#oliver wood x reader one shot

[7s3ven]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU. oliver wood

( master list )

IN WHICH… Nothing would make Oliver Wood happier than getting a new broom as his Christmas present. That, or Y/N Malfoy finally noticing him. When the two collide at Hogsmeade, Oliver is overjoyed. Perhaps this Christmas, he’ll get two gifts.

“I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you.”

—

“Ah, he’s staring again.” Fred Weasley nudged his twin brother George and pointed over at Oliver. “Do you think he’ll ever actually talk to her?”

“I’ve seen them talk once.” George uttered, his mouth full and his cheeks puffed out. “It was in their second year.”

Fred lightly snorted and waved a hand in front of Oliver’s face. “Wood, you there? You’re drooling this time while staring at her.”

Oliver was snapped out of his trance by the twins’ loud laughter. He frowned. “Knock it off.” He told the pair, taking a sip from his goblet.

“Oh, come on mate, you gotta talk to L/N otherwise she won’t even know you exist.” Fred sighed and quickly added, “And quidditch talk doesn’t count.”

Oliver huffed and rolled his eyes. Talking to Y/N was an almost impossible feat, not just to him. She was Draco Malfoy’s older sister and was basically untouchable. She was Slytherin’s prized queen and the chances of Oliver even being able to talk to her with her posse around was close to zero.

“I’ll talk to her eventually.” He uttered the same excuse he had been using since fourth year. His crush had lasted way too long but he was still determined to win Y/N over.

She wasn’t like the other Slytherins with their mean glares and tendencies to outcast people who weren’t pureblood. She was… nice. Her friends, however, weren’t.

“You’ve fancied her since third year, Oli.” Fred uttered, “Probably before that as well! Just make a move already!”

Oliver’s crush hadn’t begun during first year. It had started before that when he was rushing around Diagon Alley trying to find all his school supplies.

Oliver panted as he attempted to catch his breath. All afternoon he had been rushing from shop to shop to find all the books he needed for his first year at Hogwarts.

He held a pile of novels in his arms and momentarily stopped to marvel at the window of a broom shop. His awe was short lived as someone crashed into his back, sending his supplies everywhere.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I just wanted to look at the new broom!” A H/C-haired girl hurried to pick Oliver’s things up. She shoved everything into his arms, apologizing again.

“You… like Quidditch?” Oliver asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Huh? Of course. Who doesn’t? My father took me to see a game once and it was amazing. Some day, I want to join Hogwarts’ team.”

It was as if Oliver had met his dream girl.

“You’re going to Hogwarts too?!” Oliver exclaimed, his eyes sparkling.

“Yeah! I assume you’re also going, so maybe I’ll see you around.” She outstretched her arm to shake Oliver’s hand, but a black cane pushed her back.

“Don’t socialise with the trash, Y/N.” A man with long blond hair uttered, scowling. Oliver instantly recognized the man as Lucius Malfoy.

“I’ll see you around, Quidditch boy!” Y/N shouted as her father led her away.

That day, Oliver was reminded of where he stood in the scheme of things. He was a lowly half-blood while Y/N came from one of the most esteemed families.

Ever since that day, Oliver had been a little frightened to talk to Y/N, just in case she also referred to him as trash.

Y/N never did end up joining Slytherin’s Quidditch team. Her brother did instead. Oliver guessed it has something to do with her refusal to cheat, and Slytherin was infamously known for cheating.

“Say, are you going to Hogsmeade today, Oli? Perhaps to do a little last minute Christmas shopping?” George questioned, his lips curling into a smirk that could only mean one thing. Trouble.

“If you want to play one of your stupid pranks on me, forget it.” He stood up and silently walked away.

“Ah. He’s in a bad mood because of Y/N again. Jeez.” George rolled his eyes as he stabbed his fork into a carrot.

Oliver was going to visit Hogsmeade, but only to look at Quidditch shops and browse through the technique books. A Hufflepuff girl had asked him out, but he politely refused her offer.

Oliver shoved his hands deep into his warm pockets as he trudged through the thick snow. Hogsmeade wasn’t as busy as it usually was, but that was probably because most sane people wanted to avoid the cold.

The Quidditch captain made an immediate beeline for the broom store. He smiled as he gazed at the window display before entering.

“Good morning!” He kindly greeted the owner, who was an old lady hard of hearing. He immediately walked towards a shelve of books, running his finger over the hard covered spines.

The door opened again, the rusty bell attached to it quietly chiming. “Good morning, Gen!” A feminine voice shouted, piercing the calming atmosphere. Oliver peeked through the books, curious as to who the newcomer was. He could see their winter outfit but not their face.

The girl skipped over to the books, standing on the opposite side of Oliver. She locked eyes with him, and he could see her eyes squint as he smiled, meaning it was a genuine one.

The pair occasionally glanced at each other, jumping when they accidentally made eye contact. The girl tucked a strand of H/C hair behind her hair, quietly humming under her breath. She walked around to the other side of the bookshelf, almost crashing into Oliver.

His heart leaped in his chest as he grabbed Y/N and steadied her. “Sorry.” He said, not being able to muster up any more words.

Y/N silently stared at his face before she gasped. “Oh! Quidditch boy!” She exclaimed, grinning. “I knew I recognized those eyes!” When Oliver sent her a confused look, she laughed. “I’m the girl from Diagon Alley! Before first year, remember?”

“I remember… I’m just wondering why you do.”

“I spent most of my first year looking for you! But I never got your name so it was a bit hard. Then when you joined the Quidditch team and played your first match, I recognized you. I wanted to talk to you after but you seemed to have so many fangirls. I got shy!It’s been ages, jeez. How are you?”

Y/N grinned, an action that set butterflies free in Oliver’s stomach. His cheeks flushed red as he nervously smiled back.

“I’ve… been good. How about you? You never joined the Quidditch team.”

“Well, I don’t exactly like Flint and Draco is already on the team. They don’t need two Malfoy’s.” Y/N sheepishly smiled and laughed.

“I saw you play as a chaser during flying class. You were great. You should join the team some time.” That compliment coming from Oliver Wood, Gryffindor’s very own keeper, was a huge deal. “You’d be a wonderful addition. If only you were in Gryffindor.”

Y/N quietly laughed. “Maybe we’d actually be able to spend time together.” Her gaze flickered to the book Oliver was grasping, “Are you going to buy that? I’ve been looking for a copy of it.” She smiled, and Oliver didn’t have the strength to keep the book to himself when she was looking at him like that.

“No.” He uttered, “I was only looking at it. Here.” He handed it to Y/N.

“Are you sure?” She asked, to which Oliver nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you borrow it. See you at school, Oliver.” She grinned again, skipping off to purchase the book.

Oliver stared at the ground, chuckling to himself as his cheeks turned rosy red.

School was finally coming to an end. Thank goodness. Oliver didn’t know how much more studying he could take before his brain gave up.

He returned to his dorm, tired and relieved to finally be returning home today. From his dorm, he heard his friends gasp.

“Ay, mate, there’s something on your bed for you.” One uttered as Oliver ended.

He tilted his head to the side and glanced at his mattress. A badly wrapped present sat on it along with a small card and the book he had let Y/N take.

Oliver grabbed the card, curiously staring at the cursive writing.

Consider this an early Christmas gift and my overdue apology on my father’s behalf (for calling you trash). You’re fun to talk to and I hope to see you around next year.

Merry Christmas, Oliver.

- Y/N

Oliver peeled the wrapping paper, almost choking when he saw the newest edition broom. It was shined and groomed to perfection and Oliver was sure he was going to pass out from excitement.

He slowly grasped the book, opening to the first page that was tabbed by a green sticky note.

On the blank page was the writing,

Merry Christmas, Oliver Wood

And underneath was the signature of Oliver’s favourite Quidditch player.

“She’s freaking amazing.” Oliver muttered under his breath, wondering how Y/N had even managed to pull all this off.

Oliver flipped through the pages, noticing how Y/N had annotated the book on his behalf. He was only falling deeper in love.

“I’m going to find Y/N.” He announced to his friends, who cheered.

“Go get ‘er, tiger!”

Oliver hurried out of the common room, wondering where on earth Y/N would be. The castle was huge, it would take him all day to find her. Luckily, he spotted Draco Malfoy walking down the corridor.

“Malfoy.” Oliver called out.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. “If you’re looking for my sister, she’s at the Black Lake. Don’t tell my parents you like her otherwise my stupid ship will be ruined.” And with that, he walked off.

Oliver ignored his odd words and rushed to the Black Lake. He saw Y/N sitting alone and humming to herself as she picked at the green blades of grass.

“You didn’t have to get me a broom, you know.” Oliver said, startling Y/N. She jumped slightly.

“You scared me! It wasn’t that much anyway… and it was on sale. So you don’t need to worry.”

Oliver spluttered. Not that much money? It was more than him and his friends’ bank accounts! Even if they combined all their money, it still wouldn’t be enough.

“The book by itself would have sufficed.” Oliver uttered as he took a seat next to Y/N.

“Yeah. But I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up.” Y/N grinned as she stood up, dusting the dirt off her skirt, “Merry Christmas, Oli. See you next year.”

Oliver spent his days before Christmas with the Weasley twins and more of his friends. Even Harry Potter was there. But one person was missing, much to his disappointment.

On Christmas Eve, he pondered what Y/N’s words at the Black Lake had meant. “I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up”. Did Y/N… like him back?

Oliver sighed, rushing to turn the lamp on his desk on. He pulled out a thick piece of parchment paper and began to messily scribble down his thoughts and everything he didn’t have the courage to say to Y/N in real life.

Oliver stared at his letter, sighing. He tried not to think too much as he rolled it up and sent his owl to the Malfoy Manor.

Meanwhile, Y/N was sitting by her window, relaxing as the fresh breeze blew through her hair. She heard a quiet chirp and opened her eyes to see an unfamiliar brown owl in front of her. It cooed and tilted its head.

Y/N slowly took the letter that was attached to the owl’s leg and got comfortable before she unravelled it.

Dear Y/N,

I know this letter may be unexpected and strange, especially since it’s Christmas Eve but those words you told me at the Black Lake are still stuck in my head. It feels a little lonely without you around. I’m going to be honest here… and hopefully you won’t laugh at how I pour my heart out.

I like you, Y/N. Not just for your looks or your family. You’re gorgeous, but there’s so much more to you that other guys can’t see for some reason. You’re kind and caring and you may as well be in Hufflepuff. Your ambition is admirable and you really know how to light up a room, even if it’s a room as big as the Great Hall.

You don’t look down on other people because they aren’t pure blood or come from a family like yours. Instead, you help them. There’s so many qualities that make you stand out from the crowd and I’m not expecting a reply any time soon, but I just thought you should know all this.

Santa Claus won’t really make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day. Y/N, I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Please Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas… is you <3.

- Oliver Wood

P.S, thanks for the broom and book. I’m still trying to find a gift to top that.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile as she read Oliver’s letter. Her room door was suddenly slammed open. Y/N couldn’t react fast enough and all she could do was place the letter face down on her bed.

“Father.” She greeted him, surprised that he was even home. He was supposed to be on a business trip. “What… are you doing here?”

“Receiving love letters already, Y/N?” Her father carelessly grabbed the parchment, his gaze scanning over the beautifully crafted words. After a moment, he nodded. “What is his blood status?”

Y/N looked at the ground, thickly gulping. “… Half-blood.” She uttered after a second of hesitation.

Her father silently nodded, his stern face never changing. “I’ll allow it.”

“W-What?” Y/N stumbled over her own words. Ever since she was young, her father had preached about the importance of marrying another pure blood so this was entirely out of character for him.

“That Wood boy…” Her father thought for a moment before clicking his tongue, “He’s staying at the Weasley’s house. The elves have packed your bags already. You leave tomorrow morning.”

Y/N was speechless. Was this her father or a random intruder?

“Good night, Y/N.” And with that, he left. Y/N sat on her bed, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to process what had just happened.

A knock on the door interrupted breakfast for the Weasley family, Oliver, Harry, and Hermione.

Oliver, as charming as ever, stood up. “I’ll get it.” He offered, walking over to the door. He twisted the door knob and yanked it open, coming face to face with Y/N.

She smiled. “I hope I’m not intruding.” She uttered, peeking over Oliver’s shoulder. “I just wanted to quickly say one thing.”

Oliver could feel the prying eyes of Fred and George and he exasperatingly sighed, shutting the door behind him. “Yes?” His heart leaped in his chest as Y/N leaned forward with a grin.

“I like you too, quidditch boy.”

[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.

[c3dricsluv]

Masterlist ︶ིྀᩧ

PJO 🌊

Luke Castellan ☆

Do me a favor

Grover Underwood ☆

Nothing yet...

Harry Potter

Cedric Diggory

Nothing yet...

George Weasley

Nothing yet...

Oliver Wood

Nothing yet...

[sweetpandorabox]

Hoodie - Oliver Wood x Female reader (One Shot)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Synopsis: You and your boyfriend Oliver, has been together for a little over 6 month now, due to your age difference him being the 6th year and you being the 4th year you both decided to take it slow and kept your relationship quiet not letting anyone except your closest friends know about the situation until today's Quidditch match where it all changed.

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Female Reader

Story Setting: This fanfiction is set in your 4th year of Hogwarts during the Chamber of Secrets (you're in the same year group as Fred and George's instead of Harry's)

Warnings⚠️ : None this one is pure fluff.

A/N : Hey sexy it's Angel here, this week I've decided to write some more super short one-shots for all of you, I'll be sure to make one for at least all of the Harry Potter boys and girls because it's super easy, and, and don't require a lot of time, anyway enjoy love you. xx

Word Count : 845

✯¸.•´¨*•✿ Hoodie ✿•*¨`•.¸✯

You watched as the Hufflepuff Casher threw the Quaffle into the Gryffindor's goal with anticipation, as Oliver Wood yet again block the leather ball out the way just in time for Harry Potter to catch the golden and swift little snitch. "Harry Potter has caught the snitch, and Gryffindor has won the match", Lee Jordan announced causing an uproar of excitement from the red and golden colored crowd along with yourself, you smiled excitedly at the well-built and burly Gryffindor keeper flying on his broom, as he indicates all his attention to you smirking playfully following in with a wink, turning your cheeks tomato red before exiting the tall and high Quidditch stands.

You waited outside of the Quidditch changing rooms, keeping yourself hidden behind a bush peeking at the door and counting in all the players that have left back to the Hogwarts castle, rejoicing to celebrate their win with a big lunch at the great hall. After a thorough count of people, you reveal yourself quietly entering the changing rooms and closing the door behind you. You make your way to the boy's side to find Oliver's muscular torso facing you, changing out of his sweaty gear with his pant's waistband settling in low exposing his abdominal v line inflaming your body into a highly abnormal body temperature like it was set on fire and keeping your face bright red like a sun-dried tomato. You swore your heart could jump out within minutes of this view until Oliver finally looked over and noticed your small figure.

He smirks, "You know you should just take a picture, maybe then it'll last longer" he teased you flirtatiously, striding over to you before he kissed your forehead wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his body. "Hey I can look at you when I like, plus what girl on earth doesn't want to look at their much older, athletic, and handsome boyfriend huh? you tell me?" you responded gazing into his pair of milk chocolate eyes, he stares back at your ethereal pair of eyes responding with a smile, pulling you into a sweet kiss and sweeping you off your feet before asking "why aren't you wearing something warmer? it's bloody windy outside" he mentioned rubbing both sides of your arm keeping the goosebumps away, "Oh well I wasn't feeling very cold and I thought it was warm enough not to bring a coat or something a bit warmer...I'll be okay though" you chuckled softly ensuring your protective boyfriend.

He shakes his head with a smile, walking over to his stuff and quickly putting on a long sleeve and black turtle neck top, before rummaging through his duffle bag and taking out his red and gold Gryffindor Quidditch hoodie with a large 'Wood' embroidered on the back of it signifying that it was his and his only, he swings his bag on to his shoulder as he hands you the hoodie, "Here put it on then I don't want you to catch a nasty cold, its better safe than sorry" he command. "Uhm Ollie what about you, won't you get cold?" you ask innocently giving him a doe-eyed look, "No love, don't worry about me I'll be alright, here let me help you" he lifts both of your arms up putting the hoodie on to you, the hoodie fits very loosely amplifying your already small figure and built way more then before.

He chuckled at your sight taking your hand in his as you both walked out of the changing rooms making your way to the Hogwarts castle aiming straight for the great hall for lunch, you and Oliver talked your way into walking with laughter but listening to each other at the same time before stopping abruptly in the halls "Ollie I'm wearing your hoodie I need to take it off before we go in" you stated lifting the hoodie up to take it off before Oliver pulls the hoodie back down looking into your eyes, "Y/N I uh I think I'm ready to show you off to everyone as my girlfriend rather then a younger friend I mentor through school" he stated in his sweet Scottish accent melting your heart into a warm puddle, "Ollie I had no idea that you were ready...I've been ready to show everyone what we are as well" you smile looking down on the floor not meeting his eyes with a red tint smearing on your cheeks.

He masters up the biggest smile he can before lifting you off your feet and kissing you, you kiss him back being the happiest you've ever been before walking hand in hand with him through the great halls turning heads left and right as people comment on the hoodie you're wearing, your age differences and how you're holding each other's hands before kissing once more as everyone around the red and gold table cheered at your relationship and Oliver's goal save which leads Gryffindor into another win engraving one more Oliver related happy memory into your brain.

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

INDEBTED

Summary: When your father's scandal threatens your family's legacy, Rafe makes you an offer you can't refuse.

Paring: Rafe Cameron x KookFem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Choking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.  

Word Count: 4.8k words

Author's Note: 1000 followers! Wow, I never thought I'd reach 1000 followers. A part of me believes that half of these are bots, but regardless, to those who are real and have decided to join me in my little corner of the Tumblr woods, thank you. Your love and support, especially during these trying times, means a lot. I had this one shot sitting in my drafts for a while and thought I'd finish the damn thing and share it as a thank you. But heed those warnings : it's a dark one. Much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Embezzlement.

What a weird word.

It rolls off the tongue with an unfamiliar bitterness. It's the kind of term you'd see in a crossword puzzle, nestled between "clandestine" and "malevolent." You never imagined it would be splashed across news headlines with your family's name and the face of your father in the centre.

For years, your family was among the shining stars of Figure 8, leaders in hospitality, prestige, and wealth. Your home was the epicenter of elegance, the heartbeat of social galas. But now, news vans line the perimeter of your estate, their cameras hungry for a glimpse of the fallen dynasty. While online vultures, under the guise of investigative websites, sift through every chapter of your family's history.

Naturally, it caused a ripple, and as the waves of the scandal crashed onto the shores of Figure 8 with relentless force, family friends who once sought your company now wrestled with their association to yours. The 'friends' who once envied your galas and soirées now whisper behind closed doors.

It was the talk of every gathering. At lunches, tennis courts, even the marina; your family’s name was whispered with a mix of pity and sensationalism. Every disclosed detail, every leaked piece of evidence, threatens to shatter the glass pedestal upon which your family once stood unchallenged.

Yet, amidst the tempest of rumors and glares, your mother remains the eye of the storm. Resolute and graceful, she doesn't waver. The titan of Figure 8's social scene, she's always known how to command a room, and this scandal won't rob her of that gift.

Tonight, at the Midsummer ball, she's an emblem of defiance against the rising tide of whispers. And she does it so effortlessly. She glides through the crowd with that same charismatic charm. She smiles warmly, asking about children and recent vacations, pets, and passion projects, extending olive branches even when met with frosty receptions and curt replies.

You, however, are not as composed. The weight of judgmental gazes is too suffocating, the murmurs too piercing. The confines of the ball, with its glittering chandeliers and faux smiles, become a prison. With each passing moment, the walls seem to close in further. You need air. A moment of solitude. An escape from the suffocating pretense.

Whispering a quick excuse to your mother about needing the powder room, you slip away. The soft hum of the party fades behind you as you venture down a paved stone path, leading to the beach. The cool breeze and rhythmic waves provide solace, a stark contrast to the stifling ambiance of the party.

You had taken off the flower crown your mother had insisted you wear and were about to remove your shoes when you heard it: the soft crunch of footsteps on sand, drawing closer.

Hesitantly, you turned, finding him. The one whose eyes often sought yours in a crowd. Whose lingering gazes you'd always felt but habitually ignored. The same person who continually asked you out, oftentimes rudely and crudely. The one you had rejected, rebuffed, and shut down more times than you could count.

Rafe Cameron.

"Came to rub salt in my wounds?" you asked, unable to mask the bitterness in your voice.

"Now why would I want to do such a thing?" Rafe murmured. He pulled a joint from his pocket, placing it between his lips. The soft flicker of the lighter momentarily illuminated his face, revealing a brief smirk before the darkness cloaked him again. "I thought you might appreciate some company instead."

The word 'appreciate' ricocheted around your mind, sounding almost absurd in this situation. Company? From Rafe Cameron? The notorious Kook King of Figure 8, a classic case book narcissist who, you were certain, had probably raised a toast to the scandal engulfing your family. At this moment, you'd rather eat glass than accept his sympathy. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the sea, barely acknowledging his presence.

“I'm not in the mood to talk, Rafe," your voice steady but seething with restrained frustration. Your eyes remained locked onto the undulating waves before you. The smell of sea-salt filled your nostrils, and for a fleeting moment, you felt at peace. It lasts all of two seconds before Rafe opens his mouth again.

"Fine, I'll talk. You listen," he asserts, as he settles against a rock. He leisurely inhales from his joint before blowing out a plume of smoke into the night air. You can feel his contemplative gaze on you; it becomes evident in the softened timbre of his voice when he speaks again. “You know, it's downright shitty what they're doing to your dad. To your family. To you... I can't stand by and watch."

A scornful laugh escapes you as you finally meet his gaze. "Well, life's not exactly handing out fairness certificates, is it?"

He shook his head, "No, it isn’t. But, it still doesn't make it right. It doesn’t make it fair when your dad claims he’s innocent—”

“My dad is innocent,” you assert fiercely, standing tall, arms crossed defiantly over your chest.

“Oh, I believe he is. But the world? Not so much. Your dad’s always been good to my family. My old man took it hard when he heard. I mean, of all the people on Figure 8 to be arrested for embezzlement, your dad was the last person anyone would suspect—”

“What's your point, Rafe?” You snapped, clearly about to lose the last shred of patience you had.

"I’ve been thinking about it alot, and maybe my family can help.”

Skepticism etched itself clear as day on your face. It seemed ironic that Rafe felt his family could help when Rose and Ward shunned your parents the moment the news broke.

“And how do you propose to do that?" you asked, your voice tinged with mistrust.

Rafe shrugged, a casual gesture that contradicted the gravity of the situation. "My dad, he's got connections—”

“So do mine,” you shot back.

“But did yours play golf with Senator Whitfield every Saturday? Rain or shine? Nah, didn’t think so.”

You felt a moment of silence envelop you both, the distant murmurs of the sea a constant reminder of the world moving around you.

"Alright, I'll bite," you said with a lick of your lips. "What do you want in return? You're clearly not doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

Rafe flicked his joint onto the sand, extinguishing it with a deliberate twist of his shoe. As he stepped closer, moonlight illuminated his eyes, giving them an almost predatory glow.

“You've got me," he admitted, his smirk devoid of warmth. “I do want something in return. Something that has been on my mind. Something I’ve wanted for a long time now. You."

A shiver raced down your spine, a cocktail of revulsion and trepidation. Retreating a step, your voice quivered but remained defiant.

"So, you're after a date?" You clarified, eyes narrowing. The same date he'd pestered you for, relentlessly, over the past year. The same date you'd denied him repeatedly, because despite being handsome, Rafe Cameron's moral compass seemed nonexistent.

Rafe scratched his ear as he moved slowly toward you, his expression pained as though what he was about to reveal would hurt him far more than it would hurt you.

"Yeah, see, a date won't begin to cover what I'm risking for your old man, given his rap sheet is longer than my arm. No, what I want is far more... rewarding," his voice sank to a sultry whisper as he towered over you.

"And what would that be?" you asked, tension crackling in the air between you.

"I want to be able to fuck you whenever and however I want—for a month, maybe two, perhaps even a year..." he shrugged slowly, "The specifics are negotiable, but doesn't that sound fair? A little pussy in exchange for your dad's freedom?”

The slap was instinctual. Swift. The sting on your palm matched only by the shock on Rafe's face. For a split second, everything was still.

Rafe's eyes turned to steel, his demeanor shifting chillingly in a heartbeat. He closed in, his voice a venomous whisper slicing through the salty sea air. "You must have a death wish" he hissed, an unmistakable dangerous edge to his words. His hand gingerly brushed his reddening jaw, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. "Your dad's freedom? It's dangling by the thinnest thread... The right words from a senator could decide whether he walks free or becomes someone's bitch behind bars."

He paused, his gaze falling to the flower crown in your hand. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out to touch it, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate petals, an almost gentle gesture that was jarringly at odds with the tension of the moment.

"If you want to help your dad, having a friend like me might be your best bet." he murmured. "Think it over, yeah?" His gaze lifted back to yours, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you whispered, disgust fueled your retreat as you stormed away, his chilling laugh echoing ominously in the night air.

"You will, princess. When you come to your senses, you will."

Rafe's lingering words pressed on you, growing heavier with each breath. The looming possibility of your father's life behind bars became ever more ominous as Rafe presented a potential solution—a solution with an inconceivable price tag.

How could he even insinuate such a thing? The mere suggestion repulsed you, igniting a fury at Rafe's audacity. Yet the unease gnawing at your belly made you question: to what lengths would you go to save your dad? With your family facing disgrace and teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, Rafe's proposal offered a faint glimmer of hope, even if it took the ugliest of forms.

In the solitude of your bedroom, the pristine walls seemed to close in, just like the midsummer ball. Picking up your phone, you stared at the screen, the bright white light harsh against the dim setting. The contacts list stared back, an overwhelming list of names, none of whom had reached out during your family's time of need.

You scrolled, hesitating briefly before landing on Rafe's name. A whirlwind of emotions — from anger to desperation — consumed you as you pressed on it. Trembling fingers typed, deleted, and retyped a message multiple times, finally settling on the simplest of words.

"We need to talk."

Almost immediately, three dots danced on the screen.

"Tomorrow 7pm, Tannyhill.”

Was Rafe’s curt response.

You could barely sleep that night, as your mind raced, forming what you hoped was a semblance of a plan. You needed to negotiate on your terms, to retain some shred of dignity. It wasn't a detailed strategy, but it was enough to at least get through Rafe's offer with your sanity.

The next day as you approached Tannyhill, you whispered silent affirmations to yourself, reaffirming your resolve, your worth, and the necessity of your mission.

And then, there he was. Rafe Cameron, leaning casually against the frame of the ornate door, a picture of wealth and arrogance, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in the impending darkness of the evening.

Rafe opened the door for you, his face betraying a flicker of something you couldn't quite read, but there was no turning back now. You stepped in, ready to negotiate with the devil himself if it meant saving your family.

"Where's everyone?" you asked, there was no point in exchanging pleasantries. Nothing about the situation was remotely pleasant.

"Movies. You know, I hadn't expected a text from you so soon." his voice dripped with condescension, "I was betting on at least a week or two."

"Yeah well, it is my dad's life on the line," your footsteps echoed with purpose as you followed him into the living room, eyes steeling for the battle ahead. "The sooner we finalize our agreement, the quicker you can pull whatever strings you have, right?"

Rafe spun around, his gaze locking onto yours. The sly curve of his lips unsettling. "Sure, I’ll make a few calls,” he stated, voice dark and sardonic, "but it'll depend on the terms we agree to."

"Alright…” you braced yourself, your arms folded trying to regain control. "Let's start with how lon--"

“A year,” Rafe cut in, not breaking eye contact.

"That's out of the question. A month," you shot back.

His chuckle resonated with an underlying seriousness, his eyes narrowing in focus "Sure, we can say a month. You willing to fuck me at least twice a day? No? Then eleven."

You straightened your back, your resolve hardening. "Two months, tops."

His eyes gleamed as he considered your counteroffer. "How about this, we keep our little arrangement going until your dad's free. It could be a month, maybe two…” he shrugged nonchalantly “It might even be a year. It depends on how soon he’s out. What do you think?"

You hesitated, visibly weighing the implications of such an open-ended commitment. Your dad’s charges were serious. The chances of those charges disappearing and him being released in a month seemed like a miracle. "What if it drags on for years?" you whispered.

Rafe’s grin grew more pronounced, relishing your distress. "Well, princess, that's for you to decide. You can always walk away whenever you think it’s unbearable. Does that seem fair?"

"Okay, fine. Now about condoms--”

“Not using them--”

“Oh, we’re using them. I’m not interested in having your kid, Rafe, and I’m certainly not interested in catching anything from you.”

“While I should be fucking insulted” he said dryly “I always glove up and get tested regularly too.”

“Okay, so why are you suddenly against using condoms with me, then?”

“Because I promised myself…” he said slowly, his voice lowering as he made his way towards you, “If I ever got the chance to fuck you, I'd do it raw.”

Your jaw clicked, your hands itching to slap him again. “Weren’t you fooling around with Letizia a couple of weeks back?”

“Yeah, so? I was gloved up.”

“I don't care. You've slept with half the girls on figure 8. I want you fully tested before we even think about doing anything. Condoms every time, no excuses.”

“Alright. I’ll get tested. Condoms while fucking, no condoms for blowjobs.”

"Yeah, about that, I'm not doing oral.'” you said folding your arms in resignation.

Rafe's eyes bore into yours, annoyance coloring his features.

"No. No. You don’t get to dictate how I fuck you." he snapped, his voice taking on edge of authority. "Look, i’m willing to let you negotiate a few terms, give you some semblance of control but it’s got to be worth my while, and for it to be worth it, I get to fuck you how I want, when I want.”

You swallowed, feeling your resolve waver.

"Now, here's what I want to make this deal work: when I call, you answer. No matter the place, no matter the time. You show up. Clear?" Rafe said.

You paused before giving a hesitant nod, the magnitude of your agreement dawning on you.

"And if I ask you to wear something specific, you will. No questions. We have a deal?"

Your throat tightened as his demands began to overwhelm you, but you managed a brief nod in response.

"Remember, fail to meet my terms, and our deal ends. Understood?"

Another nod.

"Anything else?"

“When will you make the call?” you asked quickly.

“After our first session,” he proposed, his smile revealing a hint of anticipation. “After that I’ll do whatever I can to make sure your dad’s free”

" I want proof. I want proof that you’d stick to your part of the deal.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”

“Good." you said as you took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Get tested and send me the results," you responded, you're tone neutral, treating it as a standard business transaction. "I'll do the same. We can then choose a time and date."

Rafe nodded in agreement, his gaze intense and piercing.

You extended your hand towards him.

"What's that for?" he chuckled lowly.

"A handshake. To seal the deal."

Rafe reached out, his arms enveloping you in a firm yet tender grasp, pulling you against him. It took everything within you to not push him away.

"How about we seal this deal with a kiss, hmm?" he murmured, "Especially since we'll be doing a lot more than kissing very soon."

Rafe leaned in, letting his lips graze yours. But you stiffened, instinctively tilting your head so that his lips met your cheek instead. A soft chuckle escaped him as he retreated just a fraction.

“Ah ah” he chided. With his fingers gently but firmly cradling your jaw, he directed your face back to his, an unsettling tension growing palpable between you.

"Play. Nice.” he whispered, his voice considerably smug. "Kiss me. Like you mean it." It wasn't a mere request; it was a command that left you feeling completely cornered.

A battle of wills ensued; neither of you making the first move, both of you waiting for the other to blink first. Rafe's eyes never left your own as he leaned in once again, his determination clear.

His tongue gently pushed past your parted lips, and you allowed it, setting off a delicate yet conflicting dance between your tongues and lips.

Groaning into your mouth, his eyes shut as the kiss deepened, carrying an undeniable intensity. He sucked on your bottom lip, nipping at your tender flesh until his tongue lashed hungrily against yours sending a peculiar mix of tingles and dread coursing through you.

Finally, you pulled away from the kiss, catching your breath while your chest heaved. Rafe remained close, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breathing matching your intensity.

"I'll get tested first thing tomorrow," he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and desire. "Make sure you do, too."

"All clear."

That was the message Rafe sent you two days after your heated conversation, accompanied by a screengrab of his test results. Without hesitation, you replied, sending him your own results in return.

As your fingers tapped across the screen, a surge of disgust washed over you. The very idea of being intimate with Rafe was anything but appealing; it fact, it made you feel sick.

You'd never choose Rafe of your own volition. Sure he was handsome but his excessive drinking and drug habits were repellant, and his disdain and bullying nature towards the Pogues was disturbing. None of his qualities were remotely attractive, let alone fuckable.

But then, the stern, resilient part of you asserted itself, urging you to focus on the goal at hand.

This was not about you or Rafe; it was about orchestrating your father's release from prison, a critical mission where failure wasn't an option. With this clear objective ingrained in your mind, you steeled your resolve, preparing yourself for what lay ahead.

When he proposed meeting up that same night, you didn't find it strange given Rafe's impulsive nature. However, the location he suggested did catch you off guard.

It wasn't Tannyhill, the somewhat familiar and comfortable place you had anticipated, but instead, an unfamiliar address. The randomness of the location set off tiny alarms in the back of your mind, making you wary but you took a deep breath, quickly typing out your response-

"I'll be there."

It wasn't just any random address, as you initially thought.

At the front of a gated tree-lined drive stood a prominent sign declaring, “Cameron Developments.” The freshly poured concrete and stacks of lumber clearly indicated that it was a home under renovation.

As you made your way along the winding path, unease gripped you, but the sight of Rafe’s truck haphazardly parked near the entrance reassured you that you had indeed reached the right place.

The estate was draped in an unsettling darkness, punctuated only by the soft chirping of crickets, the distant hoot of an owl, and the sporadic glow of work lights from inside, hinting at the ongoing renovations.

Exiting your car, you took a moment to absorb the scene before approaching the house. With each step towards the porch, your heart rate quickened. But before you could even announce your presence, the heavy door groaned open, revealing the looming presence of Rafe.

His expression, obscured by the shadows and dim work lights from within, gave away nothing. Without a word, he stepped aside, allowing you to enter, then closed the door and locked it.

A knot formed in your throat, a cocktail of dread and adrenaline. Pushing the mounting fear aside, you gathered your voice, attempting to sound braver than you felt. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said.

A wicked grin tugged at the corner of Rafe's lips. You felt an icy dread settle in your chest. "Oh, we will," he murmured, "But first, I want to play a game... to make things... interesting." The atmosphere grew heavy, oppressive.

"One minute" he said, as he cracked his neck from side to side, his eyes boring into you. "You get a one-minute head start and after that, after that--" he sighed happily "I'm coming for you. Run."

Panic gripped you. "Run? What? What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean run?" you stammered, your voice edged with rising panic.

But his eyes were cold, devoid of humor or empathy. He leaned closer, his voice a menacing hiss that left no room for interpretation. "Run."

A rush of adrenaline hit you, and without another word, you sprinted past him as if your very life depended on it.

You had no clear destination in mind, only the primal instinct to run and hide. Every fiber of your being was attuned to survival. Heart pounding in your chest, you sprinted up the grand staircase, taking the steps three at a time, feeling the weight of your own desperation in every leap.

At the top, a maze of doors and hallways stretched out before you. You lunged for the nearest one, finding yourself in a dimly lit bedroom freshly painted in white. Shadows danced on the walls from the solitary work light, and your gaze immediately snapped to a closet on your right.

Without hesitation, you slipped inside, gently closing the door behind you. The smell of paint and cedar filled your nostrils. Placing a trembling hand over your mouth, you tried to muffle the sound of your heavy, ragged breathing.

Gently, so as not to make a sound, you nudged the slatted shutter doors of the closet closed, leaving only thin slivers of the room visible – distorted, but enough to keep watch.

The ominous sound of footsteps reached your ears; they were methodical, unhurried. Rafe was searching, savoring the hunt. You watched in horror as his elongated shadow, cast by the work light, drifted across the closet. A cold sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to fight back the urge to gasp as the shadow paused momentarily by the closet doors.

After what felt like an eternity, the shadow moved away, and you heard his footsteps retreating. Letting out a silent sigh of relief, you gave yourself a moment to gather your bearings. But you knew all too well you couldn't remain hidden for long; he would inevitably retrace his steps and find you.

Gathering your courage, you carefully eased the closet doors open and quickly scanned the room for an escape route. Your heart pounded violently in your chest as you made your move. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you tiptoed across the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards that might betray your presence. But the moment you stepped out of the bedroom, you collided with a solid mass.

Rafe's eyes pierced through to your soul, pure hunger reflected in them as he stared down at you. His hand clamped around your throat, pulling you close as the smell of your fear and his cologne filled your nostrils in a nauseating mix. His lips crushed against yours, ravaging your mouth with an intensity that nearly made you faint.

As your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, you frantically writhed in his grip. Your fists relentlessly pounded against his arm, trying to get him to relinquish his hold on you, but it was no use. In one swift motion, Rafe backed you into the bedroom and forcefully dragged you to the floor, your fingers wildly clawing at his arm as you searched for any type of leverage you could find.

Rafe ravished your neck with unbridled hunger, his other hand violently tugged at your skirt and panties, scraping the skin of your thighs until finding your moist center—the slippery wetness signifying your surrender to pleasure. Rafe groaned as his fingertips slid through your slick folds and into you causing you to gasp at the white-hot jolts of pleasure.

"For someone who's only doing this to save their dad, you're soaked..." Rafe laughed breathlessly, trailing a line of wet kisses up your throat. "All that sanctimonious bullshit about what you will and won't do and look at you, fucking dripping for my cock—”

"Fuck you!" you screeched, a potent mixture of embarrassment and venomous rage coursing through you has you writhing beneath him, your determination to push him off almost frantic.

"That's it—fight back," he jeered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Fight back. It'll make this all the more satisfying."

You kicked and screamed, only for Rafe to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands connected your wrists together over your head. In a single move, he flipped you onto your stomach and straddled you from behind, his erection pressing against your ass.

One of Rafe's hands tears off your panties, your screams in protest seize immediately as Rafe stuffed the flimsy cotton into your mouth.

"There" he taunted with a sinister chuckle, pressing you down further as you desperately attempted to wriggle free. You strained to let out a scream, your voice stifled by the makeshift gag.

That same hand worked feverishly to free himself from his pants. You could feel the throbbing heat of his erection at the cleft of your ass. Could hear him tearing open the condom packet with his teeth, the necessary prelude to satiating his ever-growing hunger.

Not too long after he was grinding the head of his cock against your wetness while you fought to express your protests through the gag.

"No, no, this is what we've agreed to. What you agreed to..." Rafe's breath hitched as his cock slid over your weeping slit. With one hard, raw thrust, barely allowing you time to adjust to his girth, he plunged himself deep inside you.

He wasted no time, immediately beginning his relentless thrusts, utterly indifferent to your muffled struggles behind the gag. Your body writhed beneath his weight, your movements punctuated by desperate grunts, the hardwood floor beneath you offering no mercy.

After a brief moment, Rafe released your wrists and drew you closer, his grip on your hips unwavering as he continued to drive into you with unrelenting force. Your head spun as you gradually surrendered to the powerful cadence of his movements. His hands clung to you possessively, guiding both of you in a desperate, synchronized dance. Every nerve in your body ignited, primal heat surging from deep within.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your body succumbed to his unyielding force. Despite the freedom of your hands, you found yourself paralyzed, incapable of resisting or offering any form of resistance. Instead, you relinquished control, allowing Rafe to claim you entirely.

"I'm gonna fucking cum. I'm gonna cum. Cum with me," he growled through gritted teeth, his tempo increasing to a punishing pace.

You weakly shook your head, 'no,' your determination unwavering as you fought to maintain control over your desires. The mere thought of your pleasure becoming entangled with his, sullied and exploited for his depraved fantasies, was something you could not bear.

"Oh, you'll cum-" he sneered.

In a sudden, ominous gesture, he swiftly removed his leather belt from its loop around his pants and coiled it around your neck, pulling and winding it tightly around his fist.

"If you want to breathe, you'll cum," he snarled, pounding you with relentless force. The room was filled only with the sound of your choked gasps for air, Rafe's ragged breaths, the creak of the leather as he tightened his grip, and the rhythmic punishing slap of his hips against your flesh. You fought with every ounce of your being not to succumb to your impending orgasm, tears streaming uncontrollably from your eyes as you waged a futile battle.

The room reverberated with your agonised screams as your orgasm consumed you. Your muscles tensed and quivered beneath you, each wave of pleasure crashed over you like a violent tsunami drowning you. Your fingers clawed at the belt constricting your throat, the leather biting into your skin and to your abject horror, you were gushing around his cock as you climaxed.

Rafe fucked you harder, burying his face in the back of your neck. With a triumphant roar, Rafe's orgasm struck, and he shuddered against you, muffling his moans of pleasure into your skin as he stuffed his cock deep.

Sated and content, he collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and laboured, the condom filled with his cum. After a moment, he withdrew and shifted to lie beside you.

Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you managed to free yourself from the tight confines of the belt and the stifling gag that had cruelly silenced you. Every fiber of your being, every muscle in your body, screamed with raw pain as you gulped in fresh air, each breath feeling like a hard-won victory. Tears of relief and anguish streamed down your face, and with a shaky hand, you hastily brushed them away.

The room seemed to sway, a disorienting blend of fear, relief, and vertigo threatening to drag you into terrifying darkness.

Yet, slicing through the fog of your distress was the haunting sound of Rafe's laughter. His voice was breathless, yet unmistakably gleeful. His fingers, dampened with sweat, raked through his messy hair, highlighting his heightened state of manic exhilaration.

"Next time," he grinned, a chilling promise lacing his words, "Next time, we'll use rope."

--------------

Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like/reblog/drop a comment would love to know what you think. Until next time ❤️

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Kinktober Day 1 || Morning Sex

PAIRING || Baker!Boyfriend!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || 2.2K

SUMMARY || Tony had a rather spicy dream about you and can’t wait to have you exactly the way he dreamt of. It’s a good thing you’re just as needy for him as he is for you because he’s not letting you go, especially when you two have an entire day ahead of yourselves where you can do nothing but bring pleasure to one another.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Baker!Tony Stark. No Powers AU. Baker AU. Established relationship. Explicit sexual content. Crying after sex.

SMUT || Porn with plot. Tony has a short refractory period. Morning wood. Morning sex. Rough sex. Daddy kink. Breeding kink. Belly bulge. Dirty talk. Degradation. Praise. Light teasing. Begging. Manhandling. Backscratching. Oral (F receiving). Overstimulation. Squirting. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Cockwarming. Aftercare.

A/N || This one-shot is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1. As soon as I started writing this, I started with a rather... tame idea, but I'm also happy it evolved into the smutty, horny mess you're about to read. Please have fun with this story; I know I did when writing it! 🤍

All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Baker!Tony Stark || Kinktober 2024

It promises to be a slow, easygoing morning as the sun brightens your boyfriend’s bedroom. You’re wearing nothing more than flimsy panties, and Tony is clad in just his boxer briefs as you’re curled against his side. Since you two moved in together, you cannot get enough of each other, and this morning won’t be any different.

Tony is the first to wake up this time. He kisses your head softly before attempting to wiggle out of your grasp to give little Oliver - the cat - his breakfast.

“Hmm, five more minutes,” you groan as you pull yourself tighter against his warm, muscled body, making him chuckle at your antics.

“How about this - I’ll go feed our little Devil, and when I come back, I make it all up to you by making love to my girl? Been dreaming of your sweet, sweet nectar, and I would love nothing more than a little taste before fucking you completely senseless,” he says, and you let out a soft whimper at his proposition.

“M’kay, but I’m not letting you go for a while after you return. We have the day off, and I wasn’t planning on leaving the bed today,” you tell him with a pout as you look up at him. He smiles before leaning in and kissing it away, and you smile shyly when he looks into your eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers before getting up, and you fall back onto your pillow with a soft grunt. Your gaze is focused on Tony’s butt as he walks around the bed, and you can see he’s still hard from the dream he had about you. You lick your lips as Tony walks through the door, his perfect, round butt highlighted beautifully in his tight boxer briefs.

“I can feel you staring, Peach!” Tony calls out as he turns the corner, but he doesn’t mind you looking at him like that - he has told you before that he enjoys every second of attention you’re giving him.

Oliver patiently sits on his cat tower, waiting for Tony to come into the living room and feed him his breakfast. With a soft meow, he jumps into Tony’s arms, ready to be carried to the kitchen like the prince he is.

“Good morning, Buddy. How did you sleep?” Tony asks as he scratches his cat between his ears. Oliver’s eyes close as he feels content in his owner’s arms.

“Are you enjoying Peach living with us now, huh? I know I am,” Tony continues as he fills the little food bowl. Oliver stares at Tony’s every move, ensuring he gets all his food.

“I’ve been thinking of proposing to her already, but I don’t know if it’s too soon. It probably is, though, right? God, I’m head over heels in love with her. She’s the best thing to have happened to me together with you,” Tony whispers as he nuzzles his face into Oliver’s soft fur.

With a soft meow, he lets Tony know he wants him to let go, and he does before placing his bowl on the floor, letting him eat in peace as he quickly turns around to join you in the bed again; he’s been dreaming about you, and he can’t wait to bury his face between your thighs again.

“Guess who-” is all he can bring out as he walks in the door. You’re lying on your stomach without the comforter covering you, so your butt is perfectly on display for Tony to see. You wiggle it a few times to tease your boyfriend, and he’s already achingly hard in his underwear.

“Don’t tease me like that, Peach,” he grunts as he walks over to the bed in long, quick steps - the door falling shut behind him. Before you know it, your thong is ripped from your body, and Tony has pulled you on your hands and knees with a deep groan. You can feel yourself getting wetter with every passing second, and he doesn’t waste a single moment as he buries his tongue in your pussy.

“F-fuck! Feels so good, Daddy,” you moan out as you clench your fists in the sheets, your hips rutting against his face as he licks and slurps every last drop of your arousal, his hands clenching onto your thighs to ensure you’re not going anywhere.

“Such a sweet pussy for me, Peach, so fucking delicious,” he grunts as he brings you to your high that’s quickly approaching. As he builds up yours, he can feel his orgasm building, too, without even touching himself. The pleasure he brings you is enough for him to cum in his underwear, groaning against your pussy as he does.

“Fuck, just came for you, Peach! Came in my underwear like a fucking teenager because your pussy is too fucking good to me,” he pants, his tongue pleasuring your clit as you’re dangerously close to the edge, too.

“Daddy, please! ‘M close!” you exclaim, and with a few well-aimed licks over your clit you fall apart on his tongue, and he licks up every last drop of your arousal. Your legs are trembling immensely as he works you through it, and your arms have given out from the intensity of your orgasm. Shocks are going through your body as Tony nurses on your sensitive clit, but you never want him to stop - not when he makes you feel this good.

However, when the overstimulation becomes too much, you wiggle yourself out of his hold before collapsing onto the bed. You’re panting loudly, and your heart rate is through the roof, and you haven’t even felt Tony’s cock inside you yet. He’s planning on ruining you, and this was only the start.

“My God, Peach, your pussy is still the sweetest I’ve ever tasted,” he says as he crawls over your body, his hand gripping your jaw carefully before crashing his lips onto yours, allowing you to taste every last bit of your arousal that coats his tongue.

You man into his mouth, turning Tony on even further, and he’s already teetering on the edge of going feral. He doesn’t need much to snap, and you’re willing to play with that edge until he tips over, and he uses you exactly like he wants, as if you’re nothing more than a fleshlight for him to pump his seed into.

You’ve only seen him this far gone once before and want to see if you can finally get him over the edge.

“Fuck me, Daddy, please. Fuck me like I’m nothing more than a hole for you to use; you know I’m not made of glass. Fuck me in whichever position you want, and pump me full with every drop of your cum. I want you to ruin me, Daddy,” you beg him, and you can see his demeanor change. His pupils take entirely over the brown of his irises, and based on a tick of his jaw, you can see he needs one more little push.

“I need you to fuck a baby into me, Daddy,” you tell him as you show him your sweetest doe eyes, and that’s when he loses every last bit of his self-control.

“Yeah? Does my slut need to have her hole stuffed, huh? You need Daddy to fuck you so hard you can’t walk for days?” he asks, and all you can do is whimper in response as he takes off his underwear, his cock still sticky from his earlier orgasm, but he doesn’t care.

Tony’s cock is achingly hard as it’s standing upright between his thighs, the tip looking angry as you see a bead of pre-cum dribbling down and onto his shaft. The veins on his shaft are pulsing, and your mouth is watering at the thought of every inch of it fucking you deep and hard.

Without saying a single word, Tony pulls you towards him by your ankle, and he folds you in half to expose your puffy, dripping pussy to him. He grabs hold of his cock, and he lets it glide through your folds a few times as you moan loudly.

“D-Daddy!” you exclaim as he lines up with your entrance, shoving it in without a single warning. The pace he sets is not even human anymore, and his groans, combined with your broken moans, add to your shared arousal. The way his hips slap against yours has your back arching, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

“Take it like the good slut you are; you’re nothing more than a fucking hole to shove my cock into, are you? Yeah, you enjoy being treated like a cumslut for Daddy, telling me to fuck a baby into you. God, I will stuff you so fucking full with my cum you won’t be able to hold it all in, and when it’s dripping out, I’ll fuck it right back in with my fingers until you’re fucking pregnant with my baby.”

He puts his hand on your belly and pushes down slightly where he can see his cock, adding to the pleasure he’s making you feel right now. Your jaw is slack, and your brows are knitted together as the pleasure builds rapidly. The feeling is familiar yet strange at the same time, and before you know it, you cum with a scream of his name as your nails run down his back, leaving deep red marks in the process.

“DADDY!” you exclaim, and your pussy clenches hard as you squirt over the sheets and your boyfriend, effectively pushing his cock out in the process. He quickly rubs your clit to prolong your orgasm, turning it into the most prominent and longest orgasm of your life. You can’t help but moan through the entirety of it, but before you can catch your breath, Tony impales you again on his cock, setting the same brutal pace as his high is quickly approaching, too.

“That’s it, you’re taking my cock like you’re made for it! Such a tight pussy for me to fill with my cum. ‘M gonna make you my little creampuff; that’s what you want, right? Me fucking my cream into your tight, sweet pussy until you’re a creampuff that’s leaking with my seed?” Tony asks as he changes his pace to quick, short, deep thrusts.

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you croak out, and before you know it, Tony’s thrusts falter and then stop as he cums deep in your pussy, holding you close as his face is nuzzled in your neck. Both of you are panting as you’re coming down from whatever just happened, and Tony rolled onto his back while still being buried inside you.

“Such a good girl for me; I love you so much, my sweet Peach,” he whispers, and you can feel a tear rolling down your cheek as you lay on his chest. Not because you regret what happened but because the emotions have become too much for a moment. You’ve been through a rollercoaster of them, and now they all come out simultaneously.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here with you, Babygirl; nothing can happen to you,” he soothes you, his large hands running comfortingly over your back as you let go of your emotions for now. Long, hard sobs wreck through your boy, but he keeps whispering sweet nothings as he soothes you.

After a short while, you stopped crying, and your breathing evened out, which let Tony know you fell asleep on top of him. After about 30 minutes, he gently wakes you, letting you know it’s time for a bath and some lunch.

“You can get settled in the bath, and I’ll whip up something easy for lunch. After, I promise we can stay in bed the entire day and cuddle with little Oliver - how does that sound?” Tony asks, making you nod in response. Unable to say anything, you happily allow Tony to care for you.

As soon as you sit in the warm water of the bath that Tony has prepared for you, a content groan leaves your lips as your body's sore muscles relax in the water's warmth. You’ll struggle with walking for a few days, but it’s all worth it. You’re not sure how much time has passed since Tony left to get you a few sandwiches, a bowl of your favorite fruits, and two bottles of water, but you’re more than happy when he slides into the warm water with you.

“C’mere hot mama,” he says once he’s comfortable, and you happily sit down in his lap, allowing him to feed you sandwiches and fruit between sips of water. There’s a comfortable silence between your two; it’s not awkward but more comforting as you enjoy each other and the moment. When you’re done with your bath and dried off, Tony puts his oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants on you before picking you up and dropping you onto the bed, making you giggle.

“I think it’s time to let our little Devil in here as well; I believe he’s getting a little impatient,” Tony chuckles after putting on a pair of sweats, and as soon as the bedroom door swings open, Oliver runs in and jumps on the bed, ready for cuddles with you and Tony.

“Hi, Baby! I missed you!” you tell him, and he curls up in his lap as he purrs loudly. You’re feeling very content as you allow Tony to care for you the best way he knows - by giving you every ounce of love and undivided attention he possibly can.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE OLIVER WOOD X SHY HUFFLEPUFF READER 

You were Neville's older sister and you were sorted into the Hufflepuff house while your brother Neville was sorted into the Gryffindor house. The both of you were quite similar in terms of personality, both of you were shy yet friendly with those around you. Everyone loved to be around you because of your kind nature and friendly personality, you were a bit of an introvert compared to your brother and your friends liked to tease you about it but everyone around you adored your shy nature, they found it rather bashful. You were academically driven and had the will and focus to get good grades, you didn't spend hours and hours to study like Hermione but you were naturally good at academics since you absorbed the concepts in one go and preferred a practical based learning compared to rote memorization. You even managed to get into Snape's good graces the other day when you were working on how to make the Polyjuice potion, you followed the instructions to the T and brewed the perfect mixture that even Snape couldn't find fault with your skill and accuracy and just gave you a slight nod of his head in a begrudging manner to show his appreciation for you, making you one of the rare cases where he showed his admiration to someone who wasn't from his own house 

Of course, you and your brother were secretly terrified and nervous of him deep down but you were able to pull through, however Neville needed a bit more help in Potions and was always on the receiving end of his taunts and sarcastic remarks which made you feel bad for Neville whenever you'd see his flustered face with the expression on his face looking like he was on the verge of tears. You'd spend most of your time helping out Neville with Potions and of course, defending him against Malfoy and his goons. You didn't really like confronting people but if it was for the sake of your brother, you had to suck it up and deal with it. By no means you had nerves of steel nor were you fearless, you'd be nervous when you tell them to stay away from your brother while they laughed at you and made jokes at you and your brother's expense, making you regret your decision of trying to be a hero in the first place. You felt your eyes water slightly with the comments the other Slytherins from your own year made and you hated how pathetic you felt, you were supposed to be defending your brother and be the older sibling he could look up to for protection and guidance, instead the guilt ate through your mind as you silently cursed yourself for being pathetic and weak and failing Neville as an older sister till someone decided that enough was enough and that's when you met...Oliver...

"Oi...leave her alone, yeah?" spoke a deep voice from nearby as you turned around and spotted a guy who looked like he was in your year, he seemed somewhat familiar to you and yet you couldn't put a finger to it, you surveyed the brown haired guy dressed in the Gryffindor Quidditch robes and clutched his broom as his veins protruded slightly and his jaw was clenched, looking agitated as his eyes narrowed at the bunch of Slytherins in front of him. "What's it to you Wood? Get lost'' hollered Marcus as he leered at him and Oliver just glared at him as he looked around, trying to see if there were any professors or other students around the area before pulling out his wand and hexing them. "Um...thanks..'' you mumbled and fidgeted with the hem of your robes and you shot him a polite smile. "No problem, I've been wanting to do that for a while now anyway...'' chuckled Oliver slightly as he held out his hand and introduced himself to you. "The name's Oliver, Oliver Wood...the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team'' he said proudly as he shook your hand

The second he came in contact with your hand and held your hand, he was surprised by how soft and gentle it was, a stark contrast compared to his rough and calloused ones as he found it slightly endearing and part of him wanted to keep holding your hand for a bit longer. "I'm Y/N Longbottom..'' you replied and his eyes widened slightly. "Longbottom...could you be related to Neville in some way?" he asked you as you nodded. "I'm his sister'' you answered as he looked at you like you were a fascinating rock that dropped from the moon. "Well, that's surprising, never knew Neville had a sister...'' he mused and he surveyed your features. Something about him just fueled that desire in him to protect you, was it the way your hair strands fell in that beautiful face of yours or was it the way he felt like he was already getting the feeling of getting lost in your eyes or was it the way how flustered and bashful you were in front of him which made your mannerisms endearing to watch

Ever since that incident, he just can't seem to let go of you. He follows you around like a puppy, a guard dog to be exact, warding off anyone who dared to mess with you and as he spent more time with you, he found himself growing more attached to you and your shy nature which he couldn't get enough of. He loved the way your cheeks would get tinged with a red blush at times and hide your face in a book and mumble something incoherent whenever you felt flustered about something which made him want to see more of those reactions from you. Of course, his friends eventually got wind of his feelings for you and started teasing him about it, Fred and George took immense pleasure in mercilessly poking fun at him for which he'd immediately tell them to shut it with a slight blush on his face but he won't really deny it

Even your own friends are convinced that he fancies you and they like to tease you about it yet you don't really see the obvious signs of him liking you. "I swear to Merlin Y/N you're absolutely dense, he FANCIES you, you dummy'' said one of your friends with an exasperated sigh as you looked at her reproachfully. "No he doesn't, we're just friends, he invites me to see his Quidditch games and we study in the library together and we hang out at Honeydukes at times...he's also nice enough to ask me about my day and he likes holding hands with me for some reason but we're just friends...nothing more than that'' you replied as your friends around you groaned and made noises of protest of your naivete and threw a cushion at you 

Oliver feels like he can't control his feelings for you anymore, his mind is filled with thoughts regarding you, deep down he's worried and has the paranoia that someone could take advantage of your kindness and naivete which he wouldn't allow to happen at any cost, which was why he needed to ensure that he was always around you at all times. He even ended up changing his schedule just so he could be in the same classes as you and he felt his heart race against his chest whenever he felt your hand brush against his. He feels like he has the strength to fight the world for you, you're his pillar of strength, he wants to be your man and take care of you and provide for you. The other day you received a low score for Potions which was something you didn't expect and you felt quite sad about it which hurt his heart, he wanted to see you happy and when he saw tears prickling at the corner of those lotus shaped eyes of yours, he felt like his heart was sinking. He gently caressed your cheek with his palm and held you in his arms close to him and stroked your hair telling you that you did your best and it was all right and how he would always be there for you and the two of you spent the rest of the night with each other as he bought you your favorite sweets from Honeydukes 

There are times when his mind starts to wander as he thinks about how soft and lovely it would be to kiss your lips while he holds you, how he could be your protector, how beautiful you'd look being married to him and having a family with him...yep, he's that far gone and detached from reality already, imagining and thinking about a happy married life with you. The thought of you being someone else and someone else daring to kiss those lips of yours made him infuriated, it just made his blood boil to no end. You were HIS, at times he felt like just wrapping you in silk like the precious doll that you were for him and locking you in a room so other people won't be able to get to you. He'd never blame you for anything, it's those lousy pests around you that are looking forward to taint your innocence. He doesn't stalk you, he just...follows you around to keep you safe, Hogwarts is still a pretty dangerous place after all and the last thing he needs is for you, his beloved to get hurt 

He doesn't classify himself as someone who has rage issues but when he heard some Ravenclaw dudes talking about you inappropriately his mind went blank with fury and broke a lot of their bones and they had to spend a few months in the Hospital Wing. His reputation would also come into play here, why would someone ever suspect golden boy Oliver Wood, the star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team beating up and hexing people for no reason? It sounded unlikely didn't it? He isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty to ensure your happiness and safety, even if he has to get blood on his hands to make you be with him so be it. You're destined to be with him and he'd eliminate and get rid of anything and everything that would stand against his dream of the two of you being happily married to each other...

[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.”

[writing-in-the-impala]

Ridikkulis - (Remus Lupin x Reader) One Shot

Request: Hiii i Just read your Last Post for Secret smokes and Had an Idea. How about a oneshot of Professor Lupine x Student reader. Its time to learn the ridikkulus spell and its Readers Turn. When the boggart comes Out tho... Is a werewolf. Reader ist too scared to defend themselves and Lupine is too stunned to Help for a Moment. (Tw: blood Optional:) in that Split Second, the boggart werewolf attacks reader and it becomes a lil bloodY. Anything after that Scene IS Up to you <;3

TW: Blood, description of scars

Pairing: Professor! Remus Lupin x Student Reader

Word Count: 2458

A/N: Hello, I received this a while ago and finally got around to posting it, I’ve never written based on requests so I hope this is what you wanted. I’m sorry if I didn’t get it right. ❤️‍🔥 Also if you want to submit a request go ahead! It may take me while to get around to it but definitely it’s fun to do something based on other people’s ideas.

The thunder rumbled outside as you approached the defence against the dark arts classroom. The castle had a darker feeling to it this year with dementors circling the grounds but Professors Lupins lessons bought some positivity into your days. He was one of the few teachers at school that seemed to know what he was doing and his charisma made you feel warm and safe. Everyone loved his lessons. You didn't really know him well, but you wishes you did. You would often sit in class and think about what he must be really like outside of school, you imagined a friendly yet charismatic man with a hint of mischief.

As you entered his class the room looked almost dark from the clouds outside, Professor Lupin wasn't there when you arrived. Everyone sat down as usual, took out their books, quills and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as handsome as ever as he slowly took his jacket off and cleared his throat.

"Good afternoon," he said in a loud voice making the whole class go silent. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands."

Everyone smiled excitedly, Lupin was new but he already set a good impression as the teacher who let you use real magic. He made the lessons jump off the page. So everyone shut their books and stood right up as Lupin waved his hand causing all the tables and chairs to fly to the side of the room. "Now then, Oliver please will you give me a hand with that wardrobe over there." He gestured for Oliver Wood who nodded and helped Lupin push a large wooden wardrobe into the center of the room. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall."Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly, as a few people jumped backwards in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there." Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about but everyone trusted Lupin to keep them safe. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks - I once met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to give you some real practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?" Lupin look around the room but no one put their hands up, you knew the answer but you didn't want to bring attention to yourself. Lupins eyes scanned the room and landed on you, he gave you a warm smile and you shook your head but his smile just grew larger as he said your name.

"It's a shape-shifter sir." You began with a quiet voice looming around the class as everyone turned to face you. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better my-self," he said with a large smile on his face and a quick wink towards you. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.This means, that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Miss L/N?"

Why did he have to pick on you every time. "Er - because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?" You guessed.

"Precisely, it's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake - tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening." He got a few laughs from the class, loud ones from the group of girls who liked him most. "The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amus-ing.

“We will practise the charm without wands first. After me, please ... riddikulus!”

'Riddikulus!' said the class together.

 “Good,” said Pro­fes­sor Lupin. 'Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Jack.' He said picking on the most shy and scared boy in the class.

“Right, Jack,” said Pro­fes­sor Lupin putting his hand on the boys shoulder as he bought him to the front of the class. “First things first: what would you say is the thing that fright­ens you most in the world”

Jack’s lips moved, but no noise came out. “Didn't catch that, Jack, sor­ry,” said Pro­fes­sor Lupin cheer­ful­ly and gently. Jack explained it would be a spider and Lupin told him how a boy in a different class who was scared of spiders put roller blades on the legs so it was sliding around.

“If Jack is suc­cess­ful, the Bog­gart is like­ly to turn his at­ten­tion to each of us in turn,” said Professor Lupin. “I would like all of you to take a mo­ment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imag­ine how you might force it to look com­ical …’

The room went qui­et. You­ thought … What scared you most in the world? You thought about many things but the thing that won was a Werewolf. But how do you make that funny? You thought about turning it into a puppy, a little dog, not a big one, a big one if it bites you can still hurt you so it had to be something like a chihuahua.

“Ev­ery­one ready?” said Pro­fes­sor Lupin enthusiastically as he hit play on the record player.

“Jack, we’re go­ing to back away,’ said Pro­fes­sor Lupin. ‘Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next per­son for­ward … ev­ery­one back, now, so Jack can get a clear shot –“

Your whole class re­treat­ed, back­ing against the wall, leav­ing Jack alone be­side the wardrobe. He looked pale and fright­ened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was hold­ing his wand ready.

“On the count of three, Jack,” said Pro­fes­sor Lupin, who was point­ing his own wand at the han­dle of the wardrobe. ‘One – two – three – now!’

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Pro­fes­sor Lupin’s wand and hit the door­knob. The wardrobe burst open and a ton of spiders crawled out followed by a huge one, sending shivers even down your spine. Jack backed away, his wand up, mouthing word­less­ly. “R-​r-​rid­diku­lus!” squeaked Jack. There was a noise like a whip-​crack. And the spiders were rolling around on roller blades.

There was a roar of laugh­ter; the Bog­gart paused, con­fused, and Pro­fes­sor Lupin shout­ed. “James! Your turn!” James walked forwards as commanded and the boggart shifted again, he did the spell and everyone laughed again. You were finding it quite enjoyable everyone was laughing and having fun every person in the line looked worried but you all managed to laugh. You almost forgot that you’ll have to face your fear too. Before you knew it, it was your turn, you walked up after a girl named Jasmine Floyd and you shot Lupin a glance as you were filled with anxiety and dread. He smiled at you and shot you a wink before looking at the Boggart that was in the air transforming, the room was filled with a light mood but you felt nothing but fear. A giant furry werewolf with blood all over its fur and giant teeth towered over you, blocking out any light from above. You suddenly felt so small as fear filled you body, you repeated Lupins words in your head, you pictured it as a small barking chihuahua at your feet, you repeated the spell in your mind, then you looked at Lupin before raising your wand… his face was filled with fear, any sense of laughter was gone, he was frozen starring up at the wolf as you were. You realised that maybe you won’t be able to defeat it, that’s when you tried to say the spell but you felt yourself being pushed down to the floor. As you hit the floor a sharp pain shot through your arm, the wolf was above you, that’s when Lupin threw himself in front of you. “Rid­diku­lus!” He shouted as a white orb appeared over you. “Everyone, class is over, please leave.” He shouted as he kneeled over you. You looked around at all the students who were looking at you, their faces not too unalike Lupins when he was looking at the wolf, Lupin was looking at you, saying words. His hands had blood all over them as he moved them wrapping his blazer around you. “I’m so sorry,” was the only thing you could make. He looked so nice above you, you thought and that’s when you felt yourself being lifted. “Stay with me.” You heard him repeat as you walked through the corridor. “In your room?” You asked, curious of if he’s flirting with you. He laughed but his face was filled with dread. “I’m glad you still have a sense of humour Miss L/N.” He said and after that you felt your head feel very light and fuzzy before everything went black.

You felt a bit woozy as you woke up, you were sweating, you opened your eyes and you realised you’re in the hospital wing, it was dark. Your eyes scanned the room as you slowly looked around to see Professor Lupin sleeping next to you on a chair with a book in his lap. You didn’t say anything as you moved around trying to understand what happened and that’s when he came to. “Y/N? Oh thank Merlin. Poppy! Poppy Y/N awake.” He said a bit too loudly for the middle of the night.

“I told you she’ll be fine, Remus, you never listen.” Madam Pomfrey said as she came over to your bed. “You’ve still got a fever darling, you’ll have to sleep here tonight, how are you feeling?”

“I have a sharp pain in my left side.” You said trying to sit up, Professor Lupin had almost puppy dog eyes as he looked down at you, he seemed worried you weren’t sure why. “What happened?” You asked as Madam Pomfrey walked away to get some pain relief potion.

“It’s my fault I’m awfully sorry, the Boggaart it got close enough to hurt you. It was a..it was a werewolf.” You never heard this tone of voice on Lupin he sounded hurt and defeated, almost like the life was drained out of him by a demantour. “Horrible creatures, it happened so quickly, it got to you before I managed to stop it, I’m so awfully sorry. Madam Pomfrey said the cut shouldn’t scar you’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is, I should’ve stopped it, horrible creatures. All they do is hurt people, I froze for a moment, I am your teacher I shouldn’t have allowed it.” He said angry at himself.

“You know they’re innocent people.” You said gently.

“Who?”

“The wolves, I don’t appreciate you calling them horrible creatures, they’re just sick, like I am right now.” You said and Lupins expression became hard to read.

“But it hurt you, and you fear it, how come you’re so forgiving.”

“Well a boggart hurt me not a real wolf. Besides I think you can be scared but understand it. You or I could be bit by one, and our lives would change forever that’s what I’m scared of, I’m scared of what would happen to me, unlike a dog attack a wolf attack makes people look down on you, call them stuff like a kind man like you even said. Don’t you find that terrifying professor?” You asked and he had a small warm smile.

“You’re very smart for your age. I found it terrifying to have a students blood on my hands first week on the job.” He said and you laughed but it hurt to laugh. He held your hand as you were hit by the pain. “I’m awfully sorry, that’s the last time I make the mistake of a practical lesson.”

“Professor as a student who bled all over your floor I beg you not to stop these lessons, it’s the only fun we have at Hogwarts. Maybe some safety shields would help.” You said and he squeezed your hand and have you a warm smile.

“Duly noted.” He said and shot you a wink as Madam Pomfrey came back with a potion.

“Please sit up for me love, this will help stop the pain and prevent any scars.” She said as you sat up slowly, Lupin helping adjust the pillow below you.

“Shame, I like the battle scar, I defeated a werewolf and lived to tell the story.” Lupin cleaned his throat. “I think I defeated it.” He said making you laugh.

“Yeah but I’m the one with the battle scar.” You winked at him and he laughed in truth this time, with one hand on your shoulder to comfort you as you drank the disgusting potion as if he knew exactly how bad it will taste.

“Professor, I believe this young girl will be okay now that she’s woken up you do not have to spend all night here.” Pomfrey said as she took the empty vial from you.

“Thank you Poppy, but I prefer to stay just in case, this is all my fault after all.” He said looking over you warmly, you appreciated his company. As Pomfrey walked away you turned to him and asked him what he was reading, he told you the name of the book and you asked if he could read it out loud. He agreed and just like that you drifted to sleep, Remus J Lupins voice washing you into sweet slumber as your head rested on his shoulder. Remus felt comfort being by your side, he was relived you were okay and truly amazed by the lack of hate you had for the creature that nearly killed you. The creature you were sleeping so peacefully on.

MASTER LIST | Remus Lupin x Reader series

Requests are open however they will be slow as I'm busy writing Secret Smokes!

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

In The Woods Somewhere

Chapter 5: Club 27 Or The Slow-Suicide Syndrome

Summary: A window to Iggy’s past.

Pairing: Father Ignatius x nun!afab!Reader

Word Count: ~ 2.7k

Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat 18+!, Explicit Descriptions Of Withdrawal Symptoms, Explicit Descriptions Of Ill-Advised Intravenous Druge Use, Angst And Whump In Abundance

A/N: I’m dead serious, please heed the content warnings and rather just skip this chapter if any of the mentioned things make you uncomfortable or upset!

Young Iggy Playlist dropped, folks! Please check it out, it's a whole vibe and I put a lot of work into it! 🫶🏻

Tagging: @queer-crusader @midnight-mess @theprettiesthead @blueberrypancakesworld @theidiotwhowrites @nelegance

Carry on, my wayward son

There′ll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more

- Carry On Wayward Son By Kansas

Municipality of Kiama, New South Wales, 1987

Sharp winds coming from the close coastline whipped at Iggy’s baggy clothes; an olive green zipper hoodie slacking around bony wrists and covering a thin gray shirt, his arms crossed in front of his chest to keep as much of the fleeting heat between the flimsy layers of fabric. The cold he was experiencing wasn’t only coming from the outside but much more from within, discomfort growing and nagging harder with every passing minute.

“Benji, where the fuck are you?” He muttered under his breath, the exhale carrying the stale smell of his last cigarette and his heel bouncing up and down, once pristine trainers tapping against a gravelly, broken concrete road.

Iggy had been waiting for his peculiar acquaintance for about 20 minutes now, each of them feeling like an eternity, and no matter how often he pinballed his gaze from the open side of the street back to the cul-de-sac looping in a small roundabout behind him, there was no trashy, rusty-red Ford Falcon in sight.

He felt cold sweat gathering at the nape of his neck, droplets soaking astray strands beneath a frazzled low ponytail, not blonde but also not quite coppery hair being held together by a worn-out hair tie. Next to come knocking would be the nausea and then the ache riddling through his bone marrow, gnawing away at him so deep on the inside that it would make him do stupid things to make it stop but before it even got that far, Iggy had about an hour left, one and a half if his body was generous with him today. His stomach rumbled dangerously, trying to remind the not-quite-30-year-old that he hadn’t eaten anything besides a pack of somewhat stale potato crisps the other day.

The gurgling sound emitting from his abdomen pushed Iggy to take off on his own eventually. Damned be Benji for being a fucking no-show. Iggy didn't need him. He knew where he had to go when he needed to; the place not exactly his favourite to score but, being a bit of a junk fiend, you gotta do what you gotta do and Kiama wasn't exactly an El Dorado where opiates came streaming down in rivers.

The worst would be the walk along the beach at this time of day: people getting off work, families throwing Frisbees through the air, dogs barking in excitement, tails wagging as they try to jump just high enough to catch it—picture-perfect white picket fence fantasy.

Most days, Iggy just wanted to be invisible to all of them. He'd tried to fit in, but one couldn't shake being a natural-born outlier, it seemed, and somehow everybody noticed - a joy to have in class but still the last to be picked for the dodgeball team, relentless worker but still not quite employee of the month typa beat.

“Watch where you goin’! Fucking knobhead!” A jogger nearly ran Iggy over, almost knocked into the sand by his shoulder he started stumbling.

“Fuck off!” He hollered after the jogger before his arms shot out, instinctively trying to feather the inevitable fall.

Palms grazed the sidewalk slightly before Iggy rolled over into the warm sand, limbs awkwardly splayed out for a moment and eyes squinting to deal with the sun practically laser-beaming at him.

“Fucking knobhead yourself, mate.” Iggy groaned as the dull pangs of pain in his shoulder slowly ebbed away; that'd be a juicy bruise later.

“You good?” He had to shield his eyes with the flat of his sand-covered palm to look at who was talking to him.

“Huh?” He found himself a bit dumbfounded as his gaze darted back at a teenage girl, couldn’t be older than 16 or 17 given her high-school uniform.

“Are you alright, mister?” Mister? Damn, he might be one of the last living dinosaurs, at least he sure felt like it.

“Yeah.” Iggy managed, reluctantly taking the hand being reached out to him.

Sand crumbled off his back, some falling and some getting lost in the back pockets of his worn-through jeans, as he worked himself back onto his feet with the girl's help.

“Thanks.”, Iggy scooped at the pockets of his zipper, tiny beige grains drilling into the in-between of his nails and the pads of his fingers, “Are you okay?”

With his lips pursed in sensory discomfort, he looked at the high school student, watery black mascara splodges peppered around her lower lashline, and bloodshot eyes that looked like she’d been crying harshly not that long ago.

“I will be.”, She worked her face for a faint smile, fingers instinctively wiping around her eyes, smearing the make-up along her under-eyes, “It’s a bit of a day, y’know?”

“Sure am familiar with that.”, Iggy nodded briefly, thoughts already tearing away from the random, albeit kind, stranger as his mind scrambled back to the objective at hand, “You take care, yeah?”

They exchanged a swift nod, Iggy ready to tear himself away from the interaction whilst she looked after him hurrying along the sidewalk until the green zipper and strawberry blonde hair disappeared in the distance.

By the time Iggy arrived at what was widely considered a sketchy part of the usually sleepy and dreamy coast town Kiama, he’d already forgotten most about the girl, the curiosity about what might’ve happened to her vanished quickly because why would he even bother? Probably a tanked algebra test or an unrequited high-school love; simple things that had happened to everybody and would most likely happen to everybody still stuck in the gears of public education torture.

No, Iggy had more pressing matters to tend to. However, before finishing the beeline through a thoroughly neglected front yard, he paused, having Benji’s nagging tone echoing through the back of his head, rambling on about how he shouldn’t go to the den alone because the people rotting away in there weren’t quite right in the noggin’. Thinking about it, Iggy almost produced a laugh because neither Benji nor he himself was actually all that sorted in the brain - that train had left the station about two years ago.

Whatever, really. Go in, score, get loaded, and become invisible again; easy peasy lemon squeezin’ if you’d been dancing along deadbeat tunes for long enough.

The front door wasn’t locked, as per usual, and Iggy pushed it open with the tip of his foot, a certain stench of vinegar layered with the pungent stink of alcohol and dried piss wafting at him like a brick wall of nose-numbing fetor; this place smelled infamously bad, especially considering the number of broken windows that should allow for some sort of airflow.

Iggy dry heaved a little but pushed through regardless, cold sweats and growing discomfort egging him on the make a fucking move soon.

Before he even encountered another soul, Iggy dug for a slim roll of bills, 30 bucks a cap, cradling it in the palm of his hand and ready to slip to the next best someone who could hook him up. Whilst Iggy tried to keep the rising disgust in control, he stepped over endless piles of debris: brightly orange needle covers, strips of burnt aluminum foil, dirt, and other cluttered trash; a see a rubbish to wade through.

“Ayo, Iggy, mate!” His face shot to the side and he stopped in his tracks.

Connor, a rather distant acquaintance in Benji’s orbit, sat leaning against the wall, crouched away next to a dirt-stained sofa.

“‘Sup, Con! Rily somewhere ‘round?” Iggy noticed the muffled sounds of a telly playing something in one of the rooms further into the den, feeding the hopes that one of the more diplomatic freaks, Rily, hung around somewhere in here.

“Nope.”, Iggy’s hopes got crushed immediately, “Haven’t seen him in a bit, actually. You need some, eh?”

Iggy would’ve very much liked to simply jam the whole shoe into Connor’s greasily grinning face, the man immediately sniffing out a possible gain for himself.

“You’re lucky! Got it all set up right here.”, To prove his point, Con pulled out a delicate array of three loaded syringes, even the caps were popped back on, “Don’t even have to cook it up yersel’!”

“When?” Iggy ogled the syringes splayed out like colored pencils in Connor’s pale hand.

“Half ‘n hour ago, maybe? I’m all good on it, mate.” The description of all good was certainly a spectrum in this decrepit place but Connor was right, the proposal annoyingly convenient for a jonesing Iggy.

“Smack?” Iggy inquired and Connor nodded, “Aye!”

The transaction was brief, Iggy leaning down to hand Con the money in exchange for a cap.

“Always fancy doin’ business with you, Ig’s.” Connor sneered as Iggy scurried away, working himself deeper into this garbage dump that was particularly grimy even for a shooting gallery.

Iggy hurried upstairs, mind rattling and racing because some days he was nothing short of an idiot. It felt nice to have the ready and waiting but still lacking the proper rigs. His hands had turned sweaty by the time he slumped down on a pile of old, sat-through pillows, pawing at his pockets to perhaps find something to tie himself off with, however, he wasn’t even wearing a belt and for a moment, he considered just doing it without any, that was, until fidgeting, nimble fingers touched the thick cord looping through the hood of his sweater; that….should do it.

Iggy felt his heart picking up a beat as he pulled the cord free from the zipper, the thing easily long enough to wrap around his upper arm at least twice, and whilst the gnawing greed haunting his bloodstream took over eventually, he shoved at the sleeve, pushing the fabric to pile in folds at his shoulder. The following movements were second nature to him by now; one end of the cord tightly secured, squeezed between ribcage and armpit, two tight wrap-arounds just above the crook of his arm, Iggy’s fist pumped until track mark-spotted veins protruded. Even though he’d lost his IV virginity a good while ago, Iggy never really settled well with the uncomfortable pressure of tying himself off. It egged him on to pull the orange cover from the syringe with his lips, cradling the see-through polyethylene body between index and middle finger in his free hand and thumb lightly moving the plunger to make sure that no air was left.

Entirely juxtaposed with the harsh and uncomfortable pressure emitting from the cord around his upper arm, Iggy felt indifferent to the brief prick of the needle and the inevitably following burn. It was part of the ritual and he could deal with the perishability of the sensation, eyes and mind much more transfixed on the tiny gush of red flowing back into the needle, indicating that he successfully it a vein that hadn’t collapsed - yet.

He thumbed at the plunger, the amber concoction entering his bloodstream. Just as fast as the silvery tip of the syringe had pierced through his skin, it went out again, a little droplet pooling at the injection site to be soaked up by the fuzzy fabric of Iggy’s sleeve that came tumbling down again as soon as he unwrapped his arm and tossed the cord. Within seconds a strange metallic taste spread across his tongue and after another heartbeat or two the much-anticipated chemical orgasm simply didn’t take off.

“Con?!” Iggy shoved himself back onto his feet with his back against the wall before he stumbled off to the rotten stairway railing.

“Connor?!” What had been intended as a yell only came as gargled noise, strangled-off and breathless as Iggy’s heart started thundering inside his chest.

He toppled to the side, trying to maneuver a gradually more out-of-control body down the stairs.

“Con…what-”, He’d reached the corner of the curving stairway, arms wrapped around his torso, as a violent gush of vomit shot up from the back of his throat past his lips, splattering onto a carpeted floor scattered with burn stains and trash, “Wa-was ‘n that?!”

Iggy hurled out another mouthful of barf, his entire upper body cramping as sharp jolts of pain cut through his chest

“Oh, that?” Connor, looking up from his crooked seat, eyes droopy and half-lidded, entirely unbothered by Iggy howling out in pain, “T’was a speedball, Ig’s.”

Iggy stared down at Connor, eyes wide and pupils dilated, and in a moment of clarity, he realized that he was on the likely onset of having a heart attack. The pain in his chest knocked the air from his lungs and his limbs started tingling, making it hard to fight himself down the stairs completely.

“Phone?” An amalgamation of acidic vomit residue and drool trickled from his bottom lip upon trying to utter the question.

“Phone? Does this look like a Hilton to you?”, Connor laughed, Iggy’s ribcage spasmed in heart palpitations and Connor laughed, “Oh, you’ll be jus’ fine.”

“I have an inkling that you weren’t just fine.” You stated, chin resting on your knees as the first nicotine rush after a decade rumbled through you, head comfortably dizzy for a few minutes.

“I very much was not.”, Ignatius returned with a brief nod of his head, gray smoke steaming out of his nostrils as he exhaled, his gaze darting right up against the ceiling of the chapel as he rested laying on his back next to you, frizzed-up strands of hair falling against the bridge of his nose, “Junk, heroin, is bad enough on its own but a speedball is H cooked up with some cocaine and in Connor’s case a whole fucking lot of cocaine. I passed out minutes later, after having thrown up all over myself. Next thing I know, I come to in a hospital bed. My whole body hurts and my sister is standing at the foot of the bed, looking at me, and I’ll never forget that, with nothing but malice in her eyes, going ‘Next time you pull a stunt like that please just take a noose, should be more efficient.’”

“She thought you tried to kill yourself?” You pushed and prodded a little at the topic.

“Can’t even blame her. Shooting up multiple times a day was nothing but a slowed-down suicide. Couldn’t be bothered to put effort into it, yet, I didn’t wanna live either.” He took another drag from his cigarette, snipping the ashes onto the stone tiles.

“I’ll wipe that!” It practically erupted out of him as he grew aware of the way you looked at the falling ashes, pulling a little chuckle from you immediately.

“So, you got fucked up so bad that you said ‘Fuck it, I need Jesus!’” Ignatius couldn’t help but laugh at that as well.

“I mean, that’s one way to put it. Now, what about you?” You’d waited on that question, ready to lean above him, head slightly cocked to the side.

“You alright, mister?” At first, he furrowed his brows, confusion washing over his face in one languid wave before it made way for widening eyes, his lips dropping agape a little.

“No fucking way. You?! What happened?!”

[pinkxlicious]

Oliver Wood x Reader

Kind of short, but this is an old oneshot from my wattpad that isn't as cringey as some of my other fics/oneshots.

Word: 1048

~~~

"Can we go back inside, Oli?" you pleaded, it was almost 3am yet Oliver was still partying hard with some other Gryfindors. All of your friends had went back to their dorms to sleep, so the only person you could stay with was Oliver.

You were afraid of walking back into the school alone since you were scared of the dark and lately Hogwarts was not the safest place to be. Voldemort was alive, and yet no one seemed to be phased by that.

"Oli?? Can you even hear me?!" you said loudly as you tugged on his sweater. Oli simply shrugged you off and shot you an annoyed look.

"Fuck off..." His words were slurred from all the drinks he had. Oliver then proceeded to prance over to the twins within a blink of an eye, leaving you alone in darkness with barely any time to process everything through your head.

"Oliver!" you called as you went after him, he knew about your fear but his drunken self didn't seem to care about that. He just kept on prancing around the dimly lighted field with you running after him with paranoia and anxiety flooding your systems as he moved towards the darker areas of the field.

"Oliver please!!! Let's go inside Im scared, please..." you begged as you kept watch of your surroundings, terrified that a death eater would jump out and beat your dumbass to death.

You slowed down as you were running out of stamina. You couldn't run anymore so you stopped and tried to listen to his footsteps in the grass. But they grew softer as he ran further away from you, everyone has already left. The only people you could see were the twins heading back inside the school with their wands lit with light. But just your luck! You had forgot your wand in your dorm. So you stood there in silence trying so hard to hear to any sound.

You heard absolutely nothing as your hands started to shake in fear, you were alone in a dark field with no human being in sight, no wand, no weapon, no flashlight. You slowly got to the ground and tried to calm yourself down and figure out how to get back to Oliver.

Luckily the air was warm so you wouldn't have to worry about dying of frostbite. It had been a good five to ten minutes so Oliver was already long gone. There were no stars in the sky and the moon was hidden within thick dark clouds. You could barely see and you had no idea where the school was as you couldn't trust your self to head in the right direction.

Every soft rustle of nature gave you a mini heart attack. You curled up into a ball in the grass and wrapped yourself up in your jacket to comfort yourself. And as minutes passed you grew more and more exhausted, but yet you were terrified to fall asleep. And you were terrified to go back, scared that you would go in the wrong direction like a blind bat and navigate to the even darker forbidden forest. What if you fell into a trap?? You still remember little Harry Potter telling you about that dark figure he had seen in the forest during detention.

It was probably past 3am, you felt yourself fall asleep in the grassy fields. You tried to stop yourself, but there was no use. You weren't going anywhere because of your fear, staying in one spot was stupid but it was the best option since you were afraid to even twitch, terrified that the slightest noise would attract something horrible to come your way.

. . .

"What's she doing here?" a sweet voice said,

"I Don't know," a deep voice responded.

You suddenly felt a shake on your shoulder and your eyes were then blinded by sunlight. You groaned as you realized you were luckily still in the same spot as you were last night. Nothing has happened to you.

"Sorry to wake you, but we have quidditch practice!" You recognized the girl as Angelina Johnson.

"Angelina?" you said confused,

"Oh honey what are you doing here?? I could barely recognize you, no offense but you're a mess!" Angelina cried as she pulled out a live of grass from your hair. She helped you up and help you get rid of the dirt on your clothes.

"Oliver left me here," you said shakily as everything processed through your head. "H-He was drunk and he started running and I went after him because I- I was scared and then he got away and he never came back!" you said quickly as Angelina pulled you into a hug. She was one of your best friends and knew about your fear of the dark.

"Im sorry sweetie, Im sure he didn't mean it on purpose," Angelina said softly, "but if you want me to, I can beat him with a broomstick."

You grinned and giggled a little bit, before you noticed Oliver stumbling onto the field with bags under his eyes.

He was having a hang over.

"Was Oliver in the common room last night?" you asked curiously, wanting to know if he made it back to the school.

"Yes, he was babbling about how he wishes- oh never mind," Angelina said giving you a quick smile,

"No, tell me," you said looking at her expectingly. She cringed,

"It's nothing good though..." she trailed off

"Just tell me please,"

"...He said that he wishes that- that you could just leave him alone.. then he said some not so nice things about you," Angelina said frowning, "Im so sorry honey, I probably shouldn't have said anything." she said as she noticed your frown and the look of hurt in your eyes.

"No, it's my fault, I wanted to know," you said sighing and rubbing your eyes. "I'll see you later, I just need to get refreshed... thank Merlin it's a Saturday..." You referred to your dirty clothes and messy hair, Angelina nodded and gave you a sympathetic smile.

"Take care of yourself okay? Don't think too much of Oliver, okay? He doesn't deserve to be thought of at the moment," Angelina said before blowing you a kiss goodbye as you made your way back to the school, that was closer than it seemed from last night.

[l-uminescentt]

˚⁀➷｡˚ REQUESTS ━━━━OPEN!

hi! if you guys have any requests for me to do or if you just want to chat (i love making bffs), press ‘⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹ talk to me!’ in my bio

i only do character x fem! reader requests (just bc i feel like i won’t do female! character x female reader or, male! character x male! reader any justice)

so just give me the character you want, & a short summary and i’ll get writing! — as i still run my hotd blog i’m just going to prioritise regulus, remus & oliver wood requests (my faves)

all characters will be aged over 18, which will normally be stated in my notes before each one-shot.)

[z0mbieb0ybyersblog]

request rules!

HOW TO REQUEST

— requests can be sent through my inbox! aka the button on my profile that says request

— state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and what you want with it

— do you have any specifics for the reader? male, female, blonde, poc, etc?

— PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOT ME TO WRITE SOMETHING THAT JUST SAYS "___ x reader (blank)" WITH NO FURTHER EXPLANATION! GIVE ME A PLOT IDEA! And if you want include a prompt you want in it!

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

└▸

male, female, and gender neutral reader

or no reader, I do ships too!!

alternative universe: soulmates, coffee shop, roommates, royal, bookstore, fake relationship, coworkers, neighbors, flower shop, library, bodyguard, modern era, band/rockstar, celebrity, mermaid, pirate, teachers (you can also mix them in your request, like asking for bookstore and coffee shop au! if that makes sense)

Headcanons, one-shots, drabble, imagine, etc.

poly relationships, whether it be character x reader x character or character x character x character 

angst

fluff

smut

omega verse

WHAT I WONT WRITE:

└▸

illegal ships (incest or underage)

dark or yandere

abuse

abortion

pregnancy

someone having cancer

rape/sexual assault

canonically gay characters with fem identifying readers/characters, same thing with canonically lesbian characters with masc identifying readers/characters (platonically is fine, romantically isnt)

character list

bolded means they’re my favorite characters to write!

DOCTOR WHO

Nine, Ten, Eleventh, Thirteen, Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Jack Harkness, Donna Noble

RED, WHITE, & ROYAL BLUE

Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry, June Claremont-Diaz, Nora Holleran, Bea

TED LASSO

Ted Lasso, Jamie Tartt, Roy Kent, Keeley Jones, Rebecca Welton

STRANGER THINGS

Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson

THE OUTSIDERS

Ponyboy Curtis, Johnny Cade, Sodapop Curtis, Darry Curtis, Steve Randall, Twobit Matthews, Dallas Winston

MARVEL

Matt Murdock, Peter Parker (Tobey, Andrew, Tom), Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Loki, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff

[more to be added]

911 FOX

Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz, Maddie Buckley, Howie Han

STAR WARS

Luke Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

[more to be added]

HARRY POTTER

— golden trio era

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Cedric Diggory, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Oliver Wood, Draco Malfoy

— marauders era

Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, Lily Evans, Pandora Lovegood, Regulus Black, Dorcas Meadows, Marlene McKinnon, Barty Crouch Jr, Evan Roiser, Alice Fortescue, Mary MacDonald, Narcissa Black

[If you want one of these characters, like Remus for example to be older like during the Harry Potter movies let me know!]

— legacy era

Sebastian Sallow, Amit Thakkar, Poppy Sweeting, Natsai Onai, Garreth Weasley, Ominis Gaunt

[sawyer-is-not-my-name]

send in requests <3

Imma start writing x reader fics again cuz I missed doing it. And I no longer like AO3 or wattpad for my works so imma post them here.

Quick introduction to me, you can call me Sawyer, I'm a minor. I go by any pronouns. I'm currently trying to read through all the Riordan-verse books which is proving to be very time consuming.

Anywaysssss here is what I will and won't write for

Will write:

one-shots

headcannons

Masc! Reader

Fem! Reader

GN! Reader

FtM! Reader

MtF! Reader

Platonic/Bff/sibling

angst

death

fluff

sibling reader

dysphoria comfort

Poly relationships

AUs

really I’ll write anything within reason

won’t write:

incest

pedophilia

toxic idealized relationships ( i.e. relationships where they cheat and abuse each other, but come back to eachother because theyre in love and they learned their lesson but they’ll likely do it again)

Abuse in general, its a tough subject for me so id rather no

suicide/ED

Smut

depending on what you request it may be out of my comfort zone to do. 

 to request:

explain your request as much as you like (i.e. Nervous Jason Grace X son of apollo reader, fluffy picnic date) just a basic gist of what you want it to be about or you can go in depth if you want specific things to happen.

Fandoms I’ll write for:

Riordan-verse

this fandom is currently on hold for a bit

Percy Jackson

Jason Grace

Piper McLean

Connor Stoll

Travis Stoll

Luke Castellan

Nico di Angelo

Will Solace 

Leo Valdez

Carter Kane

Walt stone

Sadie Kane (Platonic/sibling)

Piper McLean

Thalia Grace

Annabeth Chase

Rachel Elizabeth Dare

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

Draco Malfoy

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Oliver Wood

Cedric Diggory

Ron Weasley

Ginny Weasley

Hermione Granger

Hogwarts Legacy

Sebastian Sallow

Ominis Gaunt

Garreth Weasley

Poppy Sweeting

Natsai Onai

Imelda Reyes

Criminal minds 

Spencer Reid 

Derek Morgan

Penelope Garcia

Wednesday 

Tyler Galpin

Xavier Thorpe

Wednesday Addams

Enid Sinclair

literally any of Evan’s characters from the show except Jeff Pfister and Austin Sommers. Only cuz Jeff was annoying as hell and I need to rewatch double feature as I only remember bits and pieces. Also kinda iffy on writing for Kai Anderson, like maybe pre-cult Kai but even then maybe not.

Shameless

Ian Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Carl Gallagher

Ahs

The Last of us

Joel

Ellie

all of these are subject to change, depending on what I feel, and whether or not my opinion changes, if you don’t see something on here feel free to suggest it and if I know it, I can try my best to do the request! 

[imsimpingagain]

Requesting

I am having the worst writers block so feel free to request.

REQUEST RULES

NO

I will not write for a lot of kinks, mostly because I don't feel personally comfortable with them. I also will not write detailed smut as I just am really not good at it. I will also not write poly relationships.

I won't write anything including non-con, dub-con, stalking, pedophilia, age gap, student x teacher, or bodily harm coming to reader including self harm or suicide as those are triggers. I am also sorry to all non-binary and male readers, but I cannot write for y'all as I have no experience being non-binary or a guy. I will mostly write headcannons unless I can come up with a one-shot for the request.

YES

I will feel comfortable doing pregnancy, suggestive or non descriptive smut, such as headcannons I have on what a character would be like during that time, dating, marriage, aging up characters to fit a request if you want a mature headcannon, and I will write about the topic of periods. I will also write fem!reader x characters. Feel free to request something personal such as a certain feature, headcannons including tit size, hair length, weight, personality trait, etc. and I can write something for that as well.

KINKS -Lactation kink -Breeding kink -Hair pulling(?) -Spanking -Semi public -Oral(both ways)

CHARACTERS I WILL WRITE FOR

JUJUTSU KAISEN -Gojo Satoru -Nanami Kento -Yuji Itadori -Fushiguro Megumi -Yuta Okkotsu -Zenin Maki -Nobara Kugisaki

HARRY POTTER -Cedric Diggory -Percy Weasley -Oliver Wood -Harry Potter -Ron Weasley -Fred Weasley -George Weasley -Collin Creevey -Hermione Granger -Ginny Weasley -Remus Lupin -Nymphadora Tonks -Sirius Black

HOGWARTS LEGACY -Sebastian Sallow -Ominis Gaunt -Natsai Onai -Poppy Sweeting -Amit Thakkar -Garreth Weasley -Leander Prewett -Aesop Sharp -Mirabel Garlick

MAZE RUNNER -Newt -Gally -Minho

BAULDER'S GATE 3 -Halsin -Gale -Will -Astarion -Shadowheart -Laezel -Karlach

Please message me if you have any questions about characters I will write for, things I feel comfortable writing about, and any other questions you may have. Please also be respectful when requesting and please allow me to take time to write and publish on Tumblr. It takes time and effort to write for these characters.

[crims0nwritess]

Introduction

Helloooo, this is my first tumblr post so I apologize for how bad it is😭

Anyways I write fanfics! Here are the fandoms I will write for:

Marvel

Stranger things

The owl house

Wednesday

Enola Holmes

Harry Potter

Avatar the last airbender/ Avatar legend of korra

Heartstopper

Limits/Requirements

What I will write:

Fluff

Gay stories (M/M & M/GN)

Character x reader

Headcanons

One-shots

Requests

Platonic stories with female characters

Poly Relationships

LIGHT smut/suggestive situations (!only for characters that are not underage!)

Imagines

Coming out imagines (trans/queer/ace/poly friendly!)

What I will NOT write:

Angst (im bad at it😭)

Straight stories (M/F)

Romantic stories with female characters

Long/Multi chapter stories

Character x character (unless its a poly ship with the reader)

Extreme age-gap

Pro-ships

Extreme smut

About me!

My name is Crimson!

Im gay

My pronouns are he/they

Very amateur writer

I prioritize requests!!!

I won't be constantly writing cuz ya know life but I will make sure that I see and respond to requests

I have an ao3 account with the same name but I havent posted anything yet😭

Characters

Will be accepting requests for these characters

Marvel

Peter Parker (My #1)

Andrew!Peter Parker

Tobey!Peter Parker

Marc Spector

Steven Grant

Sam Wilson

Bucky Barnes

Eddie Brock

Matt Murdock

Clint Barton

Scott Lang

Stephen Strange (Platonic only)

Pietro Maximoff

Tony Stark (Platonic only)

Thor

Namor

Vision

Wade Wilson

Steve Rogers

Bruce Banner

Shang-Chi

Scott Summers

Leo Fitz

Kang the Conqueror/Nathaniel Richards (New!)

Stranger things

Dustin Henderson (my #1)

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers

Lucas Sinclair

Jonathan Byers

Steve Harrington

Argyle

Jim Hopper

Enzo/Dmitri

The Owl House

Hunter

Thats basically it but I will do a lot of platonic imagines with all the other characters

Wednesday

Tyler

Ajax (my #1)

Pugsley

Eugene

Enola Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Tewksbury

A lot of platonic imagines for the rest of the characters as well

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley (my #1)

Neville Longbottom

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Oliver Wood

Cedric Diggory

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

Avatar TLA/LOK

Aang

Sokka

Zuko

Mako

Bolin

+bunch of platonic stuff

Heartstopper

Nick

Charlie

Thats basically it

Extra

Please send requests! :) Im really bad at coming up with ideas lol

I probably forgot a bunch of stuff on here but yeah

Thats it! Byeee