#oliver wood oneshot

[pappydaddy]

the tales of the infatuated (o.w.)

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

tv show/movie: harry potter

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

requested

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

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist | taglist | navigation

-not my gif -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

could you do a oliver wood x fem!reader fic/blurb, and it’s about their first kiss and stuff 💕 and could you possibly make the reader in the year younger? love your writing xx

Hi! Not sure if this is what you had in mind, but thank you for the request! 💕

~

“You enjoy the show?” Oliver smirked as he walked up the stands towards me. He was still in his practice clothes, his hair completely mussed.

I put down the textbook I had been reading and smiled. “Yeah, I particularly loved when you nearly fell off your broom. Great work there.”

Oliver laughed and sat down on the bench below me. “Ah, I figured that would impress you.” He leaned his arms on my knees and gazed up at me with those honey eyes. “Say, are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

“Probably,” I said with a sigh. “But I’ll be on my own. All my girlfriends have dates.” I scrunched my nose.

“And you… don’t?��� Oliver raised an eyebrow at me. “What, all the good fifth-year boys are taken?”

I pinched Oliver’s cheek playfully. “They must all be intimidated by the fact that my best friend is an older guy. A big, strong quidditch player at that.”

A laugh escaped Oliver’s lips as he shoved my hand aside. “Well, I apologize for ruining your love life.” His smile softened. “How can I ever make it up to you?” He feigned thinking for a moment. “Maybe this’ll work.”

Without warning, Oliver leaned up towards me, bringing his lips to mine. Initially, I leaned back, caught off-guard by the suddenness, but his hand reached up and caught the back of my neck, pulling me forward. I sighed against his soft lips, wondering what took us so long to get here.

It definitely felt too soon when Oliver let go. He let out a small laugh and looked up at me bashfully.

“Hope that was okay,” he finally said, running his fingers through his messy hair. “I just…” He shrugged. “Wanted to try it, I guess.”

Color flooded my cheeks as I tried to stop myself from grinning like an idiot. “I, uh…” I bit my lip. “Well if you want to try again, that’s totally fine with me.”

Oliver’s surprised laugh filled the air. “Only if you let me take you out on Saturday. A proper date.”

I leaned forward again. “It’s a deal.”

[dreamcubed]

more than a woman 2 | oliver wood x reader

song; more than a woman [bee gees] pairing; oliver wood x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; established relationship, long distance(ish), fluff, light angst word count; 3,1k timeline; goblet of fire —> order of the phoenix warnings; swearing, relationship insecurities, one argument (gets resolved) summary; you were forced to endure one year of hogwarts without your beloved oliver, so how would that affect your relationship?

masterlist

parts: || one | two ||

“more than a woman to me.”

———————————————

Honestly, it was a good thing that Oliver wasn't at school for the Triwizard Tournament: Merlin knows you wouldn't have heard the end of him complaining about quidditch being cancelled. Still, you missed him, and it was certainly strange not hearing quidditch even mentioned once.

In the one and a half years that you had been together, the marriage joke had persisted, primarily thanks to the relentless Weasley twins. You figured your husband being long distance would be easier to deal with due to the mass amounts of work that NEWTs required. Obviously, you expected yourself to achieve good grades: you weren't a Ravenclaw for nothing. But good grades in the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests were difficult for even the most intelligent of people.

"Poor you," Chloe mocked at dinner during the first week of seventh year, "How will you ever survive without your other half?"

"Fuck off, Smith," you chided, scooping pasta on to your plate, "At least I have another half."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"You seeing him at Christmas?"

"I doubt it," you sighed, "I still want to see my family and his schedule is pretty packed."

"That's what you get for marrying a quidditch athlete."

You didn't bother correcting anyone anymore, and honestly, you didn't want to.

***

A weekly letter via owl was nothing compared to Oliver Wood in the flesh: you felt as if you had been starved all year of the one person you wanted to see the most. If only his quidditch team allowed enough free time for him to visit Hogsmeade so you could meet up, but it didn't, so you had been deprived.

You couldn't help but grow anxious as the Hogwarts Express grew closer to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, even thought Chloe said everything she could to reassure you.

What if he had fallen out of love in your time apart?

What if he wouldn't be excited to see you?

Sure, his letters to you over the last few weeks had contained nothing but enthusiasm over your coming reunion, but you couldn't help but wonder if he was waiting to break it to you in person.

The train came to a halt.

"Y/N, Y/N," Chloe said firmly, "There is no universe in which that man could fall out of love with you. Trust me, you mean more to him than quidditch."

"But, what if-"

"Look, there he is," she cut you off, pointing out the window at the man stood on the platform amongst the parents. One of his hands held a bouquet of fresh red roses, while the other hung at his side with the fingers playing nervously with each other.

Then, his eyes locked with yours, and all your worries melted away as your lips stretched into a massive grin. You ran out of the compartment and began shoving past people to get to the exit, almost barrelling into the conductor as you jumped on to the platform.

Oliver stood watching you with his grin matching yours, already opening his arms in preparation for what was about to happen. You jumped into them, almost knocking him over with the force in which you did it. You kissed him with the same force, like you had wanted to do for the last year so very desperately.

"I've missed you so much, lass," he said through heavy breaths after your kiss ended, "I've been going insane."

"I've missed you too," you replied, tightening your hold around him even more, "Have you gotten stronger?" You felt his bicep.

He gave you another toothy smile, "Aye. Didn't have a choice, the training regime is strict."

"Good to see you back with your husband," you heard Chloe say, and turned to see her pulling along not just her trunk, but yours as well.

"Ah, about that," Oliver said, dropping you from his hold and taking your trunk from Chloe, "It's about time we made it official, don't you think?"

Shock formed on your face.

"Don't look so surprised, lass, I've already waited two and a half years."

"Godric, this is so romantic," Chloe said sarcastically, making you roll your eyes at her. "Seriously, not even a ring."

"Ah ah ah," Oliver smirked, digging around in his pocket before pulling out a black velvet box.

"Get down on one knee in public and I will slaughter you," you quickly said, "Please don't bring attention to us."

He laughed, "Relax, relax, I won't. Here," he opened the box and presented it to you, "Will you officially become my wife, lass?"

You nodded, darting forward to wrap your arms around his chest again. "Of course I will, you stupid fucking quidditch man."

He smiled wider than you knew possible.

***

"This is my- our- flat," he said, presenting the space to you, "Obviously if you don't like it, we can move, but it's where I've been for a year."

"I like it," you said, "Although I want to make it less yours and more ours."

He nodded, "Do whatever you want with it, I'm not home much."

"Will I still not get to see you that often?" you slightly pouted.

Oliver pulled you in for a kiss, "I will be home as much as I can, lass, but professional quidditch is very demanding."

You had known that this was how life with Oliver would be, but it still made you sad.

"We need to tell our parents about the engagement," you changed the subject.

"They've been treating us like we're married for years," he chuckled, "So have our friends."

"Still, we should tell them, your mother hasn't stopped going on about me being her daughter-in-law as soon as possible in all the letters she's sent me."

"You talk to my mum?"

"Yes, Ollie, I talk to your mum. Believe it or not, I want to a foster a good relationship with my future mother-in-law."

"My priorities lie with my future nan-in-law."

"You thirsting over my nan?"

"Perhaps."

You scoffed, "Can't believe I've been replaced by an old hipster."

"Don't talk about Grace like that!"

You both broke out in laughter.

"Godric, I've missed you, lass," he sighed, "Never be away from me for that long again."

"Trust me, I don't plan on it."

***

It was difficult at first, living with Oliver and his jam-packed quidditch schedule, and there were many nights where you ate alone in front of the muggle television you had insisted on installing. But, as time faded away, you got used to it - it wasn't like Oliver was neglecting you, after all. On his days off, mornings off, nights off, etc., he would spend every waking second doting over you. Plus, on his full working days, when he got back so late you were already in bed, you couldn't help but relish in how he snuggled up to you immediately and muttered, "I love you so much," even though he was under the impression you were asleep.

The wedding planning took up a lot of your shared free time, despite the fact you were only planning on a small ceremony in his parents' garden. There were still the caterers, the dress, the suit, the cake, the rings, and so much more to sort out. It was stressful, yet you enjoyed it, as it meant furthering your relationship with Oliver.

You couldn't live without him.

***

You stared at the cold plates of food on the table, the steam that had been billowing off them having long disappeared along with your excitement. A heat retaining spell would have been easy, but for some reason that felt like giving in - to what, you didn't know. Instead, you sat in the corner of the room, on the floor, fiddling with your engagement ring. You wish you could say that you weren't crying.

It's just that - Oliver had promised that he would be home for dinner by six, he had sworn. The clock in the kitchen was ticking past eight and there was still not even a word from him.

Part of you was worried: what it something had happened to him?

Part of you was angry: he couldn't even let you know that he was running late?

Part of you was fed up: you should have expected this outcome.

The door opened, but you didn't look towards the man entering.

"Hey, love, I'm really sorry I'm late."

You didn't reply.

"Love?" he looked around, as he had spoken assuming you were in the main room - which you were, but hidden from his view. Once he walked past the table to head to the bedroom, you appeared in his peripheral, and he then quickly moved towards you.

You refused to look at him.

"Lass, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Why?"

He hummed in confusion.

"Why were you late?"

"Coach changed his mind about the evening off 'cause we have a last-minute practice match this weekend."

"He shouldn't be allowed to do that."

"I know, but-"

"Did all your teammates just accept it? Let it happen?"

"Well, no, I suppose Rodnickel did leave-"

"Why didn't you then?"

Oliver sighed, "Rodnickel had to get home to his two small kids who would've been unsupervised otherwise."

"You had to get home to me." You were aware you were being a bit unreasonable, but you were exhausted.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, "Believe me, I wish coach saw that as a good enough excuse."

You sighed, admitting defeat.

"So, what did my gorgeous fiancée make for dinner?"

"It's cold now," you mumbled.

"Nothing a little magic can't fix," he winked at you, pulling out his wand to cast a reheating spell. Once steam was billowing off the delicacies once more, Oliver breathed in deeply through his nose and exclaimed, "Smells delicious, my love."

He pulled out your chair for you.

Fuck, you couldn't stay mad at him long.

***

In your opinion, the cosy cottage that Oliver had grown up in had been the obvious choice for the wedding location: it provided a beautiful view of the Scottish countryside. Therefore, you found yourself getting ready in the guest bedroom of the house, with your grandmother delicately fixing your hair. Not too long ago, Chloe had left the room after finishing the final touches of your makeup to get dressed herself, and ever since you had been sat in silence with your grandmother.

"Getting cold feet?" she asked, breaking the ten-minute silence.

You shook your head. Not in the slightest.

"I wish I'd been that sure on my wedding day."

You met her eyes through the mirror opposite you.

"But, no, you have no reason to be nervous. Oliver is a fine young man, and he loves you a whole lot."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "It's weird," you finally spoke, "People make out getting married as being such a big deal, but this feels like the most natural thing in the world."

"That's because too many obsess over the rosy idea of getting married and starting a family, without thinking too much about who they're doing that with."

"You think they just settle with the first person who's up for it with them?"

"Yes and no. I do think most spend some time on choice, but at the end of the day, a lot of people jump at the opportunity of marriage when they reach a certain age."

You hummed, "Do you think we're rushing?"

Grace inhaled deeply, leaving a moment of consideration before saying, "No, I don't. You two still wanted each other after living long distance for a year, I think you both know what you're ready for."

Relieved to hear that, you fully grinned, "Thanks, nan," you checked the clock, "The ceremony starts soon, you need to finish getting ready."

"Yes, yes," she dismissed you with a wave of her hand, "I'll see you out there - you look absolutely gorgeous, my love."

You beamed.

***

Rowena, how did Oliver get to be so handsome? You were physically incapable of getting the smile off your face as you raked your eyes over his features: reaching the altar just wouldn't come quick enough.

But eventually you got there.

You passed the bouquet off to Chloe - your maid of honour - before assuming the position opposite Oliver. Briefly, you glanced at the audience of family and friends, and felt nerves ripple within you. They disappeared when your eyes met with your fiancé's, however, and somehow your grin grew even wider.

He looked gorgeous dressed up in the afternoon sun, and he was thinking the exact same about you. It was all you could think about as the wedding officiant began the introductions of the ceremony; you were a nervous wreck thinking about the vows you had so carefully crafted and rehearsed.

Oliver's were to be first.

"As I'm sure you know, quidditch is one of the biggest prides and joys of my life - I don't know who or what I'd be without it. What you may not know is that I'm most grateful to quidditch not for the masses of entertainment it provides me, but for the fact it's how I started talking to you, lass. From the day you insisted on connecting me with one of my role models, I've been undeniably attached to you. I never told you back then, but I think I fell in love with you the moment you first spoke to me - I mean who can blame me? Look at you."

Your heart was racing and you knew you must have looked flustered.

"It wasn't just your appearance, though. Right from the beginning, you've always spoken with such passion, even back when you were shy around me. I know all too well about passion, of course, and I knew it meant that there would never be dull moment around you. And, look, we're three years down the line now, and that prediction is yet to be proved wrong - you're still much more than a woman to me. I can't wait to never prove it wrong during the rest of our lives together. I love you so much, lass, I'm so happy you're now my wife."

The audience applauded his heartfelt words, and as you prepared yourself to say yours, you felt him warmly squeeze your shaking hands.

"Rowena, I- I don't know how to beat that," you began, steadying your voice as you spoke, "You know I had a crush on you long before we even had our first conversation, but I don't think you know how quickly it became love after we did start talking. Merlin knows I wasn't the only one who fancied you, I was far from special in that sense, but I felt special when we played quidditch one-on-one together for the first time. I'd never played it before then, which is surprising to a lot of people, I know, considering who my grandmother is. Truth is, I was always terrified of the sport, yet when it was you asking me I had very little hesitation about throwing my nerves away."

Oliver's face had flushed a light pink.

"And only you can do that to me - make me fearless, that is. Back then it was always more in a 'I can't pass up this opportunity with my crush' kind of way, but nowadays it's more in a 'you give me strength' kind of way, as cheesy as it sounds and as much as I feel weird for saying it. I guess that's what vows are about, though. I love you more than anything, Oliver, I always have and I always will."

As your words finished, the audience began clapping once more.

"So then, do you, Oliver Wood, take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, and promise to care for her, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

He didn't hesitate. "I do."

"And do you, Y/N L/N, take Oliver Wood to be your lawfully wedded husband, and promise to care for him, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do." The words didn't feel real: nothing in that moment did. You were struggling to grasp on to reality as you pushed the rings on to each other's fingers.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Oliver's lips were on yours in milliseconds, the sweet feeling like honey that you were so familiar with encompassing you. His arms tightened around you as the audience stood up and began cheering, filling you with an unmistakable sense of embarrassment.

But, you know what?

It didn't matter, because you were now married to Oliver - officially.

***

The clinking sound of cutlery against glass echoed amongst the tables, bringing everyone's attention to Chloe, who was sat near your side.

"If I may have everyone's attention, please, I'd like to make a toast to the bride and groom."

Eyes stared at her expectantly.

"I've known Y/N since the very first train ride we took to Hogwarts," she began, "Meaning I've had to hear her going on about Oliver a lot longer than the rest of you."

The typical laughs came in response.

"And Godric knows did she use me to get near him all the time - I can't exactly complain though, as she obviously knew what she was doing. Now, I don't know how many of you are familiar with this, but ever since before they were dating, there's been a running joke that they were already married, so, really, today changes nothing."

Again, laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding - it truly is wonderful to get to celebrate my best friend and ex-quidditch captain's happiness, even if it means being forced to watch them kiss. I love you both, and I wish you a great marriage."

The tables boomed with applause as you smiled your thanks at Chloe, truly feeling as if you couldn't get any happier than that moment. You felt Oliver's hand gripping yours from under the table, and so you turned to look at him to see that his gaze was already on you.

"Hi," you said softly.

"Hi," he replied, grinning whilst his eyes flickered to your lips.

"Uh uh, keep it in your pants til tonight, mister."

He sighed dramatically, "You're lucky I love you."

You chuckled, "I think you'll find that you're lucky I love you."

———————————————

parts: || one | two ||

masterlist

written; 28/09/2022 —> 29/10/2022 published; 29/10/2022 edited; —/—/——

taglist; @workinatdapyramid  @iluvweasleys

[captainsophiestark]

Thunderbolts and Lightning

Oliver Wood x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians, part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023 which features a ton of creators and runs all year! Go check it out if you haven’t already!

Fandom: Harry Potter

Prompt: Zeus; the sky, lightning, thunder

Summary: Oliver Wood is *determined* to make it onto a professional Quidditch team. Tryouts are coming up, but without Y/N to pull him back and keep him in the sanity zone, he might not survive long enough to even make it to the pitch.

Word Count: 2,540

Category: Angst, fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed as I sat down at the breakfast table, my eyes only half-open. I didn't want to be awake at all this early, literally as the sun still rose outside the windows, but Oliver, my boyfriend, needed me. He had tryouts for the major professional Quidditch teams in just four days, and he'd been driving himself crazy with stress and preparation as the big day approached.

As I sank into the chair next to him, trying to muster the energy to chat about literally anything other than Quidditch to help take his mind off things, he stood.

I turned, bleary-eyed, to squint up at Oliver in question. He sighed and tangled a hand in the hair at the back of my neck, staring at me fondly before leaning in to place a soft kiss on my lips. Then, he pulled back and stepped a few paces away, and I realized he was wearing his Quidditch clothes.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I've got to go get some more practice hours in," he said. He looked just as tired as I did, and he slouched despite the broom over his shoulder. The prospect of playing Quidditch usually lit him up like a Christmas tree, but not now. "The tryout's only three days away, and I can't waste this opportunity."

"I- Oliver, are you sure?" I asked, trying to gather my thoughts as I struggled to stand up. I was not awake yet. "You've been working yourself ragged lately, maybe you should take a break-"

"I can't afford to take a break. I have to ace this tryout, which means I have to get as much practice as possible before then."

"Okay, but Ollie-"

"I'm alright, love, I promise," he said, pausing long enough to give me a confident (if tired) smile. "I'll see you later tonight. If you're up for it, maybe you could help me practice a little later too. The charmed Quaffles are great, but you're definitely a better Chaser than a charm."

I just stared back at him, my brain still operating a little slowly. He gave me another smile, then raised his wand and swished it confidently through the air. Just like that, he disappeared.

I sighed. The only thing I wanted to do was go back to bed, immediately. But I loved Oliver more than I wanted to go back to sleep. And he may have said he was fine, but I didn't believe him for half a second.

Just like at Hogwarts, I needed to suit up and head to the Quidditch pitch at the crack of dawn. And, just like Hogwarts, I needed to make sure my wonderful, driven, fantastic, and crazy boyfriend didn't completely run himself into the ground in pursuit of his goals.

Suddenly more awake now that I knew Oliver needed me, I rushed to put on my Quidditch robes. I shot a blast of magic back over my shoulder with my wand, quickly brewing a pot of coffee while I changed. I grabbed as much caffeine as I could in a go-mug, then moved to where Oliver stood a few seconds ago and Disapparated to the Quidditch pitch.

I arrived to find dark clouds moving quickly over the pitch, starting to block out the barely-risen sun. Still, my boyfriend hovered between the hoops, bewitched Quaffles flying at his face. He blocked one after the other with no problem, like he always did. He didn't need this practice. He needed to take care of himself. But this was basically the only way he knew how to handle stress.

I sighed, then used my wand to disappear my empty coffee cup before hopping on my broom, pushing off, and taking to the sky.

"Ollie!" I called, waving to him as I got closer to the pack of hovering Quaffles. He looked confused for a second, but then his face lit up when he saw me.

"Y/N! You came!" he cried. I sighed, but smiled at him nonetheless.

"Of course! I'm always here for you, no matter what."

We shared a soft look, and my heart warmed despite the distance between us, the biting wind cutting through my robes, and the tiredness still hovering around me. Then, I grabbed the nearest Quaffle, and we began.

Oliver locked into the zone quickly, and I could see his brain working a mile a minute as I streaked across the field towards him, Quaffle ready to throw. Despite my best efforts, Oliver blocked almost everything that came at him, just like I knew he would. He really didn't need this practice; he was a cinch for the pros.

Still, he wanted to keep working, so I kept flying down the pitch at him. The sky continued to darken around us and the wind picked up, but I didn't say anything until the first few drops of rain started to fall.

"Oliver?" I called, pausing at his end of the pitch after he made another fantastic save. He floated back up to me and tossed me the Quaffle, looking more than ready for the next round, but I didn't budge.

"What's the matter?" he asked. I squinted up at the dark clouds and rain above us, then looked back at Oliver.

"I think it might be time to call it a day," I said. Oliver frowned, looking up at the sky himself for a minute and then shaking his head.

"No, I can't. I need to be able to play in conditions like this, I can't let it beat me." I started to say something in response, but he continued before I could. "If you want to call it a day, though, that's alright. I appreciate all the practice and help you've given me already."

"Honey... don't you think you should take care of yourself? Maybe come in from the cold and rain and give yourself a little rest?"

He waved me off, pulling out his wand to bewitch the Quaffles to fly at him again. "I'm doing fine. What I need is more practice. I'm starting to run out of time before the tryouts, after all."

I frowned, but floated back towards the ground anyway as Oliver resumed his training. I wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up by the fire in sweats with a nice cup of tea, but I couldn't bring myself to leave Oliver. So instead, I settled for huddling under the overhang of some of the stands around the pitch, slightly out of the rain and wind, and watching him.

As time went on, the storm just got worse. I was almost soaked to the bone, so I couldn't imagine how wet and tired Oliver must be getting up there. A bolt of lightning struck in the sky not too far from us, and I decided enough was enough.

I jumped back on my broom and took to the sky, determined to retrieve my boyfriend before he got seriously hurt or ill. I made it about halfway to him, then called over the wind and rain to try to get his attention.

"Ollie! I think you need to come in!"

He looked at me, seeming a little concerned, and then the next thing I knew a bolt of white hot light came streaking out of the sky and made contact with the front end of his broom.

"Oliver!" I screamed, my voice breaking as my boyfriend's broom exploded under him. He sank through the air, going limp and falling off the side, and after a second of panic I raced after him.

By some miracle, I managed to catch him before he hit the ground. He was incredibly heavy, so we half-flew half-fell to the ground, but I managed to keep him from hitting at full speed. As soon as we touched down in the grass, I started to drag him towards the pitch's locker rooms, the nearest possible shelter. Thank God he started to come to as we walked, and although he was more than a little delirious, he stumbled along next to me with an arm across my shoulders and my arm around his waist.

I shoved open the door to the locker rooms and Oliver and I stumbled through, leaving the storm behind us. I helped set him down on the nearest bench, then dropped to my knees in front of him, checking him over as quickly as I could for any sign of injury.

"Oliver? Are you okay?" I breathed, only half expecting an answer. He nodded, slowly, and after another minute or two I came to the conclusion that he was more rattled than actually hurt.

I sighed a massive breath of relief, then stood before collapsing down on the bench next to Oliver. We just sat there for a second, together in total silence, recovering from the shock of the past few minutes. Then, slowly, Oliver reached out and took my hand. He didn't turn to look at me, but he squeezed my hand, then spoke.

"Thank you for saving me," he said. I sighed and squeezed his hand back, closing my eyes for a minute. Then, I turned to face him.

"Oliver. I will always save you if I can. But the next time you decide to go do something insane like this, I might not be around to save you," I said. "I mean... what if I had decided to go back to bed this morning, like I was first planning to? What if you had left before I woke up, and I didn't know you were out here? You could be dead right now, Oliver!"

"I know, Y/N, I know..."

"No, Ollie, I don't think you do." I paused and took a deep breath, then took Oliver's hands again and faced him a little better on the bench. He met my eyes, and it gave me a warm feeling in my chest. "Oliver, you are so driven and determined. You've been working for this for your entire life, and it's wonderful to see how hard you're working for that goal. But you can't keep completely sacrificing and disregarding your own health and wellbeing for stuff like this. You just can't."

He sighed heavily, dropping his head a bit to stare at the floor. We stayed like that in silence for a few beats, and I let my words settle. Then, finally, he looked back up at me.

"You're right, I suppose," he said. "But I just... I can't make myself stop. Like you said, I've been working for this my entire life. For the most part, this has been my life. Quidditch, and almost nothing else. I... I'm terrified, Y/N, that after all the work I put in, all the time I dedicated... it's all going to be for nothing. If I fail this tryout, it all goes to waste, and I stop being able to do the thing I love."

"Oh, Oliver," I sighed, rubbing my hand up and down his arm to try to offer him some kind of comfort. I leaned into him, then continued. "I know it's probably not going to make you feel much better now, but this one single tryout is anything but the end for you."

He scoffed, clearly not believing my words, but I didn't let that deter me.

"First of all, there are plenty of players who didn't do well on their first tryout and had to come back and try it again," I said. "Some of your favorite players in fact, if memory serves."

Oliver hummed, giving me a little bit of acknowledgement, which I took as a good sign.

"And besides that, even if, for whatever reason, you don't make a professional team, that doesn't have to be the end-all be-all for doing what you love. You can always play for fun, or somewhere else without necessarily being on one of the fancy professional teams. You could even coach! But either way, there's plenty of ways for you to continue doing what you love, no matter the results of this tryout."

Oliver hummed as I leaned into him and continued.

"Besides, you don't need to worry anyway. You're the best damn Quidditch player I've ever seen, and I went to the Scotland vs Canada World Cup a few years ago."

Oliver huffed a laugh, but the small smile stayed on his face. He seemed to be feeling a little cheerier, thankfully, since he'd been in a very bad place almost all day. I gave him a second, resting my head on his shoulder as I could hear the storm quieting outside, before I played my last card to finish making my case.

"Not to mention, Oliver, that you can't play Quidditch if you're dead thanks to a lightning strike after insisting on practicing in insane weather like this."

He took a deep breath in, and I leaned back to look at him as he let the breath out in a long, long sigh. Finally, after a second, he turned to me.

"You're not wrong," he sighed, giving my hand a light squeeze. I met his warm brown eyes as he continued. "I don't want to have to resort to any other opportunities, but if I get struck by lightning, that's going to hurt my chances at these tryouts more than anything else could."

He hesitated, glancing briefly at the ground, and then he met my eyes again, his attention more focused on me than it had been in any of the Quidditch craziness so far.

"Thank you, Y/N. For taking care of me. Especially when I'm so bad at taking care of myself."

I gave him a soft smile, happy to be here with him, especially after watching him literally get blown out of the sky.

"I'll always watch out for you, Ollie. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N."

I leaned in at the same time as him, sharing a soft, lingering kiss before pulling apart. After a second, he sighed, then stood up from the bench.

"It doesn't look like the weather's going to be good enough for practice any time soon," he announced. "So, what do you say we go home and rest by the fire instead?"

"Oliver, I can't think of anything I'd want more," I said with a smile as I stood to join him. He met my smile with a tired one of his own, then took my hand before gathering up both of our brooms.

"Would you do the honors?" he asked. I nodded.

"I'll even make the tea, if you're willing to start the fire."

"You have a deal," he said. We shared another calm, comfortable smile, and then I raised my wand and disapparated both of us back to our cozy, wonderful apartment. As promised, Oliver went to put our brooms away before going to start the fire as I got tea started on the stove. Before today, I honestly couldn't have imagined Oliver willingly taking a break from Quidditch to relax with me at home. And although it would probably still be a fairly rare occurrence, after today it seemed far less than completely impossible.

Nothing like a near-death experience to completely change someone's life view, I suppose.

****************

Harry Potter Taglist: @valkyriepirate​

[moony-mccall]

delicate | oliver wood

a/n — well, w first actual writing post so, may be bad but who cares!

a cute drabble filled with fluff, tension, longing stares, and amateur writing!

summary — lingering stares and vexed minds concerning each other.

pairings — oliver wood x reader

( no pronouns used i think, just the use of 'you' )

warnings — none but my writing

there was just something between you two that no one else can ever have. not that either of you was going to let it go.

it was delicate, intense, and oh so pure.

proved it so by the entirety of your relationship.

even before you two even happened, there was always something that vexed the two of you trying to figure it out.

infuriated by this feeling but will not even attempt to take it away. in fact, both of you craved it.

it was between you two.

yours and yours only.

oliver wood. one of gryffindors golden boys and of course his most prided title in his early career, his house's quidditch captain.

women and men threw themselves at him but it seemed that his only priority was quidditch. always quidditch. until you that is.

you. one of your house's pride and joy, you and oliver were alike that way too. you had your own life at hogwarts that you succeeded at.

of course mcgonagall had her very own organization filled with carefully selected students and staff.

it just so happened that your little delicate tale with oliver started there.

gazes meet and the painfully exciting feelings start as minerva mcgonagall and aurora sinistra share their very own knowing looks.

it bothered you both so much.

and you and oliver loved it.

he'd look for you in every game, in every class, in every soiree and you'd do the same.

the whole thing made you both dizzy and giddy. you'd share teasing looks and shit eating grins or just genuine smiles.

he'd catch your eye or you'd catch his, it didn't matter, they wouldn't leave each other anyways.

you two had yet to talk. it was all longing stares at first as if to test waters. It was enough for now nonetheless.

the next celebration mcgonagall held started the playful conversations.

"couldn't hold it for longer" he let out a defeated sigh before grinning. "oliver wood"

that damned gaze of yours. the one that you always wore whenever you're looking at him.

the playfulness, intensity, the passion of it all —godric, he could burst.

he never looked for your name before, he wanted you to tell him yourself and you did.

he swore he could die happy now.

"couldn't hold what longer, mr. wood?" you feigned innocence as you held his gaze.

he simply laughed and you followed after a few seconds before starting your talk that was long overdue.

at first, both of you were sure this was only a silly crush on each other. it'll pass. it should! it was tampering with your plans after all.

but then you talked and it felt just like one big whirlwind that either of you were too late to step out of now.

the most interesting part is the relief both of you felt. the fear of the thought you two had to move on from each other. it was ridiculous.

both have to live with that irking feeling now. and will happily do so.

the little talks turned into little dates that the two of you refused to call that.

you were an early bird much like oliver now, either you turned into that because of him or not didn't matter.

you spent your mornings and sometimes nights together before you two go your separate ways blushing messes.

finally, he took a chance to confirm the name of the vexing feeling.

yes, yes, both agreed to live with it happily, but someone had to do it.

he wanted to. but you already knew what it was.

he did too but he wanted to act on it.

he kissed you.

and you kissed back.

[kaydincenerd]

Practice can wait

Oliver wood x y/n fluff one shot

warnings none

Y/n couldn’t fall back asleep after waking up at 3 in the morning but she didn’t know what else to do so after a couple minutes she walked to the kitchens. To make something for breakfast maybe muffins

ah peace and quiet she whispered as she walked inside. That’s when she started to bake she layed the ingredients out and started to make muffins. She started to shuffle a playlist as she danced around in the kitchen till.

Y/n what are you doing awake. That’s when she turned around and saw Oliver wood as she thought she looked weird she just shyly smiled. Just baking muffins I guess. He smiled too seeing her just dance to harry styles in a messy bun with her hands covered in flour. Sounds fun I’m getting a snack and heading to practice he spoke sweetly. Ugh four am practice sucks sorry. It’s all good what muffins are you making. Blueberry want some.

He thought for a second go to practice with a empty stomach or hangout with the girl he liked and have muffins. Sure he spoke as he sat down and watched her finish up and put them in the oven.

Why do you bake the muggle way becuse the muggle way makes them have more value cause I wasn’t lazy and just did a couple spells. After that golden hour started to play and y/n started to dance around again till Oliver stood up and came beside her.

may I he whispered she nodded her head as he took her hands and started to dance in that kitchen at 4in the morning

[heliads]

Hiiiiiii! I was hoping you could maybe do an Oliver Wood x reader where Oliver’s just graduated Hogwarts, and he’s starting out as a player on Puddlemere United, and like, the reader is an up and rising star player for an opposing team (maybe Bulgaria?)? And like, in canon he’s a reserve, but like here during a match between those two teams, he’s gonna go ahead and play on the team because reasons that make it so the team needs his reserve arse - and like, he’s a keeper, and reader’s either a chaser or a seeker, and as they whiz past each other every once in a while, there’s some fun snarky banter? And at the end of one match (which is like a couple of matches after they first meet) Oliver asks reader if they can hang out sometimes? Thank you!

omg oliver wood!! i was HOPING someone would request for him

masterlist

No place on Earth, or perhaps even the worlds surrounding it, has ever been half so emotionally charged as that of broom checks before a professional Quidditch match. Every object used for flying purposes, as specified by the latest rule book, must be measured and monitored for the slightest discrepancy. Entire wars have been waged over a single twig out of place, and you can’t afford to have a single slipup, not today.

Today, after all, is the most important day of your life. Previously, that title went to the last Quidditch game, then the last, then the last. Every game knocks the previous out of the water (or should you say the sky?) and you refuse to have room for error. You’re damned important, that’s why. A million eyes rest on your shoulders, and you know the exact reason.

As the Seeker for the Bulgarian professional Quidditch team, you’ve got the wizarding world watching your back. You have places to be, and they’re all out there on the pitch. All it takes is a couple more minutes for the scholars and referees to finish checking out your broom, and then you’ll be able to return to your team’s encampment. Merlin knows your team captain is probably already pacing, mapping out every minute until the game starts and you face your opponents.

Speaking of your opponents, for the most part, they’re already here with you. It’s a British team you’re facing today, Puddlemere United. Supposedly, they’re the oldest team in the league, which means that they’ve got twice the legacy to uphold. You do intend to beat them today, so you can’t wait to see the looks on their diehard fans’ faces when they have twice the explaining to do.

One of them approaches you now, the reserve keeper. You’ve been hearing about this kid ever since he graduated from Hogwarts before you graduated from Durmstrang, making him a year or two older than you. He’s supposed to have his arse on the bench for a while longer, but Puddlemere’s primary keeper got in some drunken accident last night and he’s buried so deep in red tape that the other guy may not resurface for years.

All that means is that you’ll be meeting him on the Quidditch pitch today, this Oliver Wood. You hate to give a single compliment to your opponents, but you can’t deny that he’s kind of cute, in a total enemy sort of way. He walks casually through the throngs of glaring fans as if he’s never seen a single frown that could ever bother him. You’ve heard rumors of the hurdles he forced his Hogwarts team through, so that could be true.

Oliver comes to a stop near you, eyebrow raised as he takes in your forced casual stance. Your arms are folded across your chest, back leaning up against the counter while you wait for the officials to finish checking your broom. 

“Game face on even now, huh? I wasn’t sure whether or not to believe the rumors about the Bulgarians, but I think they’re true.”

The corner of your mouth twitches upwards; whether that’s in a snarl of teeth or a grin, you have yet to decide. “What rumors? That we’re all dreadful monsters?”

You open your eyes a little wider as you say the last bit, and this time Oliver really does smile. “Obviously those must be the truest. Do you have claws and fangs, too?”

You chuckle without meaning to do so. “Just as much as you do. Are all Brits incapable of minding their own business, or is that just you?”

You have to give Oliver credit, he scarcely bats an eye at your sharp words. Then again, you’re not entirely sure that you meant them.

“Just me, I’m afraid,” he says through a smile as bright as the sunshine outside, “I’m fascinated to hear whether you believe you’re actually going to win this match or you’re suffering from serious hallucinations.”

You straighten up, feigning incredulity. “Serious hallucinations? Oh, you are trouble.”

Oliver takes a step closer, and both of you pretend you aren’t leaning towards each other, desperate to get the better word. “Trouble? Is that better or worse for my odds?”

You cock your head to the side. “Odds for what?”

His teeth flash as he grins. “Distracting you. It’s my greatest strength.”

Your brow furrows in confusion, and after glancing around to figure out what he’s talking about, you realize that your broom has been idling on the counter for a minute or so. Looks like you were a little too interested in your opponent. Your captain will have your head for that, but then again, he doesn’t have to know.

You grab your broom, toss a wink Oliver’s way, and whisper one last thing before you sweep from the room: “I’m only distracted off the pitch, love. Promise I’ll catch the Snitch before you know a thing.”

The last sight you have before the tent flap of the equipment stand closes behind you is that of Oliver staring after you, scarcely even bothering to hide his smile. Maybe you’ll have fun with this match after all.

It certainly seems that way. After a nerve wracking prep session led by your team captain, Bulgaria takes to the skies about an hour later. Everywhere you look, you see the snapping of red and white flags, the cheering of watchers who raise their fists as they see you swoop about. You’re the fastest the world has ever seen, the fan favorite by a long shot. You’re Y/N L/N, goddamnit, and out here that means everything.

Right now, though, you can’t think about any of that. You are here for one thing and one thing only: finding the Golden Snitch. You’ll have your time to bask in the spotlight later. You swoop and dive, chasing an impossibly small speck of metallic shine in the midst of this massive field. It should be an inconceivably difficult task, and maybe it would be for anyone who isn’t you.

You see it after a second, hovering around the center of the pitch. You pull yourself into a steep dive a moment later, measuring how far you’re dropping by the beats of your heart and the shouts of the announcer. It hovers just out of reach, teasing you by touching the tips of your fingers and then shooting away again just as you thrust your hand forward. You pursue it for a couple more yards, and then the Snitch decides it’s had its fun and vanishes again.

Swearing, you pull up, hurtling as fast as you can towards the sky. You’re a Bellerophon up in the sky, and maybe gravity will arrive to force you back down to the land of the mortals, but for now, you’re godly, you’re free. Nothing can touch you up here.

You come to a stop, and realize that you’ve drifted towards the Puddlemere hoops. A voice shouts from beside you, and you look over to notice Oliver Wood addressing you from atop his own broom.

“Couldn’t stay away from me for too long, could you? I told you I was a fantastic distraction.”

You laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “That was an accident, I swear. Honestly, I forgot you existed the second you left my field of vision.”

You’re smiling too hard for that to be true, though, and Oliver can tell. “Sure thing. Oh, can you do me a favor and move a little to the right?”

Confused, you do, and seconds later, the Quaffle punches through the sky a mere hair’s breadth from where you were only moments ago. Oliver deflects it away from his goal hoops with ease, and a squad of Chasers appears to follow it back down to earth.

You shoot a glance back towards Oliver, unable to hide your relief. “Thanks for the save.”

He grins back at you, easy as ever. “Hey, I’d never mess up a face as pretty as yours. That’s a promise.”

You chuckle, especially so when the Puddlemere United captain flies up to admonish Oliver about staying on track and not flirting with enemy Seekers. His cheeks turn a slight pink, although that could just be the wind whipping at him. You’re certainly up high enough that it’s heating up your face, too. That’s the only reason that could possibly happen.

Despite the warning, Oliver is definitely directing most of his attention towards you. You’re not innocent of getting distracted either, because you’ve spent a little too much time up here. You do have a job, after all, and that’s not making eyes at cute Keepers, as much as you’d like it to be otherwise.

So, you flash a mock salute at Oliver before dipping back down to land, keeping the image of his bright eyes tucked away in the corner of your mind as you search. You find the Snitch again about ten minutes later, and this time, it doesn’t escape you. Bulgaria wins, thank Merlin, and you’re able to descend to land in a flood of cheers from friends and teammates alike.

Despite the thrill of the victory, though, some small portion of your consciousness is still focused on the opposing team, or one player in particular. You’re not able to see Oliver after that, other than the dutiful handshake. If he holds your hand a little longer than normal during that sacred ritual, well, who would know but the two of you?

You can’t deny the fact that you’re sort of sad to see Oliver go after the end of the match. It’s rare that you find another Quidditch player who thinks so much like you do, who laughs at the same things and doesn’t seem to see the team rivalries as something to keep him from you. Both of you are in the wizarding spotlight often enough that any interaction between the two of you would be overanalyzed for years onwards, but you kind of want to give the rumor mills something to talk about anyway.

Luckily for your heart and perhaps even your head, you end up seeing Oliver about a month later, in yet another match. This time, you do go looking for him, even if you’ll completely pretend otherwise when he catches you snooping past the British tents. Of course, to properly tease you, he’d have to explain why he was coming from the direction of the Bulgarian side, and neither of you will fully own up to that.

It takes two more matches before the two of you can gather up your confidence enough to do something. It’s funny, despite the fact that you and Oliver trade comebacks and flirtatious comments like playing cards every second you’re in the air, the second you’re back on land, all of your supposed confidence fades in a flash.

It’s like you’re back to being a student, how he leaves you guessing over every turn of phrase. Maybe you like how it feels, how he makes you doubt yourself more than even the toughest of games. So, when your fourth match against Puddlemere comes to an end and Oliver asks if you want to go out sometime, you say yes without a second’s hesitation. You like him, plain and simple, and you couldn’t be happier that he likes you.

So, looking at him in a dimly lit bar, you decide then and there that Oliver Wood could possibly be your greatest victory. Forget the medals and accolades, the international praise and countless think pieces about your best saves. Right here, right now, you’d trade a thousand perfect catches just to make sure you could keep this moment right here.

Oliver’s hand is on yours, and at last, you decide to let your mind go blissfully silent. The games will come later, as will the whispers and the confessions. Every other part of your life can be put on hold for a while. Oliver Wood likes you just as much as you like him. There hasn’t been a better play in the entire world.

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie

[star-girl-05]

Score for Gryffindor

Oliver Wood x Reader

SLYTHERIN WINS… the whole of Slytherin erupts with cheers while Oliver lands the rest of the Gryffindor team falling close behind. They watch Oliver closely; he's fuming there's smoke coming out of his ears. They've learned through the years that it's best to leave him alone when he's in a mood like this. 

Then they see her, the Slytherin captain and Oliver woods nemesis. She's constantly teasing him, messing with him trying to get in his head before any games even if it's not against Slytherin. Oliver always gets pissy after they talk, usually taking it out his frustrations on the team. That's the last thing they need right now, not when he's already about to explode. 

“Good game Wood” they were not expecting that, there was no teasing in your tone you were being genuine. For a moment they think that someone must have drunk a polyjuice potion and replaced you.

Oliver on the other hand knew you were still messing with him as soon as the words left your mouth he felt something snap inside him. You’ve always been bitchy to him, teasing him not only during quidditch. You’d stop him before he heads to the pitch for practice and rile him up even during classes, you always find a way to bother him. 

“Shove it, L/n”

“Don’t be that way, I’m just being friendly” You reach out placing a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture it would seem. Oliver didn't take it that way, no you couldn't be friendly. Everything you did had an alternative meaning, and right now he had no patience for it. In a second he's shoving you against the closet wall getting right in her face. 

George is the first to speak telling Oliver to calm down; they never expected their captain to get violent. He gets very passionate about quidditch but he's never done anything like this. 

“Shut your mouth before I shut if for you” Olivers' words are filled with venom. Instead of being intimidated though, you seem pleased, excited even. 

“Please do” your voice is just above a whisper but the team still caught it. Their eyes widened dramatically. No way the ice cold Slytherin captain just said that, and no way is there captain Oliver Wood snogging them.  None of them knew what to do till Oliver pulled away from you leading you away from the pitch.

“Guess Woods going to be scoring on Slytherin after all” 

[mastermindmiko]

Tensions

Pairing: Oliver Wood + gn!reader

Summary: the quidditch House cup final is close and tensions are high. To some more than others, so you help.

Warnings: growing up? Worrying. Thats it I believe

Requests are open!

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

"You better get up right now or I will smack you!"

"Fine. Fine. I'm going." I say, sitting up groggily as I rub my sleepy eyes. My roommates are glaring at me, and I huff as I look at the clock noticing how it's past midnight. The shouting continues and my roommate looks and me and goed, " Get up now."

I groan as I pull off the warm sheets from my bare legs and wear by fuzzy slippers. I grab a coat and wrap it around my body as tightly as I can. I can't deal with this today is the only thing I can think of as I hear the shouting begin to get accompanied with knocks or should I say slams.

I'm in the common room and I glare at him as hard as I can. He smiles sheepishly and grabs my hand. He's wearing his quidditch uniform, why is he always wearing his quidditch uniform?

"Oliver, no! It's past curfew and I want to sleep." I huff as he starts leading me to the common room door. He grins and opens the portrait. He looks at the fat lady and says, "Don't worry. No one will know, and the fat lady won't tell. Will you?"

"Of course not, Wood, as long as you bring the house cup this year!" The fat lady says with a smile as she looks at him. He gives her a weary smile then continues to walk. They hadn't won the cup since Charlie was captain, and this year they're the closest they've been since.

I would wonder where I'm being taken but knowing my best friend long enough I already know. Its even colder outside the castle. The stands are higher up in the air and it feels like I'm getting closer to the north pole. I shiver and I say, "don't you think we spend enough time here without coming after hours."

The quidditch pitch, the place where I'm certain Oliver spends more time in than classes practicing and I stay there watching him practice with a good book in my hands, only every once in a while giving him a thumbs up in encouragement. I don't really understand the game.

We reach the gryffindor stands and we sit in the middle, the best place to be if there was a match going on, but there wasn't. He sits down beside me and he would normally be going on about quidditch tactics and I would nod along like I understand anything that's going on when I don't. Today wasn't a normal day though.

"What's wrong?" I say, worried. I place ny hand on his shoulder. I feel like we worry about too many things this year, sirius black has escaped, our newts, the cup, graduating and jobs, it was all so new and scary. I was terrified and even more terrified that I would leave hogwarts without telling Oliver how I feel.

I have no doubt that he will go on to be in a big quidditch team, but how was I supposed to keep being best friends with a guy that was away all the time.

"Tomorrow's the match." Oliver says, and I can see him frown. Ah, yes. The match, the biggest match of his life, the big kahuna, the house cup final. He's been thinking about the day he won the final as captain ever since he was old enough to think about quidditch and by knowing Oliver, probably 2 years old.

Everyone has been building this big weight on his shoulders this year, even professor Mcgonagall, and even though I know they have good intentions, I think it's finally got to him.

"You're going to do great because no one's worked harder than you have. No team has had more 5 am practices than you, so I have faith that you're going to do amazing." I try to reassure him

"What happens if I get knocked out? There'll be scouts there!" Oliver panics, and I turn him to face me. I say, " I know that you want to be in puddlemore united, but if the scouts tomorrow can't notice how great you are at quidditch then I'm sure another team, just as great, will, so don't stress about it, and go get some sleep, you can't play, if you can't keep your eyes open."

I finish my speech with a large exhale and Oliver is finally grinning again. I feel the butterflies in my stomach erupt, and I grin back at him. I hold his hand and I stand up while tugging him with me. I say, "Come on."

He stands up and tugs me instead. I'm close to his chest, and he grabs my other hand. He looks at our intertwined hands and then looks back at me to say, "thank you."

"I'm only saying the truth Oliver, you're a great player." I say with a smile, encouraging him, though he could be a shit player and I wouldn't know really.

"It wouldn't hurt to be extra safe..." He trails off as he looks down at my lips and I start to panic instead of him this time. Was this finally it? I feel adrenaline course through my veins in anticipation and my stomach does cartwheels.

He presses his soft hips to mine, I let him. I press my lips harder against him, and sigh, happily. He squeezes my hands, and I feel him grin against my lips. He drops one of my hands to cup my face and pull me closer.

We part when I can't deny my body of oxygen anymore and I smile. The blush on my face is evident and I can't help but feel a slight embarrassment. I ask, "what was that?"

"A good luck kiss, and if you don't mind, I think I'm going to be having a lot more of them." Oliver smiles and wraps his arms around my waist. I, in turn, wrap my hands around his neck and I can't help but beam, "No, I wouldn't mind at all."

He kisses me again. 

An: I think I'm starting to like writing small one shots, what do we think about that? I think that they're cute and small which makes me able to write them faster and hence post more. Also, I Imagines the GIF, that's up before the cut as the way oliver looks at reader's lips before kissing them.

[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...

[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.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Stuck at my an open house for work, so here's my current brainstorm of things I want to write (and there's some requests I gotta get to as well). Apparently everything I write is inspired by a movie or song because why not

Thoughts??

[dreamcubed]

more than a woman | oliver wood x reader

song; more than a woman [bee gees] pairing; oliver wood x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; fluff, s2l word count; 5,1k timeline; chamber of secrets warnings; swearing, mentions of anxiety summary; y/n was one of many who fancied the obsessive quidditch boy, and to her surprise, she was of interest to him as well

a/n; you know it really doesn't make sense to me that the quidditch teams in hogwarts were limited to the number of players you could have on the pitch at a time: why no spares? what if someone can't make a match? so anyway imagine that no one has been kicked off the team for the sake of this oneshot, and chloe is just another member of the team

also i don't follow canon a bit at the end

masterlist

parts: || one | two ||

"more than a woman to me."

——————————————

You knew him as the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team: everyone knew him as that. You also knew that you weren't the only one whose heart fluttered whenever you caught sight of him, as he was a common crush among yours and his years, him being a year older than you. Nonetheless, you didn't really mind, as a crush on Oliver Wood made school much more interesting, and due to his obsession with quidditch, it seemed unlikely he would date and therefore there was no one to be jealous of.

One person you were jealous of, though, was your friend Chloe, as she shared a house with him and also played for his quidditch team. You were well aware she had no interest in the boy, and actually found him rather irritating, but you envied the fact she had more opportunities to talk to him. She didn't know you fancied Wood, as you were afraid she would make fun of you, so you surely hoped that she didn't think it suspicious that you made an extra effort to hang out with her whenever Wood was in the vicinity.

Like, for example, one breezy autumn morning when you headed over to the Gryffindor table to ask Chloe if she had done the transfiguration homework, upon seeing that Wood was sat opposite her. You - of course - knew that she would have done the homework: this was Chloe you were talking about. Nonetheless, it was a chance to be near Wood.

She was engaged in conversation with him when you arrived, just to your luck.

Chloe's eyes lit up when you reached her, saying, "In fact, Y/N's just the person to talk to."

"About what?"

"Your grandmother was a famous quidditch player, wasn't she? Grace Landen?"

"...Yes...?"

"Landen is your grandmother?" Wood's eyes widened as he looked upon you, "And you're just now telling me this?"

"I didn't know it was of interest to you." A blatant lie: you knew he would be interested in the fact you were the descendant of a famous quidditch player.

"Of course it's of interest to me, lass."

Lass. You liked that.

"Seriously. She was one of the best keepers to ever play. I look up to her."

You nodded, "She's an impressive woman."

"Do you know her training regime? Her old schedules? Her old diet?"

"No... but I can owl her if you want." This was finally a chance for you to get to know him.

"I don't want to bother you, lass."

"Really, it's fine. I should owl her more anyway."

The grin that stretched across his face caused butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you."

You beamed at him.

***

The second you received a reply from your grandmother, you ran to find Wood, as he wasn't at breakfast. You asked the Weasley twins where he was, who replied that he was most likely already down at the quidditch pitch doing some solo training. They said he often came for breakfast and left before most people were even awake. You made a mental note of that for future mornings.

The walk down to the pitch was already a long one, but it felt even longer with the excited anticipation bubbling inside of you. You eventually reached the large field stadium, which you had always assumed was vacant at this time of day, but was clearly occupied by the Gryffindor quidditch captain defending the hoops from an apparently charmed quaffle.

You waved up to him, and he quickly noticed you and flew down. Before he greeted you, he took out his wand to de-charm the quaffle, and then turned to you with a grin.

"What can I do for you, lass?"

Reaching into your cloak, you pulled out the piece of folded parchment paper that had been dropped off to you that very morning, and presented it to him.

"Seriously?" his eyes lit up, and the next thing you knew you were engulfed in a hug. Upon letting go, he said, "I know you said you would, but I didn't think you actually would."

You shrugged, "Why would I lie?" Your cheeks were still on fire from the embrace.

"Ah, I don't know," he said, "Are you sure there isn't anything private in here?"

"No, Rowena, no. I was just making light conversation with her, nothing serious."

You watched as he unfolded the paper and began reading through it. "Godric, this is a lot. Not much on diet, though."

"She always said it was unhealthy to fixate too much on food, and that you should just try to eat a lot of protein before practices and matches."

"I guess that's true," he folded up the paper, "D'you mind if I keep this?"

You shook your head, "I have no need for it."

"Thanks, lass," he tucked it into his pocket, before turning back to the pitch, "Have you inherited any of her talent?"

"Uh, I don't think so, maybe? I've never really played."

"How are you the granddaughter of a quidditch legend and never played quidditch?"

You shrugged.

"C'mon, let's play one-on-one with just the quaffle."

"I don't know how helpful playing against me would be."

"Who said anything about help? C'mon, let's have fun," he grinned, making you weak in the knees.

"Okay," you agreed, dreading fucking up in front of him.

"Have you got a broom?"

You shook your head.

"Ah, well, we can't have you using the school ones. That's not a fair game," he pondered for a moment, "Tell you what, you can use my old one. My dad got me a new broom for my birthday a few months ago, but my old one is still perfectly fine." He moved over to the broom shed by the changing rooms. "At least, it's nowhere near as bad as the school ones," he added.

"You sure?"

"Of course, but this broom means a lot to me - I played my first match here on it - so be careful."

That made you nervous.

He sensed your apprehension and laughed lightly, "Don't worry too much, lass, it's not like we're playing with bludgers."

That reminder did calm you down a bit, but you were still full of anxiety as you took off your robe and tie - grateful you opted for trousers that day - and climbed on to the broom. One of your biggest fears was looking like a total fucking idiot in front of your long time crush.

Wood could still clearly tell that you had your worries. He shouted across to you. "We'll ease into it at first, okay? Trust me, once you're in the rhythm of the game you'll be fine."

You nodded at him, keeping an eye on the quaffle locked underneath his right arm as you prepared for him to throw it up into the air.

At first, you fumbled a lot and lost a few points to Wood, but once your confidence on the broom grew and you began to be more comfortable with only using one hand, you managed to catch Wood off guard and get the quaffle through a hoop. You turned around on the broom with your face lit up happily; your hands in the air as you cheered for yourself. Wood cheered for you as well, despite being the opposition.

"That wasn't half bad, L/N. With a bit of training you'd be a mean chaser."

Never had a compliment ignited such warmth into your heart.

It also gave you a bit more courage than before, and you found yourself chasing Wood a bit more eagerly, and trying harder to stop him scoring. When you successfully blocked him from scoring for the first time, catching the ball in your hand, you were too consumed with joy to remember that it meant you were supposed to then fly to the other end of the pitch in an attempt to score a goal.

Wood knocked your broom to get you to drop the ball, diving down quickly to catch it, at which point you were so full of adrenaline that your instincts kicked. You hit the quaffle with the end of your broom when he tried to score again, sending it halfway down the pitch as you immediately chased after it. You then caught the quaffle, and were in the final stretch to the other hoops to score when you felt Wood's presence beside you.

Your determination was fuelled further: you ducked down to fly underneath him, in an attempt to throw him off, and then circled him again before throwing the quaffle directly at the centre hoop. It went through, and at that point you were even more thrilled than you had been at all the previous quidditch achievements you had made in the last hour.

In a dance of triumph, despite the fact that you were definitely losing the game, you rolled your broom over in the air, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

Wood simply stopped and stared at you, grinning just as wide - if not wider - than you were.

"See how fun quidditch is, lass?"

You nodded, your cheeks warmed both from the quidditch and the intensity of his gaze upon you.

"And this is just with the quaffle and two players. Imagine how much more fun it gets when you have two full teams and all four balls."

You grimaced, "I don't like the sound of playing whilst bludgers are flying around."

"Well, that's what the beaters are for."

"Yeah, but you have the Weasley twins on your side. If I played for my house, I wouldn't have the same sort of prodigy-level protection. In fact, those prodigies would be against me."

Wood gave you an expression that read "fair point" before looking up at the castle to see students begin moving in and out of the doors.

"Shit," you muttered, "I'm gonna be late for potions. Snape is gonna do my head in."

You began flying down, back to the side of the pitch. Wood remained hovering in the air, in the same location as you had just been.

"This was fun, Wood!" you yelled up at him, waving your arm in goodbye.

He waved back at you, "Come play again anytime, lass!"

You gave him a thumbs up, before grabbing your robe and tie and beginning a sprint back up to the castle.

It wasn't even eleven o'clock yet and you were probably going to lose house points for the first time ever over tardiness, but you could still safely say you had never had such a good day.

***

You continued to owl back and forth with your grandmother for the next week, and it was almost a week after you had played quidditch with Wood (and spoken to him last, for that matter), when you received a gift from her. It was her old Ravenclaw quidditch shirt from when she used to play at school, kept in surprisingly good condition.

Immediately, you looked around the hall in search of Wood, and spotted him sat near the Weasley twins on the Gryffindor table. It was a rare morning that he had decided to not go for early morning solo practice. You roughly wrapped the shirt back up in its packaging before heading over to where he was: summoning every last bit of courage within yourself to do so. His face lit up when he spotted you in his peripheral, which made you feel fuzziness inside of you.

Sitting sideways on the bench by his side, you presented the parcel to him, "Look what my nan sent me."

He picked up the shirt to observe it properly, "Shit, lass, I really am jealous that you're related to her."

"Calm down, Wood, all you gotta do is marry L/N and then Landen's your in-law," either Fred or George piped in, you couldn't tell which.

"Aye, true," was all Wood said in response, which opened up an unreasonable amount of hope within you.

As you looked across at Chloe, who was sat opposite you, you realised she could see your flustered state. It looked like the cat was far out of the bag by the smile she gave you, paired with the mischievous look in her eyes. She pointed at Wood with her eyes, widening her grin.

You glared at her: a silent warning to keep her mouth shut.

While you exchanged a wordless conversation with Chloe, Wood had been talking with the twins about some of your grandmother's most famous moments, and it was clear how much he adored quidditch by the way he spoke.

"Godric, L/N, please take this man to see your nan soon, maybe then he'll actually shut up about quidditch for once," one of the twins said.

You gave him a pointed stare, "I think that would make him talk more if anything."

"Even better then, follow through with the marriage plan so he bothers you instead of us," the other twin spoke as they both stood up to leave.

"I don't talk about quidditch that much," Wood said.

"You do," Chloe stood up, "Now if you could forgive me for borrowing Mrs Wood, we have study group in the library to get to."

Ignoring what she referred to you as, you picked up your shirt and said goodbye to Wood, before following Chloe to the library. You prepared yourself as best you could for the bombardment of questions that were inevitably about to follow.

***

The next day it was a Saturday, and you decided to brave your luck and get up early to see if you could catch Wood going out for a morning solo practice. You knew the Gryffindor team didn't have scheduled practice until later that morning, but you also knew what Wood was like.

Sure enough, you walked into the Great Hall to see Wood eating by himself at one end of the Gryffindor table. The only other students awake were a few other Ravenclaws and Hermione Granger, who were all likely up for some early morning studying. Wood noticed you as you entered the hall, and waved you over to him.

"Come for a re-match, lass?" he tilted his head with a smirk, making you grin.

"If you're up for it, Wood."

"With you? Always," he beamed, "Now, eat up. Your nan said you've gotta get your protein before practice, after all."

You sat opposite him and began tucking into bacon and hash browns, readying yourself for a long morning of practice for a sport you didn't even play.

The two of you played for a good couple hours before the rest of the Gryffindor team arrived for practice, at which point you reluctantly flew to the ground. Wood had let you use his old broom again, and you had opted to wear your grandmother's old quidditch shirt to fit the theme.

You hopped off the broom near the rest of the team, and greeted them with a smile, "Morning, everyone."

You heard a chorus of, "Morning, L/N," in response. Apart from a distinct, "So this is where you got to," from Chloe.

"Sorry, did I keep L/N from you, Smith?" Wood asked, landing down next to you.

"No, not at all, I just didn't expect to not see her at breakfast this morning."

"I told you she'd be down here," one of the twins, who you hazarded a guess at being Fred, said.

"I mean, your exact words were 'she's probably with her husband', not specifying the quidditch pitch."

"It's Wood, that's basically the same thing."

"Alright, enough chit-chat," Wood said, "On your brooms, everyone, start off with a simple game of catch to get you warmed up."

He turned to you as the rest of the Gryffindor team took off into the air.

"I'll see you later, lass," he said, "This has been spectacular."

You couldn't help but smile bashfully in response, "Couldn't agree more, Wood, I'll see you around."

As you began walking off the pitch, he yelled after you. "Just call me Oliver!" And before you could form a reply, he had taken off from the ground along with the rest of his team.

Yeah, you were in deep.

***

The days began to get colder as Christmas creeped closer to fruition: Hogsmeade trips, like usual, were becoming the highlight of students' lives. You were definitely one of those students, wandering the familiar streets of the cosy Winter village with Chloe.

Ever since she found out you fancied Oliver Wood, she had been teasing you relentlessly. Hogsmeade trips were no exception.

"Should we go in the Three Broomsticks?"

"Why? Hoping to bump into Wood there?"

You glared at Chloe, but had no comeback.

"He's here somewhere, you know," she added, "Your insane husband finally took a day off quidditch."

"He's not my husband."

"You wish he was."

You sent another glare in her direction.

"He hasn't corrected anyone who says it," she continued, "I think that's a pretty sure sign that he likes you back."

"You- you think so?"

"In what world is it not?"

You shrugged, "This world, maybe."

Chloe scoffed, "C'mon, let's get some butterbeers."

As the two of you entered the homely pub, your stomach flipped at the sight of Oliver sat at a table with a group of people, including people from his year and members of the Gryffindor quidditch team. His eyes met yours when he looked up at the sound of the over-door bell ringing, and your stomach flipped again when his lips stretched into a smile.

You graced him with a smile in return before Chloe dragged you over to their table and then promptly disappeared to order drinks.

"Oh, sorry," one of the twins apologised, making you frown at him until he stood up and said, "Move over, Georgie, let L/N sit next to her husband."

"No, Fred, you don't need to-" you began to say, but they had already moved along the booth bench and sat down again, meaning you looked like a dick if you didn't take the space they had made for you. This presented you with a whole new dilemma: shuffle between the table and twins to get to the space, or shuffle between the table and Lee Jordan and Oliver to get to the space.

With the pressure of sitting down growing, you took the side that was closest to you, which happened to involve Oliver. You got past Jordan with little to no uncomfortable physical contact, but the table was slanted in a way that meant there was less space between Oliver and the table than with Jordan.

"Sorry, lass," he said, gently brushing his hands against your hips to help guide you smoothly past him.

As you sat down, your thigh rubbed against his, which made heat rush to your cheekbones: you couldn't help but notice how everyone was staring at you, which made you very grateful for Chloe's return.

When she saw your seating position, she opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but evidently decided against it before grabbing a chair from another table to sit down. The group fell into individual conversations as you remembered something you had been meaning to tell Oliver.

"Oliver."

He hummed, turning his attention away from another conversation.

"My nan owled this morning - she said you can come over and meet her during the Christmas holiday."

Then you were encompassed in a tight hug: something that never failed to catch you off guard when from Oliver Wood.

"At this rate I'll actually have to marry you, lass."

Blood swarmed to your ears at the furthered prospect of marrying him, and to prevent an awkward silence you said, "I don't think we can legally get married."

"Yeah, not right now we can't."

You wished him saying that didn't spark the inkling of hope it did.

"Anyway, uh, if you do want to visit, I can owl you about it to arrange a time."

He beamed at you, "That would be great, thank you, lass."

"It's nothing, really."

It was far from nothing: these interactions meant the world to you.

***

Today was the day you had been long awaiting.

The day that Oliver Wood, Gryffindor quidditch captain and your long-time crush, would be coming over to your famous grandmother's. You were staying at hers for a couple of days specifically for the event, despite the fact he was unlikely to be there for more than a few hours. You just didn't want your grandmother to think you were only visiting her for him.

It was arranged that he would arrive via floo powder, and so you were anxiously sat on the sofa across from the fireplace. Your grandmother was in the kitchen making tea, and you were partially grateful she wasn't there to witness the state you were in.

In the corner of your eye, the fireplace lit up in green flames as a figure emerged from it. There Oliver was, grinning at you, while he wiped off the soot from his travel. You were quick to hand him a rag to aid with the cleaning up.

"My nan is just in the kitchen," you said, making him frown, which made you frown in return.

"Not even a hello?"

Your eyes widened, "Oh- sorry- I just- you're not really here for me though, are you?"

He stared at you expectantly.

"Hello, Oliver."

"Hello, lass, it's good to see you."

Your grandmother then entered the room, and nothing warmed your heart more than watching Oliver's eyes light up with pure excitement and adoration. He began gushing to the famous Grace Landen about his passion for quidditch as well as what an inspiration she had been to him. For some reason, you didn't feel awkward stood there in silence as you watched them, nor when you had all sat down with cups of tea on the go.

It was only when Oliver turned to look at you did you realise you had perhaps been staring for too long.

"You should see your granddaughter here, though. She's clearly inherited some of your talent - it's a shame she doesn't play."

Never had a compliment left you so flattered.

"You managed to get her up in the air?" your grandmother said, evidently shocked, "I've been trying to convince her for years, but she's always refused."

"Really? I swear I only asked like twice before she agreed."

"Well, that's probably because she likes you a lot - Merlin knows she doesn't shut up about you."

You must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights as Oliver turned to look at you again.

"Excuse me, I have to-" you stood up, raking your mind for a reason to leave, "-use the toilet."

You didn't just hear the silence- you felt it as you hurried out the room.

Rowena knows it took you a long time to bring yourself back to a composed state: in fact, you ideally needed longer but you couldn't 'use the toilet' for a suspicious amount of time. So, you worked up the courage to return, and just as you reached the doorway to the living room, you overheard them talking.

"She is a smart young woman."

"To be honest, she's more than a woman to me."

That was when your grandmother caught sight of you, smiling at you as you were forced to re-enter the room. Despite her evident friendliness, the atmosphere was awkward as you sat down next to Oliver again.

Your grandmother sensed this, and broke the silence by saying, "I have lamb in the oven if you would like to stay for dinner - we'd love to have you."

Oliver smiled, "If it's no bother to you."

***

You didn't see him again over the Christmas holidays, and you were definitely mad about that. At this point, as you dared to hope, Oliver had basically confirmed that he at least enjoyed your company. "More than a woman to me." That sounded like a love confession, if you were truly honest, but you didn't want to set yourself up for too much disappointment.

Currently, your problem was that Chloe had stayed at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, meaning you didn't know where to sit on the train. It felt too selfish to take up a cabin by yourself: not that that was an option, as everywhere seemed to be occupied by at least a couple people. As you progressed up the train, you caught sight of Oliver sat in a cabin with a few members of the quidditch team: it was of no surprise to you that he had already called them together for a meeting. He really did too much sometimes.

You could hear the Weasley twins especially grumbling as Oliver spoke, making you roll your eyes as you entered the cabin. "Rowena, Oliver, can't you wait a few minutes before forcing a quidditch meeting?"

"This is importa-"

"How many of you are here against your will?"

The Weasley twins immediately rose their hands, and everyone else slowly followed, giving shameful glances towards Oliver.

"Okay, you're all free to go," you said, gesturing towards the open door. Everyone began shuffling out, muttering their thanks towards you while Oliver stared at you in disbelief.

"You don't have the power to do that."

"Clearly, I do."

He frowned at you.

"Right, see you at schoo-"

"Where are you going?"

"Well- I- I don't know. Elsewhere?"

"Why? Smith isn't on the train."

"I mean I know but I- you-"

"Sit down, lass."

***

It wasn't long before the next quidditch match - in fact, a matter of a couple of weeks. Those weeks were long enough for it to be established that people still referred to you and Oliver as married, and also long enough for you to realise you were possibly in love with him. You had never imagined you would get close enough to him for the feelings to progress past a crush.

The match was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, which basically meant everyone versus Slytherin, so you were glad you had to deal with no inner conflict about who to cheer for (as even if it was Ravenclaw playing, part of you would have wanted to cheer for Oliver).

You were stood in the stands along with a mix of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, keeping your eyes glued on Oliver by the hoops. He was an amazing keeper: something you had expressed to your grandmother repeatedly.

As he saved another goal, you let cheers leave your mouth, lost in the sound of the people around you. For a brief moment, it appeared as if he looked in your direction with the biggest grin on his face, but you were just a face in the crowd so he could have been looking at anyone. To be honest, you weren't sure why you dismissed yourself like that, since you were at the very least close friends.

Hopefully more.

The match progressed as rain began to fall from the sky, but no one was budging from the stands or the pitch. You didn't even bother to cast an umbrella charm as you kept your eyes glued to the man that held your heart. To most people, he was far from the highlight of the match, but to you, he was the only thing you could focus on. Harry Potter was where other people's eyes rested: it appeared he was in the race for the golden snitch.

You finally parted your eyes from Oliver to watch Potter chase down the snitch with Malfoy close on his tail. Malfoy wasn't a bad seeker, sure, but he could never compete with Potter's natural talent.

To be honest, you don't think you've ever been more ecstatic for a quidditch game victory - not even for your own house. Everyone except the Slytherins appeared to match your energy, however, as the audience erupted in roars of praise and excitement. Harry Potter held the golden snitch up proudly in the air with his team members circling him.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Lee Jordan yelled into his wand.

The second the teams had disappeared off the pitch you pushed through the crowd to run down to where the changing rooms were. The Gryffindor team weren't yet in the changing rooms, as they were still cheering and congratulating each other outside, meaning you didn't have to wait to see Oliver. He caught sight of you almost immediately, and his face stretched into an even wider smile as he began moving towards you.

It must have been the adrenaline that fuelled your actions, because you would have never done it normally, but you ran towards him and found yourself jumping into his arms. He quickly caught you, and you pushed away the scent of sweat as he span you around.

As he stilled from spinning you, you looked down at his face to see him looking up at you with the utmost adoration in his eyes - the same adoration he displayed when talking about quidditch. Those same eyes flicked towards your lips, making anticipation bubble inside of you as you looked at his. Then you mustered up even more courage inside of you and moved your hands from his neck to his head before kissing him in a rushed manner. He reciprocated your actions, even when one of the Weasley twins hollered, "Get a fucking room!"

You felt a hand move from its grip on your thigh, and parted from the kiss to see him flipping off the rest of his team. All at once, the adrenaline and courage left you at the sight of the team's eyes on you, which made you drop entirely from Oliver's hold and partially hide yourself behind him.

He merely laughed at you, before ordering his team to get changed which gave you a brief moment alone.

"You reek of sweat, Wood."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Wait for me?"

You nodded, and he pressed another quick kiss to your lips.

"See you in ten, lass."

————————————

parts: || one | two ||

masterlist

written; 16/06/2022 —> 04/07/2022 published; 05/07/2022 edited; —/—/——

[captainsophiestark]

The One and Only Exception

Percy Weasley x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Harry Potter

Day 13 Prompt: "Come with me, hurry."

Summary: When Y/N and Percy end up in a small closet together hiding from angry Slytherins, certain feelings may finally come to light.

Word Count: 1,628

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"This is why you're my best friend."

I grinned as Oliver Wood, my regular partner in crime, whispered from next to me in the secret passage where we crouched. Normally, we were partners in Quidditch-based crime, coming up with the most amazing plays to destroy our opponents on the field. We'd been doing it since first year, even before anyone had been willing to listen to us and our Quidditch opinions.

Now, however, we were partners in crime in something that fit our Beater pair more than either of us. But with a match against Slytherin on the horizon and them playing ridiculous, cheaty mind games, I'd convinced Oliver to join me in doing the same.

We were going to get back at them by getting in their heads, the same way they'd been spending time trying to get in ours. And as soon as Marcus Flint came around the corner, ideally with a few other members of his team, our hovering bubbles of water and flour would drop down on them from the ceiling and our revenge would begin.

Thankfully, we didn't have to wait much longer. As we'd expected, Flint came into the hallway with his Beaters trailing him. Oliver and I waited for the perfect moment, then with a wave of our wands, dropped the balloons and flour smack onto their heads.

They froze in their tracks, horror on their faces, before they looked around wildly and angrily. Oliver and I shared a maniacal grin, then took off running in opposite directions as planned as Flint roared.

"WHO DID THAT?"

Oliver disappeared up the secret corridor as I popped into the hallway with the Slytherins, drawing their attention before disappearing around the corner of a castle hallway. Ideally neither of us would get caught, but Oliver was the Quidditch captain, so we needed to make sure he didn't get blamed for this lest the whole team be punished. Hence my part.

I could hear the footsteps of the Slytherins pounding against the cobblestones behind me, but I just cackled and picked up the pace, racing ahead. I flew around another corner, intending to put on a little more speed, but stopped dead in my tracks thanks to an unexpected obstacle. Percy Weasley, Oliver's roommate and one of my friends since first year, was walking down the hallway, completely oblivious of me and the angry Slytherins on my trail.

"Whoa! Y/N, what are you-"

"No time! Come with me, hurry!" I cried, grabbing Percy's arm and dragging him along after me. He immediately slowed me down, and if we kept going at this pace, Flint and his friends would catch us for sure.

Time for plan B.

I readied my wand and leveled it at the nearest door off the corridor, blasting it open before ducking inside, dragging Percy with me. I quickly shut the door behind us, relocking it with magic and then freezing to avoid making noise that would give us away.

"Really, Y/N, what on earth-"

"Percy, sh!" I said, raising my finger to my lips and staring him down with wide eyes. He didn't look completely pleased, but he listened, settling in to stare at me with his arms crossed while I watched the door.

I thought that would be that, but then Percy grabbed my arm to turn my attention back to him, one eyebrow raised almost into his hairline in demanding question. I sighed, then leaned in to whisper in his ear.

In the back of my mind, I realized just how closely together that put us, chest to chest in this tiny dark storage closet. I tried my best to force that train of thought to be quiet, especially since I was sure Percy didn't feel the same as I did.

"The Slytherins have been messing with our Quidditch team worse than usual," I whispered. "So, I'm helping my best friend by getting them back. We set a trap with water balloons and flour in the hallway, dumped it right on Flint's head, and got the Beaters too. After I triggered the prank, I took off and they chased. I ran into you, dragged us both in here so we wouldn't get caught, and now we're waiting for them to pass."

I leaned back at bit to gauge Percy's reaction, and for just a second, I thought I saw a faint blush on his cheeks through the dark. Then, I noticed his deep frown.

"What were you thinking!" he hissed, at least remembering to keep his voice down this time. "You know I'm the Head Boy, don't you? I have to get you in trouble for this!"

"Or..." I started, giving Percy a little smile as an idea came to me. He raised his eyebrows, still looking a little outraged, so I continued. "Percy, did you actually see me do anything wrong?"

"...Well, no. But I just heard you confess to dropping water balloons on the Slytherins-"

"Percy. I just saved you from an angry Marcus Flint, who absolutely had it coming, by the way. For once in your life just be chill."

He stared at me, stress written on every single line of his face, then finally sighed, his shoulders falling as he closed his eyes.

"Okay."

"Wait, really?"

He looked at me again, clearly incredibly tired of my nonsense. Maybe he was just trying to fake me out...

"Really, Y/N. I... you made a decent enough argument that I suppose, just this once..." he cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck, and this time I definitely caught him blushing. "I suppose I can let it go."

"I freaking love you," I laughed, flinging my arms around him and pulling him in tight for a hug. He froze like a statue, then slowly, wrapped his arms around my waist. As he did, I realized what I'd just said, and I felt heat rising to my own face, too.

We stayed like that for a few beats, part of me not wanting to pull away and deal with the tension now blanketing this closet. After a moment, though, I did, slowly. Percy didn't drop his arms from around my waist, and I left mine around his neck as we made eye contact, all the humor and lightness gone.

"Percy..." I breathed. I glanced down at his lips before I could stop myself, and when I quickly looked back up after realizing what I'd done, I found Percy's gaze had wandered to my lips, too.

I smiled to myself, then leaned in and kissed him without letting myself think twice about it. I'd had a crush on Percy since fifth year, and Oliver had spent all of that time telling me to stop being a chicken and just ask him out. Now, two years later, I was finally managing to do just that.

Percy kissed me back as soon as he'd realized what was happening, and I smiled into the kiss. After a moment we pulled away, and I met Percy's eyes, wide with shock but a small smile on his face. I was practically glowing.

"You just kissed me," he said, like he still couldn't quite believe it. I nodded.

"I sure did. And I'm gonna do it again."

Percy huffed a quiet, happy laugh, then met me half way as I leaned back in towards him. Marcus Flint and the angry Slytherins were completely forgotten as I ran one hand through Percy's hair at the base of his neck, and he wrapped his arms even tighter around me.

"Hey, I think it's finally safe for you-"

Percy and I jumped apart and whirled around as the door flew open, revealing Oliver. I guess he'd come to find me once the danger of the Slytherins had passed, unfortunately for me. Oliver, Percy, and I stared at each other with wide eyes for a few moments, and then Oliver's face broke into a grin.

"FINALLY! I've had to spend years hearing you talk about Percy nonstop, only to go to bed and hear Percy talking about you until I hit him with a pillow!"

Percy and I exchanged a glance. I couldn't believe that all this time, he'd been just as hung up on me as I'd been on him.

"Alright, I don't need to see the lovey-dovey stuff even though I'm happy for you," Oliver said, putting his hand back on the door and taking a step back into the hallway. "Y/N, don't be late for practice. I expect to see you on the field in twenty minutes."

With that, he slammed the door again, leaving Percy and I alone in the small, dark space.

"You... you've talked to Oliver about me?" asked Percy, hesitant hope in his voice. I smiled.

"Of course. He's my best friend, and I've had a crush on you for years."

Percy beamed. "So have I."

"Well, I'm glad we finally got that cleared up then," I said, taking Percy's hand in the dark. It was amazing neither of us were literally glowing with happiness. "So... maybe we could do something this weekend? A date, or something?"

"I'd love that," he replied. "It's a Hogsmeade weekend, so perhaps some tea?"

"That sounds perfect." I leaned in to kiss him again, a short peck on the lips, then I pulled back and flung the closet door open. "I need to go or I'm going to be late to practice, and then Oliver will kill me, but... I'll see you in the Common Room tonight?"

"I'll see you tonight," he said with a little nod. I beamed back at him, then blew him one last kiss before taking off down the hallway again, headed for the Quidditch pitch outside, still floating on air. My prank on Flint had worked out even better than I'd hoped it would.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Harry Potter Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[t1oui]

sometimes i get sad that my ocs aren’t canon bc it means only i know how cute lucy weasley-wood and henry thomas-finnigan are together and let me just say y’all are missing out

[semisutopia]

pleasant poetry ➠ o. wood

pair: oliver wood x hufflepuff rival fem! reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: one mention of death, slight name calling, romantic tension, and kissing!!!

genre: fluff!

“oi Wood!”

you yelled from the bottom of the quidditch pitch, seeing the scotsman flying on his broom. he descended a bit too hard as he got off his broom, staggering a bit.

“what do you want L/n?”

Oliver replied, clearly annoyed that you ruined the Gryffindor’s practice time.

“it’s our time to practice now. Professor Sprout wrote a note”

you said as you handed him the scroll written by the head of Hufflepuff house. Wood mumbled as he read the parchment which read ‘I, Professor Pamona Sprout give the Hufflepuff quidditch team to practice at 8:00 on the 21st of November’.

you smirked and snatched the parchment away from his hands as he finished reading, snarling at you.

“alright, get your team off the pitch”

*timeskip to Monday*

“i will be splitting you into pairs for this project as this potion is extremely difficult to make”, Snape’s monotonous voice called out. you barely heard him call out the partners, hearing a ‘Johnson and Weasley’ and ‘Diggory and Farrah’ until you heard your name.

“lastly, L/n and Wood. everybody get to work. i want the complete potion down by the end of friday’s class meaning you will get 4 days to work on this. now get to work and i want to hear no bickering.”

you groaned and walked over to Oliver’s bench and sat next to him.

“what do you want?” he asked glaring at you.

“you’re an idiot. didn’t you hear the task?”

“clearly not. answer my question; why are you here?”

you rolled your eyes at his incompetence.

“i’m your partner for this project. we have to make a brew of ‘Pleasant Poetry’. we have until friday.

“pleasant poetry? what kinda potion is that?”

you read through the book and said out loud to him what you read, “Pleasant Poetry: allows the person who ingests it to speak with the most enchanting words in a siren-like voice.”

you looked up from the book and saw him looking at you already. you observed as his gaze travelled from your hair, to your hands on the page, to your lips, and finally your eyes. his own eyes widened when he saw you looking back at him and his cheeks formed a red tint.

“um right okay…” you said to break the tension.

he cleared his throat. “yeah aright pleasant poetry. let’s do it. i wanna get it over with as soon as possible”

“why? so you can stop working with me?”

“—yeah of course. why’d i want to work with the enemy?” he retaliated.

“i’m not your enemy, Wood. our next match is not for a while. until then, we have to work together to make this potion. it’s really hard.”

“yeah fine aright.”

*timeskip to Wednesday evening*

you and Oliver had finished getting most of the ingredients for the potion.

“okay, last thing we need is rain taken from the forbidden forest… how are we supposed to get that?!”

“let’s just wait in the forest until it rains? don’t you have a spell to make it rain or something? yer the smart one”, he said walking into the forest with you following closely behind him.

“no, i have no such spell. we just have to wait until it rains. and we have to go back before the sun sets. it’s forbidden for a reason”

“aw does little Y/n not wanna break school rules?”

“no, little Y/n wants to not get killed by centaurs who hate humans.” you said walking in front of him now.

he murmured a soft ‘i knew that’ and jogged to catch up with you.

you both placed your bags by the root of one tree and sat down waiting for the clouds to become dark.

it was peaceful. for once. Hogwarts is an extremely big school and rarely do you ever hear silence apart from when you’re sleeping at night. so, simply being in nature and hearing the chirping of the birds and the slight clopping of the thestrals was relaxing and calming in a way. not to mention the comfortable silence between you and Oliver.

Oliver Wood and you were never really friends despite doing everything together. you found each other more as rivals than peers or friends. but never have you realised what he made you feel. with him, you felt safe…you didn’t feel like you needed to try to be anything.

Oliver rested his head back on the tree bark and closed his eyes. you looked at him and for some reason, you couldn’t look away. his side profile was stunning. the way his chest heaved up and down as he breathed, the way his adam’s apple was sticking out of his neck so sharply, the way his face looked in the rays of sunlight shooting through the leaves. it all looked so—

“like what you see, l/n?”

his voice brought you out of your thoughts. you wanted to retaliate, or say something but no words came out. you just started into his beautiful hazel eyes, as if they were pulling you in them.

“you know…” Oliver started again, “yer not that bad to look at yerself” he said and tucked a piece of hair behind your ears. his hand didn’t leave you face however, it stayed on your right cheek and his thumb traced down to your lips.

your heart was beating so hard. why? this has never happened before. granted, this situation has never happened before…but you didn’t want it to stop. there was a fluttering feeling in your stomach that filled you with joy.

“oh yeah?” you mustered up the courage to say. Wood smirked and moved his hand down to the side of your neck and leaned in closer.

“yeah” he whispered in a husky voice. you both knew where this was going and wanted it to happen. just when your lips were about to touch, you felt something drip on you.

it was going to rain now and you could finally finish the potion. Oliver sighed and got up. you internally cursed the rain for ruining the moment but quickly stood up too.

“give me the mason jar” you instructed him and he did as told, handing you the jar.

it started to rain and you collected the rain water before tucking the jar in your bag again. as you were about to say something, Oliver took your hand and spun you around.

“dance with me” he said, holding your hand in one of his. you chuckled. “we have no music” “then we’ll just have to make our own”

he hummed a low melody as your swayed together, drenched by the rain water but you didn’t care. you were just happy.

Wood spun you around once more and put his hands on your waist, halting your movement and pulled you close to him.

“Y/n” he started and moved one hand to your chin to raise it up. “may i?” he asked as his eyes glistened with hope and anticipation.

you nodded quickly and your lips touched each other’s. his lips were soft and wet because of the rain. they were gentle as they kissed you and you didn’t want it to stop. your hands made their way up to his hair and tugged on it slightly as he released a hum against your lips.

pulling away, he rested your foreheads together and mumbled, “i think i’d like to be your partner for the next project too eh?”