.
“Umm… I don’t think you would like this one,” my cheeks heated, and I went to stuff it in one the counter drawers, out of sight. Before I could, his arm audaciously shot over the counter snatching the book from hand. My breath caught as I watched him turn to look at the cover. He let a short chuckle, smirking.
“Midnight Pleasure,” he mused, and I took the opportunity to snatch the book back, “I would never have pegged a lady like you as a reader of erotica…” he teased.
“It’s a… romance novel!” I searched for the words a little too long and his grin widened.
“I like romance novels. I think I’ll take that one.”
“It’s… uh… not for sale. Plus, I’m still reading it.” His gaze travelled across my face, lingering on the apples of my reddened cheeks.
Most people probably found his presence terrifying. His sheer dark power radiating through the room. But, I let the darkness embrace me as it did in my dreams like a wool blanket. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as they darkened a bit becoming more chaotic.
“Would you care to lend it to me? Once you’re finished, of course.”
A seed of defiance sprouted in my stomach; my eyes narrowed, and I scoffed. He was enjoying this. I could tell. He was enjoying flustering me. And, I liked it. I needed to put space between us. Some distance. I stepped back, ringing my hands together.
“Possibly… as long as we stop talking about romance novels.”
He smiled softly, like he had won.
He was never getting that book.
His eyes flickered, remembering something, “Actually, I did come here looking for something in particular…” he said.
My brows furrowed in confusion. This is a bookstore, if he didn’t come looking for a book, then what was he here for?
Nyx’s eyes perused some titles on the shelf beside him.
“You, my little star… I came looking for you.”
I failed to hide my surprise feeling like the floor was being ripped out from underneath me.
“But… why? We don’t know each other.”
“I think we both know that’s untrue, Nova,” the way he said my name made something in my chest start tingling.
He couldn’t know… about the dream. Could he?
Again, as if he could read my mind, he offered, “You’re the little star with white wings dancing across my night sky.”
Stunned and confused, my mouth dropped open like a fish. His words caused that incessant tingling in my chest to intensify.
“You’re even more beautiful in real life,” he admitted, “although, I didn’t except you to be such a little thing,” he teased.
“You’re just an overgrown male,” I retorted softly.
“Avery powerful and handsome overgrown male.”
I scoffed.
“And, egotistical.”
“You didn’t deny it.”
“Deny what?”
“That you find me attractive.” He teased.
Again, with the teasing. He thrived off of it, eyes glistening with a challenge. Well, there was no use in denying it. I did find him attractive. Very attractive, but also frustrating.
I rolled my eyes at his antics. There were more pressing manners… like why were we having dreams of each other?!
“What does this mean… you know, that we dream of each other?” I tentatively questioned.
He gave me a long look, brows furrowed slightly. Opening his mouth to say something, he closed it quickly. His eyes shown with worry. My chest tingled with the urge to reassure him, comfort him.
“Just tell me.”
“I don’t want to scare you off,” he admitted, looking down.
“I don’t scare easily. I promise.”
“What do you feel…” his hand came up to place two finger in the center of my chest, “…right here?”
As soon as he touched me, it was like an electric surge through my body. My toes curled as my breath caught, startled. His hand jerked backwards like he had felt it too. Like a bungee jump, something pulled at my chest. I felt it now. A tether connecting the both of us. Reaching out for it, I felt like I was falling for a short second, suspended in the air.
His eyes darkened, those starry eyes twinkled and embraced me in their darkness., “… mates, Nova. It means were mates.”
I felt dizzy. Nyx’s hands went to support my waist. Just as his fingers wrapped around my hips, the tether snapped taught. Yes, I understood what all this meant now.
A primal feeling rose from deep within me. My heartbeat faltering a bit as if its falling in sync with another. Mine. My mate. A mate. I have a mate.
“Mates…” I said breathlessly, my eyes growing slightly bigger. Failing to hide my unease, Nyx seems to be extremely observant. He steps out of my reach to give me space I assume. However, all that does is leave me unsupported, quickly, I feel like I might faint.
I feel Nyx’s hands circle my waist and guide me to kneel on the ground. Instinctively, my hands shoot out forward to ground myself. I hang my head low to alleviate the rushing sensation from crouching.
“Breathe with me, my little star,” he takes my hand and places it on his chest. Each breathe he takes expands his chest out a bit. He wants me to breathe with him, so I do.
Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
“I know… if I found out I was my mate, I would be on verge of fainting, too,” he wittingly states, trying to break the tense mood. A smirk beginning to form as he fights against a laugh. His tease, I couldn’t help but to bite.
“It’s good to know that you also find yourself absolutely unbearable,” I jabbed.
“Unbearably desirable. Absolutely,” he agreed with a feline grin plastered across his face.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes and pushed myself backwards so that I was kneeling, legs bent at the knee with my butt perched on the back of my calves. In a blink, Nyx was standing before me. From my spot on the ground, he appeared magnificently tall. Neck craning all the way back, I caught the heated look in his eyes as they darkened slightly while he looked down at me. My arm lifted like I was puppet. His hand was palm up. I placed my fingers on his while wrapping my thumb around the other side. Cauldron, his hands are huge. I’m only wrapping my hand around three fingers and it barely fits. Our eyes met. My chest started tingling, again.
Smiling, he pulled me to my feet. My wings settled, relaxed. He didn’t let go of my hand, but he dropped it in between us. As we stood, I noticed he how much he truly towered over me. Standing at five feet tall, I looked up to most people. But, he was at least a foot taller than me. Standing at around 6’4, the crown of my head barely reaches his shoulders. Everything about him was big. That tingling in my chest starting to spread, pooling in my core. Lord, I had never felt like this before. My breathe hastening. I gulped, eyes falling downwards. Ready to drown myself in embarrassment. I couldn’t control it. His delicious heady musk intensified, filling my nose. He smelled of night-blooming flowers, a spray of salt water, and caramelized fruits. I almost moaned.
“I usually get to know a girl before I see her on her hands and knees, little star,” Nyx suggestively raised an eyebrow at me.
“Don’t say things like that!” I screeched, burying my face behind my hands. Gods dammit, why does he have to say such things?  My blushed scorched me face. Did I hate it? Absolutely not. Something deep within me wanted to purr back.
“But, you like it,” Nyx teased eying the curves of my hips. He seemed to enjoy doing that. Teasing me.
Face still buried, I spread my fingers and peered out at him. Eye level with his chest, I could see the top of his toned stomach. The olive-skinned abs disappeared down his shirt. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, chest rising.
Get your shit together, Nova. I told myself.
“How do you know that I like it?” I peered up into his violet eyes getting lost in the specks of stardust. Those eyes are weapons.
“You blushed. I heard your heartbeat increase, and your… scent changed,” he took a short pause towards the end to find the right words. Scent changed.
“What do I smell like?” I curiously asked, brows furrowing.
He took another long whiff through his nose closing his eyes.
“Lavender and vanilla…,” his voice had turned huskier, “it got sweeter, so I only can assume it’s your…” he gulped, eyes dipping to stare at my lips, “your arousal.”
My fingers snapped back over my face.
“It’s perfectly natural. Nothing to be embarrassed about, my little star.” He said reassuringly, leaning up against the bookshelf.
I let out a half frustrated, half embarrassed sigh.
“Nobody’s ever… talked to me that way before,” I admitted. “And, nobody has ever made me feel this way before… physically I mean,” I finished.
“You’ve never been sexually aroused?” he couldn’t hide his surprise.
I shook my head.
“Nobody has ever caught my eye. I don’t really go out all that much,” I confessed as the tone of my voice shifted, laced with sadness, “and it’s not like many people expressed interest either,” my voiced softly murmured, but of course, he heard it.
“Why do you say that?” he closed the distance between us. Our feet practically touching. My neck tilted back to stare up at him. He looked down tentatively setting his hands on my figure, one on my hip and one cupped my face. His thumb stroked my cheek comfortingly.
“My wings,” I admitted, as they sagged behind me trying to take up less space.
“What about your wings, Nova?”
“People think they’re ugly.”
I could feel his chest suppress a growl. He seemed to be getting agitated. Protective almost.
“I think they’re beautiful.” He confessed.
“You’re just saying that.” I said getting annoyed.
He couldn’t actually believe that. Nobody has ever told me that my wings are beautiful. Well, except for Emerie and my mom. Most people call them ugly. With the white flesh, the deep blue and purple veins shown through the translucent skin.
My embarrassment crept up quickly. I went to turn around to continue shelving books as a distraction, but my head throbbed.
“They are beautiful, Nova. Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he comforted me like he had a direct line to my feelings. I calmed down enough that he tacked on, “I’d worship them, if you’d let me,” he purred, eyes glinting with his tease Worship my wings. My core melted. Utterly molten. I think I wanted that to happen.
“What do you mean?” my curiosity encouraged me to ask.
Nyx leaned down brushing his lips against my ear, “I’d start with a soft breath….,” he blew outwards, “just like that.”
He had pulled back in the blink of an eye, waiting for my reaction.
The small burst of warm breath tickled a sensitive spot at the base of my left wing shooting down to my toes. Reflexively, it spasmed a bit. I shivered and let out a soft breathe that was a cross between a sigh and moan. Gods, had that spot always been there?
“My little star liked that, didn’t she?” he rhetorically questioned. His perfect lips quirked upwards in a stunning, predatory grin.
That grin held me hostage. My minding going fuzzy from the pleasurable sensation and possessive pet name.
“Do you want to know what I would do to you next?” I barely register his words, stating at those lips. My nipples hardened beneath my shirt.
I nodded dazed, entranced by his lips.
“Do you really?”
I nodded again; this time my wings spread out as if they were reaching for him.
“Nova..,” at the mention of my name, my eyes drifted upwards to his, “do you want me to continue? Use your words, please. I need to hear it from you,” his hands cupped my face. I could feel that sinful breath caressing my face.
Mouth moving before my brain had caught, “I want to know. Please. What… what would you do next?”
“Adorable, I’ve barely done anything and you’re begging already… I’d start by kissing your perfect, rosy lips all the way down your neck and shoulder to those gorgeous wings.”
His hand tracing the path along your skin. Your breath caught. “I’d play with that little spot on your wings until you could barely stand,” leaning in his breath ghosted the spot once more sending pleasure radiating to my core. My knees almost gave out, but I remained upright. My panties began to feel like they are too tight.
“Until you were begging me for more. Until you’re sweetness is pooling inside your panties,” his voice growled, “Only then would I take my finger tips and drag them all over those perfect little wings if yours.” Seriously, just his words were making my core clench. Wetness began to leak from core, slick coating the inside of my panties.
His eyes darkened, nostrils flaring. He could smell it. He knew. And, he loved the effect his words had on my body.
“I’d tease you until you couldn’t stand anymore. You’d be quivering. Shivering with pleasure.”  He murmured against the corner of my mouth, hands connecting at the small on my back.
I could feel the smirk, feel the heat seeping off of him. His scent had intensified; that sweet and salty musk making me salivate. “I’d keep you right there. On the edge. And, if you were a good girl, then I’d let you cum….How does that sound, Nova?”
Lost in the fantasy, my eyes closed. I felt dizzy from arousal. Yes, yes! My mind was chanting.
Nyx chuckled.
At that, my eyes opened. The corners were soft, everything was a bit fuzzy.
Trying to piece together an actually response, my dark blue eyes widened with arousal looking doll-like.
“Yes, please.”
“So polite.” He drawled, but didn’t move to touch me. He looks at me expectantly.
“Words, Nova. What exactly do you want from me?”
“I… I want you to kiss me.”
“Where?”
Embarrassed, I broke eye contact, “please, don’t make me say it,” I begged him softly. This felt like torture, but I liked it.
“We’ll have to work on that…” he assessed me and his hand went behind me to clutch at my long pony tail.
Starting from the base, he wrapped my hair around his hand once. Twice, and tugged a bit. My neck craned up towards him, hair pulling deliciously at my scalp. With my lips parted, he asked, “May I kiss you, little star?”
I tried to nod, but could barely move from his grip on my hair. His eyes glinted as he felt me try to pull.
Words, yes, right. He wanted me to verbalize my wants.
“Yes.” It was breathier than I intended.
A hand lightly gripped my chip between his thumb and index finger while he leaned in.  His sweet breath became overwhelming, lips hovering over mine. Waiting. Teasing more like it. Just fucking kiss me.
His lips brushed mine, softly. Lower lip dragging slightly over his upper lip. Chest rumbling, something snapped. My chest tightened as our bond pulled taught Like, he couldn’t hold back any longer, his mouth devoured mine. My hands were frozen by my sides as his mouth moved over mine.
Oh my. His lips are heavenly. So soft. They are on mine. And, he smells so fucking good.
Lacking in experience, it took me a while process the situation before I realized that I should probably kiss him back. The entire time I was frozen, his hands had been running up and down my back; caressing me into the sensation of his lips on mine. That primal voice screaming devour him too! With newfound courage, I lifted my hands to thread through the nape of his neck. Gripping the hair and pulling slightly causing him to groan. He pressed me against him further as if we needed to become one entity altogether.
I gasped as I felt his warm tongue drag along the seam of my lips. My lips parted involuntarily, and Nyx slid his tongue into my mouth. I sighed into him, opening my mouth allowing him inside. Letting him explore me. His tongue danced with mine. Tasting each other. There was no doubt about who was in control in this situation; his tongue taking the lead. His grip tightening on my waist with one hand while the other comes up to cup the back of my head, tilting it just where he wants it as his thumb softly strokes my cheek. Our lips part with smacking noise. My head is spinning. All I can smell is him. All I can taste is him. Sweet. Immediately, he starts trailing kissing down my jaw, sucking lightly when I let out a gasping moan when he arrives at the spot below my ear.
“Hmmm…” I hum blissed out. My fists tightening in his hair to keep him there. I can feel him smile against me. He gives the spot a quick peck, and continues his descent. He pays close attention, sucking at the spots that elicit a gasp or a moan from me. The spot below my ear. The spot in the middle of the tendon along the side of my neck. The hollow of my throat. That one in particular makes me gulp for air as I press my legs together beneath my dress to alleviate the need to press myself against Nyx. Ever observant, Nyx notices.
“Uh, uh, uh…keep your legs spread,” his leg wedges between mine pressing up against my aching heat. I sigh in relief closing my eyes and my hands fall from his hair. His hand grips my jaw lightly, “Eyes open. If my little star is feeling that needy, then she needs to use her voice and ask for it,” he drawls out as his hands begin to trace lightly from my shoulders down to the tips of my fingers. Each time the ticklish trail moves closer and closer to the base of my wings. Each time, I have a harder time catching my breath. My eyes are locked with his, pleading. Begging him. On verge of becoming a begging, crying mess.
“If you think those pretty eyes are going to make me go easy on you, then you are mistaken,” a small whine escapes my throat at his words. At the sound, his eyes darken. A mischievous glint in his eyes sets the stardust in a spiral of chaos. Realizing that he’s not going to give in, I sigh in defeat.
“Please…” I begin quietly, eyes glancing downwards every so often. His gaze is so powerfully beautiful that it can be intimidating. But, I catch the nod he gives me to go on. Ugh, does he really have to make me say everything out loud? It makes me feel so dirty, but I kind of like it.
I open my mouth to continue, but smack it closed in embarrassment. A deep flush spreads across my cheeks.
Oh, please. Just do something or I’m going to go crazy.
Taking mercy on me, Nyx askes, “Do you want me to make you feel good?”
I lock eyes with his nodding. Yes. Yes. Yes!
“Do you want me to touch you, Nova?” Nyx asks in a rougher voice.
“Yes, please.”
“Good girl.”
Good girl. Oh gods. I grind down a bit on his leg wedged between mine. I want him to call me that all the time.
He grins as if he knows exactly what calling me his good girl does to my body.
“Where do you want me to touch you?” he continues his questions. As if he could sense my unease about voicing my wants, he adds, “I need to know exactly what you want so we can have boundaries, Nova. I want to make you feel good. I want to make you cum.” He growls the last sentence into the crook of my neck. His voice vibrating and sending a rush of heat down to my aching core. He pushes his leg up a bit to add more pressure to my core. I grip him tighter and sigh in response. My head growing light and vision fuzzy. I just want him to touch me. I can’t think anymore!
“M-my wings,” I stutter out. His eyes darken, hands coming up to trail towards the base of my wings.
“Are you absolutely sure, Little Star?”
“Yes. Nyx, please,” I confirm in a whine. That primal voice within me screaming…touch me touch me touch me!
At the first touch of his finger on the base of my wing, I gasp loudly and shutter. It feels like the perfect balance of way too sensitive to way too ticklish. It’s a lovely torture that ignites the ache that has been building within my core. Pressing a bit more firmly he begins to make small, tight circles against the tendons and knots with his thumbs, I moan and press my lips up to meet his in a sloppy kiss. It feels like heaven. Moving a bit faster, the sensation feels akin to rubbing small, tight circle somewhere else. You know where I mean.
I gasp as he picks up speed. Nyx focuses his attention on littering my neck with kisses as his fingers work their magic. I settle into the sensations, sinking into the feeling of his fingers and hands as the fire within my core builds. Bearing down even more on his leg, I can’t help myself, but start to slowly grind my core against his leathers. The movement creates a delicious friction.
“Yes, little star, take your pleasure,” Nyx praises me with his lips parted. With each rock of my hips, my pubic bone sensually massages his growing bulge. His lips slightly part, eyelids drooping. I ride his thigh with vigor as he massages the base of my wings, but I need more. The strain on my body from exerting myself making me feel weak and frustrated.
“More, please,” I plead, eyes beginning to tear. Becoming desperate, I grab one of his hands and guide it to my breast. He takes the message. Through the fabric of my shirt, his thumb swipes over the pebbled bud. A shutter racks through my core as the heat intensifies. My hips still weakly rocking against him.
“Ohhh…yes!” I moan out as he takes both nipples between his fingers through the fabric and rolls them. My chest tightens at that movement, pressing my core fervently against his thigh. Arms grasping to fist at the fabric of his shirt. My thighs clamping down on his leg, the heat becomes all too much.
“Let go, little star,” Nyx purrs against my ear, fingers moving to assault a different spot at the junction of my wing and shoulder. White hot pleasure sears from my wings to my core pushing me towards the edge. Higher and higher. Lighter and lighter. I never wanted it to stop. Suspended in his night sky, only his violet eyes grounding me as if I am in a trance.
“You’ve been such a good girl, Nova,” Nyx whispers, then kissed my forehead. Out of breath, we both know how close I am.
Right on the edge. Just a little bit more. More. Please. Mate.
“Cum for me, mate,” Nyx growls into my ear. I shudder, eyes rolling back into the head as I succumb to the white-hot pleasure that radiates from deep within my core. The sensation grows, consuming my leg and lower torso. Moving up to my wings which begin to twitch. My core clenches down as my legs flex, milking the pleasure. Nyx hands wrap around me, securing myself to him. My core begins to flutter in pulse-like clenches… wanting something to fill it up. Slowly, my breath regulates itself. I lift my head, still feeling light and dizzy, to find Nyx grinning like the Cheshire cat down at me. With a kiss to crown of my head, he hugs me closer.
What about him? What about his pleasure? I want to make him feel good, too.
I begin to snake my hand in between our bodies towards his bulge. With preternatural reflexes, he stops my hand. Bringing it up to kiss, he mumbles against my fingers, “I didn’t expect to come here and have you like this. I want you to know that. This was about you. Only you. My mate. We can focus on me later.”
“Next time…” I concede laying to rest my head against his chest. Completely satiated and extremely tired, my eyes begin to close. He’s been supporting most of my weight while we stood for this whole time.
“lay down…” I request quietly into his chest.
“Your’s or mine?” Nyx slyly asks obviously not as tired as I am.
“Wanna sleep, don’t care,” I mumble, feeling protected and safe within his arms.
“Okay, you expended too much of your energy, poor little thing. Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you,” Nyx whispers all this with his head in the crook of my neck. He raises to his full height taking me with him. Cradled in his arms, my neck is buried into his chest. I hear his heartbeat. Because I know the route so well, I feel us walk back through my shop towards the front door. Nyx grabs the keys from the front counter, then goes to exit and lock the front door.
“Hold on tight, little star. We’ll go to mine,” he pulls me in tighter, bends down, then launches into the morning sky. Wings flapping behind us. I peered up at Nyx. Beautiful, eyes speckled with stardust. I basked in his gaze feeling completely and comfortably seen. In the morning sky, his eyes looked ethereal; unforgettable.
If you would have told me that today I would meet my mate, I would have laughed in your face. Yet, here I am… cocooned within his strong embrace, still on cloud nine from the best orgasm of my life and feeling safe and secure in our new bond. A bond that I want to pursue. Desperately want to continue to pursue.
Flying in his arms, I have never felt so free. So light. So me.
“Sleep,” Nyx coaxed me with lingering kiss to my temple, then pulled back to gaze down at me. Those starry eyes twinkled, embracing me in their darkness as my own shut with exhaustion. Dreaming about waking up to the eyes in my dreams.
If I was his little star, then he was my night sky.
 (Thank you for reading this far!! Sending you my love!!)
part 2: when two stars collide**
152 notes · View notes
lovelytsunoda · 1 year
Text
the cedric diggory f1 driver au that nobody asked for but i wrote anyways
Tumblr media
all of this started because i was watching goblet of fire and noticed that both renault and hufflepuff share a color scheme
and then i thought that robert pattinson would look very very hot in a race suit
more chaos dedicated to the harbinger of chaos, anj herself (@libraryofloveletters )
in this scenario, the driver lineups are as follows:
ferrari: harry potter, oliver wood, red bull: draco malfoy, blaise zabini haas: fred & george weasley, renault: cedric diggory, zacharias smith
hes lead driver at renault, has been there for two years now
by all accounts, he's a very good driver, especially being as young as he is
but he's still chasing that elusive race win, he just hasn't been able to push the renault far enough
god he looks incredible climbing out of the car, balaclava lines on his face, hair mussed and drenched in sweat
cedric is a humble king always praising his fellow drivers, including ferrari rookie (and his former teammate) harry potter
"yeah, i mean, the pace was there but at the end of the day, it's hard to beat the ferraris. hats off to harry for that one, he really smashed it today, the win was well deserved."
a little wink at the camera, towel around his neck before he backs away with his press officer at his side
he's basically pierre gasly on steroids
the f1 ladies man
literally has fangirls falling over each other to try and get his autograph or a picture with him at signings
he's not the life of the party, leaves that to the weasley twins (they drive for haas, they need SOMETHING to celebrate)
instead he can be found in the back, talking and laughing with the mechanics and the engineers
everybody in the paddock loves him
media darling, you can't tell me otherwise
he's england's sweetheart
the extra tight white fireproofs that show off EVERYTHING
it's silverstone, his home grand prix (although it's also the home grand prix for half of the grid at this point)
and he's feeling great about himself all weekend, cedric has a feeling that he might finally get his win that weekend
a crash in the first corner takes out one of the ferraris and a mercedes
he's not even sure how it happened but somehow he's up into second place with ten laps to go
"alright, ced, the gap between you and blaise is 0.45 seconds, malfoy is almost one second behind. if you can hang on until the drs zone, i think we stand a chance at winning the whole damn thing."
"and diggory has drs! the renault goes down the inside of the red bull of blaise zabini, and he's done it! cedric diggory is leading the british grand prix!"
and the crowd goes MENTAL
"it worked!" cedric screams over the radio. "we're leading the bloody race!"
i imagine that he'd talk a little like george russell on the radio
and when he finally gets to stand on that podium, with the british national anthem pouring out of the speakers as he stands on the top step
hefting the trophy above his head before they're given the all clear to pop the champagne bottles open
god that man would so pretty covered from head to toe in champagne.
a cheeky grin throughout the post race interviews
gets to the cool down room and slumps down in his chair, still in shock over the entire thing as he looks at the little pirelli baseball cap, the british flag and 1st place embroidered on the side.
his girlfriend there in a little yellow sundress filming the podium celebrations
cedric goes over to the blacony above parc ferme (i think that's what it's called? or maybe parc ferme is just where the cars go after a race?) and pours the champagne on her when she's not looking
champagne kisses after the podium celebrations, the paparazzi are swarming and he's holding the trophy in front of their faces for privacy
celebrating afterwards with him you ask???
SPICY CONTENT INCOMING!
a full dinner with the whole team to thank them for their efforts
he's wearing jeans and a white button down shirt, a little cord necklace resting under his collarbone
they're back in the hotel, music playing softly in the background
sharing a bottle of wine and dancing in the candlelight
turns into hot sex
but cedric, despite now having a race win under his belt, still devotes the entire night to pleasing his girlfriend
holding her hand at all times, even when it gets a little rougher by their standards
which it always does during a race weekend when he lands a podium
scratches all down his back
shes on her stomach, one hand behind her back to grasp his hand as he fucks her from behind
calling him 'my race winner' the entire time because it inflates his ego (and turns him on)
endless cuddles afterwards (hes the big spoon, draping his body over hers as he thanks her for being there to support his career, being there for him during every up and down in his career
88 notes · View notes
findroleplay · 4 months
Note
hi there! i'm eliza (she/her) & at the moment i'm craving either some harry potter, asoiaf, or some hunger games rp. it's like its 2013 again! i'm 25+ (sigh!) so unwilling to write with anyone under 21 under any circumstances, and I write on discord, generally on private servers.
i like to double up in terms of canons - if i write your preferred canon, it would be great if you could write mine - and if we do mxf ships I prefer to double up on those too. I am comfortable writing all genders and dynamics, I just find that having two ships means we both have equal investment! in terms of ocs I have noted a couple of oc scenarios I would like to explore, but in general I prefer to stick faiiiirly close to canons.
i am definitely a 2-3 paragraphs type of writer and i love to ramble on about our characters, novel/novella style!
below i have listed a ships i'm craving, with my preferred role in bold*, as well as some canons I just love writing in any scenario! *if neither is bolded you can take your pick, it means I love writing both of them <3 italicised means I would literally kill for you to write this with me. i'm open to canon x oc or canon x canon, as well as mxf (generally my default but not always!), mxm, or mxf.
I'm very easy going (just silly really) and would put my activity at about a 6/10 - I won't be on discord every day but will absolutely check in with you if I think I'm going to be away from my phone or extremely busy. while I don't have any triggers per say, I prefer to plot and write a little together before plunging into full blown smut, and I like nsfw scenes to have a plot purpose (most of the time lol). needless to say i am extremely anti-jkr. these characters are ours now <3 harry potter: fred weasley x alicia spinnet** (i would probably cut limbs off for this) sirius black x marlene mckinnon sirius black x remus lupin sirius black x ofc oliver wood x katie bell or ofc george weasley x luna lovegood george weasley x angelina johnson narcissa malfoy x lucius malfoy draco malfoy x astoria greengrass alastor moody x anyone fabian prewett x anyone
lily evans x james potter draco malfoy x harry potter ginny weasley x harry potter ginny weasley x pansy parkinson bill weasley x fleur delacour dudley dursley x anyone magical for his redemption arc any minor character ships where we can develop backstories! (just off the top of my head for characters that I love to develop: michael corner, padma patil, justin finch-fletchley, theodore nott, terry boot, susan bones, blaise zabini)
the hunger games: finnick odair x annie cresta haymitch abernathy x effie trinket coriolanus snow x whatever poor girl he decides is going to be his wife gale hawthorne x madge undersee
gale hawthorne x johanna mason ('i could fix him' 'well i could make him worse') finnick odair x ofc (happy to play either role) original tributes in the arena, tribute x mentor if we come up with something good! haymitch x his girl from home (rip babe) asoiaf (book canon): robb stark x jeyne westerling or ofc robb stark x oc if we double! luv writing him sansa stark x jon snow (post parent reveal) jon snow x satin loras tyrell x renly baratheon ellaria sand x oberyn martell catelyn stark x jaime lannister iykyk catelyn stark x roose bolton nooo don't give me the skin of my enemies you're so sexy aha x davos seaworth x stannis baratheon arianne martell x anyone at all! sansa stark x willas tyrell robb stark x margaery tyrell edmure tully x margaery tyrell tbh you can probably persuade me on most canon x canon crack marriages. i got fully invested in lyanna x jaime lannister once so now nothing will surprise me <3 if you're interested in any of these pls like this post so I can reach out and provide my discord!
-
13 notes · View notes
thefiery-phoenix · 21 days
Note
Hey, first off wanted to say I’m a huge fan of your work I’ve been reading ur work for a while and I’ve read your match ups, do you still do matchups for Harry Potter? If you are doing that here’s some info😭:
Looks: Indian, black wavy hair, 5’7, brown eyes with a hint of amber, unconventionally attractive face wise
Personality: very awkward and shy at first but later really loud and adventurous when u get to know me, sarcastic, sharp tounge, funny, smart, empathetic and sensitive, clueless and ditzy of what goes on around me, kind, ambitious
House: slytherin
Style: baggy clothes, streetwear,
Hobbies/pastimes: playing Roblox, reading books, tennis and skateboarding, listening to music,
Ps—>Ik this is a random match up but pleaseeee don’t match me up with Tom riddle I’ll take anyone with him, no offense to him but he’s scary especially since he’ll be Voldemort 💀
Yep, I'm still open for matchups and thank you for liking my work, I really appreciate your kind words a lot, I feel honored you take the time to read my nonsensical work lol. And don't worry, your plea has been answered, I ain't too fond of Moldy Voldy too lol. I'd ship you with...Oliver Wood
Tumblr media
Oliver here as a yandere would be caring but not to mention incredibly possessive, clingy and EXTREMELY competitive and obsessive of you as well. He's actually humble about his talents and stuff but when you're around, he can't help but show off a bit for you since he does need to impress you after all. He hopes you fall in love with him after watching him play Quidditch. And he's as serious as making you only his no matter what, just like how he's serious about Quidditch 
You could be from a different house and be on the Quidditch team of another house but he just sees this as a way to prove himself to you that he's worthy of your love and affection, he's driven by you to win. It's like you're his source and ray of inspiration, a pillar of strength for him, always pushing him to do better and do his best. Of course, when he shows off too much around you the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team are ready to call him out on his behavior much to the amusement of everyone else there and to the embarrassment of Oliver. "Oh, Oliver, is that Y/N I see?" asked Fred in a sing song teasing voice and Oliver tried to quickly look around to where you were and when you flashed him a smile from the stands, he could swear on Merlin that his heart did a somersault 
The others started snickering after seeing Oliver's furious blush and who did he think he was fooling? No one was buying the 'I barely even noticed them' nonsense. "They look good don't they?" teased George and Oliver replied in a dreamy way with a small smile on his face "They look good every day... wait... what? HEY! Focus on the match, we need to beat Slytherin today at any cost no matter what!" he turned firm and strict again, making sure his team mates trained hard to beat Slytherin no matter what. His hatred for Slytherin didn't just stop at Quidditch, it just became more stronger when he saw Marcus Flint, the Slytherin's Quidditch team captain talking with you about something
He didn't know why as soon as he saw that sight he felt like either punching him in the face and sending him to the hospital wing or hexing him, a hex involving something about him not being able to use his mouth or tongue anymore to talk with you. He didn't know why he felt so bad, bitter and a mix and storm of emotions flurry inside him. Ranging from rage, anger to resentment and fear. The fear of losing you, for someone like him. No, he would not allow it. He would NEVER allow it, never in a million years, He can even lose in Quidditch, there's always a next time to win but he just can't afford to lose you under any circumstances
"Is he bothering you Y/N?' asked Oliver as he suddenly rushed to your side and distanced you from Flint. Flint scowled and you smiled and replied "No Oliver it's all right, he was just asking me about the homework we received from Potions by Professor Snape. I do have to admit, writing a 5000 word essay based on Potions all around the world and it's effects is quite difficult'' and Oliver immediately needed to get you away from Flint. He didn't like you spending time with him and besides, he could deal with him later on. "Would you like to watch me practice if it's not too much of a hassle? I really look forward to seeing you there'' and you smiled and told him you'd come with him saying bye to Flint 
It took him all his restraint not to punch Flint for flirting with you after the practice was done. He wasn't mad at you, of course not. He could never be mad at you, in his eyes you're literal perfection, the definition of a god/ goddess who could do no wrong. Even if you do end up doing something wrong at some point in your life, he will find a hundred different to justify your actions. He'll do his best to keep other guys away from you. Will he stalk you? Well, he prefers to call it 'looking out for you' after all, not everyone at Hogwarts is to be trusted like the Slytherin Quidditch team or Roger Davies for that matter, the irritating hindrance between you both 
Oliver is also very protective and a fussy yandere when it comes to you. He treats even the slightest of the scratches like a flesh wound by someone who stabbed you or something. If at all you do get hurt during Quidditch, he'll make you rest, he doesn't want you playing or doing anything when you're injured. He'll drop everything and rush to you, after making sure you're all right he'll carry you bridal style to the Hospital wing for a checkup by Madam Pomfrey just to make sure you aren't really injured. However if someone deliberately injures you, he isn't going to go easy on them. Not only will be make them suffer the humiliation of losing to him and his team at Quidditch, but he'll also break a few bones and send them packing to the Hospital wing, and a few hexes and jinxes won't really go amiss either 
If you keep getting injured or flirted with by people, he'll grow anxious for your safety and after feeling slightly insecure, he'll have to kidnap you to save you from all those scumbags. It's for your own good darling, just trust him he'll take care of everything for you
12 notes · View notes
berlinini · 11 months
Note
do you think zayns and louis relationship has changed recently? I feel like somethings def shifted. i’m probably delusional, but louis has said fairly positive things the few times he’s mentioned z recently. and he’s been liking his posts. I feel like they’ve maybe reconnected, maybe had some small talk if not a real conversation.
or maybe louis has just matured and let go of whatever drama they had between them.
It's really hard to say... Louis extended a (public) olive branch by congratulating Zayn on Khai's birth, then the pandemic happened, which was a time of introspection for a lot of people - and definitely for Louis. Zayn also went through a lot of stuff in the past year - personal and professional. So the elements are there for both of them to have been mature enough to reconnect in some way, privately.
The other scenario as you point out is Louis having moved on and made peace on its own #growth.
One thing I'll say is that there's a lot of criticism about the boys not reciprocating Louis' support and that's true, but when it comes to Zayn, I would like to point out that the man is basically a ghost. He randomly posts on IG and tweets random stuff about UFC once in a blue moon. AFAIK he's hasn't acknowledged 1D/ the guys in soooo long. It would be soooo out of character for him to come out of the woods and tweets about Louis' album/doc/tour. But that doesn't mean he doesn't do it privately. We'll just never know. (I'm pointing that out to differentiate between Niall's and Liam's 'public support' which we can tell is business motivated).
14 notes · View notes
hykar · 1 month
Text
💫🌷Hi-kar here!•°
Hi, This is Hykar and welcome to my blog where I mainly talk, write, and post about my favorite characters and sometimes the game/fiction where they are from. Welcome to my little world! You may ask me about myself but please make sure its not too personal :)!
I read Manhwas, Manhuas, Fanfictions, and Novels—I also like to watch Donghuas, Animes/Animated series, and Films. I also like to play a wide range of games (mainly adventure and building ones) such as Pokemon (Emerald), Genshin Impact, Obey Me!, Dark Corridors, Honkai Starrail, Path to nowhere, Project Sekai!, and so much more.
Overall just a person who's really into books and fiction. I also write my own novels and comics with my own characters!
🌷What I write and accept:
I write Character x Reader/OC/another character Fanfictions (Including: scenarios/imagines, oneshots, and AU's) (that will be definitely divided into parts because they will most likely going to be long) with an ACCEPTABLE trope and/or dynamic. (E.g. Rivals to Lovers, Picky-eater character x Eats everything character).
Requests are accepted! (Characters that differ from the ones I will write about may take some time because I want to understand their character first before writing).
I specialize in ANGST.
🌷What I DO NOT write and accept:
Character x Reader/OC/another character Fanfictions (Including: scenarios/imagines, oneshots, and AUs) that DO NOT have an acceptable trope and/or dynamic. (E.g. Character x Reader/OC that are siblings or have a... Jaw-dropping age gap.)
🌷What will take some time to be considered:
NSFW.
Dark Romance (It depends on what kind of Dark Romance is being implied.)
🌷SOME of my favorite characters and the game/fiction where they are from that I will post about:
Honestly, I have A LOT of favorite characters and most of them are either the side character that doesn't get a lot of screen time, dies or underrated. Sometimes all of the above. Henceforth I will be writing about them so that people that enjoy the same character I do get some more content about about them. Here are my top 3 favorites!
1. Sucheon Kang of Eleceed
2. Amajiki Tamaki of MHA/BNHA
3. Rosaria, La Signora, Arlechinno/Knave and Kaedehara Kazuha of Genshin Impact (My main too!)
4. Oliver Wood of the Harry Potter series
5. Neji Hyuga and Ino Yamanaka of Naruto
6. Sanzu Haruchiyo of Tokyo Revengers
7. Toge Inumaki of Jujutsu Kaisen
8. Tokito Muichiro of Kimetsu no Yaiba/Demon Slayer
9. Kyousuke Tsurugi of Inazuma Eleven GO!
10. Simeon of Obey Me!
-Too many of them to count so I'll stop here. You may ask me who else!
🌷I have a lot of favorite Character x Character/ships but I won't list them anymore cause this post will be too long to read ㅠ ㅠ.
🌷HEADS-UP:
1. I may or may not write too often because of: Schoolwork, Writers block, Burn-out, My forgetfulness
2. Please be patient and respectful with your requests :(
3. My writing is pretty sh-t, Im sorry.
4. I edit my work sometimes which is often. (Perfectionist struggles... Jk. Maybe.)
5. I might post my opinions/thoughts in here and it might bury my works so I will keep it to a minimum, Including the reblogs.
6. I will generally refer to the reader/describe them via They/Them/Their pronouns for the reasoning that: me, as a writer does not know the reader personally, and so that my work is also accessible to everyone. This however, may or may not be applicable when it comes to a request since there are specifications.
🌷Thank you! This is Hykar. Pleasure to be of acquaintance!💫
1 note · View note
redheadspark · 2 years
Note
hello again!!!! last random prompt from me. :D
"you see things in me that I didn't even know where there" & "did you wince? were you hurt?"
Scenario 3: for the sender to protect the receiver and then carry them to safety. With Oliver Wood
We Live
Summary: You reminisce your recent years after the Battle of Hogwarts, seeing a familiar face that made you think of home
Tumblr media
Warnings: nothing but fluff
My first Oliver Wood piece! I'm so excited to post for him! I hope you guys like it!
----------------------
“Park it here, Ferrier,”
You groaned as you sat shoulder to shoulder with Katie Bell, the pair of you in what remained of the Great Hall as the first rays of the run poured into the high windows.  Dust was still settling, the smell tinted smell of Blood was evident in your nose as you felt some blood caked into your hair and on your skin.  Your whole body was aching, your clothes almost having a layer of dust and blood etched anywhere that was seen, and you were bone tired.  It felt good to sit down for the briefest of moment, even though your muscles were screaming out and the small cuts around your fingers ands hands were still tender and aching.  You never thought you would be back in your old school, back in there familiar halls that you knew so well for 7 years, just to see half of it almost obliterated from Death Eaters
From You Know Who
Your old classmates contacted you, telling you what was going on in Hogwarts and they needed help in the fight.  You Know Who was bringing Death Eaters with him to battle Hogwarts, to battle Harry Potter and end him once and for all.  You pretty much didn’t hear much about him after you graduated from Hogwarts, apart from what the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler wrote.  Two sides of the story, it was always like that.  So to foley rely on what those two papers wrote seemed a bit harsh and a bit much.  
But that was nothing compared to The Ministry of Magic being taken over by Death Eaters, and all hell breaking loose.
Now, after a long night of fighting and fending off dark wizards and witches, you were seeing the outcome of it all.  Bodies were being moved and placed in certain post, away from more carnage.  Walls were crumbling around you, teachers were consoling students that were both scared and weeping from all that they saw.  That might have been the harder part of all of this happening: seeing young children who weren’t even teenagers being placed in a situation like this.  Were they freightened?  They had to have been.
“You know what?  I can manage him alone, Neville,”
A familiar voice was heard over to your left, you craning your head and neck over the source.  You knew the voice, you haven’t heard it in some time but it was clear as day.  Seeing his backside and the blue blazer he was sporting, along with his trousers and boots that too were dusted in ash and dust, he was carrying a body in his massive arms and showing little resistance in it.  His brown hair almost had an inch of cut to it, but you knew that shade anywhere.  Your heart dropped, that or it was creeping out of your mouth slowly.  
He was walking away from Neville, whom was clutching the Sword of Gryffindor in his battered hand and looking farther remorseful as the man carried the younger body over to a spot near the window.  Finally, seeing him lay the body down very gently and soothingly, you knew for certain who it was.  Someone you briefly saw hours before, and who saved your life.
Oliver Wood.  Your old boyfriend and current husband.
You two were quidditch players, captains of your houses for the matter.   You two had a healthy rivalry since your second years when you both got on your respected Quidditch teams with you being a Beater and Oliver being a Keeper. Oliver was a massive Qudditch player, he was good at it too but he strived for the best.  You weren’t devoted as he was, but you were just as good on the broom.  It was safe to say you two caught each other’s eye by your third year, Oliver coming up to talk to you after your practice and you catching up with him between classes.  Those small talks you two shared turned into long talks in the corridors and side by side in the Great Hall.  Sure you tow got teased by your teammates about you two getting close and thick a thieves, but neither of you cared.  When you played against one another, you left your friendship on the side and flew hard against one another.  But once you touched on the ground, your friendship was back in full swing.  
A friendship the blossomed into a romance by your fourth year.  
It was a gentle relationship, the two of you wanting to keep it between each other and making it as simple as possible.  You loved being with Oliver, feeling him hug you close after a tough Quidditch match, or him holding his hand from class to class.  You ever thought you would get the tough and charismatic Gryffindor Quidditch Captain under your spell, not to even make yourself feel lower than you were.  Oliver adored you, having a twinkle in his eye when you were around him and grinned widely when you spoke to him.  He was so different with you in comparison to when he was in Quidditch mode.
You remembered your first kiss on the quidditch pitch, right after you defeated the Slytherins in a brutal match.
“Oliver,” you gasped his name, seeing him freeze when he heard your name.  He moved swiftly, almost like a one he would do on his broom.  Once he locked eyes with you, nothing else was there in your vision and everything else was melting away.  You saw his face, how it was angled and shielded away with the recent years.  The wound over his right eye, the small stubble he was growing in, and the almost grave look on his face.  Your feet was moving without you realizing it, the groaning in each step and the ache in your muscles were nothing now as you were making your way through the damage of the Great Hall.  He moved too, zoning in on you like he was about to catch you in his arms just like he would with a quaffle.  
You two collided, wrapped in each other’s arms and breathing in the massive sigh of relief. 
“Thank Merlin you’re alright,” he said in a relief into your hug, you feeling him hugging you so close that you felt him almost pick you up. That hug alone was all you needed to know that he was beyond glad to see you alive, you two haven’t seen each other all night long when that battle was raging.  You were relived too, wondering where he went and if he was alright.  Finally, after embracing one another, you pulled away and pressed your head against his, feeling squint when your skin made contact on your foreheads.  
“You winced?” You asked, looking up at the wound on his head, “Were you hurt?  Show me where—”
“Nothin’ too bad, I swear,” He reassured you as you were checking his entire body for anything too serious and too intense.  Oliver seemed fine, and the relief was clearly there on your face as you rested yoru foreach against his upper chest, wrapping your arms around his lower waist and breathing him in for the briefest of moment.
You could remember earlier in the battle, late in the night with the courtyard being lit up with chaos and war.  You were dodging spells left and right, striking down Death Eaters and devoted follower of You Know Who that were in your way. Lal you could feel and hear were the screams of others being killed or stunned, seeing boulders and stones flying across the sky and flames igniting the night, and being so close to getting killed only one or twice.  
There was one moment when you were squaring off with a Death Eater who had the upper hand on you, getting you cornered against the wall and using a good amount of power against you.  You kept your ground, blocking every strike and stun he was giving you.  You could feel that maybe he was going to kill you.  But he was struck down on on the back, falling to the ground in heap with Oliver right behind him with his wand drawn.
“Took you long enough,” You said to him as he walked over to take your hand and pull you out of the corner, over the dead body on the ground.
“Sorry for takin’ too long,” He replied in a huff, “Had to get some of the old Quidditch players together and plan out an aerial attack,”
“When?” You asked him, seeing him about to answer when a massive roar came from behind you both.  You looked past him, seeing a massive mountain troll barreling through into the courtyard with a club in hand.  
“Now,” He replied, grabbing your hand and you both started moving quickly, “I got us a pair of broomsticks that we can use.”
Sometime in the night you were spectated again: Oliver taking to the sky and you landed on the ground to finish off the last of the stragglers.  You knew he wasn’t too far away, aiding in the fight as much as you were with the younger students and keeping them away from the battle.  As gruesome and intense it all was, you were glad it was all over and victory was on your side.
Now, there was peace again.
“Come on, walk with me.” He said to you, lacing your hands together as you two walked side by side out of the Great Hall.  You were averting your eyes away from any bodies you saw, hearing some blubbering and wails from the students that were there and filled with heartbreak.  You felt it too, the pain and sadness of people loosing their lives or being permanently scarred for the rest of their lives.  You knew both yourself and Oliver were going to be scarred too, but you two had each other and you felt blessed because of it.
----------------------------------------
Ever since you two got married righter after you graduated from Hogwarts, you were beyond happy.  It was a small affair, you two only needing your parents and no one else present at your childhood home.  Oliver was nervous to propose to you, and he did on the very day you two left Hogwarts forever.  He gave you a ring, his grandmother’s ring that was in his family for decades.  Although both of your parents thought it was a bit rushed since you were young, they didn’t oppose it either.   You remembered the vows you two gave each other in your little garden.  You saw pure love in his eyes as he was telling you his vows.
“You see things in me that I didn’t even know where there.  I’m happier now that I have you, and I don’t ever wish to change it”
You both move into your small flat together, Oliver going on be the Reserve Keeper for Puddlemere United while you wrote for the Daily Prophet as a Quidditch corespondent.  It was perfect for the pair of you: You writing columns on the sport as your husband was on one of the teams.  Those first two years were blissful as a young married couple. But by the time it was your third anniversary, and You Know Who came to power, you two had a heavy dose of reality. 
You both went inside hiding at your flat, not seeing the light of day and afraid to go out at night or to be taken by snatchers or other devoted followers of You Know Who.  It was hard to get the those months of not knowing what was going to come next.  You left your job with the Daily Prophet when things were going south, and Oliver had to be home since Quidditch was at a standstill.  So you two had to lean on each other, your strength came from him and his came from you.  
---------------------------------------------
Walking out of the darkness of the Great Hall and into the sun, you both sighed in relief and felt the sun touching your battered skin.  Oliver kept his arm around you, leaning his head against yours and taking in his own breath.  The eery silence of the area was sinking in and under your bones while you were seeing what was left of the courtyard of your beloved school.
“You Know Who’s gone, isn’t he?” You asked him, feeling him grass your hand around his waist and lacing his fingers together.  Oliver slowly nodded his head, scanning the damage and debris that was sprawled out in front of you.  You couldn’t relive that it came down to your school being a battle ground, lives being lost and shaken forever, and the small sliver of a thought that you could loose.  Truly loose.  
“What are we gonna do?” You asked him sheepishly, the reality of your future sinking in and digesting inside of you.  It was going to be hard to go back to what it used to be, how it used to be.  You wished it would, having that small life with Oliver and nothing else harming you seemed so good and took good to be true.  But this will take years, one night of damage and pain will take years to be forgotten or repaired. 
“We’re gonna live,” He reminded you, sneaking a kiss against your forehead, seeing the gold rays of the sun coming over the lake and on the green grass of what used to be your old quidditch pitch that was now rubble and debris.  You looked too, seeing that familiar pitch and how it was where you and Oliver fell in love and got together.  Great memories and matches were there, ad now it was just dirt and past memories.  Although you were sad that there was no more pitch there to see, you were glad that you both made it out alive and willing to move on.  
You knew Oliver was right, you were going to live from here on out.  
The End. 
74 notes · View notes
darkpoisonouslove · 1 year
Text
A Perfect Mate
Summary: Griffin and Valtor are playing chess but one game seems insufficient to hold their attention. Secure in his victory, Valtor decides to to indulge in their side bet and draw things out. How can that be a mistake? Part 3 of Sparks of Life.
Originally published on 05-01-2020 but I rewrote all of it and I may or may not have kept 5 sentences from the original.
Probably requires some basic understanding of chess pieces and their organization on the board for optimal reading experience. Set before parts 1 and 2 but can be read on its own.
Griffin's hand was resting on the small table next to the chessboard–there was barely enough space left for a cup of tea that she never brought to a game anyway–her fingers almost pressed into it. She was keeping them still, all the action locked behind her eyes where it kept Valtor guessing what each little gasp and tilt of her head meant.
It was all an exercise in vanity regardless. Whatever her next dozen moves, he'd already accounted for them all. She liked to pawn her queen finding new ways to bait him out of all his parallel-running strategies or have her knights invading his part of the board so boldly that had they been real people, she would've been risking their lives just to spite him. It was all nothing more than a setup for her brilliance and smile to both shine so he allowed it. The only time she was more gorgeous than with victory setting her eyes ablaze and curving her lips like there were spells hanging from them was when he had her writhing in bliss, not a single thought spared to the sounds streaming from her mouth. She could as well accidentally summon a demon for all they knew. A mistake that had to concern her less than letting him play with the white pieces.
"Did you realize that you might as well just wave the white flag now?" Griffin gave an uncanny response to his thoughts. And then another one as she chose to capture his pawn instead of trading her queen for a knight or sacrificing it to lure his rook out of her back yard.
It left it a lonely black speck right in the path of his bishop, ready for the taking. Her words were the only card she had left up her sleeve. An underhanded distraction he could turn on her with ease but not before giving her a last chance at a graceful defeat. An olive branch extended to her that she'd slap away and seal her fate.
"The night is still young." He took the black queen off the board and left it in his right corner of the table, Griffin's eyes following the path of the symbol of her power he'd just stripped her of. The thought sizzled in his mind like a lit fuse. "If you surrender now, I could be persuaded to indulge you in a rematch before taking my victory party to bed."
Griffin locked eyes with him. "I'd love for you to take me to bed."
"Then put this lost cause out of its misery," his fingers slid slowly over the wood of the centerpiece he'd robbed her of, stroking it lazily. "I'm afraid I can't do anything for either of us until you take it off my hands."
Her gaze never left his but she'd seen through the words and the gesture, pulling forward the memories of the wonders he could do for her just with his fingers. Just like his eyes didn't have to leave hers for his mind to latch onto the loud hitch in her breathing.
"Gladly," she drawled out, her fingers gliding down the side of her own bishop and then back up before closing around it. She moved to capture another one of his pawns.
He raised an eyebrow. He didn't even have to look at the board to make the move he'd planned for this scenario. The pieces were set in his mind just like the image of pinning her to the bed and holding her hips down until she cried from the relentlessness of his tongue between her thighs. He'd hunt down as many orgasms from her as the minutes she stole from him and herself that they could spend conquering the heights of ecstasy hand in hand if she yielded.
Her want took over her pupils and had them seize up the amber of her irises. She'd sink her teeth in him if she could from all the way across the table and he'd let her as soon as he was straddling her and had her whimpering in pleasure and moaning his name.
"I just have to make sure you're aware of the power balance," Griffin snatched yet another one of his pawns away, leaving him with only half of their initial count. Most of his other pieces were still on the board, though. "The loser will have to do as his queen pleases for the rest of the night," she lined up the pawns like a guard behind which she stored what she'd captured from his artillery.
It made for a nice little display. Emphasis on the little.
"You mean this queen?" he once more picked up the elegant black chess piece that perfectly represented Griffin's place in life – in his hands.
The last time they'd raised the stakes this high, she'd suffered a sound defeat. He'd made her strip for him and feel every agonizing inch of fabric drag over her skin for minutes on end while he'd talked about how his lips and fingertips would have felt instead. Her eyes had been welling up with tears of frustration by the time he'd finished his torment and she'd spilled them all when he'd drawn out her orgasm into another one and then another and then another that had choked her voice and left her body screaming. He'd done his job of erasing sense from her world to perfection if she was ready to bet her agency again. Especially with the odds already stacked against her. And he was about to fix them further in his favor.
"I will take your bet," he set down the queen to pick up his knight.
Her eyes followed every motion as he threatened the bishop she'd just used to steal his pawn and set up his next move.
"On condition that every time someone captures a piece, the opponent has to reveal some more skin. Whoever loses, strips all of her remaining clothes as soon as she gets up from her chair."
"Bold choice of words," Griffin snipped but her teeth worried her bottom lip instantly to undermine her tone.
He'd reached into her mind and pulled forth the memories of the fate she'd doomed herself to just like he used strands of her hair to play her voice like a violin. His hand was in her chest, her heart clasped in it just like her pride was between his teeth. A single step back would leave her with bite marks running through her mind and deep in her tender flesh.
"I'm in," Griffin backed up her bishop with her knight. It was his choice whether to trade.
He had strategies for either option but all that was flashing in front of his eyes were images of her arching her back off the mattress to push her breasts closer into the inviting warmth of his skin and mouth. He had to restrain himself from licking his lips but his gaze skidded off the board and right to Griffin's cleavage. Concealed by a silken scarf that had to be a cherished gift for her to actually put it on. Probably from one of the twins or Faragonda. He never would have purchased for her something so offensively tasteless, nor would he have forgotten the joy on her lips and the gratitude in her touch with which she met every one of his carefully deliberated gifts to her.
"I'd better start seeing skin instead of that hate crime around your neck," Valtor leaned forward and knocked her bishop out of the way with his knight, holding her gaze as he did so.
Her composure in the face of his brutish action stirred his own desire along. He was growing hard at the image of tracing his erection over her readily parted lips instead of having them pressed together in purposeful indifference. And then pulling away to leave her craving a taste long after he'd left her spent and satisfied in every other way.
"Are you sure you can handle it?" Griffin arched an eyebrow his way dramatically to make her words echo like whiplash in his very bones. "You should have learned by now that I do everything for your benefit."
His fingers twitched around the bishop he'd reunited with her other captured pieces. He had to suppress the same impulse in his hips. It would have pushed his cock right down her throat had he had her in the desired position.
He had the patience and presence of mind to bring her to her knees. She was too eager to pace herself, ended up choking and sputtering in a perfect cover for his less conspicuous gasps and curses. It was impossible to tell whether she'd gagged due to the bucking of his hips or his fingers in her hair drawing out loud moans around his cock in the back of her throat. At the end of the day, having her lips wrapped around his erection and melting away anything that wasn't her wrangled more surrender from her than from him.
"I'm generous enough to grant you the opportunity to be selfish for once then," he leaned back and entwined his fingers, the embodiment of self-possession.
Griffin held up her left hand and took off her wedding band. She reached over the table and dropped it around the bishop he'd taken as if to reclaim her possession over it while denying his power over her.
He had to clench his teeth together to make sure his jaw didn't drop at her audacity.
"I wasn't sure you were thinking straight so I had to play it safe," Griffin coyly interrupted the protest exploding in his chest as she reached for his knight. A grin broke out on her face as her own knight took its place on the board and his found its way behind the wall of white pawns she'd built.
He should have been more careful with his wording, he'd give her that. He hadn't specified that they had to take off clothes and had allowed to be outsmarted through their own marriage. But the lack of specifics went both ways.
He opened the top two buttons of his shirt to spite her in return before his fingers snatched the wedding band from where she'd abandoned it. He pocketed it jealously, the weight of it over his heart quelling none of the fire in his blood. Even he wouldn't have stooped so low as to weaponize their vows to each other. He'd have to compel whole new ones from her trembling lips later.
"I've proven myself to be a man of my word many times, Griffin, and I will do it yet again."
A hitch in her breath was all the pause she took before offering a generously salacious, "I can't wait."
Unconditional want had taken over her eyes obscuring their normal brightness with a thick blanket of hunger. The only thing that could conceal it were her eyelids dropping on it to block out anything that could spoil the pleasure he'd make her thighs quiver with. The only chance he had to get a good enough look at it to recapture it later in a painting was to prolong the game.
He took one of her pawns in a deviation from his main strategy. She was worth more than the minimal risk of an already practically-won game.
Griffin took off her scarf, giving him a perfect view of her cleavage, and tied it around his wrist.
He allowed it to humor her. It would be the perfect opportunity to pay her back for daring to remove her wedding band if he used it to comply with the rules of their strip chess. It could very well go with the added bonus of putting her off the idea of ever wearing it again.
"This is just one of many promises for later," Griffin surprised him instead, her voice reminding him of a hunting lioness. It was quiet and prowling deeper into his mind which made it all the more dangerous.
The look in her eyes would have moved him even if he'd been made of stone. She was clear that the only thing keeping her from sinking her teeth in him was the chessboard with both their pride clashing on it. As soon as it was out of the way she'd be closer than physically possible, underneath his skin where she belonged. The more flesh she revealed, the more aware of that fact she made him.
Defying his expectations, she unbuttoned her whole shirt in one go, giving him a spectacular view of her bra underneath, filled out so perfectly by her breasts. The lace didn't leave much to the imagination which lagged behind along with his captivated attention. By the time Griffin slid one of the straps down her shoulder upon the capture of her rook he'd traced the same path with his gaze a million times. He could taste the softness of her skin under his tongue, his mind all consumed by memories.
It was easy for Griffin to avoid his poor attempts at cornering her when he was stuck in a past so close he could sink his fingers into it and yet just as distant as Griffin's defeat remained. She got her king out in the open where the opportunities for check were more but those for a mate were less when her excellent maneuvering backed up her crazy strategy. He couldn't have predicted such chaos in her moves or in his own.
"You seem deep in thought," Griffin's voice caressed his ears just before her foot brushed against his calf.
She gave him a knowing smirk that didn't leave her face even when he caught her ankle and pulled her foot in his lap causing her whole body to move forward in her chair. As if the access to her skin he had now was nothing in the face of the powerful distraction she'd already set in motion.
"Don't worry, you'll get to feel my skin all night long," she grinned despite the shiver running the whole length of her body.
"Something we can agree on," Valtor pressed his fingers in her calf just a touch harder to sear his heat into her instead of vice versa.
Feeling his way up to a sigh or–worse–a moan would hardly help his erection already straining against his pants but his only hope was to turn the tables on her and outdo her in distraction. It always worked like a charm, her lips falling open and her chest settling in the rhythm his fingers dictated. It had never occurred to him that he was only successful because she was more than happy to allow it.
She practically mewled – in the most unabashed, exaggerated manner that went straight to his cock. A curse slipped from his lips in turn to attest to her victory when he had no power over himself left, let alone over her.
His suspicions were only confirmed when one of her pawns made it all the way through the board and to the very last line of his territory so she could turn it into whatever piece she wanted. It'd never mattered that he'd had her queen in his grasp.
Griffin grabbed the black rook he'd claimed and placed it on the board. It was check and mate on the spot, his king was still lined up behind the last three remaining pawns he had with the only exit being blocked by her surviving bishop. She'd even given him a clue as to what she was planning on doing when she'd organized the white pieces she'd captured in much the same fashion.
"A queen has so much power that her greatest asset becomes the allure of taking her off the board," Griffin leaned on the table on her elbows, the victory that had only been in her eyes before now unfolding around them.
He'd fallen for her trap, letting her weave it around him deftly, propping himself further into the image of her loss she'd tempted him with. She'd been the one bringing him down all along and he'd been her willing accomplice. Too willing for his own good perhaps.
"Off with his clothes," Griffin reached over the board and knocked his king off of it, the sound of it hitting the table shattering none of her spell on him. If anything, it only made it stronger.
He grabbed her hand and slipped her wedding band in its rightful place. "If you ever take it off again-"
His growl didn't so much as startle her, her lips curling in a smirk when the sound died in his throat at the scrape of her nails at his wrist. Her fingertips slipped under the scarf still tied around it and pried it loose until it came away, clutched in her hand. He'd never taken it off, planning on binding her wrists together with it before making her beg for respite from the pleasure he'd have overwhelmed her with.
"Told you it was a promise for later," Griffin motioned for him to join her on her side of the table.
Bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss forced her closer to the edge of her seat but she was the one having a hold on him. He should have let go of her if he'd wanted to keep from being steered like she'd enchanted his free will away.
Griffin let him pull her to her feet only to loop the scarf around his neck. She made the knot just tight enough to interfere with his normal breathing and have him gasping for her before he'd even stripped. Her lips were lured to his, not to steal his breath but to give him hers.
He leaned into her, caging her in against the table but her spine was unyielding. Before he could form a coherent enough thought to reach for her bra and discard it, her fingers teased over his abs. The downward path they trailed to his belt left his mind straining to catch up. His heartbeat rushed to meet her teeth where they sank into his lip, his hips already pushing into her proximity. He was all hers.
8 notes · View notes