#oliver wood request

[pappydaddy]

the tales of the infatuated (o.w.)

a/n: i am back and (hopefully) ready to write lovelies!

tv show/movie: harry potter

pairing: oliver wood x fem!shy!gyffindor!reader

requested

part one - there are parallels so read this one first please!

description: tales of oliver and y/n's relationship following the events of the woes of the highly overdramatic

warning: the reader is shy and beats herself up about it (slightly). please, as a shy person myself, never think being shy is bad or wrong in any way. being shy is 100% okay!

note: reader wears a lot of scarves and uses them to kind of hide when embarrassed.

taglist: @just-here-to-escape-reality | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn | @onyourgoddamnleft | @rootbeerfaygo | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @spring-picnics | @lonely-simp | @slytherinambitiouss

a line through your user means i could not tag you for whatever reason! if you possibly changed your user, let me know and i will fix it on my taglist

masterlist | taglist | navigation

-not my gif -

  The air was filled with a sort of muddy smell. The kind of smell only found enjoyable since it meant spring was attacking the bitter cold, thawing the ground and bringing life back to the rather lifeless hills of Scotland. Oliver never really noticed the beauty within the changing of the seasons, all he noticed was that one day the scenery looked one way and the next it was different. Now, as he sat there, a warm cup of tea between his large, rough hands, listening to Y/N’s soft and naturally quiet voice talk about the changes in the season, he finally realized it was more than just disappearing snow or dying leaves. 

  “And look there, you see the small buds on that tree right outside the shop,” Y/N gasped quietly, her arm shooting out to point to the tree that was once sagging under the weight of the snow. “Look how small, but in a few weeks time, those will be beautifully coloured, large leaves full of life.” She hummed, hand nestling back on her own teacup. 

  Oliver looked from the window, towards her, eyes flicking over her face as she stared out the window in sheer amazement. Suddenly, the stubborn and slightly obsessed Gryffindor Quidditch Captain that normally oozes self-confidence and never does anything at leisure, found himself slowing down and enjoying it. Enjoying the seconds ticking by when he wasn’t working on plays. Enjoying the hours he has spent just looking at nature (and Y/N) and listening to her. Her voice was a little shaky and quiet, but it was the most beautiful sound to him. Even better than the sound of the crowd cheering whenever the Gryffindor team won another game. 

  Even in the moments of silence as she just existed, sipping her tea as she basked in his company. For someone who was so used to hanging around rambunctious and loud Quidditch players, he never thought silence and stillness could be so welcoming. Sure, being friends with Percy, he found himself surrounded by silence as Percy read in his presence, but Oliver would always do his own thing. It was never silent because his head was always busy and loud. Now, with Y/N, his brain was quiet. It was kind of comforting. 

  “Reckon we should make a quick trip to Honeydukes before it gets busy?” Oliver asked gently, not to startle her as he pulled her from her thoughts. A smile stretched onto her face, soft eyes sparking at him in the late afternoon spring sun. There was a sweet spot to visit the popular candy store. He had never thought of it before, he always just went to Honeydukes. It wasn’t until their relationship hit the four month mark that he noticed. 

  They had been out strolling around Hogsmeade. It was relatively quiet along the cobblestone streets as they walked in comfortable silence, Y/N’s eyes seeming to admire the world around them in awe - as if this was her first time in Hogsmeade. Oliver found his eyes glued to the corners, watching her, his heart thumping in a way that both calmed him and scared him. The noise of the rambunctious groups pooling in and out of Honeydukes made her stutter in her steps, her body stiffening as her eyes shifted to the large crowd. 

  His own eyes shifting from her, he observed the ruckus without panic, but it was obvious she was. As they slowly sauntered closer to the mass of people, her body seemed to become more stiff, her pace slowing. “Hey, how about we just sit on this bench here? I kinda want to just sit without for a little bit.” Oliver suggested, gesturing to a bench that sat not far from them. 

  She looked at it, open-mouthed, before looking back at Oliver. “But it’s covered in snow,” She blinked up at him. Oliver shrugged, walking over to it. She followed easily, their joined hands keeping them attached. “Are you sure, Oliver? I don’t want to make you sit out in the cold.” She pointed out. She knew he was just doing it because she was nervous around crowds and the possibility of a forced conversation..  

  “It’s early March, it’s starting to warm up,” He brushed her off. There was a nip in the air, but it was just enough to tinge the end of one's nose red. Part of him found this an added bonus because despite the scarf she kept nuzzling her face in, Y/N’s cheeks and nose would have that slight discoloration he loved so much. Sometimes he had to search for it, but it was there and he found it adorable. With his free hand, he brushed partially melted snow off the bench. “You can sit on my lap if you’re comfortable, I don’t want your pants to get wet.” He settled himself onto the bench, their hands still connected as she stood there apprehensively. 

  “You know, I am okay with going into Honeydukes, as long as you’re with me I can handle the crowd-” She was cut off by his hand leaving hers, his arms quickly wrapping around her waist to pull her down onto his lap. She squeaked out in shock, eyes widened. “Oliver! Warning would have been nice, you scared me!” She gasped despite the fact she seemed to melt into him. 

  “Sorry, Love,” He smiled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “But I wasn’t going to let you drag me into Honeydukes and sacrifice your comfort just because you think I am cold,” He pressed his lips to her cheek as she unburied her face from her scarf. “We’ll wait until it starts to calm down.” 

  “Well,” She hummed, trying to uncover her watch from under her coat and mittens. Oliver helped, rolling her oversized, knitted mitten down slightly, revealing the watch she always wore. “It usually calms down at forty after the hour, it’s the quietest part aside from just before close-”

  “Which isn’t an option because you don’t want the workers to think you’re ignorant coming into a shop five minutes before closing,” He finished for her. She looked into his eyes, the smile that was covered by her scarf evident through the gleam in her eyes. “We’ll wait five minutes then go in. Then, we can go to the Three Broomsticks because at that time, usually the Twins will be pulling off some sort of stunt outside of Zokos.” 

____

  Y/N never thought of the Quidditch Pitch as a sanctuary for her to escape to. It was usually always loud in some way - or she thought it was. Boy, was she wrong. Before she met Oliver, she much preferred to avoid attention and noise. it was out of her comfort zone to be in fast paced social environments - such as Quidditch games. Oftentimes, she was usually found lounging in quiet areas of Hogwarts, but obviously, since dating Oliver, she frequented the Pitch more often. Either while he was practicing (team or alone) or while he was playing. More recently, she could be spotted under Oliver’s arm while he sat in the crowd watching the other team’s games. 

  Now, even when they didn’t make appearances at other games, their usual spot was always open. It was now known as Oliver and Y/N’s spots. Oliver had scouted them out once. Situated right at the top of the bleachers, Oliver had found a sweet spot where Y/N wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by over-eager people screaming. Sitting right next to the stairs, she could quickly escape if needed. When they were practicing, she sat in the front, her book carefully balanced on the edge of the railing. 

  Right now, she sat in her normal spot, the fall breeze whispering around her. Her large eyes were locked on Oliver as his brown eyes quickly moved around the pitch, watching everything with his incredible perceptive eyes. He always amazed her with his attention to detail - most likely from being such a good keeper. He noticed everything. He could sometimes spot the snitch before any of the Seekers. 

  “Hey, Y/N,” She blinked as she was startled by someone talking to her. Eyes searching the crowd in front of her, she spotted Seamus, his face painted in Gryffindor colours, a lion’s mane around his face. “Did Oliver tell you anything about his strategy in this game? Those nasty snakes are neck and neck with us! What is going through his head?” Seamus’ Irish accent got thicker and thicker as he got riled up. 

  She squeaked, face heating up as she felt a few people looking at her - also questioning the same thing. One thing about dating the captain, people had lots of questions and were upset when they were losing or had the possibility of falling behind in the game. “I-I’m not-” She swallowed thickly, pulling the scarf she wore up around her face, trying to hide within it. “Um, I don’t really, uh-” She licked her lips, a little bit of fuzz from the scarf falling catching on her lips and tongue. “No, he didn’t.” She answered, making everybody look away from her. 

  Sinking into her seat, her back against the wall, she let out a breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she cursed herself. ‘I couldn’t even answer a simple question! Stupid. Godric!’ She beat herself up before she let her eyes open at the sound of a shrill whistle. Instantly, her eyes met Oliver’s brown eyes. They were consumed by concern and a little bit of anger, but she knew it was directed to the people who made her uncomfortable. 

  “Gryffindor wins with Harry Potter catching the snitch! Starting off the season strong!” Lee’s voice boomed through the sound system, causing the stands to erupt in cheers (aside from the Slytherins who sneered at everyone as per usual). She could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as she stood, pulling the scarf down to show him her beaming smile. Sending him a thumbs up, she turned and made her way down the stairs. 

  She knew he would be waiting impatiently on the pitch right next to the tunnel he knew she would emerge from. “You won!” She exclaimed. Even in celebration, her voice was soft and quiet, but her face glowed in a way that far outweighed any form of vocalization. Without a second thought, she launched herself into his arms, legs and arms wrapping around him as his wrapped around her waist. Flush against each other, their faces buried within each other’s necks, they simply stayed like that. Oliver rocked them slightly, hands gripping each other’s clothes. They held each other in the most innocently desperate way, celebrating by feeling each other’s energies. 

  “Are you okay? They shouldn’t have been questioning you like that,” Oliver whispered into her hair, his breath tickling her neck slightly. She squealed, barely pulling away at the feeling. She could feel a slight smile stretching onto Oliver’s face at the reaction, but he turned serious a second later. “Reckon I need to make it clear that they can’t do that again.” 

  “It’s fine, Oliver-” She pulled away from him, hands coming up to cup his face. They couldn’t hear the wolf-whistles from the Weasley Twins (well, Y/N didn’t but Oliver did and instantly knew they were going to be in for a rough next practice). She took a look at his serious face, knowing she wasn’t going to convince him not to teach them a lesson. “Fine, but intimidating stares and empty threats only.” She told him sincerely. 

  “Fine by me.” He agreed, leaning in to press his lips to hers. She blushed furiously, all too aware of people looking at them, but she leaned into the kiss anyway - too desperate for a kiss to care (care enough to stop kissing him, but she knew she would be thinking about people watching once his lips left hers). 

____

  “It is blistering cold out Oliver, my fingers are about to fall off, where are we going?” Y/N questioned, her voice muffled by her scarf. He looked down at her, seeing her eyes securely behind the blindfold, both her hands gripping his arm the best they could with her oversized mittens. 

  “You will see in a minute.” He simply told her, making her huff. 

  “I don’t like surprises, Oliver.” She pouted, wiggling her face free from her scarf in order to show him the pout on her red tinged lips. She had a barely noticeable shade of lipstick on, wearing it specifically since it is her one-year anniversary with Oliver today. They were dressed nicely. Both had a pair of jeans and a warm sweater under their layers of winter wear. 

  “I know, Love, but you will like this one, I promise,” He reassured her, pressing a kiss to her hat-covered temple sweetly. She hummed, resting her head against Oliver’s bicep as he led her towards their destination, following in blindly. Looking down at her more as they slowly walked, he couldn’t help but let warmth bloom in his chest. Something about her snuggling into him as he led her to someplace, allowing him to lead her blindly. The amount of trust this showed she had in him warmed him against the bitter cold they walked in. “Okay, Love, we’re here.” 

  He could barely contain his smile as he gently pried her hands off him, walking behind her to untie the blindfold. “You took me to Greenhouse?” She questioned, eyes scanning the Greenhouse that stood in front of them.

  “Not any Greenhouse,” He exclaimed, carefully shuffling past her as they stood on a patch of ice. He pulled the small bit of cloth that covered the number on the door. Revealing the number one. “Greenhouse One! The Greenhouse I confessed my feelings to you in a year ago to this date. Even down to the hour!” He beamed as he opened the door for her. A blast of heat greeted them as he guided her into the room, a hand on her lower back to make sure she didn’t slip on the ice. 

  Her mouth fell open, looking around in amazement. The plants and tables that usually cluttered the center of the Greenhouse were pushed to the side, leaving space for a blanket and pillows to be laid out on the floor. Floating candles provided a flickering and a glowing amber light - the only light that illuminated the area aside from the winter sun that broke through the dirty windows on the Greenhouse in mini spotlights, dust swirling and dancing in them. 

  Turning around, Oliver closed the door, sealing the heat in the Greenhouse - the heating spell working brilliantly. When he turned around, he found his breath leaving him at the sight before him. She slowly walked further into the Greenhouse, eyes dancing around in amazement as she peeled her winter clothes off, starting with her hat and scarf. The golden rays hit her, illuminating her as if she were a work of art - just like they did a year ago at this time. As she pulled her mittens off, she reached out, touching the plant with the softest, most caring touch. Humming, she let the leaf of the plant go before dropping everything including her coat to the ground. 

  “This is beautiful, Oliver. I love it,” She whispered, looking back at him, eyes meeting his eyes in a zing like jolt, bringing him from his daze. He wanted to say the cliche line of ‘breathtakingly beautiful’ as he looked at her, but he was too taken by her standing there. All he could really do was stride towards her. ““Um, Oliver,” She whispered in a shaky voice as he didn’t say anything back to her, but his eyes were set with intent. “A-are you going to say something-” 

  She was cut off by his lips falling upon hers, his hands resting on her waist. They stumbled slightly from the force of his lips, but his hands gripped onto her waist, steadying them as her hands reached up to cup his cheeks, her lips moving with his in a sweet kiss. All their kisses were sweet. Innocent but rough (that thanks to Oliver’s need to show her how much he loved her). They stood there, lips locked in among the variety of beautifully growing plants, the smell of fresh soil and the fragrant tropical plants in the back corner of the Greenhouse - absorbed each other’s energies like the leaves of a plant absorbing sunlight; warm and energising. 

  “I love you.” He spoke against her lips before connecting their lips together. He was shocked when her hands were pushing his face away from hers, unable to pull herself away from the kiss due to him holding her flush against him, her back arching slightly.

  “I love you too, Oliver. So much.” She confessed to him, her wide eyes staring into his eyes, sparks exploding in her stomach as their eyes whispered heartwarming love between each other. And just like that, they both knew that the tales they would be telling until their last breaths would be tales of the infatuated, but Percy probably already knew that when he told Oliver everything that day.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Hey, I just read your Derry Girls 'your mum rang me' oliver wood one shot and was wondering if you could do like a weasley reader (maybe percys twin) and do the scene in last series in Derry Girls where erin and james kiss and Michelle is like 'this is incest!'

No problem if can't and sorry if I've spoiled!!! X

We're Not Related

Oliver Wood x Weasley!Reader 0.9k words Warnings: some kissing, potential Derry Girls spoilers Sorry this took so long! I've been in an absolute writing funk that I'm finally coming out of. Thank you for this request, I love getting to steal Derry Girls dialogue! I cackled writing this!

~

Oliver gazed down with a smile. His girlfriend- Merlin, he really got to call her his girlfriend!- was laying on his bed reading a book. The quiet, private time together made faking sick and skipping a trip to Hogsmeade worth it.

A tiny, quiet part of Oliver felt kind of guilty. As much as he tried to deny it, deep down inside he really did consider Percy Weasley a friend. Probably his best friend, oddly enough. The three of them had hung out regularly since their second year, sometimes adding Penelope Clearwater to the mix. So going behind his back and dating his twin sister was…. not something Oliver felt great about. But he wasn’t ready for whatever fallout would follow Percy finding out about them.

Instead, he watched her, her Weasley-red hair splayed out beneath her, his heart full of the affection he’d been carrying for the past three months. As if she could feel the heat of his gaze, she looked up, scrunching her freckled nose.

“You’re staring at me,” she observed with a little hum.

“And?” Oliver replied, his soft smile morphing into a smirk.

She shrugged, putting down her book. “D’you need something?”

Oliver helped her sit up and pulled her close to himself. “Nah, got everything I need right here.”

It was a cheesy line. Incredibly lame. It should have made her roll her eyes. But because it was Oliver Wood who said it, gazing at her with those honey eyes, his arms doing that flexing thing that drove her mad, it actually worked. Before she knew it, she and Oliver were locked in an embrace, lips moving in sync, hands gripping tight to wherever they landed. Just as Oliver was gently pushing her back onto the bed, the door opened-

“Oh, you sick, sick bastards.”

Percy Weasley stood in the doorway, Honeydukes package in his hand, his face even paler than usual as his wide eyes surveyed the scene before him.

His twin sister sat up, fixing her hair. “Listen, Percy-”

“This is incest!” Percy sputtered, absently tossing the chocolates onto his own bed. Chocolates he had bought in hopes that it would cheer up his supposedly sick roommate.

His definitely-not-sick roommate made a face. “No, it’s not.”

Percy nodded. “Yes, it is, Oliver.”

“We’re not related,” Oliver pointed out, gesturing between himself and the girl who should absolutely not be in the boys’ dorm, let alone on Oliver’s bed.

“Oh, and that makes it okay, I suppose?” Percy had never felt this level of disgust and abhorrence, and maybe even a little betrayal.

His sister snorted. “Well, it makes it not incest,” she mumbled.

Percy was pacing the small room at this point, his face now beginning to redden and match his smattering of freckles. “Right. Okay. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, and say that Oliver had a very nasty head injury from last night’s practice, and you-” He pointed to his sister. “-drank a botched batch of Amortentia, which has caused you to think that Wood here is an appropriate snogging partner.”

She huffed, now officially tired of her brother’s nonsense. “This is none of your business, Perce.”

The prefect’s face now matched his tie. “Oh, but it is, troll face.” His resorting to childhood insults was a sure sign of his anger. “It is very much my business. This can’t happen, okay? You two can’t get together because, putting aside the face that it makes me want to hurl, if you get together, you’ll break up, and then where does that leave me, Wood?” His gaze turned to Oliver, begging his roommate to understand. “You might be my best friend, but she’s my sister, and like it or not, I’ll have to stick with her. Don’t put me in that position.”

Oliver jumped off the bed and rushed to Percy’s side, placing a hand gently on the Weasley boy’s shoulder. “I’m your best friend, Weasley?” His honey eyes were wide, full of wonder.

“Of course,” Percy scoffed. “Aren’t I yours?”

For the first time, Oliver said the words every other Gryffindor already knew: “Yeah, you’re my best friend, Percy.”

The two boys stood, smiling at each other, relieved to finally admit their fondness for one another after years of grumbling whenever someone called them anything more than roommates.

The sound of someone clearing their throats brought them out of their tender moment.

“That’s great and all,” Percy’s sister- no, Oliver’s girlfriend- murmured. “But that doesn’t solve Percy’s… issue.”

Oliver’s cheeks reddened. “Right. Right.” He turned back to his best friend. “Listen, Weasley.” He straightened himself up. “I really like your sister. And we’ve been together three months now, and I’d like to keep seeing her. But I also don’t want to keep it secret from you anymore.” He shrugged. “I dunno. If you can’t trust your best friend to treat your sister right, who can ya trust?”

Percy narrowed his eyes a moment, turning over Oliver’s words in his mind. He had a point.

“You know if you hurt her, I know plenty of spells, right? And I’m not exactly going to punish myself for breaking any rules?”

Oliver nodded earnestly. “Yeah, yeah I know.” He gave Percy a small smack on the back. “We’re good then?”

With a sigh, Percy nodded. “We’re good.” He smiled at Oliver, the two of them officially lost in their own world.

Back on the bed, there came a small sigh. “Merlin, I wish we’d just kept this a secret.”

[letsgolandoo]

Omg thank you sooooo much for writing!! <3 Absolutely love the Puddlemere setting! And “I'm breaking up with you, or, dinner at eight?” part totally cracked me up 🤣 I wouldn’t dare change perfection! But I am however now curious as to what would happen if some guy was really checking the reader out 🤣

Let's find out, shall we? This took so long I'm sorry 😭

Oliver Wood never zoned out. He was a quidditch player, he didn't have the time to. If he did, he'd either let a quaffle through one of the three hoops, or he'd get hit by a bludger if one of the Weasley twins didn't get to it in time.

Fred Weasley sighed as he realised how little his quidditch captain had been listening to him talk about strategies to use to win their next game against Slytherin. "You know, I hate to admit it, but George is right. You do have a staring problem."

"No, I don't," Oliver said, so defensively that it sounded as if it was the most absurd and offensive thing he had ever heard, and his voice even went up an octave.

Fred said, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."

Oliver released a sarcastic chuckle. After being hit by bludgers from all directions, and letting in more quaffles than he could count in his first year or two as a keeper, there was nothing in the grounds of Hogwarts that could hurt him. He was put out, maybe, but not hurt. "I'm fine, Fred. Why would I be hurt?" He didn't say he was good, or great, he said he was 'fine' because that's how he hid how unstable his relationship with his girlfriend was. Fine. But wasn't that how everyone else answered the common question of 'how are you?', anyway? I'm fine, thank you, how are you?

Fred jerked his head in the direction that Oliver had been not so subtly staring at for the past ten minutes.

And there you were, in all your glory. Even wearing the Gryffindor colours - red and gold - like everyone else, you stood out.

He looked at you again and noticed the thing that had been irritating him. You were still talking to him. He hated the boy, and he hadn't even met him. And he had reasons for it - not good ones, but still reasons.

Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit?

Who the hell even wears a suit at a party with loud, rowdy teenagers?

Who the hell goes to a Gryffindor party when they're not a Gryffindor?

You were still smiling and talking with the Ravenclaw boy. That was okay. You loved to talk, and you smiled at everyone. What wasn't okay, however, was the way the boy was not so subtly checking you out.

"Oliver, why don't you just talk to her?" For a moment, Oliver is taken aback. He had forgotten that Fred was still sitting beside him.

"Tell who, what?" Oliver feigned nonchalance, averting his eyes from you.

Fred chuckled. "How many hers do you have in your life, Ollie?" None, Oliver thought, just her.

"I know many people who go by 'she/her'. You're going to have to be more specific."

"Sure. How many 'hers' do you stare at?"

"None," he replied, a little too fast for his liking, and Fred gave him the knowing Weasley smirk that he was so used to at quidditch practice.

"I am not staring at anyone, Fred." He gave the younger boy a pointed look.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Oliver. But I'd talk to her before it's too late. These rumours have damaged your relationship enough, all you need to do is show her that that's all it is - a rumour. She needs to know that you're not cheating on her with Angelina, who is, by the way, my girlfriend, so these rumours better be fake. I will not hesitate to punch that handsome face of yours."

Before he even knew what he was doing, Oliver was out of his chair and walking towards the bar. You laughed at something the blond boy said before you noticed Oliver walking towards the both of you. Your smile grew wider but was clearly slightly forced.

"Hey," he greeted you, completely ignoring the boy standing beside you.

"Hey, Ollie. Please tell me Fred didn't talk your ear off about skiving snack boxes. Being a prefect is hard, I can't bring myself to confiscate any more. Pranks are what make them who they are," you said.

The awkward clearing of a throat brought both of your attention back to the boy standing beside you.

"Oh, I am so sorry. Ollie, this is Finley. Do you remember the posters for the transfiguration club that Professor McGonagall put on the noticeboard?"

Oliver simply nodded, not at all interested in the boy's identity.

"He's the one who leads it with her." You introduce him to Finley, while Oliver seemed as uninterested as humanly possible and instead looked as if he would rip the boy's head off if he could.

"Hi, Ollie, I've...heard a lot about you." Finley said, clearly indicating that he had heard the ongoing rumours. He reached out a hand for Oliver to shake, but it was ignored.

"Oliver." He replied with a stern look on his face.

Finley awkwardly withdrew his hand. "Sorry?"

"My name is Oliver. It's only shortened for friends." If looks could kill, Finley would have fallen dead at the beginning of the party.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person, Oliver, the famous Gryffindor quidditch captain."

"I wish I could say the same, Finley, the not-so-famous transfiguration club captain. What are you even doing here? You're a Ravenclaw." Oliver asks, annoyed.

You sigh. Here he goes, you thought. "Ollie, he's here to spread word about the club."

"You've been standing here the whole time, you must be very talented if you've managed to tell anyone here about your stupid turn-your-teacup-into-a-cat club." Oliver muttered.

"The whole spreading word about it is just an excuse, really," Finley said, ignoring Oliver. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful girl." He then winked at you. "Clearly, I was successful."

You flushed at his words and your eyes darted to Oliver. His jaw was tense and his hands were clenched into fists. If the three of you were not in school, let alone standing in a room full of so many people, Oliver would have picked up the empty Butterbeer bottle from the nearby table and smashed it on Finley's head with no hesitation.

He instead just said, "Well, then, you don't have a reason to stay any longer. Leave."

Finley shrugged. "I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit. Gryffindors sure know how to party. Ravenclaws need some tips."

"You should stay. Our parties are the best. We have all you want. Food, drinks, g-" you tell him, but get cut off.

Oliver interrupted. "But you know what's better? The exit. You should check it out. The Fat Lady can give you a tour."

"Ollie!" You shove his shoulder. "Can I talk to you in private?" You sent Finley an apologetic smile before grabbing Oliver's hand and pulling him away from the Ravenclaw.

Oliver paused for a moment to look back at Finley again. "The exit is that way." He pointed at the passage in the wall.

You let go of him when you reach the only secluded area in the Gryffindor common room. "Oliver, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He immediately spun to face you after craning his neck to see Finley finally exiting the room through the passage. "Oh, so now it's me who has something wrong? You're the one who believes the rumour that I slept with Angelina when a) she's dating Fred, b) she's not even been at Hogwarts this year because of family issues, and c) I love you."

You looked slightly alarmed at him suddenly turning on you. "Okay, I got it wrong, I'm sorry. I believed something when I didn't have any proof. But how does that excuse your behaviour towards Finley?"

"He was flirting with you," Oliver argued.

"Ollie, you're acting like a spoilt 5-year-old now. Why are you-?" You stopped yourself as an amused grin spread on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oliver, you- you are jealous."

"No, love, no I am not. Not even a little bit. No, why would you think that? I'm not jealous. I don't get jealous." Oliver shook his head.

You grinned at your boyfriend. "I would have believed you if you hadn't denied it six times. You are jealous. You're jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and I didn't spend the night with you for once. You're jealous that he called me beautiful and said I look amazing in the simplest things."

"When did he-" Oliver cut himself off as he felt the rage creeping into his voice. He took a step back and turned away.

You stood beside him, about to say something, but then you looked into his eyes. You took his hand once again, this time gently, lovingly, and held it to your chest. "Ollie, I am- I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Ollie, I am so-"

"I'm not jealous, okay?" He then turned to look you in the eyes. "I just hate it when someone else has your attention, especially someone who's flirting with you. Not because I'm jealous, but because I'm scared." Oliver swallowed, squeezing your hand.

"I'm scared because I don't want anyone else to realise just how amazing you are. I don't want to lose you, because it'd be forever, and this is our final year here and I'd never see you again. And- and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else when I love you and nothing can change that. Not you, not graduation, not Finley,"

[fandomsforpotterheads]

Absent

Pairing: Snape x student!reader

Warnings: Mentions of insecurity, little anxiety

Requested: Yes, by anonymous!

Story: The reader is a target for teasing and getting picked on by Slytherins, when the worse of it happens just before a potions lesson, the reader decides not to show up.

Your house: Gryffindor

***

It’s something to feel like the whole world hates you, but it’s more personal when it comes to everyone in Hogwarts, even those who don’t know you or have yet to meet you.

It was never easy, but it’s something you’ve learned to cope with without coping. Just when you tell yourself that it can’t get any worse, it does. What comes next is that someone from Slytherin house had gone to all your friends with all the reasons not to be friends with you anymore and to your utter dismay, they had fallen for it and broke the friendship that was once there.

They were the friends that you’ve grown so close to, taking you back to the first year you’ve spent at Hogwarts. What comes next is almost incomprehensible as you’re now feeling that once looked at you as someone with a bright future now looked down on you like it’s the end of the world. There is one teacher in particular that fits into believing all these ridiculous rumors about you are true, that teacher being your potions professor, professor Snape. In the beginning, you seemed to be the only one who can walk out of the dungeon classroom without trouble or detention like most of the students in your class. Which was surprising, considering the fact that you’re a Gryffindor and it seemed to you that he not quite fond of any Gryffindor that walks the school. That is, until he met you, the star student of potions. You always saw it as Slytherin vs Gryffindor in literally everything, so when you turned down Malfoy’s invition to the Yule Ball, you had no doubt that he was already to get even with you, planning to come at you in his timing. All the while this was all happening to you, you knew better then to believe it was anyone but Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle to have been the ones to spread these rumors and gossip about you.

Who else could it be? You were right to believe it was Malfoy and his gang, as you would later find out that your suspicions were correct. It was best to put this all behind you and move forward, and things were going well until what happens next the following afternoon as you were making your way to your potions class. Malfoy and his gang caught up on you, immediately started to tease you and be such jerks. You considered skipping potions in the beginning because the last time you got to experience the same things as Harry whenever Snape would pick on him almost every class if not all. After this ‘run in’ with Malfoy, that made you have second thoughts before deciding you wouldn’t be attending your potions class this day.

Though this might land you in detention, but you decided that you could take the detention as this was the first time you had ever ditched a class in all your years in Hogwarts. You waited until you felt the coast was clear to finish your journey to the dungeons for the next potion lesson. As you peaked in, the hallways seemed empty and everything was quiet, the silence seemed to be telling you it was safe to step out and head the correct direction to take you where you needed to be. On your way there, you couldn’t help but think this was something that was a game for Malfoy. This was how everyday was like for you lately, you were late to class because you held in the hallway until the tardy bell rings.

It was infuriating and sometimes even embarrassing.

You were an easy target, but it was different when it comes down to this, you seemed to be more vulnerable to Malfoy. It sucked and that’s all you could really say about it at the moment, and when you tried talking to one of your former friends about, they only brushed you off and offered no help. They offered some ‘words of advice’ to you before fleeing.

“You’ve got to learn to stand up for yourself, (Y/n.)”

That’s it? What the hell? You could hardly believe it.

“Thanks..” you respond, sarcastically before storming off in anger.

That was the last you spoke to each other, she was no longer worth your time.

A lot of the time, you’d go visit Hagrid and after those visits, you started feeling better about the run in with Malfoy and his gang of pathetic losers. You’ve come to decide that Malfoy was the most loser of them all and lived a low life while having nothing to live for but riches and abuse it seems like. After these visits with Hagrid, you could easily walk back with all of this behind you. It was working, but as you were climbing the marble stairs to go to class, the memories of earlier events came flooding back and it made you feel uncomfortable to show up with an explanation. Having to feel this way, helped you to have second thoughts and decided to not attend this potions lesson and swap it for your first ever detention session with one of the hated teachers at Hogwarts. You could work your way through detention, you just couldn’t work your way around the teasing and harassment you get every day from other classmates.

As you seated yourself next to a window in the hallway, thoughts were spreading in your brain like wildfire, and it was very difficult for you to comprehend them. Most thoughts were unpleasant and made you feel sick to your stomach, they were thoughts of your sudden insecurities. Your mind goes places, and you were so lost in them that you didn’t notice you were no longer alone, until you felt someone was behind you. Of course, you didn’t turn to see who it was, immediately assuming it to be the one person you greatly despised.

“Who’s there? Let’s get this over with, what do you want?”

“An explanation of your absence, miss (L/n).”

Never would have guessed for the person behind you to be the potions professor.

“Oh.. ugh…”

“Yes?”

“I got held up in the halls on my way to your class, and it me got lost.”

“Held up by who?”

“That’s not important to know-“

“It is if you don’t want to lose house points and a three week detention.”

“Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you! But you won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

You then proceed to tell him about your run in with Malfoy, showing him the bruise you got after shoving you hard to the ground and stomping on your wrist as hard he could. It was enough to make you believe your arm or wrist was broken.

You end it off by telling him of your retreat to Hagrid’s hut to compose yourself before coming back.

When you were finished, you look to him and couldn’t quite guess the look on his face was telling you. The expression was hard to read so went along with a mix of anger and disbelief as he couldn’t comprehend on what you had just shared. After moments of silence, he releases a sigh before ordering you to go to madam Pomfrey and not to worry about your grade in potions that day. Of course, you nod and obey as the professor watches you heading to the hospital wing until you were out of sight, just before heading back to continue with his class. By the end of that day, friends from the past wanted to make amends as Harry was telling you about what happened upon Snape’s return to class.

You were beyond thrilled to learn Malfoy got sacked, in huge trouble along with Crabbe and Goyle. How it happened was that Snape called them over to his desk while everyone else quietly worked on the assignment they had been given. Everyone were witnesses to the scene unfolding, for most, it was like they were in a good dream they didn’t want to wake up from. Along with the detention, Snape had taken fifty house points from Slytherin, risking the loss of the house cup.

“Draco Malfoy needs to man up and accept the fact that he had it coming to him and brought this loss of points to himself.” Much to your delight, everyone agreed.

They all agreed before going back to enjoy the evening feast and times with friends. It was sudden when you begin to feel that someone had eyes on you, so you turn around to scan the Great Hall.

You turn behind yourself and sure enough, you meet the eyes of fury from Draco Malfoy. He was staring you down as the rest of Slytherin table ate in silence. No one there made a peep, not a sound could be heard from them.

Draco’s nostrils flared in anger when you stick your tongue at him in victory before turning back around to the feast and your friends.

Things couldn’t get any better then this.

***

@fandomsforpotterheads

Requests: Open

Character list:

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Oliver wood

Cedric Diggory

Neville Longbottom

Draco Malfoy

Snape

Tom Riddle

Please request things!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

[nickeverdeen]

Sure, but I’m sorry that this ain’t that good as you expected

————————————————————

Oliver Wood hcs

Smirking at the fact that he can call you his whenever someone asks if you two are a couple

Suprised, but also amazed at your street-dancing skills

Shows off with his Quidditch skills to you

I’m sorry, but he finds it extremely cool and hot whenever you speak Spanish

He is willing to learn from you

Eyebrows raising whenever you suprise or impress him with something

Oliver is very new to music so he’d get suprised at what you’re listening to

(No hate to you, love)

Compliments your figure and personality (many times the figure tho)

Oliver also likes summer just like you

He doesn’t really know what anxiety is so, baby you’d have to explain it to him

Asks of you wanna train Quidditch with him

Tries to impress you with whatever he can

Bad day? Here’s your favourite flower or chocolate

Makes sure no-one in the school makes fun of you in a bad way

Oli, is protective of you, but of course not overprotective

Oliver is indeed a responsible boyfriend, but… ⬇️

This boy can get sometimes cocky so be prepared

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

REQUESTS - IDEAS

if you have seen some of my lastest posts. you would notice that they are George weasley.

if you want to request something please feel free! because i need ideas.

but they don't just have to be for George!

other people i'm willing to write for are

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Oliver Wood

young or old marauders (Remus, Sirius and James)

Mattheo Riddle

Charlie Weasley

If you want to request anybody other than that I'll most definitely do my best to do it

either way, I'll try my best to do it as soon as possible.

I do x fem!reader but if you request male! or Gn! reader I will definitely do it.

[natashxromanovf]

okay, how about we do some dialogues please, i'm desperate

open for all fandoms

tagging some moots who i kindly ask to reblog this cause otherwise i get no requests lmaoo: @cxoffeeaddict @velvetcloxds @mirclealignr @oliverwoodmarrymepls @pregnant-piggy @leossmoonn @f4irydaydreams @sabstfu @sexysirius @jackys-stuff-blog

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Harry Potter + Female + Oliver Wood?

okay i had an oc for this kid a loooonnnnngggg time ago, like back when i first saw the movies at 13.....what a time lol

Name: Goldie Horner

Face Claim: Whitney Peak

Gender: Female

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Goldie is a Chaser for the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team. She is exceptionally quiet and soft-spoken most of the time, very intelligent and quick-witted when she wants to be, except when it comes to Quidditch. Quidditch is her passion. On the pitch, she is yelling about fouls and rules and chasing after the refs for a recall, but she's also cheering on her team with such ferocity. But as soon as she gets back into the locker room (and after she gives one of her classic speeches) she's back to being that quiet Ravenclaw girl who isn't very good at meeting new people.

If you are interested in taking this OC, please comment/message me!

[maeby-bby]

[ 9:27 a.m. ]

Walking into the coffee shop, you looked over the register, seeing who was working this morning. You had been coming to this shop for months, at first trying all the drinks and pastries they had to offer, before deciding on the drink you get regularly. The baristas knew you too, greeting you by name when you would come in to get your coffee in the mornings before going to your other morning classes. 

You made your way to the front of the small line, smiling at the barista who took your order. 

“The usual?” he asked, already putting your order down. “Yes, thank you, Oliver. These classes have been kicking my ass this week.”

“Some of my coworkers have been saying the same thing. Especially Ron, the poor guy hasn’t studied anything for the upcoming exams, Hermione has been furious about it.”

“I bet she is! I should be more focused on the exams but I keep getting distracted,” you laughed out. 

“I’ll have everyone start charging you more just for not studying,” Oliver joked, his eyes looking past you as another person entered the shop. “Go find a seat, Neville will be out with your order soon.”

You thanked Oliver again, and made your way to a small table close to the counter so you could watch the baristas work. You saw Oliver taking some more orders, another barista named Luna starting drinks and passing them to another worker, Neville, to finish it.

You had come to recognize most of the workers at the small shop from your previous visits over the semester, with Neville holding a dear place in your heart. 

He was a good barista, having a couple of plant pins on his apron, and was super kind to everyone. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t hope to see him when you came in for your coffee. There was something about the way he interacted with his coworkers and customers, spitting out cool facts about plants and the different things he learned from his classes.

“Here’s your coffee!” 

The sudden voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Looking up, you saw Neville standing next to your table. 

“Thank you!” you smiled as he nodded, turning around and walking back to finish other orders. 

You looked down to your drink, picking it up and turning it to see the name written on it. It was in Neville’s handwriting, spelling your name completely wrong. You chuckled, taking your phone out to take a picture of it. Sending it to your friends group chat, you captioned the picture with it happened again!!. Your friends sent back various just tell him already and you’re so in love just ask him out texts, making you laugh, causing Oliver to glance at you once from his spot at the register. You picked up your cup, turning it to show him the name written there. He squinted, read the handwriting, and let out a chuckle of his own before turning to Luna to tell her what had happened again.

Ever since you started coming to the shop, Neville had always spelt your name wrong. You never had the heart to correct him, causing both his coworkers and your friends to urge you to do so. But he just looked so happy to remember a regular, and you didn’t want to take that away from him. At some point you’d have to break the news to him, but today was definitely not that day for you. You picked up your things and acknowledged all three baristas before you walked out and started making your way to your next class.

[saltburnedme]

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: You’d only been visiting family at Saltburn for a few weeks, but this time you couldn’t shift the feeling of something or someone watching you.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), choking, stalking? Kind of?, two way mirrors, vague horror ish themes, dubious consent, generally fucked up smut overall

Writers note: Hi friends! This is my first Oliver fic, I’m planning on writing more so let me know if you have any requests. I’ve only seen the film once so I apologise if my writing of him isn’t quite right yet.. just read his parts with his accent and I think it works! Please share, comment, like and all of those good things 💕💕

Part 2

21 days, almost a full month, that’s how long it had taken you to get to grips with the enormity of Saltburn. Most of that time had been spent mistakenly walking into a linen closet which supplied one of the many bedrooms believing it was the entrance to your room. You’d even drawn yourself a map by this point and somehow, you still managed to get lost, the house was almost as much of a maze as the actual maze in the garden was. You had checked off your room, all of the shared spaces and most of the other bedrooms, inhabited or otherwise, all marked down perfectly on your little map. There was only one wing of the house which you were not allowed into, Elsbeth called it the ‘bachelor pad’ something you know Felix would have at the very least groaned at. He’d been sharing this space with his guest, another student named Oliver. He was quiet, a bit of a mystery overall but from that you assessed that he was a man who liked his privacy, making you chalk up their reluctance to have you in that space no more than a matter of comfort. A comfort you wish that you could say you felt also.

You visited Saltburn many times as a child, the family themselves were distant relatives of yours which is why you always summered there when your parents were away on business. You’d never felt uncomfortable there before, but this time something was different even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the heat getting to you, maybe it was the ever changing list of house guests that visited or the way that it seemed the eyes on the paintings of long dead aristocracy seemed to follow you around the room. Something had changed, if only you could put your finger on it.. or a toe.. maybe even an out stretched palm if you felt confident enough, anything to make this restlessness end. Every night that you laid in bed, you felt something, someone, watching you. You had checked, you’d opened every door, searched every shelf and wandered into every linen closet in the vicinity of your room and every time, nothing. Your well drawn map granting you no ease of mind, even with all of the labels you’d added to it over the last few weeks. The constant tossing and turning ceased only by one saving grace, you’d remembered to pack your vibrator.

Every night like clockwork your little buzzing friend would find the tingling mound between your legs, slipping in and out seamlessly like always, making you cum within a few minutes. That was until tonight, maybe you should have expected it. 21 days in a row of usage, the batteries were sure to go flat at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. Placing it into the draw of the bedside table you go back to the constant pacing feeling in your mind as you attempted to sleep. The watching feeling was back, the hairs on your arms standing up, the feeling of the familiar prickling at the back of your neck as if something dangerous was approaching from the shadows. But sleep finally took you, once again.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of the door early every morning tore you from your sleep, a much needed sleep. The curtains being torn open and the light hitting your face remind you of where you are almost immediately, at least this time with the maids in your room you knew who was watching you. ‘Breakfast is ready’ she says as she leaves the room as promptly as she arrived, off to wake another of the Saltburn family without a doubt. Crawling out of bed in your white night dress, you throw on a matching robe over the top, fumbling your slippers on, briefly checking your reflection in the full length mirror mounted to the wall across from your bed before wandering down the long halls to the breakfast table. Taking your usual seat you notice no one else has awoken yet, your tired eyes settling on the food in front of you, you almost fall asleep sitting up eating. The exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with you. ‘You looked frustrated last night’ a low voice utters quietly a few seats across from you, the low muttering making you jump out of your skin with shock.

‘Excuse me?’ You question, a puzzled look on your face which could have been mistaken for anger, your words coming out harsher than you expected. You see the man across from you almost retreat into himself, he’d barely uttered a word to you in the last 21 days and now this? Your mind immediately flashing back to your frustration at your vibrator unceremoniously dying on you, surely that isn’t what he refers to tho.. right? ‘Oh Oliver, I’m sorry, I’m so tired that came out poorly. what do you mean?’ You question, making Oliver un tense slightly.

‘I saw you looking for something last night’ he begins. ‘Anything I can help with?’ He questions.

‘Oh, That. I was just trying to get a better lay of the land. Every time i visit I swear this place is rearranged, it’s like a new house every time.’ You reply.

‘Sure, that must have been it’ he replies, no follow up, nothing. Although it was more of a conversation than you’d managed with him this whole time, you expected maybe something else would have come from this. He could have offered to help you, anything. Although you hadn’t spoken that much you’d find it hard to argue that you hadn’t developed a little crush on him, his dark hair in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, surely that would make any girl swoon.

Just as you finally thought of something to say, the thought of offering him an invitation to explore the mansion with you to further expand your map, the rest of the family arrived, keen to discuss plans for the day. Your hopes of getting to know Oliver better shattered once again.

You continued your day like normal, a dip in the pool, a little bit of reading, another trip to a random room to expand the map and eventually dinner and straight to bed.

Once again you were kept up, tonight you indulged in wine a little bit more than usual, the knowledge of the lack of batteries to fuel your only release weighing heavy on your mind.

Crawling into bed you listen to the creaking of the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound of the old house almost swaying in the breeze as if that were possible. You try to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs as you long for sleep subtly grinding against the palm of your hand as you crave the release you know you can’t have. The feeling growing stronger and your movements becoming more unsubtle as you move the covers off of you, the fabric of your night dress pooling up around your hips as you grind, longing for that familiar feeling. ‘Ugh, fuck sake’ you groan, it’s of no use. You roll over frustratedly, your face buried in pillows as you let out a silent scream. That’s when you hear it, the floorboards creaking, the sound too loud to be from the hallway and it wasn’t just creaking this time, footsteps. But it couldn’t be, you’d locked the door to your room, the only other way in was through the window which you had ensured was locked.

‘Hello?’ You ask tentatively, sitting bolt upright in bed at this point. You weren’t sure if you prayed for an answer or not, at least if there were an answer you’d know for certain that you weren’t alone. But no answer came.

2:41am, you’d checked the clock at least 20 times by now every time you had almost drifted to sleep another creak on the floorboards would tare you from your dreams. It sounded almost as if they were getting closer, they’d began earlier by your mirror and by now they were approaching the head of the bed. Sometimes you even thought you could feel something touching you, lightly re arranging the way your hair fell on the pillow, or something lightly tugging at the blanket that covered your body. But this time you felt it for sure.

The weight on the bed shifted, while you lay in the middle, the bed dipped on the side, the unmistakeable feeling of someone sitting at the side of the bed. Another second and you felt it, a hand on your ankle wrapped tight. Terrified you sit, unable to move. You never imagined this is how you’d be in this position, you’d scream and fight when you’d imagined this scenario previously but you were wrong, so wrong. You lay there silently, only when you felt the grip on your ankle tighten did you even let on that you were awake as you were harshly dragged down the bed, now splayed out in the middle. Before you could scream a hand smacks over your mouth with a slap, silencing any sound that could have come out of you.

‘What were you thinking about?’ A voice in the dark asks, an accent of some sort laced in his words surely belonging to the owner of the strong hands currently pinning you against the bed. ‘Who were you thinking about?’ The voice continues, more demanding this time as the accent becomes clearer, Oliver? Surely not. The sweet, quiet man who sits across from you silenced by his own nervousness every breakfast, it can’t be him. You try to answer, your words muffled by the hand over your mouth, although you’re sure it would be less of an answer and more of a demanding to get out of your room.

‘Was it me? Tell me it was me.’ He demands, his hand dropping from your mouth to your throat, wrapped around tightly grasping at the column of your neck.

‘I-I Uhm’ your reply coming out as nonsense. He was right, you had been thinking of him. You’d seen his physique while sunbathing, sneaking a glance when you believed no one would notice. But now with his hand wrapped around your neck and his body pressing into yours your mind was blank.

‘Answer me’ he demands, hand tightening as his face grows ever closer to yours. At this distance you swear you can almost see the moonlight shining through the window reflecting off of his blue eyes, glimmering at you.

‘You.. it was you’ you stutter out quietly, your words shocking even you as they come out breathy and quiet.

‘What a good girl you’ve been for me’ he says, his grip loosening on your throat as he glides his index finger down your cheek.

‘Bu-but how did you.. where.. what’ you question, a full sentence becoming too much for your brain to handle, but the man on top of you seems to have gotten the gist of your line of questioning.

‘I’ve been watching you’ he replies. ‘You and your little map. Wandering around like you own the place’ his words laced with venom. ‘I’ll admit you did make it harder for me. You thought you were so smart checking everywhere, you never bothered to check within your own room’. He continues as your eyes fight with the dark, darting around every corner of the room. That’s when you spot it, the light reflecting off of the mirror slightly wrong, it was almost as if the glass was rippling, the reflection always seeming a little off, it was a two way mirror. From the spot where it was mounted on the wall, you realised that it was pushed slightly further than usual, the story all making sense in your mind suddenly. You hadn’t been imaging things, you had heard footsteps inside the room, someone was watching you, Oliver.

‘Our rooms share a serving corridor as these old houses do sometimes’ he says as if it was an obvious fact, something everyone would know. He could see a million questions whirling behind your eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts as his soft fingers against your cheek suddenly turn into a slap, grasping your face turning your lips into a pout. ‘Now, I know what you do to sleep and I took the liberty of removing the batteries from your useless little toy there’ he sneers at you, you can almost feel his smirk against your lips as he comes in closer. This was nothing like the man you had vaguely come to know over the last few weeks, he was mean, cruel even and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you admitted that you liked it, you loved this version of Oliver. ‘I thought, just maybe if you’d get impatient enough you’d come to me yourself. But the little miss never came’ he continues, finding himself amusing at his own pun. ‘So I came to you’ putting extra emphasis on his words to make a point as to almost poke at you. ‘Now, I can either leave and go back to my room or I can help you with your predicament. Would you like that?’ He questions, still holding your face in his hands ensuring you look straight into his eyes as your head nods, partially guided by Oliver’s hand moving your face for you. ‘Good girl’ he places a light peck onto your lips. ‘The former was never really an option anyway, did you really think I could leave all this now that I have you here?’ His question sounding more like a statement, he didn’t care about your answer, he decided you belonged to him the moment he stepped into the room. His hand slips from your face, grasping your throat once more before climbing further onto the bed, throwing the covers off of you and pushing your night dress up.

He sighs, the view of you almost making him cum on the spot. Oliver never imagined he’d actually do it, sure he’d thought of the thousand ways he could take you, he wanted to bend you over and fuck your brains out over the breakfast table every morning for the last month and now, in this single sigh he released a months worth of frustration. His desperate hands kneading at the supple flesh of your thighs, roaming up to where he was at his most desperate for you. The moment the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit a jolt of electricity raced through your body, moving you with a shocked flinch against the bed. His eyes bore into yours as if almost warning you to stay still, a warning you would absolutely heed. His eyes transfixed on yours as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, gathering slick from your entrance just to return to your clit, your climax building from the moment he touched you. You were almost there, your peak was in sight you could feel it building when he tore his hand from you. A smirk pressed against his lips as he bent down to kiss you, he was proud, he ruined your orgasm and he was proud of it. Just as you settled into the lack of his touch, his lips hovering against yours he plunged his fingers into you, without warning a loud gasp leaving your lips. You knew you’d fucked up the moment the sound left your mouth, his fingers being pulled from you once more.

‘Good girls stay quiet, do you understand me? We wouldn’t want the rest of them finding out how much of a whore you are now would we?’ He sneers, your heart rate increasing as you nod your head again. ‘Such a good girl for me. I’ll make sure to reward you, just stay quiet for me’ he continues, his words softer this time as his fingers return to your warm, wet entrance.

It was harder to stay quiet than you expected. His pace was relentless and now as he kissed down your body, your night dress torn from you and the remaining scrap of fabric now discarded to the floor, the want to moan for him was overwhelming. This was only made worse when his lips wrapped around your sensitive mound. His tongue and fingers moving at the same time, sucking on your most sensitive parts like a man starved. He was desperate for you and now, you were for him. You couldn’t resist it and he could tell, your climax was imminent as you rocked your hips against his mouth. From watching you he knew that you covered your mouth with your hand or bit down onto your fist when you came in an attempt to muffle the sounds. To compensate for this, at the moment your shaking orgasm rippled through your body he shoved his fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own juices heavy on your tongue as he suckled and licked you through your peak, his eyes still fixed on yours.

You thought that was it, he said he wanted to help you and he had, you’d half expected him to leave when he tore his own shirt over his head, pushing his boxers down his thighs as he pushes your legs further open with the weight of his own body. With one hand next to your head and his other white knuckle grasping his cock he glided his length through the slick of your pussy. His lustful gaze had left yours now, favouring watching his tip spread you wide for him. Just as your eyes left his face to watch the sight between your legs you were interrupted. ‘Look at me’ he demands ‘I want to see the look on your face when I split you open’ his words being of continuous shock to you, where had your quiet kind man gone?

Although you’d hate to say he was correct, he was. Even with your drenched hole and your legs spread wide for him the burn as he entered you was real. He was unbelievably thick and long, his length impaling you again and again as he begins thrusting into you relentlessly. He was as desperate for release as you were, maybe you should have known, your sweet man in his full right mind would surely never break into your room and do this to you if he wasn’t desperate you reassured yourself. This can’t be the real him after all, it had to be an act.

These thoughts stayed with you for merely seconds as your eyes rejoined his as they flutter open, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan just like his. As if you could both feel the sound about to release your lips came crashing together, muffling the sound of your joint moans as his tongue slips into your month. It was a dirty, sinful act and you loved every second of it. You’d never felt this desperate for anyone in your life. You wanted him to cum inside you, breed you and make you his.

‘Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. Do you understand? I fucking own you’ he says, making you question if he has a future in a career in mind reading. He doesn’t wait for an answer taking the feeling of your walls tightening around his length as the only reply he would ever need again.

His pace quickens his body pressed against yours as his hand clasps over your mouth silencing you, your head held still as he glares into your eyes. You can feel it, his climax nearing, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as he breaks his own rule, groaning loudly into your kiss as he cums within you, his liquid filling you to the brim. The sound reverberates against the walls, someone must have heard that you think as he continues to fill you up. Just as you think he’d stopped, almost possessively he begins to move again. The feeling overwhelming both of your senses as he fucks his cum further into you before pulling out and repeating the same process with his fingers, watching a little bit trickle out before pushing it back inside you once more.

‘You’ll keep this inside you, you understand? You don’t get to clean yourself up’ he demands. ‘You’ll be a good girl for me tomorrow, at 10pm sharp you’ll get into the bath across the hall and wait for me. Got it?’ His demands continue as he places one last harsh kiss onto your lips, your eyes flickering closed for only a second, re opening when your kiss has parted. Just like that he was gone. His clothes, every part of him had left you almost without a trace. Your night dress torn on the floor you ponder how you’ll explain that to the maids in the morning as they’ll have to fix it. You cover yourself with the blanket again, your head pressed against the pillow as you finally go to sleep, the best you’ve slept in 21 days.

Part 2

Message to be added to the tag list! - current tag list: @idontevenknow1359

[itsphoenix0724]

Promises (Rhysand x Reader)

Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Rhys' trauma from under the mountain

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 2

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Rhys, but I apologize; this isn't the happiest thing! This takes place during ACOMAF, and I tried to keep it canon accurate. I may have diverged a little though! I really just needed to get some angst out from first week of school stress lol. If you ever want to interact with me my requests are open! As always constructive criticism is very welcome! I tried to makes this a realistic portrayl of real feelings and emotions. I hope you all enjoy even if it stamps on your heart a bit <3

You’re sitting at the dinner table in the Townhouse, nursing a glass of wine, when you feel your Husband’s power rumble into your bones. It normally feels comforting to you, but now all it does is further the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.

It’s been a long week. 

It was the first time that Rhys had called in his bargain with Feyre. You’ll always be eternally grateful for what Feyre did for your family, for your court, and the entirety of Prythian. It still didn’t stop the ugly jealousy that clawed at your insides at Rhys spending the week away from you with her. Especially after you learned about the dancing. You knew why it had to happen, you really did. He had explained everything to you in the tearful reunion after he returned from under the mountain. 

You hope Amarantha burned in whatever hell she crawled out from. 

“How was your first week,” you take another gulp of wine, trying to drown the spiders crawling up your throat. 

“I think she’s making some progress. Tamlin isn’t even teaching her how to read! Can you believe that? Even after he saw it almost kill her and his supposedly beloved emissary.” He rubbed out the crease forming between his eyebrows, maneuvering around the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “She was paper thin and so so pale.” he shook his head as he knocked back the liquor. 

“You didn’t come home the whole time.” You tried your best to keep the venom tamped down in your voice, you weren’t even really angry just confused. Judging by the way the muscles in his back tensed your endeavor had not been successful. 

You knew he would have to call in this bargain eventually you just didn’t expect him to ignore you the entire time she was here. He could’ve taken you with him, you had even expressed interest in meeting Feyre. You had wanted to thank her personally for everything she did to you and extend an olive branch for her time in your court. Rhys had shut down the idea immediately because he thought she might have been overwhelmed. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned around and looked at you from his spot leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him, staring straight at the grooves on the table. You sensed the defensive tone immediately. Rhys almost looks like a cat with all the hair raised on its back. Feline eyes sizing you up like he’s about to pounce on you.

“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have come home to even sleep. When I tried to reach you mind to mind your shields were up.” Your nails dig into the wood, leaving crescent marks in the pine. Rhys doesn’t have an answer for that when you meet his eyes. It almost looks like he’s looking through you instead of at you. 

“I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she tried to jump out a window.” He says the answer matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone you heard him use during the conferences he held with the citizens. He wasn’t exactly brushing you off, but it didn’t feel like he was listening to you either. 

“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Your voice cracked. You have been married to Rhys for almost one hundred years. You could tell when he was being shifty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you. Judging from that regretful look in his eye you were correct. 

“I thought you would react poorly. Clearly, I was correct.” The clipped tone is enough to send a white-hot bolt of anger through your body. 

“Do not blame your poor communication skills on me Rhysand.” The glare you fixed him with could have brought the monster that lurks in the bottom of the library to its knees, but Rhys just met your eyes with a steeled look of his own. 

“She needed help. She was begging somebody to come rescue her. She was withering away in the Spring Court! You know how many times I’ve been pulled from bed because she’s vomiting during the night-” Rhys sounded exasperated. But you were tired, so tired. 

“You’ve barely come to bed since you’ve been back.” Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but the deafening silence that followed your words made it sound like an explosion. You knew it was a low blow. Rhys sometimes couldn’t stomach sleeping in your bed after what Amarantha did to him. After he was startled awake one night a bolt of his power shot your sleeping form out of the bed because, in his nightmare-filled haze, he had mistaken you for her. He had felt awful, and now mostly slept in one of the guest rooms in fear that he would cause serious damage to you. You had tried to convince him, but he knew how powerful he could be, so you relented. 

“You don’t get to throw that in my face right now.” The growl that came from your husband sounded like cold black death. “She needs to be trained. She needs help-” all the pent-up emotion started to boil over inside you. Your airway got smaller, white noise was sounding through your head, and your eyes couldn’t focus on a spot infront of you. 

“I DO NOT CARE WHAT FEYRE NEEDS!” the boom in your voice surprised even you. Rhys took a step back, you rarely even raised your voice, let alone yelled at him. His eyes widened, but his flood of emotions quickly matched yours. 

“SHE SAVED ME! I PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!” The way Rhy’s voice ricocheted off the walls made you flinch. The pure night-kissed power had stolen the warmth from the room and all the air from your lungs. 

“You made promises to me too. Do you remember that?” your voice echoed out with calm fury as you slipped your ring off your finger and held it up to the light. “Do you remember the promises you made to me when you put this ring on my finger?” You didn’t even know where the rage was coming from, You weren’t angry, but it grabbed ahold like cold unforgiving ocean waves and kept pulling you farther into the eye of the hurricane. “You pledged to me your undying loyalty, your faithfulness, your honesty.” That last word coated your tongue in acid. 

It burned you and Rhys as it left your mouth. 

“Do you truly believe I have been unfaithful to you?” his voice grated out like shards of glass. However, in your current state, it seemed more condescending than questioning. 

“I believe you are not being honest with me. I have been married to you for practically 100 years, and have known you even longer. Do you think I don’t know when you’re not telling me something?”  You shot up from your seat and slammed your wedding ring on the table. His violet shield slipped for just a moment to see the hurt flash in his eyes. You haven’t taken that ring off since he gave it to you. 

“You are being irrational.” Rhys tried to step towards you, but you only backed away from him, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. 

“Why are you being so secretive about Feyre? She is engaged Rhys-you took her from her wedding. If she truly needed help why not bring her to Velaris? Why not let her meet me? Why not let her be happy with Tamlin?” The questions kept pouring out but the protective growl Rhysand made at your last statement had you recoiling. He had given himself away. He obviously knew it too, as he tried to step towards you. The tears kept pouring out as you shook your head. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Rhys finally hung his head in defeat as he slumped into one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stared at your trembling figure from the other side of the table. 

“She is my mate.” Your eyes widened in horror. It felt like the dinner you made earlier tonight was going to make another appearance on your kitchen floor. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Your voice was shaking with scarcely contained fury as you stormed up to the table. “I am your wife. I am your people’s queen. What more is there to think about? I thought you loved me.” A new wave of tears washed over you, and you swear you could hear your heart breaking. It was so loud. You wonder if Rhys could hear it too. 

“Of course I love you!” he looked at you with desperation and pleading in his eyes. “It’s just more complicated.” You shook your head at him as your sobs finally flowed out of your body. 

“It shouldn’t be complicated,” you heaved out through the tears “You promised to choose me every day. If you can’t do that I can’t be here.” You turn from the table and march up the stairs. You distantly hear Rhys get up and follow you to your room as you shove clothes inside a bag. 

“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” His eyes widened in horror as he tried to grab the items out of your hands. “Darling-”

“Do not call me that right now.” You manage to sniff out the words behind the tears. “I just can’t be here if you cannot choose me. There shouldn’t even be a question.” 

“Where will you go?” He at least had it in him to sound concerned about your well-being. 

“I don’t know, anywhere but here.” You shoved the last thing in your suitcase and winnowed away without another word. You left Rhysand in your house, with your ring sitting on the table. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for the rest of the night, nursing a bottle of whisky and running over the cool sapphire with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t know if you were ever coming back. He didn’t know where you went. 

What the fuck had he done?

[letsgolandoo]

Hihi! Can I request a Oliver Wood x Reader (she/her) fic where they’re dating (post graduation)— he gets jealous when some other dude is checking her out, but she’s clueless 😅 Thank you <3

heyy of course! if it's not what you wanted, lmk and I'll change it <3 I wasn't sure what setting you wanted it in so I did it at Puddlemere United quidditch practice but I can always rewrite :)

You, as his girlfriend, knew that Oliver didn't like to lose. That meant failing exams, losing a quidditch match, and losing you. However, now that he was no longer a student at Hogwarts, he had no exams. Now that he was in Puddlemere United's reserve team, he still played, but, as the name said, he was a reserve. He didn't have as much playing time as he did back when he was in Gryffindor, he was a second choice, so he didn't feel as if the blame for losing rested on his shoulders only. And he was lucky enough to never have lost you. Sure, your relationship had had its share of complications, but the two of you had overcome them together. He loved you, you loved him, and that was all that mattered.

So as you watched him train in the air with his new professional quidditch team, your eyes were focused solely on your boyfriend. You didn't even notice the young man sitting three seats to your left, his head turned at a forty-five-degree angle so that he was able to check you out but play it off as watching the players train. Oliver did, though.

He'd never been the jealous type, but that was before he dated you. The two of you met on the Hogwarts Express, having both had no friends at the time, and shared a compartment when all others were full. That sparked a friendship, and when fifth year came around, so did the start of a romance between the both of you.

You noticed something was wrong by the stiff expression that had suddenly sprang upon your boyfriend's face. His lips were set in a thin, straight line, his jaw was clenched, and his eyes glared as he looked in your direction.

But then you noticed that he wasn't really looking at you, rather at the man sat on your left. He looked around your age - nineteen, nearing twenty - with a handsome face, a muscular, well-built physique, and tanned skin. He had sea-green eyes and bronze hair which was unkempt as if he had just woken up, yet he pulled it off in a way that not many could. And in his arms, was a labrador puppy, with paws far too large for its body, as expected from dogs like labradors and golden retrievers.

But you weren't at all interested in the man or his gorgeous puppy; you were wondering why Oliver had set eyes on the man and seemed to hate him instantly. The poor guy had done nothing wrong - he'd sat three seats away from you in silence, watching the game. You didn't understand why Oliver was descending on his broom, looking at you, and jerking his head to your right.

You looked, and there was nothing there.

Having failed to communicate his message, he mouthed something, but you'd never been great at lip reading. The only part you understood was when he mouthed your name, but everything after that could have been anything. I'm breaking up with you, or, dinner at eight?

With a sigh, Oliver reached the ground, hopping off his broom as soon as his feet touched the grass that only just concealed the hard dirt beneath. He disappeared for a minute or so before he popped up at your side. Taking your hand, he pulled you into a standing position and tugged you several feet away from your original seat.

"You're mine, you understand?" Oliver said possessively, looking you directly in the eye.

You frowned. "Well, you don't own me-"

"No, no," Oliver laughed, though it sounded forced. "That's not what I meant. As in you're my girlfriend, are you not?"

"Yes," you replied slowly, an eyebrow raised.

"So why are you allowing another man to practically undress you with his eyes when you're dating me?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow of his own.

Your head immediately turned to the man who had sat close to you. He was watching the team practise. "What do you mean? He's been watching the quidditch the entire time, Ollie."

"Oblivious, as always," Oliver sighed. "You're beautiful, okay? I know that, you know that, and everyone else on earth knows that. And it's not the first time I've seen someone checking you out, but we've still got another half hour until practise is over, and it'd make me more comfortable if you could move...away from him."

You looked at the man again and laughed. "That man's married, Ollie. I don't know what you're worried about."

Then the woman who had previously been sitting next to a friend walked past and sat next to the man, kissing him. And suddenly Oliver felt like an idiot, because he hadn't been checking you out, he'd been watching his wife.

[fandomsforpotterheads]

The sweater

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Hufflepuff!reader

Warnings: None

Request: @kaleidascope1967

Story:

Would you be interested in doing prompt #13 with Oliver and a Hufflepuff!reader? Thanks!

Prompt 13:

“I can’t believe how a few months ago, I really wanted to know your name, and now here you are.. eating breakfast with me in my sweater

Your house: Hufflepuff

***

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you do remember that what had woke you was the sound and feeling of your stomach growling with hunger.

Hogwarts just had to be the best thing to ever happen in your life because if it weren’t for the school, you probably never would have met boyfriend, Oliver Wood. Just the week before, the two of you had met for the first time, all it took for that encounter was Quidditch. You had become one of the team with the position as a Keeper.

Oliver was going through the basics of the game and told you how it worked in the best way possible while giving advice at the same time. Despite all the practices, you felt that even still, you weren’t good enough to be part of the team, let alone the game itself. Confidence is what you had lacked, soon becoming one of your greatest weaknesses. It was the day of the game and you were sitting on your broom as it was beginning. During the game, you try blocking the bludger and it caused you to nearly fall off to the field below you. Nearly falling over, that was something that shook your confidence and Oliver seemed to have noticed before flying over.

“You alright, (Y/n)?”

You couldn’t like directly at him for what you were about to say next.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

You’re embarrassed to have said that, although it’s the truth.

Unlike many of the others, Oliver was tender hearted and therefore gave you what you needed to continue onward the game. It was the encouraging words you were about to receive that made you fall for him.

“You can do this, (Y/n). You can and you will, I’m not going to give up on you so easily, and neither are you. I truly believe you can do it, and besides, the game is not over yet.”

Just like that, he flew away to where he was in the start.

That’s how the friendship started before it had become something more in the following weeks.

(Present day)

It was the coolness from the sudden breeze that woke you and brought you back to reality, kind of an rude awakening.

The cool air made you shiver and to want have need to be warm quickly before joining Oliver for breakfast. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot your boyfriend’s sweater you sometimes wear hanging at the foot of your bed. So you grab it before taking off for the Great Hall. Oliver wasn’t hard to find, he was with Harry discussing a quidditch match when you had arrived at the table to join them. When you did, the first greeting from Oliver made your heart flutter with the love it contains for Oliver against your chest as you felt pretty flattered by his words. First, he puts a huge grin on his face before saying anything more.

“What is it? Am I overly dressed or something?” You tease, Harry chuckling softly at your teasing.

“Naw, it’s just that I can’t believe how a few months ago, I really wanted to know your name and now, here you are… about to have breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“A few months ago?”

“What? You think I haven’t noticed you around? The whole time? Come on, (Y/n), it was love at first sight for me the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

Your heart rate picks up, but from the flattery you were starting to feel… you really couldn’t believe what he had just said.

Just out of the blue, Oliver leans in as he was slowly pulling you towards him until your lips met and locked with each other. Pulling away, the two of you look deep with eye contact before Oliver speaks up.

“You have no idea how much I love you, (Y/n).”

You smile up at him, still locked in his warm embrace.

“I love you more, Oliver.”

This turned into a beautiful memory to hold for the future.

For you future together.

***

@fandomsforpotterheads

Character list:

• Harry Potter

• Ron Weasley

• George

• Fred Weasley

• Neville Longbottom

• Oliver Wood

• Viktor Krum

• Draco Malfoy

• Tom Riddle

• Snape

Requests: Open

[offolklcre]

𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝

wizard.

NAME Oliver Wood. AGE Mid 20s. GENDER Male (he/him). ORIENTATION Bisexual. ORIGIN Wizard (half-blood). NATIONALITY Scottish. AFFILIATION Puddlemere United, formerly Gryffindor house. OCCUPATION Keeper. ABILITIES Magic. HEIGHT 6 feet, 2 inches. FACE CLAIM Max Irons. SOURCE Harry Potter series.

WANTED SHIPS Cedric Diggory, Charlie Weasley, and Viktor Krum.

[whorediaries-09]

oneshot in which reader is drunk and desperate for sex but james feels like she'd give her consent drunkenly so it wouldn't be proper consent, but she's begging, and he eats her out and she's babbling out thank you's

hi love, thank you for sending in the request. i quite literally am in love with it.

meddle about;

pairing- fdad!james potter x reader warning(s)- age gap (nothing borderline illegal), 18+ content, mention of alcohol. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- might make a part two if ya'll want to.

ps- okay so for better understanding, reader is harry's friend and is as the same age as oliver wood.

the slut club early winter event

'cause it's not just a figure of speech you got me down on my knees

you're warm. you don't know whether it's because of the alcohol stimulating every inch within you, or because you can feel your friend's dad's toned thighs underneath yours. either ways, it's a nice feeling that fills you up. to be on a motorbike, your shoulders clad in a sweater that isn't yours, riding under the stars under the lucent light of the streetlights. it's blinding you think, how your heart beats with how tightly pressed you are against his back.

it wasn't supposed to be him picking you up. you had called harry, and somehow his dad was there, a few moments later. you were drunk, and similarity of their features had fogged you for a few moments. you'd successfully stopped yourself from hugging him like he was your best friend. he'd smiled at your dumb found expression, before his eyes raked over your figure, the skimpy dress upon your body. mid november, you stood, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. he took of his sweater and made you wear it.

you remember yourself asking what he was doing with sirius' motorbike. you remember his grin while he elaborated his explanations, slowly so you could catch up,

'i'm learning how to ride one. and besides my car is at the mechanics. the broom wouldn't exactly be okay if i just carried it to a muggle bar, and well disapparating is really complicated when one is drunk.'

so that's how you ended up here, on the warm couch of james potter, exhaustion dripping of your body.

'hi,' you blink, as he appears with a bunch of things on a tray. he offers you a subtle smile, setting the tray on the coffee table. his hands cup your cheeks, while he makes sure you're watching him, and your subconscious is with the moment.

'hey, dove. i'll wipe your makeup off okay?' he asks, the question tearing off softly from his lips. you stare at his lips longer than you intended to, longer than it was appropriate,

'yeah, yeah,' you nod. his hands work with the packet of wipes, slowly rubbing the cleanser soaked sheet over your face, wiping off your unsettled makeup.

your mind swirls south. his hot breath is fanning over your face, hand holding your face in place while his tongue prods out from between his lips. you inch closer to him, your knees touching with his. you feel the edge of his nose almost touch yours and you shudder. it's a weird feeling of warmth that pools in your stomach when you think how his lips would taste against yours. you wonder how his strong hands would grip you, while he'd rut his cock into you. you wonder how his voice would sound while he'd whisper sensual words in your ears.

with utmost adoration, you look into his hazel eyes. the moonlight beams through the window, enlightening the softness of his eyes. you feel his breath hitch as you move closer to his face, tilting your neck. he gulps, his heart beating against his throat.

'we shouldn't do this...' he whispers. but he doesn't let go of your face.

'but i want to. i need you mr. potter, so bad,'

your world collapses. his lips entangle with yours, as he pulls you closer to his body. he ravages your mouth with his tongue, exploring every bit there is left untouched. he sucks on your teeth, bits on your lip, and caresses your body as if he's got it memorized, as if he's got you written across his mind. he kisses you as if you'd flee if he left you. he devours with his passion, consuming you whole.

you think he might kiss you till you're lips are blue. he tastes of cinnamon and oranges. you're breathless by the time he leaves you, with a little shake. he grunts, trying to scoot away from you, but the beauty of your swollen lips and disgruntled sighs leaving your mouth leaves him mesmerized.

'fuck,' he says. you raise an eyebrow, moving towards him. he stands up.

'what's wrong?'

'no...i don't think we should do this-this is wrong-'

'i need you, please, please have me,' you beg. he's standing against the wall, your hands wrapped around him, pushing him towards the wall behind him.

'no no, you're drunk,' he says. you bite your lip,

'i maybe drunk, but i want you. i wanted you sober, i want you drunk,' you insist. he looks down upon you, contemplating your words. your fingers reek over his chest, trailing up to his neck. your finger entangle with his curls, and you bring his face down.

'feel my cunt, it's so wet, just for you,' you mumble against his lips. his breath shudders. he takes a deep breath, inhaling in you. his hands arm around your hips, wrapping your legs aground his hips. he dives into your mouth, pushing away things strewn across the hall, taking you to his bedroom. his hand fumbles with the door, as he locks it.

he pushes you on his bed, his hands not fast enough to get rid of the dress you're wearing.

*****

it's maddening, the pace his tongue works on your clit. you're over the edge of the bed, your legs spread apart, his face buried into your pussy. filthy moans leave your mouth, as his tongue dives into your cunt, devouring you better than your wildest dreams could ever. you'd dreamt about his face buried between your thighs, while he ate you out and made you scream till your throat was raw.

'ple-please,' you beg, rutting your hips into his mouth. you feel him smile against you, the frame of his metal glasses cold against your hot skin. his finger circles over your clit,

'you taste so good sweetheart,' he croons. you numbly nod your head, fondling with your breasts.

'thank you,'

he shoves his finger inside your sopping cunt, diving his mouth between your legs again. he licks a stripe up your slit, curling his finger inside you as he sucks upon your sensitive bud. he swirls his tongue, spitting on your cunt, rhythmically moving his fingers. your breathing rate increases, stomach rising and falling as you feel the coil of orgasm build within your guts. your hand reaches his head full of curls, pushing his face closer to your dripping cunt. your thighs wrap around his head, and you scream.

'fuc-fuck i'm so close,'

he hums, the vibration sending chills down your spine. he increases the pace of his fingers, feeling your walls clench around him.

'oh fuck, fuck, thank you, thank you-' you slur, as your toes curl, and eyes roll backwards. your hips rise, and he growls,

'god cum on my tongue,'

you vigorously nod your head, moving your cunt against his splayed out tongue, letting your orgasm grip you. you release your juices on his tongue, and he devours you, lapping up every inch of your juices on his tongue.

'thank you, thank you, fuck, thank you,' you babble, mindlessly.

he stands up, his cock erect and huge in all its glory. he holds you by your neck, making you sit on your knees, the fabric of the carpet digging into your skin.

'now you're gonna return the favor won't you, love?' he whispers.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Being Weird Is Cool

(SingleDad!Eddie Munson x SingleMom!Reader)

Summary: You and your son are new to Hawkins and meet Eddie and his daughter at the park. WK: 1.7K

Warnings: None really, this is just a fluffy sweet little self indulgent meet cute. Eddie and Reader are in their mid 20s and their kids are around 5 going into Kindergarten. Modern AU. Reader is implied to be alternative but it doesn’t have to be read that way.🩵 But as always, my blog is still 18+

A/N: So this is just a cute little blurb that came to me. I always see single dad Eddie but I hardly ever see single mom reader so I thought this would be cuteee. My son has a speech condition and I never see kids with special needs in fics so this is just something small n cute n close to my heart. Maybe I’ll turn it into a series of blurbs about these four, we will see. If anyone has any ideas/requests for these four I’d totally be open to writing them. 🤭🖤Part 2 - My Masterlist - Series Masterlist

“Excuse me, is that your child?”

You looked up from your phone, hearing the voice of an irritated sounding woman, ready to defend your son at a moment's notice. But when you looked up she wasn’t talking to you, she was standing in front of the man who was sitting on the bench next to yours. A scowl on her face, her hands on her hips, and a pudgy little boy with tears in his eyes and chocolate smudged all over him by her side. She tilted her head towards the little girl across the playground that had been playing with your son since you got here. She was very clearly this man’s daughter by the way the unruly brown curls on their heads matched. She was sitting on the ground next to your son with her hand on his shoulder, seemingly comforting him.

“Yeah, she’s mine. What’s up?” The man sounded annoyed, rightfully so.

“Well, she just made my son cry.” The woman scoffed.

He raised an eyebrow at her, looking at your kids then back at her.

“What happened?”

“Apparently she yelled in his face and pushed him over, you really need to teach your daughter how to behave.” The woman’s dirty blonde ponytail that was so tight it looked like it was going to make her eyes bulge he out of her head waved from side to side as she spoke.

“Charlotte! Can you come over here please?” The man called to his daughter, waving her over.

You watched as she stood, dusting wood chips off her black white colored dress before reaching her hand out to your son. She pulled him behind her as she walked over with a determined look on her face.

“Daddy! That little boy was mean to my friend! He told him he was weird and was mocking fun of his voice!” She stomped a little black booted foot and pointed her finger towards the boy in question.

“Charlotte… honey, did you push him over?” He asked her as he stood to his feet, crouching down so he was eye level with her.

At this point you had fully turned your body in their direction, ready to intervene.

“Oli, are you okay baby?” You asked him gently.

“Mommy!!!” He ran over to you and wrapped his arms around your legs, burying his face into your knees.

“What happened honey?” You ran your fingers through his hair and he buried his face further into you. You look over at the man beside you, who looks at you apologetically before turning back to his daughter.

“Char… did you push that boy over there?”

“Yes! But-“

“Hey, no buts, okay? We don’t push people no matter what they do, it's not okay to push.” He told her and he gently rested a large ringed hand on her little shoulder.

“Okay daddy…” she looked down at her little feet with her hands behind her back, bashful.

“Now, do you want to tell me what happened? Calmly.” He titled his head so she was looking him in the eyes again and she pouted. “Come on baby, we can’t fix it if we don’t know.”

“Her PUSHED me! I was just trying play with them and she yelled and pushed!” The little boy spoke up, pointing at her from behind his moms legs.

“No! No! Mean!” Your son, Oliver, who was normally very soft spoken and shy raised his head from your knees to yell at the other boy.

“Okay whoa whoa whoa, let’s everybody calm down.” You looked down at Oli and smiled, rubbing soft circles on his back to try and keep him calm.

“Hey sweetie, your name is Charlotte, right?” You asked her.

“Mhm” She stuck her bottom lip out and nodded.

“Can you tell us what happened please?”

“Yes! That kid!” She pointed and glared at the chocolate covered boy “was being mean to MY new friend! He was mocking fun of his voice and calling him weird! But that’s just not nice!”

It didn’t take you long to figure out what she meant, Oliver was a late talker and very shy. He didn’t talk much and when he did it was only to people he was comfortable with. This wasn’t the first and probably wouldn’t be the last time this happened. Most parents didn’t take the time to teach their kids that everyone is different so you’ve had to take it upon yourself to explain it to them on more than one occasion.

“So that other little boy was being mean to Oli about his voice and you stood up for him, right?”

“Yes! I didn’t want him to play with us and he wouldn’t go away and kept mocking fun of him! so I told him my dad said being weird is cool and I MADE him go away!” She was still stomping her little foot and pointing her little finger at the kid and you had to hold in a laugh at how cute she was.

“Well thank you for standing up for him honey, that’s very sweet of you. But I don’t think your daddy wants you to push people even if they’re mean, right?” You look over to her dad and make eye contact, silently asking for backup.

“Yeah baby, it’s very nice of you to stand up for your friend but I want you to apologize to that little boy for pushing him over, okay?” He put his hand on her back and tilted his head toward the boy and his mother.

“Well is him gonna say sorry? To my friend?” She narrowed her eyes at her father and looked between him and the other child.

“He has nothing to say sorry for! You pushed him! And maybe his mother needs to teach him how to communicate better!” She definitely should not have fucking said that.

“Fucking excuse me???” You stood up and walked past Oliver and straight up to the woman’s pinched face. “We were trying to do the right thing and teach our kids that hitting is never okay but if you want to play it like that?? Okay. How about you teach your son how to treat people? That everyone’s different and it’s not okay to just talk down to people because you don’t understand them? How about you wipe his fucking face and get the fuck out of mine before I show them that maybe hitting isn’t so bad after all.” You practically growled, your eyes boring into hers.

“You people are fucking insane, who let people like you even have children??” She gasped before turning on her heel and leaving the park, dragging her son behind her.

“Fucking bitch.” You scoffed, turning to Oliver and crouching down in front of him. “You okay baby?”

“Yeah mama, okay.” He smiled at you and gave you a thumbs up.

“That was fucking awesome.” The man next to you chuckled and slapped his thigh. “Her face!! She couldn’t even believe you were talking to her like that!!” He laughed.

You looked over at him and smiled, this was the first time you were really looking at him and wow. He was beautiful. You had already noticed his hair but now that you’re looking directly at him you can see his pretty brown eyes, and plush pink lips. When he smiles you see two cute little dimples appear on each side of his mouth and he’s dressed really cute too. Ripped jeans, old band tee, beat up sneakers and a leather jacket. Damn.

“I promise you that is not the first time I’ve dealt with a woman like that and I’m positive it will not be the last.” You chuckled.

“Well you handled it like a goddess, if I was a woman I might’ve punched her.”

“Well I absolutely wanted to.” You both started busting up laughing.

“I’m Eddie, by the way, and you already met Charlotte.” He smiled at you and extended his hand, you took it and told him your name in return.

“And this is Oliver, who you already kinda sorta not really met.” You gestured to your son and Charlotte came bounding over.

“Oli! You want play with me still?” She smiled big at him.

“Yep! Mhm!” He clapped.

“Gotta catch meeeee then!!!!” She ran off towards the playground and he went chasing after her.

“You’re a good dad, not a lot of kids take the time to understand that other kids are different, just because they aren’t taught that at home. You clearly teach her well.” You said with a smile.

“Yeah, I try to teach her that everyone’s different. I mean look at me, it’s not like I had the easiest time growing up, or even now other parents judge me and look down on me for being a single dad and well, just being me. I never want her to feel like that.” He watched his daughter run after your son with a fond smile.

“Yeah” You looked down at your own ripped jean shorts and tights and smiled. “Yeah, I think I get that.”

“Are you guys new in town? I haven’t seen you around and I think I’ve seen everyone in this town at least once”

“Oh, yeah, me and him just moved here last week so we don’t really know anyone yet. I’m hoping once the kids start school next month he will have a bit of an easier time making friends.” You sighed. “He’s just really shy, he has a hard time talking and he gets really nervous.”

“Well, it looks like he already has one friend.” He smiled at you and pointed towards the playground where Oli was pushing Charlotte on the swing.

“Looks like it.” You looked over at Eddie and smiled.

“And that goes for you too, you know? You have one friend now too, if you want.” He smiled at you hopefully, those cute dimples showing.

“Yeah? I think I’d like that.” You felt your face warm when you smiled back at him.

“We were going to get ice cream after this, do you guys want to come? It’s just down the street we usually walk from here.”

“That actually sounds really nice Eddie, thank you.”

“KIDS!!! Ice cream!!?!!” He yelled the magic words and huge grins spread across both their faces as they came running full speed towards you.

Maybe Hawkins wouldn’t be so bad.