wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2009-02-11 09:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, katie, marcus |
Special Delivery For: lady_green_bat
Title:Witches' Quidditch Omnioculars
Author/Artist: thisaestus
Recipient's LJ name: lady_green_bat
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Katie Bell/Marcus Flint
Word Count: 3276
Warnings (if any): Do you warn for het in a het smut fest?
Summary: Katie Bell is going to kill Angelina. As soon as she stops dying of embarrassment
Katie Bell was bemused to find herself standing on the balcony of a villa overlooking a bright blue sea. The doors and windows behind her were all open wide, and long white curtains fluttered slowly in the warm breeze. She looked around, but saw no one. She wandered to the railing of the balcony, sighing contentedly as she watched the waves lap at the sandy shore. It was so relaxing, surprisingly so. Maybe she should take advantage of the scenery, and walk along the shore, get her toes warm in the sand. Too bad she didn't have a swimsuit. The water was probably the perfect temperature, and she'd probably look stunning in her suit, instead of feeling insecure about not having time lately to take better care of her figure. England was so dreary this time of year- the Mediterranean was such a treat. Was it the Mediterranean? She wasn't actually certain.
She jumped, startled, when she felt a hand on her arm. Her bare arm. Huh. Back home, she'd be bundled up in two jumpers and a cloak on top of that, fighting Mittens for the chair closest to the fire. A lovely baritone voice was apologizing for startling her. She glanced down. A tanned, masculine hand was lightly stroking her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Then her hair was being tucked behind her ear, so he could brush his lips close as he murmured how beautiful she looked today. She shivered as his lips ghosted lower and kisses were pressed against her neck, across her shoulder.
Against her better judgment, her eyes fluttered shut and she turned in his arms, twining her arms around his neck. Their mouths met in the most perfect kiss Katie had ever felt. She was positively melting. Her heart was pounding and the kiss was going on forever and-- suddenly it was hard to breathe. She pulled back, panting, and looked up to see whether he had been as affected as she. As her eyes slid upward, she breathlessly noted his slightly long dark hair, his chiseled jaw, his--
Katie tore the Omnioculars from her eyes and and flung tham against the wall. “That was a rubbish prank!” she spat.
Angelina had the gall to tilt her head, confused. “Didn't it work? What happened?”
Katie sputtered. “Do you even know who- I'm going to kill George!”
“What happened??”
“It was horrible! What could he possibly be thinking?”
“What. Happened!”
Katie flopped back on the couch, covering her face with her hands. “Ang, it was so awful. It was really nice at first. I was in some villa somewhere. There was the ocean and it was warm and no one else was around. And then a handsome guy came up behind me and--”
“And?” Angelina prompted eagerly.
“Andstartedkissingmyneck,” Katie mumbled, embarrassed.
“Speak up! I need to know everything!”
“And he kissed me and it was the bloody best kiss I've ever had and then I opened my eyes and it was Marcus bloody Flint!” Katie realized she'd ended somewhere between a squeak and a shout, and peeked out from under her arm. Angelina was staring at her with her hand on her hip, looking completely unimpressed by her outburst.
“Well, it's the Quidditch line, Katie! Who'd you expect, Harry Potter?”
“Eww! No! But I didn't expect Flint! He's such a troll!” Katie sat up suddenly. “Wait. What? Are you serious, Ang? Flint is supposed to be part of this line?”
“Of course he is!”
“But he's so horrible!”
“He's actually quite good looking these days, as long as you don't look at his teeth.”
Katie stared at Angelina, absolutely flabbergasted.
“This is insane. You've got to be having me on. He's ugly and cruel and hateful and do you even remember what he was like back in school? He cheated at Quidditch all the time and was absolutely horrid! You and George both played with him! It's not like you don't know what kind of person he is! How could you even think of using him for this line?” Katie realized belatedly she was flailing around in her agitation and crossed her arms quickly across her chest.
Angelina rolled her eyes. “He's changed a lot since school. He was one of Quidditch Weekly's 10 Most Eligible Bachelors, so obviously enough people have gotten past our school days that he's considered handsome, and a good catch. Plus he's donating his fees for appearing in the Witches' Quidditch Ominoculars line to charity.”
Katie snorted. “What charity? The Charitable Fund for the Dentally Afflicted?”
Angelina looked at her sternly. “Katie, that's downright cruel. You've never been one to make fun of someone's appearance.”
Katie threw a cushion at her, exasperated. “I can't help it! He was just so mean! I can't possibly believe he's become a good guy in a couple of years. That kind of transformation would take a lifetime!”
Angelina was tapping her fingers on the table thoughtfully. Looking back, Katie should've seen the warning signs. “No, you're right Katie,” she said slowly. “I understand that you couldn't possibly think Flint was a different sort of guy these days, the way he used to be.” A beeping sounded from her wand, and she stood abruptly. “Bollocks, I have to run, George'll be needing me at the shop. He'll be wanting to discuss the Omnioculars with you sometime soon. How about dinner at the Leaky tomorrow at seven? George'll treat. It's the least he can do for his test subject.”
Katie smiled, hating to see her friend go. Angelina was always so busy these days, helping George with the store. “All right then. Seven's good. See you tomorrow.”
Angelina stepped into the Floo, looking behind her to smile at Katie.
************************
Katie walked through the door of the Leaky Cauldron a few minutes past seven. She brushed past Tom as she noticed George's bright red hair shining in the dark room. He and Angelina were seated on the same side of a dark booth, and she heard raucous laughter as she made her way toward them. Smiling, she approached, and was nearly upon them before she realized there was an additional person at the table. She stopped dead in her tracks, wondering if it were too late to turn around and send a quick owl with her apologies. She was going to kill Angelina.
“Katie Bell!” George greeted loudly. “The witch of the hour!”
Angelina grinned at her, a nasty smirk lurking in her eyes.
“You remember Marcus Flint, don't you Katie?”
The man in the booth rose, smiling at her in a surprisingly friendly manner, and gestured toward the seat. Suppressing a groan, she slid in, scooting as far as the seat would allow. Stupid wall. Flint sat back down. These booths were much smaller than they seemed. He was so close she could practically feel the heat radiating off him. He was surely taking up more than his fair share of the seat. She supposed Quidditch had made him bulky with all those muscles. She was not thinking about his muscles. Or the way they had felt holding her in the daydream. She barely resisted the urge to crawl under the table and die.
“Now Marcus,” George was saying, “You know Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes is currently expanding our line of daydream charms for witches. We have the sleep masks, the foot massagers, and the Omnioculars for those poor bored witches whose wizards drag them to every Quidditch match. That's where you come in. And Katie here has agreed to help us test them. She actually tested your Omnioculars yesterday, right, Katie?”
Katie mumbled noncommittally, pretending she was trying to flag down a passing waiter.
“Firewhisky?” she requested desperately. This was going to be terrible. The waiter nodded, scurrying away.
Warm dark eyes turned to her in amusement. “So how was I?”
Katie felt her cheeks burn bright red but finally something was going right, because the waiter arrived with her drink at that moment.
“So which one did you get?” George asked brightly. “The seaside villa? The damsel in distress? Or the Quidditch locker room?”
Against her will she was transported back to Hogwarts. She'd often taken longer than the other girls on the team to shower after a match. She'd liked to linger under the hot water long after the others were gone, washing away all the sweat and easing her tired muscles. It would have been so easy in those days for someone to slip in, meet her under the showers. . .
Katie choked on her Firewhisky, eyes watering and nose burning. She felt a strong hand thumping her between the shoulder blades, to make sure she was still breathing. “Quidditch locker rooms?” she managed to squeak out.
“Sure!” George boomed. “What good would a Quidditch line be if we didn't include a Quidditch locker room? Everyone has a fantasy about the locker rooms.”
“No, I, uh, I got the villa.”
Flint looked at her, dark and inscrutable. “What did you think of the villa?”
“The villa? It was, um. It was really lovely, actually. I almost skipped the Quidditch player part of it and just went down to walk along the ocean.”
A small smile was playing about Flint's lips. “It's actually modeled on my family home in Italy. It was easy for Weasley to draw the details out and base the daydream around that.”
Katie glanced down at Marcus' hands. No wonder they were so tanned. She remembered the sight of them stroking down her pale arm and shivered, then wanted to kick herself. This was ridiculous. She quickly glanced back up, accidentally catching Flint's eye. Great. He had noticed her noticing him.
George was agreeing enthusiastically. “That's right! I expect it actually made the daydream stronger than the other two, since Marcus already had an affinity with the location. Did it seem realistic, Katie? How was it?”
Katie was resolutely ignoring Flint's gaze. “It was fine,” she mumbled.
Angelina's eyes were glittering with mirth. “Just 'fine'?” I thought you said it was, quote, 'the bloody best kiss' you'd ever had.”
Katie was going to kill Angelina. Kill her dead. And then kill her some more. If she ever managed to crawl out of the pit she was going to go hide in as soon as she was finished being frozen in humiliation.
“It was fine,” she insisted through clenched teeth.
Flint put his hand over his heart dramatically. “Only fine, Bell? I'll be sure to try harder next time.”
Angelina and George laughed, damnable traitors, and Katie gulped down the rest of her Firewhisky and signaled for another.
************************
George stretched and Angelina yawned and said they needed to be heading out. Flint stood cordially and Angelina stumbled out, giggling, as George caught her elbow. George said something to Flint that Katie couldn't catch and he replied seriously. George nodded, clapped him on the back, and headed to the Floo.
Katie's mouth dropped open as she stood up. “They left me.”
Flint raised an eyebrow. “That they did.”
“They just- left me. With you! After that fatna- fan- daydream!”
“Ah, but only after I promised to see you home safely.”
“I can Floo!” Katie pronounced indignantly, and promptly stumbled.
Flint merely smirked, and took her elbow to guide her out of the Leaky. Katie was tipsy, but not so tipsy she didn't notice the daggers several tables of young witches were staring at her. She was so irritated that instead of yanking her elbow back, as she'd planned, she gently pulled her elbow away and cosily tucked her arm in his instead.
If Flint were surprised, he didn't show it, only smiled down at her and tucked her arm tighter in his.
They stepped out into the street and he showed no sign of letting go. Flustered, she said, “Flint, I can walk by myself.” She yanked her arm away.
He stopped and looked at her seriously. “Bell, it is my duty to see you home safely and I intend to do just that.” He draped his arm over her shoulder and hauled her close. “And call me Marcus.”
Katie sputtered, but it was a cold night and the weight of his arm was warm and comforting. It made sense not to argue, so she could just get home and this night would be over.
They walked several blocks and were outside Katie's building. She ducked out from under his arm, thanked him and turned to unlock the door.
“Bell. Katie. Wait.”
Katie whirled around. “What, Marcus?”
“Johnson said it was the best kiss you'd ever had. Don't you want to find out if it was real or just the charm?”
Katie glared at him. It was so obvious he was expecting her to chicken out, so he could get the best of her. “Fine,” she snapped. “But not here. Inside, where my neighbors won't see and ask questions.”
He held the door open as she unlocked it. “Why, Katie, I didn't know you had it in you.”
“Shut up, Flint.”
“Marcus.”
Katie turned on the light, and strode into the living room. She lit a fire with her wand, and unceremoniously dumped Mittens out of the good chair.
“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the chair. To her surprise, he sat immediately.
It was the first time she'd properly looked at him all night. She was shocked to discover that Angelina and Quidditch Weekly might have had a point. He was wearing a black jumper and black slacks. It was obvious from the way his clothes hung on his body that there were nice muscles. His hair had grown a bit longer than it was during school. He looked like a man, not the mean, horrible boy he had been.
She walked over to him slowly, and straddled his lap. His surprise was obvious. “Let's get this over with, Flint.” She leaned in, hair swinging down and framing his face.
He grabbed her wrists and leaned back. “Whoa, Katie. I'm sure I wasn't this forward in the daydream. It's not my style. So how would you hope to compare? Let me do this my way.”
Katie shifted, uncomfortable by how much she liked having her wrists in his grasp. Just as she thought it, he released them, and regarded her. He tucked her hair behind her ear, and she shivered involuntarily, remembering her experience with the Omnioculars.
“Ah,” he said. “Did I do that to you in the daydream too?”
Katie nodded, afraid to speak.
He leaned forward, nipped her earlobe softly. “What else did I do, Katie Bell?” he whispered in her ear.
Katie shook her head.
“You don't have to tell me,” he murmured. “I can beat any daydream of me.”
He stroked her cheek, and then she felt a gentle kiss against her neck. Then an open mouth on her throat, kissing her more insistently. She leaned into his kisses, shifting restlessly.
“Do it, Marcus, just kiss me so we can get this over with.”
He tore his mouth away from her neck and captured her mouth with his, slanting it over hers again and again. It was hot and wet and incredible and then he was hard under her. She couldn't resist moving against him. His kisses grew wilder, and he slid one arm under her to wrap around her shoulder and pull her against him. He slid a hand under her jumper, pulling her bra over her breast. He tugged the jumper up, and without warning pulled his mouth away and took her nipple into his mouth. She moaned loudly. He was worrying her nipple into a peak against his tongue, and pulling her hips against him with his free hand.
Then the wonderful feelings stopped and her nipple was cold where the air met his saliva.
“Katie, get off,” Marcus whispered.
Feeling foolish, Katie pulled her bra and jumper back down and slid off his lap. Marcus stood quickly and before she had time to wonder if he was leaving or about to laugh at her she was being pushed into the chair and her trousers eased off her hips and thrown in a heap across the room
“Wha-”
“Shh,” he whispered. He nudged her knees and she parted them shyly. He pulled her legs so that she was seated on the very edge of her favorite chair, and then buried his face between her legs, smelling the musk of her. Shocked and embarrassed, she tried to shove him away, but he was having none of it. He pulled back slightly and parted her labia, then licked a stripe straight up to her clit. She squirmed, but he continued licking and sucking. She felt a finger swirling in the wetness at her entrance, and wanted to feel it inside her. She bucked against it, against his tongue, and he slid his finger slowly inside. She moaned as his finger was fully sheathed.
“Katie, you feel incredible,” he whispered against her, not even coming up for air as he returned his attentions to her clit, sliding his finger in and out. She was breathing heavily, trying not to move too much. Marcus withdrew to add a second finger, and slid them both inside her.
“Marcus,” she moaned, shifting restlessly against his tongue.
He pulled back, breathing heavily, and she wanted to scream in frustration.
“Hold yourself open for me,” he said, and she moved a shaking hand down to replace his.
He leaned back in eagerly, and she heard his zip being lowered. He groaned in relief and she felt herself grow wetter. She was sitting in her favorite chair, and Marcus Flint was jerking off while he went down on her. It was absolutely beyond belief. His fingers were flying inside her now, fucking her in earnest, and she was moaning and writhing against his face as his tongue flitted against her, alternately strong and delicate. She couldn't stop moving even if she'd wanted to. All that mattered was the incredible things he was doing and the heat building in her belly. Her thighs were trembling and she threaded her free hand through his hair to keep him in place. “Don't stop,” she whimpered. “Please, please don't stop.”
Marcus groaned between her thighs and she was shaky and pleading with want and need and the heat pooling inside her and she was riding his face and all of a sudden she was coming with a gasp, coming right on his face, coming harder than she'd ever come in her life.
Marcus stood up, face glistening, and kissed her hard. She tasted herself on his tongue and sucked it into her mouth. He pulled back, panting. His cock was still hard, and bobbing before her.
“Do you want to touch me, Katie?” he asked her breathlessly. Biting her lip, she reached out and grasped his cock in her hand. Marcus moaned, and wrapped his fingers around hers, guiding her hand up and down, up and down. With just a few short strokes, he moaned again and spurted over their joined fingers.
Panting, he stared at her for a moment, then grabbed his wand and cleaned up their hands, tucking his cock back into his trousers.
“Was it better than the daydream, Katie?”
Nodding shyly at him, she took his hand and led him to bedroom, where Mittens glared at them and jumped off the bed.
“Stay the night?” she whispered.
As he climbed in beside her, she thought she might not kill Angelina after all.