RP: Saturday in the Park

[shh_fleur]

Date: 16 June 2005
Characters: Fleur Delacour, Oliver Wood, Napoleon
Location: A Park in Exeter
Status: Private
Summary: Fleur and Oliver enjoy the day together.
Completion: Complete

A walk in the park. He had taken her on a simple walk in the park. At the end of the walk they unpacked the take away lunch they had purchased at the coffee shop and had a

Comments

[shh_oliver]

Oliver had a rough week. He lost and found Alicia, discovered that the World Cup was being moved up from Katie which changed all the carefully laid out plans that he and Alicia had worked on for months. He also made a new friend in Su and deepened a friendship with Dennis along with talking with his mother and finding out much about himself from her.

But now, he was with Fleur and lying in her lap, staring into the liquid pools of her aqua colored eyes made it worth the stress and pain he'd encountered this week. He hadn't really had time to plan their date and at the last moment he'd thought that simplicity would be the best choice, so a park, a picnic basket and a pain in the arse dog became their outing.

Oliver felt better about their burgeoning relatonship than he had been at any time since he'd first met Fleur. He was ready to take a step and when his warm gaze captured hers after she spoke of coffee breath, he grinned but he could feel the raw need in the pit of his stomach and he suddenly wanted her in some fashion.

He curved his hand around her neck and pulled her mouth down to his. At the press of their lips together, a tenuous tremor coursed through his body, the faint signs of his need beginning to build within him as his tongue teased against the bow of her upper lip. He moved his hand to tangle in her hair, his mind's eye imaginging the capture of his fingers by her blonde tresses, the last rays of the waning sun causing her pale gold hair to shimmer in its radiance.

He deepened their kiss, entrance asked for and recieved as she parted her lips in invitation and his tongue swept against hers, the slow dance causing him to moan softly as he pulled her even closer.

[shh_fleur]

Fleur's hair spilled forward, framing Oliver's face in a curtain beneath her. His insistent hands pulled her ever-closer to him and she responded in kind, opening up to him and covering him. The warmth of his mouth drew her in and her breath caught as his tongue teased her further along. She wanted more, closer, and with a subtle lift she held the back of his head so she could slip her legs from beneath him so she would be able to lie beside him on the blanket.

She stretched out beside him and watched him through her lashes, the way he studied her, as if were he to look away he would miss some terribly important detail about her. When she brought her leg to lie across his and she shifted her weight so that she could rest halfway atop him she could feel a rumbling sigh in his chest.

It was at that point she decided to not kiss him on the mouth and instead trace a slow path to the corner of his lips, to his earlobe with a tiny nip, then up to his temple with a nuzzle into his hairline and a whisper of naughtiness and his name in his ear.

“Oli-vair,” she sighed as her warm breath shielded the shell of his ear, her arms and legs now tangled in his.

[shh_oliver]

Oliver's breathing grew jagged as she trailed her lips along his jawline, his entire being focused upon the sensation until she bit his earlobe. His mouth was parched at the loss of her kiss, his heart hammered in his chest, blood pulsing through his veins when she whispered his name in an oh so seductive manner. Her voice was full of passion, pleasure, promise of what was to come.

He turned his head, slanting his lips toward hers, a fierce, marauding kiss that left no doubt of what he wanted. He pulled her closer, his mind blanking, oblivious to the fact that they were in the middle of a park as his hands started to roam her body. He traced the swell of her breasts, Oliver's mind imagining his palms filled as his thumbs fanned over her peaked nipples. He dropped his hands away to find the curve of her belly before he slid his fingers around her lower back.

Oliver dragged his lips away from hers as he heard a child's laughter near by. His heated gaze lingered upon Fleur, noticing the flush of her cheeks, her kiss swollen lips, the molten lust darkening her eyes. His hand rose to touch her jawline, his finger grazing reverently along her flawless skin. He wanted her, the fire inside of him raging and he knew only she could quell the need.

He took a deep breath, knowing though that this was not the time or the place...but that it would be soon. His finger brushed against the seam of her lips as he smiled. "Thanks for dessert."

[shh_fleur]

A fierce possessiveness took Fleur and she wanted, she desired, she burned. She was very accustomed to getting exactly what she wanted, exactly when she wanted it and she wanted Oliver Wood, and wanted him badly, with a near violent selfishness. She wondered if he could see it in her eyes, feel it radiating from her body.

Long nights alone...she wanted them to end.

"Zis is not dessert, Oli-vair," she rasped, "Zis is an apéritif." She touched her nose to his, a gesture she did whenever they were close like this. Her eyes fell to his lips and with curiosity and longing she touched the bow of them, tracing their edge languidly. "Your lips," she whispered as she focused on the pink flesh of his mouth, "Do you know what ze thought of your lips does to me? I could be crossing a road or reading a book and I close my eyes and see zem, your lips, zese lips. Do not move; stay completely still."

And so it was that she began to retrace the line of his lips, this time with the tip of her tongue, pulling back when and if he pursued her mouth. She used her lips, her tongue, her teeth...to tease his mouth into a desperate smile before she pulled away, only to briefly focus on his eyes before moving to his ear with a warm breath.

"What is your 'eart's desire, Oli-vair Wood?" she whispered.

[shh_oliver]

His first impulse was to tell her he wanted to apparate back to her flat and see where the night took them. They'd been perilously close already but he wanted to make sure that this wasn't going to be a one off and then nothing else. But he couldn't back away from her, the raw lust too great and the fire that was now coiled in his stomach too evident.

He angled his mouth until his lips touched the point where her jawline ended. He ghosted a kiss against her skin before he murmured. "Now, I want your throat, to suckle, to bite, to make you mine." His teeth raked down to find the column of her throat, the taste intoxicating. He nipped her softly, his teeth leaving a slight indentation and his mind screamed for him to truly mark her as his. His lips pursed and he pressed them against the spot where he'd bit her. He sighed against her skin. "Later, my heart desires all of you." His hand reached up to tangle in her hair, his desire filling him, making him reckless. He pulled her head back to bare her throat. "You want it too. Your words, the way your breath hitches when I touch you, how your lips tremble when we kiss. You want it too, Fleur."

Oliver's lips found the pulsepoint on her throat and he began to suckle against her flesh before he felt something bounce off his arse. He pulled away and said, "What the hell was that?"

His eyes focused and he noticed a black and white ball rolling near them before a voice called out. "Mister, pretty lady, can we have our ball back?"

[shh_fleur]

"Perhaps we should stop," Fleur sighed and rolled away from Oliver. She took a deep breath and sat up to straighten her skirt, which had gathered and bunched during the time she and Oliver were kissing. Napoleon had taken a ridiculous guard dog stance, better suited for a Doberman Pinscher, at the sudden intrusion of the ball onto their blanket. She reached over and grabbed the ball. Napoleon watched the proceedings intently.

"Zis?" Fleur held the ball up as a young boy of no more than eleven or twelve jogged up to her and Oliver, "Zis is yours?"

The boy stopped suddenly and nodded. Napoleon's eyes were glued to the ball. In his concentration he had stopped panting.

"And you want it back?" she asked with a smile. The boy nodded again before Fleur quickly tossed the ball through the air toward him. Napoleon shot off like a well-cast hex in pursuit of the boy and the ball. When Fleur called out for the dog to come back, he did not, only kept running after the boy.

"OH MON DIEU!" Fleur screeched, jumping up and looking down at Oliver, "Napoleon, he is running away!" Then Fleur ran off too.

[shh_oliver]

Oliver was trying to calm down after he and Fleur's snogging session although he couldn't really call it just snogging since he'd never experienced kissing like that. She made him burn. There was no other way to describe how the press of her lips seemed to singe him every time. He'd never felt this way before and while he'd brushed up on the Veela myths, he knew deep down this had nothing to do with some unnatural allure. He craved the woman that was Fleur Delacour.

He heard Fleur speaking and turned over to gaze lazily at a boy before he looked at the ball. He realized it was a football and wondered where the boy was playing. He had watched the game and even played it a few times although he was horrible. But he liked the ball movement and the strategy fascinated him.

Oliver was about to make a comment to Fleur about kicking the ball rather than throwing it when he saw the ball leave her hand and the next thing he knew, her dog was shooting out after it. Fleur jumped up, urging Oliver to stand and give chase despite his obvious issue. Still he smiled and stood, adjusting himself quickly before he ran after Fleur.

[shh_fleur]

"Svp hâte!" (Please hurry!) she begged as she gestured wildly, "He is going to run into ze road, I just know it!" She watched in mild amusement as Oliver fidgeted to get himself comfortable and 'camouflaged' from innocent bystanders before she grabbed his hand and took off running after Napoleon, who had taken off after the football. "Je suis désolé," (I am sorry.) she told Oliver with a laugh when she thought of the discomfort in which he must have been.

But by the time they caught up with the willful dog, Napoleon was alternately nudging the ball (which was half his size) at a full run in the center of a makeshift playing field and drooling on it as if her were very much in love with it. She and Oliver quickly arrived on the scene to rescue him, although Fleur discovered that Napoleon was not in need of saving.

"At least he is not trying to fuck it," she murmured into Oliver's shoulder as they joined the small group of young people who had been playing before their ball had been molested.

Fleur spoke too soon...

[shh_oliver]

Oliver was going as fast as he could given the condition he was in before the football had hit his arse. Still, he tried to keep his tone cheery when he answered, "Coming right along, Fleur love." He shook out his leg before he took her hand. He turned to her and smiled as they ran. "Maybe a leash might be a good idea or he could stay at home like other dogs do on dates."

When they finally found Napoleon, he was dashing to and fro nudging the ball with his nose. He was impressed by the little dog's athletic skills and begrudgingly acknowleded the fact to Fleur as he leaned into her ear and kissed the shell before he said. "I think that you may have a little star out there."

He could have stood there all day with Fleur watching her dog's antics even as a group of kids started to gather around. They all looked to be between the ages of ten and fourteen although there was one curly haired girl who must have been younger than Ilana. But he lost himself in the moment and after brushing his thumb over Fleur's knuckles, he wrapped one arm around her lower waist and pulled her close.

"Right, I think it's time to get it back." Oliver winced after when Napoleon started to hump the football. He walked over and when he was close to the dog, he kicked the ball away from him before he dribbled it to keep it from the now attacking beast. He looked over at Fleur and grinned. "You may have two stars."

He looked back at the ball as he juked Napoleon and didn't pay much attention the laughter and screams approaching him.

Oliver saw a foot between his legs from behind him and the ball was poked away before the foot hooked his ankle and he felt the ground colliding with his backside. The whoosh of air leaving his lungs startled him but when he looked over and saw a young boy with dreads standing up and grinning at him before he took the ball. "Sorry Mister, it was a bad slide tackle."

Oliver laughed back at him. "Why, you..." He glanced over at Napoleon as he stood up and said, "Let's get him."

[shh_fleur]

Fleur was mortified by Napoleon's actions, especially when the gathered group expressed their collective amusement at the dog's actions. Thankfully Oliver got the ball away from the dog somehow (Fleur had turned away from the embarrassment by this time) and then landed on his backside when one of the young boys slid into Oliver to kick the ball away.

Now that was funny...even funnier than Jerry Lewis.

She jogged over to where Oliver lay in a heap and gave him an I-told-you-so look before she suddenly found herself down on the ground beside him after being undercut by an over-anxious Napoleon. She desperately grabbed at the hem of her flowing skirt to keep it from flying up and showing the world her pink knickers. Before she could gather herself Oliver was up and he and the dog were in pursuit of the playing children.

She rolled onto her stomach and propped her elbows in the grass to watch the retreating group, all in chase of the ball.

But the massive withdrawal did not get far...before maneuvering to switch directions and move straight toward her.

[shh_oliver]

Oliver looked back at Fleur after he stood up and asked excitedly, "Are you coming or do Napoleon and I have to take them all on?"

The dog jumped on his leg when he heard his name and when he spotted the ball, he gave an odd grunt and took off.

Fleur was just laying there in the grass and Oliver was bouncing like a little child who had to pee. She looked beautiful and memories of what they shared a few moments ago started to make his blood boil. But she wasn't even looking at him and he saw her blue eyes drift past him to watch the impromtu football match. He finally waved his hand at her and grinned. "If you're just going to lay there, you can at least cheer for me."

He turned and noticed that the boiling mass of children seemed to be running back at them. He then saw the two cups lying out and knew instinctively it was a football goal. He ran over and situated himself between the cups before he yelled at the kids. "Oi, I'm the Keeper!!"

[shh_fleur]

"Goal keeper it is, then!" one of the older boys shouted. Fleur thought if she stayed in her present position in the middle of the field there would be a good chance that she would be trampled. She could hear Napoleon growling excitedly at the football as he dashed back and forth with the young people. Oliver was long gone in a run for some spot toward one side and Fleur did not know what was happening in the game at all. She knew the basics of Quidditch but was clueless when it came to Muggle sports. So she got up before she could be stepped on and jogged over to Oliver.

"So you know zis game?" she asked. "And you intend to keep ze children from kicking ze ball into here?" She gestured toward the two plastic cups on the ground. "Zat does not seem very nice, well, zey are only children! You should let zem score." She walked up to him and looked down the make-shift field while she stood next to him. "I know!" she barked, "I can be on zeir side and distract you! Zat way zey can beat you!" She turned and immediately poked Oliver in the ribs and tickled him before jumping on his back and wrapping herself around him from behind, one arm firmly around his shoulder and chest as she tucked her skirt down so it would not fly up about her bottom. She locked her ankles around his waist, her feet at his navel. One of her sandals slipped off and fell to the ground.

When everything calmed down and she was still piggy-back on him she nestled her chin and face against his shoulder and ear. "Let zem score and I will let you win later," she said huskily, "When we are all alone."

[shh_oliver]

Oliver thought that the woman was exasperating and had no idea that he really couldn't be a Keeper if she was draped all over him. It wasn't that Fleur was heavy, in fact, he could barely feel her but the fact that her breasts were pressed on his back and her breath was warm on his ear as she spoke in that sultry French voice that seemed to make him forget everything around him and just want nothing more than to devour her with a kiss.

He wrapped his arms around her upper thighs and protested. "Bloody Hell woman, don't you understand sports at all?" He spun her around twice while laughing before he said, "I'm planning on winning anyway." He craned his neck to look at her and frowned when he was unsuccessful. He finally lifted one hand away from her thigh and brought it up to take her hand and bring it to his lips before he murmured. "You know, if you hugged me, I'd be kissing you for real right now."

"MISTER!" Oliver heard a scream and lifted his head to see the boy with the dreadlocks yelling at him while a black and white blur flashed toward him as a black furball chased it. He watched in morbid fascination as the seemingly carefully aimed ball took a beeline straight for his groin.

As he fell to his knees and released Fleur, the thought that played in his mind before a wave of agony rolled over him was that he didn't know what had hurt worse, Flint's bludger to the head or the black and white blur to the crotch.

[shh_fleur]

Fleur shrieked as she was literally flipped off Oliver's back and to the side, once again grabbing her skirt and keeping the colour of her knickers a mystery to everyone on the field. Poor Oliver rolled onto the ground beside her, groaning in pain.

"Oh mon Dieu, oh mon Dieu," she wailed, "Oli-vair, oh, Oli-vair! I am so sorry!" She tried to move toward him and touch his shoulder, try to comfort and help him in some way. "I did not mean for zat to 'appen! Oh mon Dieu, Oli-vair, m'a laissé vous aider!" (Oh my God, Oliver, let me help you!)

She had no idea what to do. It was not like she could kiss it and make it all better, well, at least not in front of all the children. She settled for gently rubbing her hand up and down Oliver's back, that, and fighting not to outright laugh at the situation. She leaned down to speak, to try to at least console him in some way.

"Zis is something zat you and I should put inside a Pensieve, non?" she whispered as she bit her lip to keep herself from giggling.

[shh_oliver]

The French really wasn't helping because Oliver couldn't concentrate on that and the throbbing pain from the one testicle his hand cupping his groin could find. He panicked as he rolled on the grass until number two magically dropped into place and he whispered a silent prayer to the gods of fertility for the bounty that he'd been given when his second testicle finally found its way back home.

Still, her hand on his back was quite nice although she seemed to be causing a certain amount of arousal that was becoming a bit painful. He rolled away, not wanting to tempt fate and have testicle number two run away in fear as his excitement became more evident when he fell under the spell of her touch.

"No laughing. I'm dying here." He said through clenched teeth, knowing that wasn't quite true. He looked at her after she mentioned the Pensieve and muttered. "That would be brilliant. We could show everyone the reason Oliver Wood could never have children."

[shh_fleur]

Fleur really did not know what to do. She felt helpless and guilty about distracting Oliver to the point that he could not react in time to avoid this particular disaster. To top that all off, she got the distinct impression that he was not pleased with her in the least at the moment, which, on the one hand, she could not very well begrudge him, but on the other, it was not like she had been the one to kick the football at his unprotected groin.

"How can I help you?" she pleaded, "And do not tell me zat I have already done enough! Grunt, or something, so I know you are still alive."

Then Napoleon arrived on the scene like Peter Sellers in a Pink Panther film, launching himself directly at the back of Oliver's head and landing with an affectionate nuzzle that only served to injure the poor man further.

"NAPOLEON, OFF! OFF ZIS INSTANT!!!" Fleur shouted at the little dog, who read her mood and backed away from Oliver quietly. She stroked Oliver's hair, trying in vain to comfort him. "I love you, but you cannot keep acting like zis! Yes, cher, listen to me, because I do love you."

She looked down into Oliver's pitiful and confused face.

"I was not talking to you!" she said quickly, "I was talking to ze dog!"