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redheadspark · 1 year ago

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Fifth Floor Prt. 2

Summary - You and Oliver take full advantage of the Prefect's Bathroom

Warnings - SMUT SMUT SMUT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, 18+ ONLY!

Part two of Fifth Floor

It surprised you: one minute you two were kissing and now you two were together in the bath on the throes of pleasure.

Both you and Oliver were not going to slow down as soon as you cast the charm along the door and walls into the Prefects Bathroom. The pent-up feelings you two kept to yourselves over the past few years since you graduated were now pouring out to one another, like a busted open dam. Yet it felt like it was right, stripping each other's clothes off while kissing and giggling. The serious tones of being consumed by one another never masked the playfulness either, which was almost a reflection of your relationship with one another anywho: serious and yet light. Of course, you were baffled when Oliver perched you on the edge of the tub that was now filled to the brim with hot water mixed with scented and enchanted bubbles.

His boldness came through as he gently pushed your legs open and licked into your folds like he was a starving student at a Feast.

Intense hot pleasure came through you ten told as he was between your legs, thankful that you could be as loud as you wanted since no one outside the room could hear your activities together. Yet it made Oliver persistent, listening to the cues on where to lick and where to kiss along your folds and inside your cunt. Almost like a devoted student, taking notes and knowing what makes you come undone and what made you whimper and writhe. You were unraveling in seconds since it's been some time since you had something like this with someone, his fingers gliding along your folds when he felt you shaking and close to orgasm. No matter how long you tried to hold out, it was closer than you thought.

Seeing him in front of you, his head between your shaking legs and his back muscles glistening and contracting made your head swim all the more. All of those times practicing and playing Quidditch was showing in his muscles along his backside and his arms. He memorized you, even with him giving gentle kitten licks along your sensitive clit. It made you fall back against the marble floor, moving your hips and trying to prolong the orgasm that was coming so fast.

Up right before you broke, you placed your hands in his brown tuffs of hair and felt your body move without your knowledge, rolling your hips into his face and finally feeling him suck your clit.

You fell with a howl, and Oliver thought of you as a gorgeous siren.

After a good moment or two of you calming yourself down, of Oliver watching you with wide eyes and a small glimmer of liquid on his chin and lips, you grinned widely like a Cheshire Cat at him as you pushed yourself back up into a sitting posting. Sinking into the water and feeling the temperature engulf your now sensitive skin, you sighed and moaned at the same time as you turned him around and made him lean against the bathtub wall. He went willingly, you pressing a hand against his hard and toned chest as he was how against the bathtub wall with nowhere else to go.

Slowly and without breaking eye contact with him, you reached your other hand down beneath the bubbles and felt his cock. Hard, a bit large for your hand to wrap all around, but it felt perfect in your hand as you gripped him tightly. Oliver inhaled sharply, his eyes going wide and his breath shaking as you started stroking him off under the water.

You never thought you would be in this kind of situation with your best friend, bringing in emended pleasure under the bubbles and water in a bathroom alone. But it was also a dream come true, being in his arms and blissfully happy. There would never be a right moment for something like this, Oliver reminded you of that moment before you both were in the throws of pleasure and lust like this.

But it felt right now, getting Oliver off as he was manning and biting his lower lips with every twist of your hand and every squeeze of your fingers. You could sense and see that he was trying not to be too loud, which seemed ironic since he made your moan crudely a moment before when he was licking into your cunt with vigor.

It should be the same for him.

You leaned up to kiss his neck and lick along his skin as your hand was moving a bit faster, feeling his hips shaking under the water and moving in sync with yours as his hands were gripping the sides of the tub, arms stretched out and his head thrown back.

"You can let it all out know you," You hummed against his jaw, kissing his neck once more with a bit of vigor as you pressed your bare chest against his, "No one will know we're in here, and they won't hear anything. You sound gorgeous like this, Oli,"

"F-f-fuck!" He moaned aloud as you traced your thumb along the tip of his cock. He was shaking, the water splashing the pair of you as you grinned wickedly and straddled one of his thighs. The hard muscle against your still sensitive cunt made you moan against his neck as your other hand raked in his brown hair and pulled hair. He moaned crudely, his head snapping back as you looked at his exposed neck and his trembling lips.

He looked beyond gorgeous to you.

Before you could say anything to him to make him come undone as he did with you, he moved one of his gripped hands from the bathtub wall and placed it on your arm in a death grip, making you stop stroking him since you thought you did something wrong. Your other hand released his hair, making his head snap back to look at you as you shot him a worried look.

"You okay?" You asked him, heading his labored breathing and how dilated his eyes were. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him or made this a bad experience, it would have pained you. Maybe you were too harsh or this was too quick. But he slowly grinned, his crimson lips and flushed cheeks should no sign of pain or uncomfortableness as you were searching his eyes. He leaned forward, kissing you soundly and gently in the water, making you melt and release his cocked as you framed his face.

To share a gentle moment in the throws of love seemed far too much, yet not enough. He kissed you gently and with no hint of urgency. There was more time in the world for you two to finally have each other, to be in love with one another, and you felt like Oliver wanted to savor every second with you.

"I don't wanna cum yet," He whispered against your lips, tracing your nose with his as you gulped, "Not when I wanna have ya here,"

That alone made your heart skip, feeling his hands go under the water and grab your hips as he too was not breaking your glance. He moved your swiftly, having you now against the wall and him crowding you as he kissed you over and over. His hands moved to trace and touch your breast, some bubbles slipping down your nipples and making you moan as he palmed them both while kissing down your neck and jawline. You felt as if you were boneless under his touch, his chest against yours as his mouth moved now to lick and suckle your breast, his thighs against your own under the water to make you feel his still hard cock near your own aching core.

It felt perfect, all of this felt perfect.

Releasing a nipple from his mouth with a pop, your eyes were glazed over as he leaned into you again and stared into your orbs to catch his breath, "I got ya, okay?"

You nodded your head, you two staring each other down as his spare hand reached down to take his cot in hand and guide himself into you. You felt it all through your bones and skin, through your veins as your eyes rolled back and you felt him slowly sink himself inside of you. The stretch felt like an ache, a good ache after being on a broom for far too long. It felt right, almost engrained within you as his cock snugged against your walls and you moaned loudly with no sign of being restrained. Your eyes were closing, not seeing how Oliver was watching you take him so well and how he wished he could etch this image in his mind. You were naked, covered in water and bubble, bare and open for him and only him.

He won't forget it ever in his life.

Oliver, once he was fully inside of you, waited for your to adjust for him as you took a long breath. It was a bit much, almost losing your breath as your thighs trembled under the water and against his own legs. You had to hold onto his neck for some kind of support as his hand under the water grasped one of your thighs. His other unoccupied hand was back out of the water and bracing the wall by your head as he kissed your face over and over.

"Okay?" He asked in a raspy voice, he too was feeling the immense pleasure of your walls keeping him inside of you. You whimpered and nodded your head as he grinned along your cheeks, "Merlin you feel fuckin' good. So…so good."

His hips were moving slowly, with deep hard thrusts that made you moan with each push. His hips were doing most of the work, the thrusts were deep enough and hard enough for you to melt against the wall but enough to make everything shake under your skin as you were taking everything he gave you. Oliver was not going fast, which made you wonder for a split second if he wished to. No, you could tell in how he was going at it that he wanted this to last, not a fast fuck.

"Yes….Merlin Yes…..Oli…FUCK!" You mewled as he hit that spot inside of you, hearing him growl for a moment as he was still fucking you in the tub. His hand that was holding your thigh was in a tight grip, not letting you sink as you clung onto his back of dear life, feeling your nails almost break the skin as your moans were getting louder and more vocal. His rhythm was consistent, not slowing down or going too fast just to drive you insane as you felt that feeling of an intense orgasm come over you again.

"I'm c-close, O-o-liver—" You were moaning into his neck as he huffed and stopped his thrusts. You were about to protest at him, teetering right on the edge of that pleasurable fall when he moved swiftly once again. Still inside of you, he leaned back a bit and scooped you in his arms, moving with ease to have his back against the wall once again and you in his lap. With his cock still buried deep inside of you, he peered up at you and saw the state you were in.

Naked and shaking from pleasure, hair plastered to your neck and backside, eyes wide and unhinged. He reached up, damp hand up to your neck to look at the image before you as he smiled. Being perched over Oliver made you feel almost powerful, untouchable, and yet you were still at his mercy. You too wished to savor this image in your mind forever, knowing you would never be the same.

His thumb traced your lower lip, his hips now moving up and down as his other hand under the water moved to touch your cunt, right over your clit. You keened, leaning over from the shock of pleasure as he gripped your neck and watched you get that high again. With his thumb on your clit, making sharp and small circles and his cock drilling into you, he was watching in utter fascination and wonderment.

"Cum for me," he whispered rapidly against your lips as he kissed you boldly, "I can feel you're close, aren't ya? I wanna feel it, all of it. Please, cum for-"

The orgasm you felt slammed you sideways and made you scream, your body going stiff from the pleasure that was now intensified up and down your body as you rode through every second of it. Oliver saw how your eyes shot wide, your body quivered in the still hot water, and your hands clenched onto his shoulders tight as he thrusts two more times before he too released with a loud moan.

You felt him unload inside of you, spreading inside of you to feel that warmth along your walls and make you moan some more as you collapsed on top of him. He wrapped you in his arms, still riding out his release as he thrust into your a few more times.

The pleasure was no long piping hot but a simmer, you both still shaking and each your breaths as Oliver gathered you in his arms and kissed you all over. You were grateful you were still in the tub, covered in water and bubbles to get some relief. Although he pulled out of you, he never once released you, placing you in his lap and kissing you soundly with a massive grin on his face.

"Merlin's Beard…that was…." You said, still unable to talk as Oliver grinned widely.

"I was thinking the same thing," He murmured, his voice uneven himself as he pressed his forehead against yours, "And to think we could have done this sooner if we weren't thick in the head,"

That made you giggle, curling into him some more as he was keeping you close in his arms. It was true, if you both weren't worried so much about the "what if's" and simply went with what you felt, then you would have this kind of love, this intimacy, way sooner. But life was strange in that way of course bringing you two back together in the aftermath of an almost catastrophic war that would have erased everything you knew and loved.

You decided then and there to live in the moment, leaning up to kiss him hotly.

30 minutes later, you two walked out of the Prefects Bathroom, dried off, and back in your old clothes. Heading back to the Great Hall and the Courtyard, you both walked side by side and held hands between the two of you, trying to hide the still evident flushness and blush on both of your cheeks.

Yet neither one of two saw Professor McGonagall near the Great Hall entrance watch you two walk out together, a knowing smile on her lips as she looked at her two old students and Gryffindor Alumni.

"Took those two long enough," She replied with a soft smile.

The End.

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

#oliver wood x female reader #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood #oliver wood x y/n #fanfiction #writing #oliver wood smut #oliver wood x you #oliver wood imagines #harry potter smut #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter writing #hp fic #hp smut #hp fandom #hp fanfic

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slytherweasley · 2 years ago

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Concussion (Oliver Wood x reader)

Warnings: smut, oral male receiving, swearing

Summary: Oliver gets knocked out after being thrown off his broom by a Slytherin. You stay by his side but his concussion makes him irritable. He’s in so much pain you decide to take care of him.

Oliver lays on the hospital bed still knocked out after being thrown off his broom by a Slytherin at todays game. You sit by his side rubbing his scalp trying to soothe him in hope he will awaken. You were frozen in fear as you watched him fall, you couldn’t get up to see if he was okay until others from the crowd assured you he was alive.

Slowly Oliver’s eyes begin to open, his team mates are also here to show support for their captain. He groans in pain and Madam Pomfrey rushes to his aid. Once the team had given him their best wishes she sent them off so he could have some space.

You stayed by his side the whole time, you tried to cheer him up in every way you could think but he was short with you. “Oli, do you want me to go?” You ask softly “No stay” he says holding your hand firmly “i am in a lot of pain so I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings it’s not my intention” “I know, it’s okay” he reaches up slightly but you meet him with a kiss.

Madam Pomfrey releases him from the hospital wing and gives you everything you need as well as instructions on how to take care of him. He refuses to be wheeled in a wheelchair so you put your arm around him and let him lean on you as you walk to his dorm.

Oliver is well liked which is why it wasn’t a surprise that everyone wanted to talk to him but you tried to get him to his dorm as quick and safely as possible. You finally get him there and into bed “thank you darling” he kisses your forehead as you stack pillows behind him.

Once he is comfortable you organise his meds and everything he needs. “Darling?” He asks “Yes, Oli?” “Can you come cuddle? It will help my pain.”

He makes some space for you and you get into bed with him and try to adjust the pillows but he hits his head on the bed post “fuck” he yells “shit, baby I’m so sorry” you gently rub his head “stop. Just stop” he yells. “I’m sorry, I failed at everything” you mumble “I know you’re trying to help and you’re doing a great job, it’s just these pain meds are only doing so much.”

He pulls you into a hug “you didn’t fail at this, you could never fail at comforting me.” Something about the way he assured you created a solution to help him feel better.

You let go of the hug “I promise I won’t fuck this up” you say “fuck what up?” He asks as you lift his shirt up halfway pressing kisses down his stomach. Your fingers slide into his pants and start to palm him over his underwear “fuck darling” he groans as you feel him getting hard underneath your touch.

Your hand slip underneath his underwear as you begin to jerk him off slowly “feels good” he assures you “I love it when you touch me like this.”

You stop jerking him off to get rid of his pants and underwear letting his dick free. Your spit on his dick letting your saliva run down the base down to his balls “Oh darling, you are going to be the death of me.”

Your lips wrap around the head and you start sucking and swirling your tongue around the head tasting his precum and letting out a moan. Slowly you begin moving further down until your nose hits his mound. Oliver’s moans become louder and needier which makes you incredibly wet but you focus solely on Oliver.

Your hands massage his balls, he goes wild every time you pay attention to his balls. “Fuck darling, that’s it.” You start to move faster on his dick your eyes start to water and drool goes down your chin, you can hear the sounds coming from the back of your throat that Oliver is obsessed with.

“So good for me darling, I’m so close” this prompts you to do everything you can to keep going. “Fuck, I’m really close, you got to pull out if you don’t want me cumming down your throat” he warns but that’s what you want.

“Ah so good darling” he says as he cums in your mouth. You swallow and gently remove your mouth from his dick. “Thank you” he kisses your forehead “so much better than pain meds, do you need me to repay you?” He asks as you help him out his boxers on “No, it’s about you my love, I’ll manage as long as you are okay.”

You lay down carefully beside him facing him with your lips almost touching, he wraps his arms around you. “I don’t deserve you” he mumbles against your lips “yes you do” you close your eyes and lazily kiss him.

#harry potter #hp imagine #smut #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood x you #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood #oliver wood smut #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood angst #oliver wood x female reader #oliver wood imagine

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bl4kstar · 1 year ago

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locker room sex with oliver wood smut

warnings: smut aged up oliver

author note: the things i would let this man do to me is crazy.

Let's first start off with how u got in this position you sitting on the locker room bench legs spread and Oliver eating out your pussy.

To keep it quick cuz I know yall got no attention span and I don't either fr, you were wearing one of Oliver's sweaters to the game and some biker shorts. From some angles, Oliver can really get a look at all that ass. So when you walk into the locker room with Oliver you praise him about his win you started getting touchy and yeah that's how you are in that position currently.

Oliver was really good with his tongue slowly tracing circles over your clit and then sucking. Occasionally he'd raise his eyes up to meet at yours saying, "Feels good hm?" "It does..." "I can tell." Oliver would then let his lips curl into a smirk.

Oliver was the master of edging he knows exactly when to stop and exactly when to let you cum. Whenever you start squirming and your hips buck forward for more attention he stops completely then after like a minute, he goes back. e

ill finish latere

#oliver wood smut #harry potter smut #hp smut #oliver wood sex #locker room sex with oliver wood #smut #smutttt #locker room sex #harry potter #harry potter !8+#18+ fanfic

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mastermindmiko · 2 years ago

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What a relationship with Oliver Wood would look like

pairing: Oliver Wood + fem!reader

word count: 603

summary: Oliver wood’s one secret

trigger warnings: mentions of sex and quickies. 16+ I think that’s it, but let me know if you find anything

my masterlist

Requests are open

Oliver wasn’t a person to keep secrets he almost never had any, but if anyone -except you- asked him, he would flush a deep shade of red and wouldn’t reply.

He had one secret that only you knew. He loves you so much and worships the ground you walk on that after the first time you both had sex, he took your red lacy underwear and kept it.

Oliver is now so sure that it is his lucky charm. When he is during a game you will always find it in his pocket and if he wasn’t playing quidditch you would rarely not find it in his robe.

Till now -thankfully- there had been no complications where your underwear fell out of his pocket while flying. Even though it was his lucky charm, the fact that it was so close to him made him very often distracted.

That's how you realized that quickies would be a common thing in your relationship with him, he so often gets distracted by it that he would just pull you into a near closet in between classes. He would even sometimes call out a half time during a quidditch match and would fuck you senselessly in the locker rooms, because how would he ride a broom with a boner?

#oliverwood #hogwarts #harry potter #imagines #fluff #smut #redlace #gryffindor #quidditch #oliver wood smut #oliverwoodff #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood fluff

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valentineforlemonandcherry · 2 years ago

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Ash & Skylight Part 10

This is currently planned to be a mid-length story between You/Reader, Charlie Weasley, and Oliver Wood.

Summary: All you’ve ever wanted in life was to know where exactly you could plant your feet in the ground and grow into yourself. Clearly, you never meant to fall for a certain ginger-haired, freckly, dragon-chaser called Charlie Weasley. Even moreso, you certainly never meant to invite in a particular overly-competitive, Quidditch fanatic named Oliver Wood into your life. And yet, perhaps there is something to be found in the skies, after all; perhaps there is a bit of promise in risking it all in the wide, blue world above.

[Multi-Post Story] [Charlie Weasley x Reader] [Oliver Wood x Reader] [Warning: If you don’t like sad endings, this one may not be for you.]

Note: Part 10 does not contain any explicit smut. (It’s coming, I promise.)

❂ Click Here for Ash & Skylight Home Page (All Chapter Links) ❂

*Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

True to his promise, over the summer, Oliver bombarded you with so much Puddlemere United clothing and merchandise that your mother finally came to you and asked, in a very worried voice, why you were spending all your money over a sudden obsession with a boyband.

“It’s not a boyband,” you said, as you reached over and slowly took the latest package away from her.

“Then what is it? This – This Puddle - ?”

“Puddlemere United. It’s my friend’s Quidditch team.”

Your mother blinked.

Seeing her confusion, you explained, “It’s a magical sport.”

“Sport? You play a sport?”

“My friend does.”

“And does this ‘friend’ of yours send these things to all of his friends?”

“No. Just – Just me.”

Your mother hesitated.

Oh no, she’s going to ask if he’s my boyfriend, you thought, cringing already.

Instead, your mother asked, “Is he scamming you?”

You stared at her. “What? No, he sends me these things because he’s – we’re very close.”

“Close, huh?” Shrewdly, your mother pointed out, “But there haven’t been any letters attached to these packages.”

“That’s because he’s not very good at writing letters. He did warn me beforehand and he promised me to send me a bunch of stuff instead.”

Your mother frowned. “Sending gifts is easy, though. He sounds like a textbook playboy.”

On this point, you reassured her earnestly, “No, Mum, he’s really, really not.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When your Hogwarts letter arrived, carrying the welcome-back letter and your N.E.W.T results, you were pleasantly surprised with your final marks, but you had to admit you were the slightest bit disappointed when the Head Girl badge didn’t fall out of the envelope. Still, you were able to tuck your letter away with little more than a rueful smile. You were let down, but it didn’t feel as important as it would have even a year ago.

You went down to dinner with your family. The television was on in the background, though none of you were paying attention to it. The announcer was saying, “And now, we have some frightening news. Mass murderer Sirius Black has escaped from prison and is on the run…”

* * * * * * * * * *

It was your first day back at Hogwarts. Gripping your new school schedule in your hand, you made your way up to the faraway classroom of History of Magic.

The corridor was desolate when you arrived. You knew it would be. Few students opted to subject themselves to the wheezy monotone of Professor Binns. In truth, you found it rather relaxing. Besides, you’d always thought that History of Magic was a very important subject because you agreed with the general concept that history was bound to repeat itself.

You settled back, leaning against the wall and waiting for Binns to pop his ghostly head through the classroom door to invite his students in.

However, you heard an unexpected plea from around the corner. “I have to go to class now. I know you don’t like when I leave you, but I need you to understand. Please.”

You frowned. Huh? Why would going to class be a problem for anybody?

You knew it wasn’t any of your business, but your curiosity got the better of you. You walked around the corner of the hallway. “Excuse me, what’s going - ?”

Your sentence cut short as you caught sight of the huge, grumpy white cat who had somehow managed to perch himself on the windowsill of a very high window.

Hannah and Ernie were standing underneath the windowsill, trying to coax Bean to come down so that they could go to class.

“Oh no, not again,” you whisper-groaned to yourself.

Upon hearing you, Hannah and Ernie turned around.

“Oh, hello,” Hannah said. “Bean won’t come down. You remember Bean, don’t you?”

Behind her, Bean was slowly inching towards a potted Mimbulus Mimbletonia.

You paused. What in Merlin’s name is a plant like that doing up there?

Your hesitation cost you, however. In the next second, Bean reached out and swatted happily at the plant.

“Watch out!” You leapt forward, grabbed poor Ernie by the collar of his shirt and yanked him out of the way. Unfortunately, as Ernie was now taller than you, but quite lanky and thin (as he was at that awkward growing age), the way you dragged him forth made him bow his head down. When the pot fell and shattered on the ground, you instinctively turned around at the noise - and poor Ernie ran head-first into your breasts.

“Ah!” he yelled, horrified.

“Hey, what’re you doing? Get off of me!” You immediately shoved him to the ground as hard as you could.

Ernie fell unceremoniously on his butt onto the cold, stone floor, yelling, “Ow!”

“Ernie!” Hannah cried out in concern. She reached for him, but Ernie didn’t notice. He was too busy frantically tamping down his messed-up hair and yelling at you, “What the hell d’you think you’re doing?”

“What d’you mean?” you replied hotly. “I just saved you, you ungrateful twit!”

“I’m not arguing about the fact that you saved me! I’m arguing about the manner in which you did it!”

Your face flushed, but you retorted, “Beggars can’t be choosers!”

Just then, you saw Bean drop back on his hind legs so that he could start batting at the twinkling sun crystal that hung in the window.

“Stop that, you good-for-nothing cat!” you shouted harshly at him. “Get down here!”

Hannah turned to you. In an embarrassed voice, she pleaded with you, “I know he’s a handful, but please don’t be so mean. It’s really unkind of you to say those things to him when he’s just being a cat.”

Taken aback by Hannah’s pure plea, you murmured shamefully, “Sorry. Um, I have a bit of a temper. You’re right, that was mean.”

Bean, who had paused with his paw in mid-air when you yelled at him, took this opportunity to obey – by suddenly dropping down onto your head.

“AH!” you screamed, as you felt tiny, but quite sharp claws digging into your head. “GET OFF OF ME, YOU FAT CAT!”

You violently shook your head back and forth - and Bean went flying. With a thud, Bean hit the wall. He slid down the wall, looking like a squished marshmallow.

All three of you watched as Bean finally flattened out on the floor.

With a reproachful look and a sad little “meow,” he picked himself up and then started to slink away, sticking to the wall as much as he could, obviously depressed.

“Oh, no! Bean!” Hannah went after Bean, with her arms outstretched. Only Bean let out a yowl and streaked down the hallway, leaving Hannah behind.

“Come back! She didn’t mean it!” Hannah chased after her cat.

Ernie glowered at you. “Merlin, Hannah’s bad enough on her own, doting on that stupid chump of a cat. Why do you have to come along and make things worse?”

“Excuse me, I was just trying to help.”

Ernie deadpanned, “Scaring the cat away and making Hannah cry ‘cause of you mean you were. Good job.” Shaking his head, he jogged after Hannah.

Your mouth fell open in helplessness. What was I supposed to do?

A tiny voice in the back of your head whispered knowingly, Well, you could not insult her cat, for starters. You could also do without slamming him into a wall.

With a soft, defeated groan, you went chasing after Ernie, Hannah, and Bean.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ironically, the four of you ended up exactly where you had first met – under the huge willow tree by the Great Lake.

Hannah was standing at the base of the tree, staring up into the leafy branches, trying not to lose sight of the grouchy white fluffball that had somehow sandwiched himself in-between the very top branches. She was murmuring, “Please, Bean. Please come down.”

“Hannah, Bean isn’t coming down because he knows you’ll stay here for him,” Ernie said, tapping his foot impatiently. “You’ve got to take a firm approach, for once. Leave him and he’ll follow you.”

Just then, you joined them at the base of the tree.

Glowering at you, Ernie jerked his head up at Bean. “Maybe you should try apologizing to Bean.”

You sighed. Clasping your hands together, you mumbled without any feeling in your voice, “Bean, I’m so sorry. Bean, won’t you forgive me? I was only – Hey, wait. What’re you - ? Bean? Bean, no!”

All three of you gasped as Bean suddenly leapt to his feet and very nimbly ran the length of the branch until he was at the very tip of the branch, which overlooked the Great Lake. With a small, rebellious “meow,” Bean abruptly dropped from the branch onto a floating piece of driftwood.

Even as you and Hannah gasped, the current was already starting to take Bean away from shore.

“Bean, no!” Hannah shrieked.

“Merlin,” Ernie cursed under his breath.

“Get back here! C’mon, save yourself!” you shouted loudly, waving your arm in the air. “Bean! I know you know what you’re doing, you devil cat!”

Bean merely swished his tail and held his head up high as he floated away from all of you.

With a growl, you cursed, “Damn it, Hannah, is your cat broken? I thought cats hated water!”

“Bean does hate water,” Hannah said, wringing her hands anxiously. “Oh no, oh no – quick, isn’t there any spell that can help us?”

Just then, the driftwood tipped over and with a fearsome yowl, Bean was dumped into the water.

“Too late,” Ernie said wryly.

“BEAN!” Hannah screamed. She raced up to the shoreline and started to take off her cloak.

“Can cats swim?” you asked, looking over at Ernie.

Ernie paused. “Probably.”

You and Ernie looked at each other.

Ernie crossed his arms at you. “You couldn’t have asked the cat to come down nicely. This is your fault, you know.”

With a groan, you hurriedly put down your book bag and stripped off your outer cloak.

“Hannah, stop!” You grabbed Hannah’s arm, as she had been about to dive into the Lake. You gently pushed her away from the shoreline.

“But Bean - !”

“She’s going to go,” Ernie said, nodding at you.

You plunged into the Great Lake. It was September and though the water wasn’t unbearably cold, it was certainly chilly at nine in the morning.

Gritting your teeth, you swam forward, looking for a floating bundle of white fur somewhere in the water. Then, you saw him – Bean was paddling as hard as he could with his paws, but his fur was so heavy that it was pulling him down.

You dove into the water and swam underwater for as long as you could. At one point, you thought you heard a splash behind you, but you couldn’t afford to look – you were focused only on making it to Bean.

Finally, you were able to reach out and grab Bean. You made to pull him towards you, but you’d forgotten to calculate how heavy he was now that his fur was completely wet.

“Mer - !” The rest of your curse was cut off and became an underwater bubble as the weight of Bean took you both down.

For a moment, you couldn’t make anything out except the sound of your own heartbeat and the rush of the water around you.

Then, you felt someone grab your waist and give a tremendous yank upwards –

Splash!

You coughed out loudly.

“Mreow!” Bean let out a choked, angry yowl.

Then, that ever-steady, broad voice sounded out, “I’ve got you!”

Still sputtering, you turned your head to see someone you’d missed all summer, someone you’d been thinking of all summer long, someone you’d wanted to meet when you were dressed nicely and feeling your best, not thrashing about ineffectively in freezing water while looking like a drowned rat.

“O-Oliver?”

“Are you all right?”

You coughed out, “I’m fine.”

Oliver nodded. “Good. Now, let’s get the cat back to shore.”

“He’s heavy.”

“Meow.” Bean seemed to let out a noise of protest. You were sure that in normal circumstances, Bean would have glared at you, with his tail righteously high in the air, but as it was, he was too depressed, what with his magnificent fur being all sopping wet, that he let your comment go with only one protesting meow.

“It should be okay with the both of us,” Oliver said. “C’mon.”

With Oliver’s help, the three of you were able to propel slowly towards shore.

However, when the water became waist-high, you had to pick Bean up out of the water. Your shoulders sagged with the effort. “Godric,” you groaned, “seriously, why are you so heavy?”

Bean, sensing he was close to safety, scratched at your arm.

“Ow! I am trying to help you, you stupid cat!” you reminded Bean.

Ernie suddenly appeared, as he’d stepped forward into the water, too. “I said not to insult her cat,” he said, irritated, as he yanked the cat out of your arms.

Ernie must have been stronger than he looked, because he was able to grab hold of Bean with one arm and push you back into the water with his other hand.

“Ah!” You made a big splash as you landed back into the water butt-first.

“Oi, what d’you think you’re doing?” Oliver yelled at Ernie.

“Oh, sorry,” Ernie said airily, as he handed Hannah back her sopping wet cat. “Hand slipped.”

You growled at Ernie, but the next minute, you felt warm hands slip under your shoulders and pick you up out of the water.

Oliver set you on your feet.

You turned your head and looked up at him. He’d changed a little, over the summer. His brow seemed more set, somehow, and there was a suggestion of stubble on his jaw. You hesitated. But then, your eyes met his, and you saw it – that careful concern, that puppyish-ness hiding behind his more straightforward expression.

You smiled. “Hi, Oliver,” you said warmly.

Oliver seemed a bit confused, but the corner of his lips tugged up when he heard the warmth in your voice.

When you stepped closer to him, he brought his arm around your waist and the two of you walked out of the water together.

Meanwhile, Hannah had taken off her cloak and wrapped Bean in it. “You’re okay now. You don’t have to be scared anymore, Bean. I didn’t abandon you, and you don’t have to run away.”

She made her way to Hagrid’s, to ask if he might have anything to cheer up a grumpy, water-logged cat. Ernie went with her, of course. As they left, you heard Ernie say exasperatedly, “Hannah, you’ve really got to train your cat properly. It’s way too attached to you.”

“What was all that about?” Oliver asked you, now that the two of you were out of the water.

“Oh, it’s silly.” You sighed a little, as you pushed your soaked hair out of your face. “I was trying to apologize to the cat and he ran away.”

“Why? What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. Well, maybe I was a bit mean…”

Oliver cocked his head at you, as he tried to figure out what you were saying.

“Wait,” you said suddenly, “why are you out here, instead of in class?”

“Free period.”

You eyed Oliver most skeptically.

“We’re seventh years now, remember?” Oliver said, immediately recognizing the disbelief in your gaze.

“And?” you questioned.

“Well, I didn’t sign up for any morning classes, except Transfiguration. That leaves most of my mornings free for Quidditch practice.”

“Oliver, you never lacked time to practice,” you pointed out. “You can practice as much as you want after class. And you practiced all summer.”

Oliver shook his head. “No, other teams book the pitch after class. And this summer only showed me how much more I have to learn. I have to get better.”

“At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if you turned into a Snitch yourself,” you said to Oliver sternly. But you were only teasing.

Oliver teased you back, nudging your shoulder with his. “Hey, you should be grateful that I was practicing. I was flying over the pitch when I saw someone in the Great Lake. Didn’t imagine that someone to be you, though.”

“Believe me,” you said sullenly, “this was not what I had in mind for this morning, either.”

Oliver grinned. “I didn’t think it was. You know, for how fit you are, you’re amazingly resistant to physical activity.”

“What?”

Oliver mused, “If I’d been born with your natural strength, I’d have been able to send Flint flying in that last match against Slytherin…” A sharp glint appeared in his eye and Oliver made a sudden movement with his shoulders, as if slamming an imaginary person sideways.

“You did slam him,” you reminded Oliver. “Madam Hooch gave Slytherin a free throw for that.”

Oliver shook his head violently. “Terrible call. Completely biased. Y’know, I sometimes wonder if she’s got a thing for Snape. That’s the only explanation I can come up with that explains why she can’t get her head out of her ass.”

You stared at Oliver exasperatedly. However, as you did, you noticed that Oliver’s white training shirt had been soaked through and the fabric was sticking to his body. When he moved, the cloth rippled along with his muscles. He was fine, this boy.

“What? You’re not siding with Slytherin, are you?” Oliver demanded, when he realized you weren’t looking at his face anymore.

You swallowed. “No. You were right. Gryffindor was right.”

“You sure you’re all right? You look like… I don’t know, like you swallowed too much water or something.”

You flushed. “I’m fine, Oliver. I’m just a little cold.”

“Oh, I have some extra clothes in the locker room,” Oliver offered. “Come with me.”

* * * * * * * * * *

You and Oliver showered in separate stalls. When you stepped out of the stall, you saw that Oliver had left you some of his Gryffindor Quidditch clothing.

Once you’d dressed, you walked over to the doorway, where Oliver was already waiting. He was staring out at the Quidditch pitch, once again looking up at the golden hoops.

You let him have his moment, not wanting to disturb him. But when he sensed your presence and turned towards you, you reached up and softly patted the back of his hair.

“Your hair’s still wet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Oliver shrugged. “I just let it be. I figure it’ll dry on its own.”

You smiled lightly. “That’s not wrong, but you could get a cold, Oliver.”

“I never have before.”

“Yes, you have,” you reminded him. “You got all feverish and collapsed on me. Remember? I had to help you back up to the castle.”

“Did you…?”

“Yes,” you said, with certainty.

“When?”

“Last year.”

Oliver frowned, puzzled. Then, he recalled, “Was that the time you tried to visit me with a bag of chocolates?”

“I – um – No, that was the time I saved you,” you said, suddenly finding yourself caught off-guard.

“Yeah, but the next day you came up with a bag of chocolates, right?” Oliver looked down at you earnestly, as if he was really trying to remember.

Not wanting to admit it, since it was far before you started dating, and yet not wanting to lie to him if he really was trying to remember, you just stood there, blushing and looking away from him. “No – It was the house-elves – They said they could only do a – a heart imprint so…”

Oliver watched you. After a moment, he murmured, “Is it hard for you to admit that you liked me back then?”

Your heart fluttered when he said that – you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because his voice dropped into a lower register that made him sound so protective and kind, all at once, or maybe it was because he was reaching out and gently pushing back a strand of your hair from your face.

You murmured, “Well, when I let it slip that I had tried to visit you with chocolates, you stared at me like I had horns coming out of my head.”

Oliver nodded, remembering. “I couldn’t believe it. You were so cute. You were getting all flustered over having tried to bring chocolates to me.”

You started to turn away from Oliver (fed up not by him, but by your own embarrassment), but you glimpsed how Oliver’s face fell – only the slightest bit, mind you, still, you caught the beginnings of his puppy eyes starting to come into play.

Ah, no. I didn’t mean to deny it, Oliver… I just… Before you could stop yourself, you turned back around, leaned in, and quick as a butterfly, you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek before falling back.

Oliver blinked, surprised. “What was that for?”

“Oh… Just a small hello, after a summer apart,” you made up.

“Oh,” Oliver breathed out. He stood there, perfectly still, and made no move to kiss you back.

You paused. Should I not have done that? I thought at the end of the year last year, we were naturally becoming a little more intimate. But maybe I’m remembering it wrong… Does Oliver feel awkward around me? You uncertainly ran your fingertip along the etching of his shirt over the side of his arm as you wondered, “I know you were really busy at the training camp, and you’ll have to tell me about everything you learned at camp later, ‘cause I want to know. But… well, did you think of me at all?”

Oliver looked at you funnily, as if surprised by your question. “Didn’t you get all the stuff I sent you?”

“Oh yes, I did,” you reassured him. “I own more Puddlemere United clothes than anything else now.”

“Well,” Oliver said confidently, “that’s how it should be.” He reached up, and the motion left your hand stranded in mid-air, for his arm had bent so that you could no longer run your finger up and down the side of his arm.

You started to draw your hand away, but before you could take your hand away, Oliver’s hand came up and caught yours.

You smiled, immediately feeling so pleased as Oliver's fingers folded over the back of your hand and his palm pressed warmly up against yours. You could feel the calluses on his hands. You marveled at the roughness of his hand and once again thought both proudly and wistfully of having hands that bore indicators of a deep, significant dream.

“I’ll walk you back up to the castle?” Oliver murmured. It came out as a question.

You looked up at him curiously, wondering why he always asked you this when the last thing on your mind was that he would somehow become further from you.

“Sure, that would be nice,” you replied. “Oh, and when we’re on our way up, maybe you could help me find a reed or leafy branch.”

“What for?”

“Just something Bean might want to play with,” you explained. “I reckon I need to go apologize to him properly.”

Oliver stared at you, wondering what in the world could have started this feud between you and this specific cat.

“C’mon then,” you said. With a tug, you pulled Oliver out of the Quidditch locker rooms and out onto the autumnal Hogwarts grounds.

* * * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile, poor Neville Longbottom was staring sadly at his fallen plant. He wondered how this could have happened. He had Levitated his plant up on that high windowsill to keep it safe and make sure it would get the sunlight it needed.

* * * * * * * * * *

You did, in fact, find a big leafy branch. Carrying it in your hand (which earned you a lot of snickers from the other students), you went up to the Hufflepuff common room. There, you were able to find Hannah and Ernie. Bean was there, too, lounging on Hannah’s lap. He was wearing a merry knitted yellow sweater that clashed magnificently with his cheerless face.

You stopped in front of Hannah. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how mean I was to Bean. Here’s my, uh, peace offering.” You held out the branch, rather embarrassed. “If he’ll, um, accept it.”

Ernie let out an unimpressed snort. It took all your willpower not to turn around and conk the boy on the top of his head with your fist.

Hannah looked up at you. For a moment, you were unsure of how she would react, but she suddenly beamed brightly – and it was like a light bulb turning on.

Merlin, you thought to yourself, as you saw Hannah’s smile spread over her pink cheeks. How can she be so cute?

“Thanks!” Hannah reached out and took the branch. “And I know you were trying to help. It’s just that Bean can be a bit sensitive when it comes to people’s tones. He used to have an owner that spoke badly of him all the time, so I feel a bit protective over him when it comes to stuff like that.”

“Oh. Um, I’m sorry again.”

“No worries! Thank you,” Hannah said, still smiling warmly at you.

With a nod, you turned away, feeling relieved that you had paid your dues.

Just then, however, you heard a loud hiss, and scratch!

“Ow!”

“Bean!”

As soon as you had turned around, Bean had reached out one paw, slightly constrained by the yellow sweater he’d been shoved into, but still dexterous enough, to claw viciously at the back of your upper thigh.

You whirled around and seethed at him.

“Sorry!” Hannah cried out, and she quickly shoved Bean down into her lap, making sure all four of his limbs were caught between her arms. It was an unsettling sight to see Bean’s gigantic head bulging out like that.

On the other side of the table, Ernie guffawed.

Your chest puffed out in anger. Only, seeing Hannah’s big, apologetic eyes, you tamped down your rage and instead stormed away, but you knew, you just fucking knew, that you would forever hate this cat and he would forever hate you.

* * * * * * * * * *

Every day, regardless of whether it was a weekday or weekend, Oliver got up at five o’clock in the morning. Six o’clock was sleeping in for him. In contrast, you normally woke up at eight thirty at the earliest and, when left to your own devices, you usually awoke around eleven in the morning.

However, towards the end of last year, you’d formed a habit of waking up at six o’clock, just to come down into the Gryffindor common room, where Oliver would be flipping through the sports section of the newspaper or studying new plays to try out, and you’d flop over onto his lap or snuggle into his side and fall back asleep.

To Oliver’s great happiness, you continued this ritual, picking up from the very first morning you were both back at Hogwarts.

This time, you even managed a bit of conversation. You sleepily leaned over the couch and wrapped your arms around Oliver’s shoulders from behind him. Then, burying your face against his neck, you yawned and mumbled tiredly, “What’re you looking at?”

Oliver replied, “Well, you know how we found that Slytherin playbook last year? In the shed.”

You nodded tiredly, not bothering to lift your head.

“I’ve memorized it all, and now I’m coming up with counterplays for each and every one,” Oliver said proudly. Pleased with himself, he pointed to the sketchbook he was holding in his other hand and explained, “See, there? That’s the Chasers, forming a U to counterattack the Slytherin’s ‘cannonball’ attack. The idea is that the Chasers surround the Slytherin team and loop them in before they can attack.”

“Hm… And where are the Beaters?” you wondered.

“The Beaters? Oh, I haven’t drawn them in yet, but…” Oliver’s words trailed off as you suddenly fell over the couch and right into his lap. Resting your head against his shoulder and still hugging his neck, you sleepily brought your legs up so that you were curled all around him. As you snuggled into him, you murmured, “Well, until you figure out where to place me, I’ll be right here… with the – the Keeper…” With that, you dropped off to sleep again.

Oliver went back to his playbook, but after he turned the page, his hand came to rest naturally on your thigh.

Is that a scratch…? He noticed a thin, angry, puffed-up line on the back of your thigh, only visible because of how you were curled up around him.

Hm. Doesn’t look too bad, though, thankfully. He slowly began to smooth over the small line with his thumb.

Her skin feels so smooth… She’s all warm and like… And her thigh’s so strong. She really would make a hell of an athlete, if she wanted to be… ‘Course, she’s cute the way she is – How did she describe herself? As an ‘intellectual’?

Oliver smiled fondly as he continued to softly rub your thigh with his thumb. He remembered that night you’d gotten a bit tipsy. He’d taken you up to bed and made sure you changed and drank water. Before you fell asleep, you’d asked him why he didn’t drink. He had replied that it was bad for athletes to drink alcohol, at which point you seemed to become worried for your kind, as you wondered about whether it was okay to drink as an intellectual…

Whether it was random or because he was touching your thigh, Oliver wasn’t sure, but the next moment, you mumbled out, “Oliver…” and you brought your leg up just a bit higher, so that Oliver’s hand slipped down even further up your thigh. His hand pushed up the pajama shorts you were wearing and for a moment, he glimpsed –

Oliver blushed. He hurriedly pulled down the side of your shorts to cover your panties back up. He then turned back to his playbook and tried to visualize where the Beaters would be of most use in this play…

With the Keeper, his mind whispered.

That’s rubbish, he told himself. It’s cute when she says it to you. It’s just nonsense when you say it to yourself.

Only, his mind was wandering and he couldn’t help except to think of the other times he’d glimpsed your panties. One, when you were slipping out of his Puddlemere United shirt and into his Gryffindor Captain shirt. Two, when you were sitting on top of the Quidditch trunk, with your thighs shaking ever so slightly. Three, when you’d been half-sitting on the ground and half-leaning over him, telling him that he could moan for you while you kissed him…

Oliver’s blush deepened. His hand twitched and nearly drifted back up your thigh, but he instead did the gentlemanly thing and took his hand away.

But just then, you mumbled out, “Oh, but Oliver…”

Oliver paused. Is she dreaming about me? He stopped even pretending to study his playbook and openly looked down at you.

He couldn’t quite make out your face, as you’d snuggled up tightly against his shoulder, but he heard you loud and clear as you murmured, “You really think you can get away with scamming me?”

Oliver blinked, startled. Huh? What’s she dreaming about?

“I don’t – No, I don’t want – I don’t wanna buy any more cat jumpers…” With that, you let out a light snore and then, shifting slightly, you pressed your warm, soft mouth against Oliver’s neck.

As you breathed lightly against him, and each breath felt like a whisper of a kiss, Oliver found himself increasingly unable to focus on the playbook.

Finally, he slipped his arms under you and, with a bit of effort, stood up from the couch.

He started to head over to the staircase leading to the girls’ dormitory, when he realized he couldn’t go up the staircase by himself.

It’s too early for anyone to be in the common room, he realized. However, he did notice someone’s toad hopping about the common room. He used his foot to gently guide the toad to the staircase. Once the toad had hopped up the staircase a ways, Oliver tried his luck. To his amazement, the staircase held. Oliver squinted down at the toad. He had discovered what five generations of Longbottoms, including Neville, had not – that the family toad was actually a female.

* * �� * * * * * * * *

When Oliver started to put you back into bed, he found that you were clutching onto him in your sleep. He finally lay down on your bed with you, so as not to wake you. You mumbled something and pressed closer to him, even gently sliding your leg up onto his hip.

Oliver breathed in slowly. He carefully began to reach over, to gently touch your cheek, when you suddenly turned away, but opened up your arms so that your hand went thunk right on his chest.

“Ow!” Oliver whisper-grunted. He hurriedly pulled away from you.

You seemed to wake up for a moment. You stared up at Oliver with dazed, sleepy eyes. “Huh? What’d you - ? No…” Then, you fellover and went right back to sleep.

Massaging his chest, Oliver gave you a hurt glare. But seeing that you were sleeping again, in your Puddlemere United shirt, no less, his gaze softened. He came over to you and gave you the softest kiss on the top of your head before he made his way back down to practice.

* * * * * * * * * *

You were a bit disappointed to find yourself waking up in your own bed. Usually, Oliver woke you up before he headed off to practice.

Maybe I was sleeping too heavily and he didn’t want to wake me, you thought. Or wait, did he wake me up? I remember vaguely him standing in my dorm room… Did I talk to him? Or did I dream all of that up? Aw, I can’t remember.

Yawning, you headed down to breakfast, not even bothering to change out of your pajama shirt. Oh, I’ll come back up and dress properly afterwards, you thought. No need to keep up false appearances. It’s not like I’m a prefect anymore or Head Girl. So, down you went, with bed hair and in your pajama shirt.

* * * * * * * * * *

At breakfast, you saw Oliver, sitting with Katie and Alicia. As soon as you entered the Great Hall, Oliver spotted you. He raised his hand and waved at you. You paused, as you wanted to go sit next to him. But, catching yourself, you simply nodded back at him.

Then, you made your way to where Corina, Alexander, and Charlotte were sitting. You didn’t see how Oliver’s face fell the slightest bit when he saw you turn away from him.

After the four of you had traded stories over what you’d done over the summer, Charlotte turned to you and asked, “Romilda Vane wants to know: Are you really dating Oliver Wood?”

“Huh?”

“She’s got a huge crush on Oliver, but she said she wouldn’t have a go at him if he was seeing anyone. I said he was seeing you, but she wouldn’t believe me.” “Why not?”

“She says she never sees the two of you together.”

You scoffed. “Well, unless she lives in my bed and my shower. I don’t want to hear it.”

Charlotte and Corina looked at each other.

Then, in a teasing voice, Charlotte said, “In your bed and shower? Does that mean…?”

“No!” you blurted out, suddenly realizing what you’d said, what you might have implied. “I only meant that she has no right to assume anything!”

Alexander shot an impressed look over at Oliver.

You reached over and pushed his face away. “It’s not what you think!”

“Well, I’ll tell Romilda that Oliver is already occupied,” Charlotte said, smirking.

“No, really! It’s not like that. We haven’t even done anything yet,” you confessed.

“Anything?” Corina said, surprised. She looked over at Oliver. “Does he not do anything for you? Even with a body like that?”

“His face isn’t half-bad, either,” Charlotte observed agreeably.

Alexander shot Oliver another look, sizing him up. “A good-looking bloke,” he surmised.

“Really, stop,” you said, blushing effusively. “It’s just that he’s – he’s focused on other things right now. And I like that about him. He’s passionate. He’s focused. And no one – neither Romilda nor I – should get in the way of that.”

“Of course,” Corina said kindly. “We’re only teasing. Don’t worry about it.”

Don’t worry about it…? Don’t worry about what? You sighed. I know myself. I connect with people through physical touch. It’s a huge part of what intimacy is for me. But what if it’s not for Oliver? I’ve got to learn to give him his space. Right. Okay. You nodded to yourself. I can do that. No big deal.

* * * * * * * * * *

After breakfast, you started to head back up to your room, to get changed into proper school attire. However, at the Great Hall entrance, the Weasley twins suddenly rushed in, shouting with laughter, and followed by Filch, who was brandishing his broom at them and shouting incoherent obscenities.

You successfully jumped back to avoid Fred and George, but when Filch ran by, you found yourself pushed around by the other students ducking to avoid his broom.

Feeling a book push into your stomach, you groaned, “Oof!” and stepped back – right into someone else.

“Sorry!” You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with Oliver. Standing beside him were Katie and Alicia.

“Oh…”

“Stop running in circles!” Filch bellowed – and that was the cue for Fred and George to rush past everyone once again and exit the Great Hall.

The whole crowd shifted once again. You instinctively grabbed Oliver’s arm. For just a moment, you were pressed up against his arm. With a small gasp, you hurriedly pushed yourself onto your tip-toes to avoid getting your face smushed into Oliver’s shoulder. You managed to slip your chin onto Oliver’s shoulder.

Oliver was still looking down at you, and his eyes met yours as you were pressed into him.

You blinked. Oh no, you thought, I think he just heard me gasp. It was unintentional, but it sounded a bit… And I’m holding onto his arm so tightly. Katie and Alicia are right there… I should let go of him. Even if we’re in a jostling crowd, this isn’t natural, is it?

Oliver tried to reach out to you, to wriggle his arm through the other students pressed in all around you, but before he could do so, you had already stepped back.

“Sorry,” you murmured, in a voice so soft Oliver barely heard you. Then, half-ducking down and half-shoving the person next to you out of the way, you somehow managed to follow Filch out of the Great Hall.

Sorry? Oliver thought numbly, still swaying on his feet as the crowd poured out of the Great Hall after Filch. For what?

He could somehow still feel you wrapped around his arm, and when he’d looked down, and seen you slide your head onto his shoulder and gasp a little, you’d been so… so cute… And had it just been his imagination, or had he felt your bare breasts, pressed against his arm through your soft t-shirt?

“Oliver! Hey, Oliver!”

Alicia and Katie were waving at him at the entrance.

“C’mon!” Katie yelled. “Are we going to try out your plays or what?”

“I’ve only got one free period, so we’ve only got about an hour!” Alicia warned.

“Oh, yeah… Yeah!” Remembering that he’d just suggested new plays to them, Oliver found his head again and galloped towards the doors, eager to try them out with his teammates, as he’d been wanting to do all summer.

* * * * * * * * * *

Finally, you got changed and went to class. You had a free period after second period, so you and Corina went to the library. The two of you began to plan study schedules for the term. However, once you’d set your schedule and you actually needed to begin studying, you found yourself feeling… Well, it was hard to concentrate, for some reason.

Finally, you said good-bye to Corina and left the library.

Without thinking about it very much, you started to make your way down to the Quidditch pitch when –

“Ah!” You nearly ran straight into Oliver in the entryway.

“Whoa.” Oliver reached out and caught your arm. “Careful there.”

“Oliver? What are you doing here?” you said. “I thought you meant to practice every morning until lunch.”

“Well, I – I did, but it - ” Oliver’s face slowly pinkened. “It was too cold. So I came inside.”

You didn’t believe him for a second. But before you could point out his blushing face, Oliver asked you, “Anyhow, aren’t you supposed to be in the library? What are you doing out here?”

“Ah, that…” You paused.

Seeing your jumper bunch up around up over your hips, Oliver tugged it down back to your waist. “Were you coming to see me?”

Watching his hand pull gently at your jumper, you murmured, “Well, yes, but only because the library was – was getting too stuffy.” You looked up at him. “Come to think of it, maybe it was because the jumper was too much.”

“Probably,” he agreed. “It’s winter gear made for players, so…”

“It wasn’t made for a lazy bum sitting on her arse in the school library?” you queried.

Oliver chuckled. “Maybe not.” He reached out and touched your jumper again. “Still… It fits you… quite well…” For a brief moment, his hand slipped under them hem of the jumper. “Oh...” He quickly made to pull his hand away, but, quick as a snake, you reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Oliver.”

“Hm?” Oliver seemed determined not to look at you.

You got onto your tip-toes and tried to peer into his face. You were rather desperate to know if he might possibly feel for you even a little of what you were overwhelmingly feeling towards him...

He still had his face turned away; however, you could make out the pink tips of his ears.

“Oliver…” you murmured again.

“What?” He still wouldn’t look at you.

“…Oliver…” you whispered.

Oliver stiffened slightly. His hands had somehow come to grip your waist, btu he was almost holding you away from him, while you were on your tip-toes and leaning forward to try to see his expression. Still, he murmured back, as steadily as he could, “What is it?”

You put your hands on his shoulders. Oliver became even stiffer and he turned his head away from you completely.

Your hands slipped over his jersey and you ended up gently pushing him backwards until you’d cornered him against the wall, while on your tip-toes and with your fingertips barely touching the wall behind him.

Oliver was holding onto your hip tighter than ever, but he was still looking away from you. You could see how pink his neck and ears were, however.

“Are you uncomfortable?” you asked him.

“No,” he said, but his voice was short.

“Hm… Are you sure? It doesn’t feel weird?” you asked, leaning into him a bit more. You wished he would look at you. You were truly curious as to what he was thinking.

“Is what weird?”

“Well… That I’m all pressed up against you… like this.” Now that you were leaning into him, you could lift your arms and hug him – which you did. You gently squeezed his shoulders in your arms. Then, leaning in, you nudged his cheek with your nose, clearly signaling that you wanted to see his face.

“Please?” you finally said, and you knew he knew what you were asking for. Please tell me how you’re feeling.

Oliver turned his head and finally looked at you.

“So?” you asked him again. “Does it feel weird?”

Oliver confessed, “A little.”

“Ah.” Your eyes dropped from his and you made to fall back onto your feet. “Well, that’s okay, then. Thanks for telling me.”

Hugging you tighter around your waist, Oliver hurriedly followed up with, “But I don’t mind it. That is, I don’t mean that you should stop. I like... feeling you close to me.”

You hesitated, trying to make sure that he wasn’t just looking out for your feelings. “You do? Why?”

Oliver shrugged, “I don’t know. I just like you.”

You cocked your head at him.

“Sorry,” he said, frowning a little. “I’m not great at conversations.”

You smiled. “That’s fine,” you said brightly. “I’m glad to hear you’re okay with me being around you, Oli - ”

You didn’t get to say his name for a fourth time, because Oliver had finally leaned in and kissed you.

“Ah…!” A soft, happy gasp left you as Oliver squeezed your waist so tightly it almost hurt. The two of you had already been standing close together, but now, your hips were pressed flush against his. And you’d already been hugging him, but now you flung your arms around his shoulders so enthusiastically that you knocked yourself off-balance. It didn’t matter, however, because Oliver was so sturdy and he had such a tight hold on you, that you only shifted within the confines of his embrace. You were happy that you could rely on him to keep your balance, so that you could lose yourself in the wonderful feeling of getting lost in kissing him. Because when Oliver kissed you like this, you melted on the spot.

You still remembered the first time Oliver had kissed you – in the middle of the street in Hogsmeade, after you’d gotten so anxious you’d ran out on him in the middle of the date. You recalled how terrified you had felt to receive such a slow, tender, and growing kiss. As shy and inexperienced as Oliver was, there was something about his nature that was so steady that it made you nervous because it meant that you were being seen and that every part of you was being noticed by him – like where you stood in the stands at Quidditch games or whether or not you were in class on a particular day – and you couldn’t escape that feeling when he was with you like this.

And the warmth of it all was indescribable, not just in a romantic sense, but in a physical sense as well. You didn’t really understand his point of view, but from your perspective, to go from being clammy and cold in the library to jump into his arms and be able to press yourself against him, when his entire body was radiating with heat from his practice, was heaven. His lips and mouth, too, were especially warm when they were so sweetly pressed up against yours.

You kissed him back, barely able to contain your joy as you reciprocated his touches and kisses, his affection for you, which you had been hungry for, but cautious of asking for.

Just then, footsteps could be heard around the corner. Oliver didn’t seem to notice, but he felt your gentle sigh against his lips and he broke away at once.

“What?” he said worriedly. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no,” you replied, a bit breathlessly. “It’s just that I can hear people coming this way.”

“Oh.”

You looked at Oliver curiously. “You didn’t hear them?”

Oliver shook his head. He reached out and put his hand on your stomach as he said quietly, “I wasn’t hearing much of anything, if I’m honest, except maybe you…”

You laughed softly. Reaching down and catching his hand in yours, you whispered, “My stomach growling, you mean?”

Oliver smiled, but his voice was low and serious as he murmured, “No, not your stomach. Your breathing. You were all hurried, rushed, and like… As if you…” His eyes fell onto your lips again. “…wanted more…”

Your heart skipped a beat. Trying to fight against your instinct to leap on top of him and kiss his face all over, you whispered rather hoarsely, “Do you have to go back to practice?”

Oliver wordlessly shook his head.

“Okay, good. Come with me.” You took Oliver’s hand and you tugged him all the way back up to Gryffindor Tower.

* * * * * * * * * *

Out on the Hogwarts grounds, Hannah and Ernie had just finished Care of Magical Creatures and were walking by the Herbology greenhouse when, through the glass wall, Hannah spotted Neville nursing a very familiar plant.

Hannah popped her head in through the greenhouse door. “Neville?”

“Oh, hi, Hannah.” Neville got up nervously and tried to hide the fact that he had slime on his cheek from his plant.

“What are you doing?” Hannah asked curiously.

“Oh – that – well, I’m trying to help my Mimbulus Mimbletonia.”

“Why? What’s happened to it?”

From behind her, Ernie called out, “Listen, Hannah, I can’t stand the stink on my clothes any longer. I’ll see you back at the castle.”

“Okay,” Hannah agreed. Then, turning back to Neville, she said, “Did something happen to it?”

“Yeah. I put it up on that big window on the sixth-floor corridor so it could get some sunlight. But I must not have put it up there properly, because when I came back, I found it all smashed up on the floor.”

Hannah gasped. That’s why the plant looks so familiar!

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hands. “Neville, I’m so, so sorry. That was my fault!”

“Huh?” Neville looked up at her in surprise. “What could you have done?”

“It was my cat, Bean. He got up onto that windowsill. He knocked over your plant. I’m sorry, Neville.”

“Oh.” Neville shook his head and said kindly, “Then it’s not your fault.”

“Well, it is. I didn’t teach Bean properly.”

“But Bean’s a cat,” Neville replied. “He was just doing what cats do.”

At this, Hannah lit up. She shuffled closer to Neville. “So, you don’t think Bean’s a bad cat?”

“No, of course not.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Hannah paused. She watched Neville gently wrap one of the Mimbulus Mimbletonia’s limbs with a tiny bandage.

“I’ll help you heal your plant,” Hannah promised.

Neville looked up at her. He hadn’t managed to wipe off the plant goo on his cheek, but his smile was bright nonetheless as he replied happily, “Thanks, Hannah. Thanks very much.”

Tagged Users: @imma-too-many-fandoms @saltstacks

#fanfic #fanfiction #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood smut #oliver wood #ash & skylight #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut

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localnerdforsteveharrington · 1 year ago

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Hey all, feel free to send in more requests. I’m currently at day 21 x

Kinktober

Hi everyone, so this year I decided to do Harry Potter/ Marauders Era kinktober and was hoping you could all send in requests based on the options below, I will also accept if you want two or three characters, thanks xx

Reminder: this is all 16+ as that is there legal age in the uk and since I live here, I’m going by the rules here. Thanks hope you guys enjoy xx

Character suggestions:

Marauders Era -

James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, Mary McDonald, Marlene McKinnon and Regulus Black.

Golden Era -

Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Lorenzo Berkshire, Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger, Oliver Wood, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Charlie Weasley and Neville Longbottom.

Kink suggestions:

praise, thigh riding, squirting, hate sex, innocence kink, daddy/mommy kink, dacryphilia, sir/master kink, corruption kink, threesome, overstimulation, edging, exhibitionism, voyuerism, biting, knife kink, marking kink, spanking, car sex, somnophilia, degradation, temperature play, cockwarming, possessiveness, size kink, masterbation, breeding kink, safeword, begging, choking.

Trope suggestions:

only one bed, criminal, supernatural, neighbour, dilf/milf, mob, bodyguard, ceo, coffee shop, florist, modern, college, royalty, pornstar, mutual pining, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, dadsbestfriend, bestfriends!parent, fairytale, horror/slasher.

Note: you can supply your own kink or trope if you don’t see it listed and you can also pick more than one but one of them will be considered main so there are enough days.

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lilithslittleworld · 6 months ago

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Masterlist <3 (By Fandom, character, and type)

Just a little reminder link to my character list and that requests are open!!

Twilight Saga:

Quileute Pack

Seth Clearwater:

Formal Crushing (fluff, oneshot)

Jacob Black:

New Moon if Edward had never come back (Chapters)

New To This (fluff, smut Jacob x Reader oneshot)

Cullens

Alice Cullen:

Our Little Secret (Alice x Bella smut)

Bella Swan/Cullen:

Our Little Secret (Bella x Alice smut)

Headcanons:

How Bella’s (and Alice’s) Graduation Party Actually Went (or should’ve gone): (headcanons)

Divergent Series:

Peter Hayes

All For You (smut, angst, some fluff. oneshot)

Jeanine Matthews

The Exception (fluff and angst oneshot)

Four/Tobias Eaton

Intruder (Four x reader smut, oneshot)

His Girl (Four x reader fluff, oneshot)

Character Headcanons:

How The Divergent Characters Would React To You Being Injured\In Pain (angst, fluff, headcanon)

Harry Potter Universe:

Weasleys

Fred Weasley:

Ambulo Aqua (Fred x fem reader, fluff)

Harry Potter Guys

Oliver Wood

Locker Room Tales (Oliver x gender neutral reader, fluff)

Harry Potter

The Chosen One (Harry x reader, smut)

Marauders era

Remus Lupin

What Better Way to Relax Than Sex? (Remus x fem reader, smut)

Harry Potter Headcannons

Doing It With The Harry Potter Characters Is Like (smut headcannons)

Top Gun Fandom:

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Hanging In There Series: Part 1 Jake "Hangman" Seresin Hanging In There Series: Part 1

The Hunger Games Series

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oncethrown · 9 months ago

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Steganography Cut 2

Oliver wonders, as he turns to settle his back against the arm of the couch, spreads his legs, and pulls Percy between them, if Percy is finally starting to realize that his lack of sexual history is not a humiliating secret, or an embarrassing deficiency, but one of the hotter things Oliver has ever experienced.

Percy might be able to do complicated spells that Oliver's never even heard of, he may be able to organize several critical political schedules in his head, he may be one of the only students to ever get 12 OWL's, but he does not understand anything about his own body. It's like he's lived his life operating his body by remote. As though he has no instinctual command over it, and never expected it to communicate back to him.

Thankfully, Oliver is a great coach.

Percy lets out a shaky sigh as Oliver pulls him back against his chest, then slowly runs his palms from Percy's shoulders, down his chest and as far over his thighs as he can, catching the little shivers that run through Percy's body as he starts to think about what's being promised.

"Do you want—" Percy starts, but Oliver shushes him.

"Just relax and watch your music videos, Perce. You don't have to do anything but let me touch you."

Percy doesn't relax, and Oliver grins against the side of his head. Percy never just relaxes. So Oliver grazes his hands over Percy's clothes, petting him more than anything else until finally, gradually, Percy lets his weight sink back onto Oliver.

"There you go," Oliver whispers, dipping his palms under the loose hem of Percy's tee shirt, letting a whole music video pass as he does nothing more than slide his hands across the velvet of Percy's lower belly, and up to feel where his bottom rib sticks just a little out of his torso. He's been stressed lately, and not eating well.

Percy presses back and lets a sigh escape him as Oliver thumbs over a nipple, and twists against Oliver just a little while Oliver brushes it until it buds, then trails his hands down to Percy's sides. He's ticklish there and he shudders when Oliver brushes his fingertips over them.

Oliver moves lazily between Percy's sensitive nipples and his tickling sides. When he starts to feel the muscles in Percy's back tensing and releasing with the movement of his fingers, Oliver sets his palm to the back of Percy's neck and pushes him forward just enough to have the space to take Percy's shirt, and then his own off and throw them over the back of the couch. Percy groans when Oliver pulls him back down and heat blossoms between them where their skin touches. He wraps his arms around Percy's waist and kisses his neck while he squirms.

"Oliver," Percy gasps.

"Hmm?"

"What do you want?"

"This, Percy, exactly this," Oliver answers, grinning to himself as he loads up the big gun, "You're doing so well."

A deep groan escapes Percy and Oliver drops his head to reward it with a light bite to the side of Percy's neck. The way Percy reacts to being told he's doing a good job is so hot it's stupid. Oliver hasn't jerked off to anything but the fantasy of Percy kneeling between this thighs while Oliver praises his mouth in weeks.

Percy's head lolls back, laying bare the pale column of his throat and Oliver sets his lips to it. He's obsessed with Percy's neck. When Percy gets turned on, his pale white chest starts to splotch red under a perfectly light patch of red hair, and the red climbs up his neck and down his stomach like vines the more turned on he gets. With just the right amount of suction against the soft join of his neck and shoulder, he starts to whimper.

Oliver sits back for a second, quickly rearranging himself so his cock isn't caught so uncomfortably in his jeans before moving forward again against Percy's body, kissing his neck and his ear and his shoulder. He runs a hand into Percy's hair, and tugs his head to the side, only trying to get access to the other side of Percy's neck when Percy practically yelps.

Oliver freezes. "Was that not okay?"

"No, it's… I liked…" Percy pants "Very… you can…"

Percy so turned on he can't gather words into a sentence is so hot that Oliver might just die, and it takes him a moment to calm down enough to realize what Percy is trying to communicate.

Gently, experimentally, Oliver tugs at Percy's hair again, and Percy moans.

"Fuck," Oliver grunts and dives for Percy's neck like it's sustenance in his starvation. He's going to goddamn cover Percy in hickies, and let Percy scold him later. They have bruise potion. Oliver will start buying in in bulk.

"Oliver?" Percy manages, "Oliver?"

"Yeah," Oliver replies, barely pausing his mouthing of Percy's neck.

"Oliver, what would you do if I let you undress me?" Percy rushes out.

"Christ Percy, anything you wanted," Oliver mutters against his marble skin. "Anything you asked me to."

"Oliver…" Percy whines, and Oliver remembers that this is Percy. He's not being flirty, he's not teasing, he's genuinely asking Oliver to give him the actual answer. An answer that requires so much more blood in his brain that Oliver currently has to spare.

He stops, rests his forehead against Percy's hair and drops his hands to Percy's waist. "I'd undress first, then undress you, tell you how fucking gorgeous you are, pull you back down like this, and jerk you off, hold you tight to me while you came. Then I would take you to my bed, and we can make out, and touch each other. You can get me off if you want to, or I can touch myself while you kiss me. Then we can rest a little, and if you want I'll make you come again."

"How?"

"Usually with my mouth, but we don't have to do that yet if you want to wait."

"Can we go to the bed first?" Percy asked. "And not do it on the couch?"

"Percy, I will touch you literally anywhere you want to be touched. Wanna fool around on the moon? I'll make it happen for you."

"I had a dream you were…" Percy starts, but his whole body shivers as he trails off. "Well. We were on McGonagall's desk. I woke up so goddamn hard."

Percy is teasing him now and Oliver's not sure he can stand it. "Please Percy, fuck, please. Please let me undress you, please let me see you, please let me touch you."

"Okay," Percy finally says and lifts himself off the couch onto wobbling legs.

Oliver jolts to his feet behind him, sweeps one arm under Percy's knees and hauls him up to his chest in a bridal carry and Percy shouts with happy laughter as Oliver carries him into the bedroom.

#perciver #Percy weasley #Oliver wood #Percy Weasley/ Oliver Wood #perciver smut

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rainydayathogwarts · 1 year ago

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How they react when you tell them you're in the mood - Oliver Wood

this is a small series I’ll be uploading. I’ll post each character on its own, but the character i’ll be writing this for are: Harry, Ron, Percy, Oliver, Remus, Sirius, James.

oliver! is always ready to praise and worship your body no matter what time of the day it is, so when you come up to him after a successful Quidditch match, engulfing him in a big hug and standing on the tip of your toes so you can whisper in his ear how much you want him, he is ready to pounce.

You can barely close the door to the changing rooms before Oliver's lips are on your body, kissing every inch of skin he can reach. He's lucky the team prefers to shower in their dorms. His veiny hands are gripping your waist while he's nipping at your skin, hips grinding mercilessly into you. It's only your hands, relentlessly trying to tug his pants down his thighs that have him pulling away from you to take over the job. He strips down to nothing, but scolds you when you mimic his actions because he takes joy in taking your clothes off.

You turn away from him and teasingly bend forward when taking your panties off, and not nearly a second later, Oliver is on his knees, pulling you back onto his face as he devours your cunt. You cry out loudly, tightly gripping the lockers in the room, the thought of anyone walking in on you making you impossibly wetter. Oliver can tell when you're about to orgasm from the way your pussy clenches around his tongue so he pulls away, one hand coming up to smack your ass, eyes trained on the way it jiggles.

When you whine, starting to beg for more, Oliver wraps an arm around your wrist, pulling you along into one of the showers, where he lets the water run hot before pounding into you, his body pressing yours up against the wall. He's basically carrying you with the way one of your leg is propped up on his hip, the other trembling from the pressure. Your arms wrapped around his body keep him impossibly close to you and he grunts into the crook of your neck.

He gets sloppy with his strokes, but one hand comes down to urgently rub your clit, making sure you come before him. Your second leg gives out from under you when you finally orgasm, but his tight hold on your body keeps you up, and his hand picks your second leg up to wrap around his waist so he can use the momentum to make him go quicker, pulling a second orgasm from you while he cums inside you, hips erratically pumping into you while he whimpers quietly.

He holds you in his arms, using the wall as support while he catches him breath, pressing soft, and much less urgent kisses on your skin. He knows he can put you down when you leave a kiss on his jaw, one hand coming up to push his face closer to yours so you can kiss him properly.

After the celebratory party in the Gryffindor Tower, he pulls you up to his dorm for an inevitable round two.

#harry potter #hogwarts #gryffindor #oliver x reader #oliver wood #rainydayathogwarts #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood x you #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfic #oliver wood smut

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redheadspark · 1 year ago

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Fifth Floor Prt. 1

A/N - I wrote this out and it ended up being SO long! Part two will come soon enough, and that HAS the SMUT in it!

Summary - You and Oliver reunited after the Battle of Hogwarts, and old flames are rekindled again

Warnings - Just some fluff and angst in this part, Part Two is found here

"Alright, make a perch right here,"

Madam Promfrey helped place you on one of the old Great Hall benches, at least the one that wasn't destroyed and still standing. You groaned a bit, your head throbbing from a wound that was inflicted on the top of your forehead, your energy dropping by the minute and your adrenaline was no longer evident. The rest of the students and teachers around you were in no better shape either, trying to mend their wounds and unwind from all the chaos that happened within the last several hours. Not to mention the bodies that were being moved and placed in a secluded area on the other side of the Great Hall. It was heartbreaking to see, both Death Eater and those in the Order. They were all the same: lifeless. But it was worse since some of those bodies were of the students.

You both felt lucky and cursed to be alive.

Coming back to your old school Ala Mater, you wanted it to be more of a blissful reunion and not a bitter one. But you were called back too, thanks to the enchanted Galleon you were given. The world was already turned upside down when You-Know-Who took over the Ministry of Magic, his followers running around all over Europe to capture half-blooded and muggle-borns, the safety of the medical world was now critical. You even had to go into hiding since you were a half-born witch, your mother being a witch and your father a muggle. Luckily, they both were out of the country on Holiday over in America visiting family when the Ministry Fell, and you can get in contact with them to stay across the Pacific until further notice.

With your parents safe and out of harm's way, you were not focusing on yourself and going into hiding at your cramped little flat. It was a bit hard, thinking that when you would go to sleep you would be awakened by a Death Eater leering over your little bed with a wand at your throat. Plenty of people were disappearing in the night. You were glad to have escaped a few close calls, seeing Death Eaters going among the streets in packs and causing chaos for no random reason.

Thankfully, you learned a thing or two when it came to blending in and staying under the radar. You kept your eyes on your neighbors, especially the older couple that had no one else to turn to. Thankfully, they were not a target to any Death Eaters or even the Ministry of Magic. They would go for anyone, and to make sure you were not a min target, you made sure any communication with anyone was going to be minimal.

Yet the one person who you were still talking to since you graduated together, was Oliver Wood.

Being from the same House and in the same year, you both were thick as thieves throughout your years at Hogwarts and in Gryffindor House. Ever since you were first years, you and Oliver were sticking together when it came to classes and studying. It was nice to have another friend in your year since you were on the shy side, though Oliver was a bit cockier and a sports enthusiast. Especially with Quidditch, which was his obsession and life.

Speaking of which, you saw him helping bring in some of the bodies of the fallen to the corner of the Great Hall, placing them gently on the ground and covering their bodies with some of the blankets from the Hospital Wing. He too looked worn from the Battle: his clothes were disheveled and covered in dust, and blood was evident along his jaw and a bit in his hair. But you were glad he was walking around and alive, in a much better state than others. It made you smile, seeing him alive and alert.

The older you two got while at school, the deeper your friendship was going, and with the deep friendship, you developed feelings for him came along too. You had no clue when it happened, whether it was your 4th or 5th year when it shifted, but you started to look at him in a different light. How he would fly as the Keeper on the quidditch team, you watched him a pinch longer during practice or a heated match against Slytherin. You two were still friends, going to Hogsmeade on certain weekends to get butterbeer and catch up together, or go out on the ground studying together for Potions or Herbology.

You were catching feelings, whether you liked it or not.

"Hey!" You saw him make his way over to you, weaving his way around the other survivors who were walking around and trying to catch their breath. His eyes were right on you, and you gave him a small smile as he finally sat down next to you. Before you could say anything, he engulfed you in his arms, you clinging onto him while you both were sighing in relief and happiness that you both were alive.

You were beyond glad to see him there with all his limbs and functioning, the last time you saw him was still in the wee hours of the morning and he was making his way over to the courtyard with some of the other Quidditch players, You were taking one at least two Death Eaters that were trying to kill a group of 1st years that were caught in the middle of battle and couldn't hide out in time. Of course, the rest of the night you were thinking about Oliver and if he was okay, if he was going to make it to the morning and survive that whole ordeal.

He did, and you two were reuniting again.

"You okay?" He asked as he pulled away abruptly and scanned your appearance frantically, "Nothin' broken?!"

"I'm okay. I promise I'm okay," You reassured him as he gave you another hug, this one felt gentler and a pinch intimate. Just being hugged by Oliver alone made you feel at peace for the first time since you arrived at the school on the threshold of chaos and death. His hugs always made you feel calm through a storm, peacefulness in a chaotic world, and most of all love in a lonely time. No matter how many times you two hugged, whether it was a simple hug or something more intense, you felt love.

You both again pulled away and you took in a long breath, looking away from Oliver for a moment, seeing the Great Hall still trying to heal and digest all that happened. People were weeping, others were clinging onto each other in hopes of feeling consoled, and the rest were simply sitting, saying nothing with longing gazes on their faces.

"I can't believe that happened," You said in a long exhale, tapping your fingers rapidly on your leg as Oliver was watching you carefully and with a hint of concern, "He almost killed all of us, didn't he?"

You-Know-Who, filled with rage and power that it seemed that you were losing hope in winning this war. All of the horror stories you knew about him and his followers were in effect that night. You knew it would take some time for you to heal, you didn't know if it'd take months or years, but you weren't the only one. Everyone in that room would need to heal.

"Aye, but I'm glad we're all alive," Oliver murmured next to you, sitting back a bit on the bench, "Thanks to Harry,"

You gave a small smile at the mention of the Boy Who Lived, remembering him as merely a fellow Gryffindor and someone who flew with Oliver on the Quidditch Team. You've ran into him a few times, being one of the plenty who knew of his story before he even did. But he was kind, a bit brash at times but kind and willing to stand up to the bullies. Harry Potter was a true Gryffindor, and for him to lead the battle against the very Dark Lord who tried to kill him as a baby, he was beyond brave.

"Thanks to Harry," You repeated as Oliver shifted in his spot. He gave you a serious look.

"Where are your folks?" He asked, you rolling your shoulders.

"In America, visiting my Aunt and Grandfather," You replied, "They left two weeks before the Ministry fell, and I told them not to come back,"

"Good," He replied in relief. Oliver met your parents a few times, the first time was at Platform 9 and 3/4 when you were going back to Hogwarts for your second year. Your mum and dad thought of Oliver as a great fiend inviting him to come to your home over the summer once or two to both use your backyard to train for quidditch together and to simply talk quidditch with your dad.

"Your folks?" You asked him with a raised brow.

"Fine. They…um.. they went into hiding as I did, but they're safe with some old colleagues of theirs," Oliver explained to you, you smiling in return.

"I've always liked your mum and dad," You stated, "They've always been so kind to me, especially your mum. And your dad is just like you,"

"Or I'm just like my da?" Oliver asked as you smiled and shrugged.

"Don't know, but I'm not complaining," You joked half-heartedly, hearing him laugh in return. Such an odd thing to do at a time like this, almost dying from Voldemort, almost seeing the school that you grew up and loved become dust. Yet you two were laughing as if you'd never parted after graduation. Some people were looking over at you in confusion, wondering why two young adults covered in dust and blood were laughing like teenagers all over again.

But it felt good to laugh, it felt good to let that emotion come through like a wave that was crashing on the shore. You remembered laughing like this with him when you two would study together in the Common Room, or chat side by side during dinner in the very Great Hall you two were at. You missed this, being with your old best friend and not having a care or worry in the world.

For the briefest of moments, you forgot about the war and how you almost died.

After the laughing died down and you two were quiet again, Oliver looked down at his attire and grimaced a bit, "I don't know how much dust I have on my blazer,"

"Me neither," You agreed, looking at your coat and noticing all that it took on with the battles. Some wear and tear along your sleeves, your shirt ripped at the bottom from a Dead Eater nearly ripping it off of you while you were trying to escape, blood splattered along your pants and boots that you threw on, and even your hair was a bit matted and barely staying together from the braid it was in over your shoulder.

The last thing you wanted to do was move from the bench you were on since it felt like you could fall over in exhaustion, but you also wanted to scrub down all the filth from your skin. Your mind didn't know what you wanted to do, and thinking of traveling back to your small cramped apartment seemed too stressful.

"I need to wash this off," You grumbled, flicking off some dry blood that was stuck on your thumb.

"And I doubt there's anything here in the castle to rinse off in," Oliver added in agreement, then pausing with a tense look on his face. You looked back at him with a questioning gaze. You knew that look on his face, plenty of times in the past when he had a bright idea, whether it was during Quidditch practice or knowing what to do in his homework.

"What?" You asked him, seeing him then gaze at you while pointing to the Great Hall doors that were barely propped open and showing the battered hallway.

"You think the fifth floor is still intact?" He asked you, having you cock your head at him.

"The fifth floor?"

Oliver got the door open, with a gentle nudge of his shoulder as he had to give it a shove. After you followed him through the small opening of the door, your eyes went wide from the site in front of you. Of course, with some debris everywhere and a few cracks in the wall and windows, most of the room itself was mildly damaged from the battle. Perhaps there was some enchantment in this room, with all the minor damages that were evident all around the room. You had no clue, you've only heard of this place through some gossip with some friends.

The Prefect Bathroom.

A massive tub that took up half of the room itself was built into the ground, aligned with cool step stones and marble that wrapped around and melted into the stone walls. Stain glass windows that were floor to ceiling were on the other side of the tub, different shades of greens and blues illuminating the room from the sun that was already rising over the Scotland mountains and countryside near Hogwarts.

Along another wall, there were facets, dozens upon dozens of bronzed facets perched over the tub ready for use. A shelf that was splintered had some white towels that were tossed to the floor, along with some vials that looked to have stored oils and perhaps scented substances for use in baths.

Shocked was not a word you would use in your everyday vocabulary, but this time you were going to have to use it.

"Merlin's Beard," You gasped as Oliver walked over to where the facets were, you were scanning the whole room as Oliver was checking the damage of the tub. The surprise and shock of this massive room were still reeling in your mind, you've never seen any kind of bathroom like this in your life. The ones in your old dorm back in Gryffindor Tower had no tubs, simply shower stalls that were decent enough. But this tub was the size of your entire bathroom at your home.

"How do you know about this bathroom?" You asked him as he was kneeling next to the facets and scanning the tub.

"Quidditch Captains get access along with the Prefects and Head Boys and Girls," He explained, "You don't know how many times I would hide out here and soak in this tub after a match,"

"No wonder you fled after the games rather quickly," You hummed as you were staring at the gorgeous stained glass over the tub, the image of a Mermaid from the Black Lake was along the glass and looked hauntingly beautiful.

"Let's test it out, shall we?" Oliver asked, you looking over at him with a hint of shock as he was turning a few of the facets. Some gurgles were heard, and you thought that the facets were going to be broken and water wouldn't come out. Sure enough, a huge flow of water was coming through at least 5 facets. Oliver chuckled turning a few more facets with ease.

"What if someone sees us in here?" You questioned in worry, looking at the door that led out of the room thinking someone was going to walk in on you and Oliver in the Prefect's Bathroom. Of course, you two were grown adults, not longer students at Hogwarts, but it would still be a bit of a shocker if a passerby happened to stumble on the pair of you alone together. You were no prude, but you would hate to be caught in an awkward situation.

Oliver gave you a raised brow and a glare, "You think anyone's gonna wander up here after what just happened here at school? To the Prefect Bathroom of all places?!"

You glared, "You know what I mean,"

"Aye I do, and you're a bit paranoid," He replied, you huffing and pointing to the running water from the enchanted faucets.

"How is it still working?" You asked in shock as you watched the water flow into the massive tub. Each facet was giving out a different color in the water but once it was in the tub, it was all clear again.

"Don't know, but I'm not goin' to complain," Oliver huffed as he sighed and stood back up. Walking over to you, Oliver cleared his throat and gestured to the tub that was being filled up with hot water, "I'll just…umm…let you go first."

You blushed and fiddled with your fingers. Now hitting another wall In this situation, taking turns in a bath with your old best friend. It was already risky enough for you to be venturing amongst the school grinds, right after a massive battle that almost took out the entire castle.

But another risk was being there with Oliver, the very Quidditch Captain that you both adored as a friend and secretly had a crush on. No matter if you two were adults, covered in blood and dirt, still running on adrenaline and stress from nearly a handful of times within a few hours, exhausted in both fatigue and mental pain, you were getting those butterflies in your stomach again. Just like you were teenagers, sitting together during a meal or in a study session, those fleeting emotions seemed to be coming back on overdrive.

Perhaps you were thankful he was alive and with you, finding you in a massive crowd of survivors and making sure you were okay and safe. Or maybe it was the fact he reached out to you hours before everything happened, telling you Harry was calling all of the ex-Quidditch players to help defend Hogwarts. You were both barely in contact with each other since you graduated, and seeing him at your doorstep with that glint in his eye and the look of panic and pain on his face.

But you would follow him anywhere, even if it meant into battle. Placing your life on the line for the sake of helping your old friends defend the school you grew to love. Oliver had a way about him, the way of being able to give you a sense of security and vulnerability that no one else could ever do. He knew your deepest secrets but held them to his heart with no sign of exposing them to others, his own unique joy and humor made you laugh more than anyone else ever could.

There was no denial for you, you did love Oliver.

"Thank you," You replied, seeing him give you a small smile. He was about to walk past you, leaving you in the Prefect Bathroom when you suddenly grabbed his arm. Oliver stopped, looking at you as if something was wrong. But you were giving him a kind smile, still holding his arm gently within your fingers and remaining close enough to almost feel the heat radiating off his skin. It made you wonder if he could hear your heartbeat going up a bit faster.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice was low and subtle, almost sounding gravely, and yet warmth was mixed in his tone.

"I'm just….I'm glad we're both okay and alive," You said in a stammer, Oliver saying nothing but staring down at you, "Mostly, I'm glad you're okay,"

Oliver gulped, giving you a short nod, "I'm glad you're here too,"

"And I know we haven't talked in a long time since we left Hogwarts, but you were my best friend. All of the best memories I have ever had within these walls were because of you. I never had a chance to tell you, and I wanted to tell you now," You explained with no hesitation in your voice. It was selling out of you before you could stop yourself or dial it down.

"I'm just glad we're both alive and that I told you how I felt. It would have killed me if I didn't," You said calmly, then being a bit bold by leaning up a bit on your tiptoes and giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was brief, the fog that would roll over the Black Lake outside of the castle on an early Autumn morning. But the feeling alone made you feel experience sparks under your skin, that teenage sensation was back tenfold as you were about to turn back around and grab one of the towels that seemed decent to use.

Oliver turned you back around with a gentle grab on your arm, kissing you soundly on the lips.

You've been kissed before, yet not like this. This felt like a new level of a kiss, his chapped lips along your own that almost shuttered from the sensation. Other kisses felt clumsy or out of place, maybe failed attempts to make you feel swooned. You hated those kisses, they seemed uneasy and stumbled. But not this.

This felt like the sensation of flying on your broom for the first time, drinking a butterbeer on a cold winter day in Hogsmeade, and the feeling of snow touching your cheeks during the first snowfall. Kissing your best friend, the one friend who was your true north and compass in the bad times, the one friend who knew how to make you laugh and feel overjoyed, and the one friend who was your number one fan and supporter in any choice you made.

He pulled away slightly, you still in a daze from that simple touch of the lips as you slowly opened your eyes and watched him gaze at you. With him being slightly taller than you, his brown orbs were pouring into yours as he was almost wishing to read your mind.

But you knew that the same broke inside of you.

"Merlin," You whispered, leaning back up and kissing him back.

You both melted into one another, hands grasping each other's clothes as Oliver kissed you over and over as if he was both starving and yet taking his time with you. You were letting him, his fingers brushing along your neck as he cradled your face close to kiss you soundly, his body pressing against you with the right amount of pressure that your head was spinning. Everything about Oliver was consuming you, your fingers were clinging onto his blazer in fear that he was going to drift away from you. He wouldn't, you knew that deep down that he wouldn't leave you like this.

One of his arms moved from your neck to lower your body, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in tightly as his kisses evolved into deeper and more sensual kisses. It felt like a drug was kicking in with no sign of slowing down, maybe the knowledge of almost losing each other hours before when the castle was in flames and people were dying around you was still igniting in you.

Before you both knew it, hands were roaming as you were leaning into him more and more. His hands moved to strip off your jacket letting it fall to the ground in a heap as your tongue moved out to trace his lower lip. A small sharp inhale was heard from him, his fingers were dancing along your worn down shirt and his other set of fingers were digging into your hair while your hands attempting to push off his blazer. Oliver grinned against our lips, moving his hands away for his blue blazer stained in blood and grime was now on the ground.

"What are we doin'?" He asked against your lips as you kissed his hotly and smiled.

"What we should have been doing for some time," You murmured back as his arms were around you again.

"Aye, we should have done this a long time ago," He confessed as he pulled away again to look down at you again. You saw how plump his lips were, his dilated his brown eyes looked, and even the flush on his skin and cheeks. This was a unique look on Oliver, who always seemed to have his cool and calm demeanor even the most stressful of times. But now he looked undone, stripped open and bare, and it was all from kissing you.

"I think this is crazy," you admitted with a soft smile, though the smile on Oliver's face never left as he shook his head.

"We just survived a war at the hands of Voldemort, and you think snoggin' in the prefect's bathroom is crazy?" He asked you in a breath, you staring deep into his eyes and seeing him reach into his back pocket where his wand was snug in. With a twist of his wrist, you heard the door snapping shut and locking automatically.

"What's crazy, is that I never said a word about how I felt about you all those years we were friends," He explained with a gulp, his eyes never leaving yours as he went on, "I was afraid to say anythin', but not anymore. I wanna be with ya, only ya, and after what we went through last night, I'm not lettin' ya go,"

You would have melted to the floor from hearing those words from Oliver, and you knew then and there you would never be able to let him go either.

Reaching down to retrieve your wand that was on the floor with your blazer, not losing your gaze on Oliver who was still giving you an alluring gaze, you licked your lips and gripped your wand tightly. Finally, you turned around and aimed at the door. With a flick of the wrist, magic shot out of your wand and landed against the door and the wall, giving a shimmering light.

“What did ya do?” Oliver asked in a tentative tone, thought you grinned and looked back at him with a soft grin.

“Imperturbable Charm” You answered, seeing him grin widely as you dropped your wand onto your jacket that was on the floor.

“Bloody Hell,”

To Be Continued....

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

#oliver wood x female reader #oliver wood prompts #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #oliver wood smut #fanfiction #writing #my love #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter smut #harry potter writing #hp fic #hp smut #hp fanfic

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fantasyworld4ever · 1 year ago

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Perciver {Percy Weasley x Oliver Wood} NSFW

Note: Um, So I wrote this on a writing course in my free time because I got bored.

Warnings: Swearing, cursing, smut, just filthy smut.

Requested: No

Pairing: Percy Weasley x Oliver Wood

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A ragged breath tore its way out from Percy’s throat as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Ah…” He groaned, his lips parted as his chest heaved for breath.

His hand scrambled for purchase and finally landed on the bar of the bed and he held on, his knuckles turning white. Short, quick gasps escaped his lips

“Oh, oh fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

“I take it you’re enjoying this then?” Percy glanced down to meet the smug expression of Oliver Wood.

“Shut up… Put that mouth of yours to use.” He hissed, his eyes rolling back as Oliver pressed a soft kiss to his inner thigh.

“Getting to that part, patience, my darling.” Deciding to allow Percy some relief, Oliver leaned down, delicately taking the tip of his member between his lips, swiping his tongue gently over the slit making Percy cry out in surprise.

Oliver smirked before finally taking him in his mouth fully. Now, a string of words left Percy’s mouth, whether it was Oliver’s name, curses or even just babbled noises, he didn’t know.

“That’s it Percy. Let me hear those pretty little noises, hmm?” Oliver grunted as he took Percy deeper, swirling his tongue in a motion that had Percy throwing his head, gasping out in surprise.

Oliver whined in protest as Percy pulled him off, bringing him up to kiss him gently.

“I can’t… I need… I need to be inside you, Oliver.” Oliver’s eyes widened before he gave a quick nod, positioning himself so he was straddling Percy now, his back facing away from Percy’s face.

Slowly, he sank down, his eyes widening at the stretch.

“Oh… Oh Percy…” He gasped out, panting as he rested his hands on Percy’s chest.

“That’s it. You take it so perfectly.” Percy soothed, reaching up to stroke Oliver’s back.

Oliver cried out as he finally bottomed out. Percy was pretty well endowed, thick as well as long and when Oliver sat up properly, he could see the slight outline of Percy’s member inside his lower abdomen.

“My perfect little slut, aren’t you?” Percy gasped the words out, his brow creased in pleasure.

“Yours, only yours!” Oliver gasped out as he slowly pushed himself up before sinking back down, crying out as he found a steady pace.

Percy’s hands found his hips, guiding his pace and keeping him at a quick, rough rate.

“So good for me… So perfect!” Oliver groaned at the praise and his head slumped forward slightly, sweat beading on his brow.

Oliver whimpered as he reached his hand down, only for it to be slapped away as Percy grasped his member in his hand instead, jerking Oliver off with quick, harsh movements. Within a few moments, Oliver’s hips stuttered, throwing his head back as he spilled over Percy’s hand.

“Yes, yes!” Oliver cried out as he felt Percy thrust deep, painting his walls with white streaks.

After a while, they still lay together, Percy’s arms wrapped around Oliver, cradling him close to his body, whispering sweet praises.

“You were so perfect, baby. So perfect for me.” Soothed Percy.

Percy stroked Oliver’s cheek fondly as Oliver rested against him.

“Sleep, I’ll watch over you.” Percy promised as Oliver slowly slipped into his world of dreams.

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{Phew well that was... something. Anyway, as always my requests are open. This is my first time writing smut so hope it was okay :D}

#percy weasley #oliver wood #harry potter #smut #smutty #fluff #perciver #percy x oliver #hp fests

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leahsflwer · 7 months ago

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[IN THE MAKING]

#Harry Potter #fluff #angst #smut #imagine #preferences #imagines #george weasley #fred weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #Oliver wood #neville longbottom

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so-scarlett-maroon · 9 months ago

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Book Lovers

Book Lovers - Chapter 1 - So_scarlett_maroon - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

After extensive research, years of study, and hands-on investigation, Hermione Jean Granger wrote the definitive record of the History of Hogwarts. She dove to the bottom of the Black Lake, cataloged the separate Centaur Heards, and even discovered the in-depth magic that had made the Room of Requirement possible. Her publishing firm had decided that this great work, her labor of love, was on par with Wood Between My Thighs: The Oliver Wood Biography.

Paula Metto, her publicist, continued, "We are so lucky to get to hitch your book along with his! It will be a fantastic synergy. The idea is that since you were at Hogwarts at the same time, we are going to play you two as old friends. He played on the pitch, and you researched the grounds; it could not have worked out better."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Either Paula missed the movement in her enthusiasm or chose to ignore it.

"A dense tome like yours can struggle to find an audience, but a professional Quidditch player will definitely drum up interest."

Hermione wanted to scream. "I thought you said my name alone was enough to sell books?" Her knuckles were turning white as she gripped the edge of Paula's desk.

The petite blonde woman placed a hand over her heart. "It is, of course it is. You are Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of Her Age! It's just… Oliver will bring in a different set of readers. Boost sales even further.

Hermione had had enough. "No, I don't think so. Wood and I weren't ever close at school, and I don't like the idea of play-acting with him for money. Tell the publishing house I decline. I want my own book tour as promised initially. I don't mind if it has to be smaller that way.”

Paula's bright pink lips formed a grimace. She sighed deeply. "Look, babe, If that is how you are going to be, I'll give it to you straight. I was on the phone all week trying to score you a place on his tour. His book has garnered huge interest, and the publisher wanted to add more dates to his tour, so they took the money from your book tour to do so. It's join up with Wood or no book tour at all. Take the gift that has been given to you."

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the-puffy-sleeves-of-lucius · 7 months ago

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ginny Weasley/Oliver Wood Characters: Ginny Weasley, Oliver Wood, Original Characters Additional Tags: Quidditch Captain Oliver Wood, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Quidditch, Locker Room, Smut, One Night Stands, Hook-Up, Pining, Denial of Feelings, Age Difference, New Year's Eve, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Consent, Semi-Public Sex, Ginny Weasley Knows What She Wants, Oliver Wood is Along for the Ride Summary:

When Ginny arrived at the Puddlemere New Year's party with the rest of the Harpies, she had a very specific set of plans for the evening. 1. Mingle with Puddlemere, Ballycastle, Wimbourne, Falmouth, and staunchly ignore Chudley. 2. Drink at least one whole bottle worth of free champagne. 3. Fuck Oliver Wood during the countdown.

#hp smut #oliver #oliver wood #ginny

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valentineforlemonandcherry · 2 years ago

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Ash & Skylight Part 11

This is currently planned to be a mid-length story between You/Reader, Charlie Weasley, and Oliver Wood.

[Multi-Post Story] [Charlie Weasley x Reader] [Oliver Wood x Reader] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Rough Sex.] [Warning: If you don’t like sad endings, this one may not be for you.]

❂ Click Here for Ash & Skylight Home Page (All Chapter Links) ❂

As soon as you closed the door behind you, you kissed Oliver again, pressing him up against your wall. Oliver caught you at once. His hands found your hips easily this time. He was happily becoming familiar with kissing you, though his heart still skipped a beat whenever you so much as turned towards him.

You got up on tiptoe for a moment and pushed your forehead gently against his. “Don’t you want to touch me?”

“Huh?”

“Touch me,” you repeated softly. “Don’t you wanna?”

“Well – Well, sure,” Oliver admitted. He paused, before asking, “Aren’t I already?”

You teased him. “You know, Oliver, I do exist under all of the Puddlemere United clothing…” You fell back onto your feet. As you did, you shimmied your hips slightly, so that Oliver’s hands slipped under the hem of your jumper and shirt and slid onto your bare waist.

“Oh…” Oliver breathed out. He gripped your waist in his hands instinctively, squeezing you tightly.

“Ah,” you gasped lightly.

“Sorry!” Oliver hurriedly let you go. “Too tight, huh?”

“No, no. Wait, come back, Oliver.” You reached down and pulled his hands back to where they were. In fact, you rather un-romantically shoved his hands back under your jumper. If anyone had been watching, they would have laughed at how straightforward you were being and how doubtful Oliver seemed of everything. But neither you nor Oliver laughed. You were together in the moment, and it felt too important to laugh.

Oliver slowly ran his hands up and down your waist and hips. “Um, you feel…”

“I feel what?” you prompted, wanting him to finish that sentence.

A tad sheepishly, he decided on, “Nice. You feel nice.”

You laughed lightly. Wrapping your arms around Oliver’s neck, you burrowed your face into his neck, where you pressed sweet kisses against his neck over and over again.

“Mm, mm, mm,” you mumbled out, as you brushed your lips all over his warm neck.

Oliver felt his chest tighten, as he received your kisses. Her mouth is so sweet, he thought dizzily.

Reaching out, Oliver hugged you tightly to him. Pressed up against his chest, you could hear Oliver’s heartbeat racing along in his chest.

Oh, you thought, slightly surprised, it’s beating quite fast. You peeked up at him.

Hyper-sensitive to your every movement, as soon as you tilted your head up, Oliver also looked down at you.

“You all right?” you asked him softly.

Oliver took how your bright, curious eyes glanced up at him, and how your soft hair tumbled over your shoulder as you cocked your head up at him. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Fine.”

Noticing the way Oliver was standing rather awkwardly, with his hands almost resting on the wall behind him, on either side of him, you suggested, “Can you hold onto my hair for me? It’s getting in the way.”

“It is?” he said, a bit puzzled. He liked the way your hair looked right now, draped over your shoulder, as you talked to him, and he didn’t see it getting in the way.

“Well, it’s fine now,” you agreed. “But I want to kiss you…” You put your hand flat against his chest. “…here. And I think it’ll get in the way then.”

“Sure,” Oliver said, trying to sound nonchalant. He slowly and carefully brushed your hair into a ponytail.

“Thank you,” you murmured. You pulled down the front of Oliver’s shirt and resumed placing kisses all over his chest.

Oliver breathed out, “Uhn…”

When you heard Oliver let out that tiny, soft moan, you nearly paused. Because it did things to you, that moan. And it made you want to do all sorts of stuff to him. However, not wanting Oliver to feel self-conscious, you pretended not to notice and carried on kissing his chest.

Every kiss you planted on Oliver was very intentional and sweet. You loved the way he tasted, and so it was only natural for you to swirl your tongue against his skin and then suck gently on his chest.

Soon, you felt Oliver’s chest starting to rise and fall rather drastically. Wanting to feel every bit of his reaction, you kept your mouth pressed against Oliver longer for each kiss.

Meanwhile, Oliver, who was torn between doing his utmost to hold your hair back gently for you and losing his mind entirely at how wonderful it felt to be kissed by you like this, suddenly blurted out, “Godric, you kiss so well – Mm, you’re such a – a good girl.”

Oh, oh, oh! Your heart suddenly thrummed wildly in your chest. Did he just – Did he just call me a good girl?

At once, Oliver said, “Uh, sorry, that slipped out.”

“No, no,” you whispered back fervently. “Please call me that.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all,” you hummed out happily, as you sucked gently on the spot just beneath his collarbone. “Mmm… Yes, Oliver, please call me your good girl.”

Now feeling a bit more confident that you were, in fact, making Oliver feel good, you kissed down his body (thought without lifting his shirt).

Oliver, panting now, leaned back against the wall, and he moaned softly without realizing it.

Oh Godric, he sounds so cute, you thought to yourself, as you kissed him feverishly. All the while, of course, you were slowly going lower and lower, making your way down…

Oliver didn’t realize how low you were going until your hair suddenly slipped out of his grasp – because you’d fallen lightly onto your knees.

“W-Wait,” Oliver blurted out. He reached down and rather roughly grasped your face in his hand.

You blinked in surprise when you felt his fingers pushing into your cheeks.

Realizing that he was grasping too hard, Oliver hurriedly let go and instead tried to cup your face gently in his hands, but he missed – and you ended up falling forward and smushed your face right up against his stomach.

“Oliver!” you groaned. You sat back and rubbed your nose. “Ow…”

“I’m sorry!” Oliver quickly crouched down, so that he was face-to-face with you. “You caught me off guard there.”

Oliver slid his hand onto your cheek and made you look up at him, so he could make sure that you were all right. Your nose was a little red, but you seemed completely all right – except you were scowling at him.

“But I went so slow,” you said, half to him and half to yourself. “I held back and I took my time, so you wouldn’t be surprised when I finally…”

Oliver blinked at you. “So I wouldn’t be surprised?”

That was when you realized, “Oh, Oliver, you weren’t thinking about that at all, were you? You were only thinking about how I was kissing your chest. You didn’t think I was making my way elsewhere, huh?”

Oliver slid his hand forward slightly and gently pressed his thumb to your lower lip, making you open your mouth for him. He murmured quietly, “Yeah, I didn’t think about it. Your mouth is so sweet. I was simply feeling your mouth on my chest. And that… seemed like enough.” He hesitated, before he admitted, “You kiss really well.”

Heart thumping loudly in your chest, you gazed up at Oliver. In truth, it was a strange situation – but a touching one, and a romantic one, too. You were sitting on the floor, with a now pinkened nose, and he was crouching down rather awkwardly. But he was also tenderly holding your face in his hand and as you looked up at him, a streak of warm, late autumn sunlight crept in through the crimson curtains and illuminated Oliver’s shoulders and his now-present puppy eyes.

At the same time, Oliver was looking down at you. He blinked when the amber-gold sunlight illuminated your face. “You’re really…” He meant to say “pretty,” but the word seemed so diminutive when it came to describing you. Instead, he ended up saying “…something,” which made you furrow your nose with confusion. Hastily, Oliver tacked on, “…special.”

Your eyes lit up and you laughed softly. You reached out and gently grasped the front of his shirt. “If that’s what you think, come closer, please.”

Oliver awkwardly shuffled forward in his crouched-down position.

You couldn’t help but genuinely laugh at this.

“What?” Oliver asked. “Did I do something off-putting? You can tell me if I did.”

You shook your head. “No. Only, I want to kiss you again. Can I?”

“‘Course you can, but, uh, shouldn’t I be doing something?” Oliver asked. He felt foolish as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he pressed on. “You don’t have to force yourself to keep kissing me. That’s probably not doing much for you, right?”

Twisting his shirt a little in your hand, you confessed, “Actually, I love having my mouth on you. You’re so warm… and, to tell the truth, you taste amazing.”

“I taste - ?”

“Amazing. Yeah. You really do.”

You pulled Oliver to you and at the same time, you leaned forward, into him. Your lips met and the two of you kissed slowly, sweetly, thoroughly. You both took the time to hug each other and nuzzle each other with your noses, only to wander back to each other’s lips and kiss each other desperately, over and over again.

At some point, Oliver gently pushed you down onto the floor. He didn’t seem to realize it, and you didn’t recall when it had happened, but there you were, lying back on the floor, underneath Oliver.

Once you were lying down on the floor, you reached down and tugged at Oliver’s wrists. He knew at once what you meant – and this time, he confidently slipped his hands under your jumper and shirt. However, he kept to running his hands up and down your sides, and you wanted more.

So, you murmured, “…Tummy.”

“Hm?” As he spoke, Oliver kept nuzzling your cheek with his nose.

You smiled, as you clarified, “I want you to touch my tummy, please.”

Oliver moved his hands, slipping them over your waist and onto your stomach. “Here?”

“Yeah.”

When Oliver felt how soft you were, he paused.

You opened your eyes. “What?” you asked, sensing his hesitation at once.

“Nothing,” he said, speaking slightly more quickly than he usually did.

You studied him for a moment, while gently tracing the side of his face with your fingers.

Under your gaze, Oliver admitted, “You’re really warm. And all soft and like…”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I think my jumper’s too warm.”

“Sure. Like I said, this material’s really for Quidditch players. Although, it suits you well…” While he spoke, Oliver was warmly running his hand all over your tummy.

You smiled. It felt so nice, to have him touching you like this. He had broad, rough hands – not technically “gentlemanly” at all, and yet, his touch felt a hundred times better than anything else.

Reaching down, you pulled one of his hands up, to your face. Closing your eyes, you turned your face into his hand and slowly kissed his palm.

Watching you kiss his palm, Oliver noticed, “Your cheeks are kind-of flushed, too.”

You asked softly, “Will you take it off?”

“Take it off…?”

“Yeah.” You lifted your arms. “Can you take my jumper off for me?”

Oliver reached down and pulled your jumper off. He could feel that his heart rate was embarrassingly high. Only, when the jumper hole got caught around your head for a moment, he couldn’t help but chuckle as you flailed about inside the jumper.

When the jumper was finally off, Oliver remarked, “Merlin, you looked so stupid for a minute. You’re kind-of impatient, aren’t you? You should have just waited for me to pull it off of you.”

Suddenly flustered by how Oliver was teasing you and how his puppy eyes had disappeared to reveal his normal, rather quick and straightforward persona, you thumped him in the stomach and protested, “Hey, that was your fault. You should be better at taking clothes off of girls!” You paused. “Wait, that came out wrong.”

Meanwhile, pretend-groaning, Oliver had stumbled over to your bed and fallen over on top of it.

“Wait, where are you going?” You got up off the floor and trailed after Oliver, all the while saying, “Hey, you’re just going to take my jumper off and then leave me there? I’m going to get cold without you.”

Oliver meant to apologize to you and express his intent that he wanted you to join him on the bed. However, glancing over at you and seeing how messed-up your hair still was, all frizzy with static on one side, Oliver couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Stop laughing at me! Especially when it’s your fault.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Oliver said, still chuckling.

“You’re still laughing!” You jumped onto the bed besides him and made to furiously tickle his side.

Rolling over to avoid getting caught, Oliver instead reached for you. He grabbed you, easily picked you up, and then sat you right down on his lap.

You instinctively landed with your hands on his stomach. You blinked in surprise, as you suddenly felt how cut his body was through his jumper and shirt. But you hardly had time to ponder that, for Oliver was speaking to you now.

“You’ve been so patient with me lately, I almost forgot how hot-tempered you are,” Oliver said affectionately. Giving you a rather cheeky grin, he told you, “Missed you. Missed you like this.”

As Oliver spoke, your eyes fell upon his face, and you were distracted by the wonderful sight of him. He was still laughing, and the warmth in his brown eyes was lovely. His hair had fallen in front of his face a little, and for the first time, you saw his hair messy, not in the windswept way that Quidditch made his hair, but in a boyish and relaxed way.

Still, you responded to him as called for – by poking him in the chest and retorting, “And I forgot how infuriating you can be, Oliver Wood.”

Oliver’s grin softened into a warm smile, and just like that, the two of you melted right back into a tender moment. Sliding your hands up onto Oliver’s shoulders, you leaned down until your nose touched his. Nuzzling his nose with yours, you whispered adoringly, “You need a haircut, love.”

Oliver nodded. In truth, he hardly took in the meaning of your words, for in that instant, he became very aware of you: the way your hair had fallen forward and was now tickling his cheek, the way your cute nose was nudging gently against his, the way your soft, lovely breath was passing gently over his lips, and the way you sat, all warm and perfect, on top of him. Oliver found that he liked the way you felt sitting on top of him. He squeezed your waist in his hands as he wished that he could stay with you like this, forever.

Meanwhile, oblivious to Oliver’s inner musings, you reached up and gently pushed his hair out of his face. “There’re your eyebrows,” you remarked playfully. “All stern and serious.”

You put on a stern, grumpy face, mimicking Oliver. Then, you broke into a laugh.

“Is that how you see me?” Oliver wondered.

“A little,” you confessed, smiling at him. “When you’re not making your puppy eyes at me, that is.”

“I still don’t know what you mean by that.”

“That’s fine,” you assured him. “You don’t need any more power over me than you already have.”

“I have power over you?” Oliver repeated doubtfully. He lifted his eyebrow at you.

You chuckled softly as you sank down even further against Oliver, until your thighs were pressed flush against his hips and your tummy was meeting his stomach. “Mhm,” you replied. “Unacceptably so. You know, I wouldn’t get up at five a.m. and scream at the top of my lungs for just anyone. Nor would I venture into a boys’ locker room to check up on just any ol’ Captain.”

“You came down anyways because you think I’m a good Captain, right?” Oliver said.

You nearly laughed in exasperation. A good Captain? More like because it was you, silly. But you simply nodded and confirmed, “Yes, because you’re an excellent Captain.”

Seeing Oliver smile proudly, you sweetly kissed him again.

Oliver, feeling less of a need to hold back now that you were on top of him and could control what was happening, kissed you back fervently. He reached up and placed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you down. He took his time with you, pressing his lips against yours deeply.

When he did, you felt yourself instantly melt into the kiss and into him. Your shoulders relaxed and your hands gathered at Oliver’s chest, while Oliver squeezed you tightly in his arms, wrapping you all up within the confines of his own body.

Oh, Merlin save me, you breathed out in your mind. I forgot how well he kisses. I forgot just how good and – and sweet and – ah – wonderful his kisses make me feel.

“Ah…” you moaned out. Your hands slipped off of Oliver’s shoulders and hurriedly found their way into his hair, which you fisted softly in both of your hands. You bit Oliver’s lower lip gently, making him shift under you and moan back.

“Oli – ah - ver,” you mumbled out, as Oliver took a moment to pepper your cheeks all over with kisses. You meant to tell him that you loved the way he moaned, when Oliver whispered back to you, “Yes. Say my name again. Just like that.”

You paused. “Oliver…?”

“Again.”

“Oli – ah – Oliver…”

“There you go.” Encouraged by hearing how breathless and sweet you sounded, Oliver slid himself down a little ways underneath you, where he began to kiss at your neck.

“Mm… Ol – iver,” you breathed out, enjoying very much the way his lips were trailing down your throat, leaving a trail of warmth all down your neck.

“Does it feel good?” Oliver asked. In his mind, he was wondering if he could ever kiss you well enough to give you the light-headed, heart-pounding feeling you gave him when you kissed him.

“Oh, God, yes,” you breathed out. “Feels so good…”

Oliver paused for a split second. The way you were panting for him was making him feel rather…

Rather… Oliver thought dazedly. But the thought went unfinished as, at that moment, a wave of tension unexpectedly rose within him. Suddenly, Oliver was certain: He wanted more of you. No, he wanted all of you.

Oliver aburptly grabbed your waist and he flipped you over on the bed.

“Ah!” you gasped, as you felt yourself hit the bed and suddenly sink into the mattress.

“Shit, sorry!” Oliver apologized hurriedly. Immediately breaking out of the intense desire that had overwhelmed him for a moment, Oliver went into a fluster, and he patted you all over – from your head down to your tummy to your thighs, as if to make sure you were all right.

You laughed softly. “‘M all right! I was just surprised – but in a good way.”

“Oh, thank Merlin.” Oliver breathed out. “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength and…”

“And?” you prompted.

I never want to hurt you, Oliver thought fervently, almost as a promise to himself. When I’m supposed to keep you safe.

Oliver paused, thinking to himself. Well, I don’t know if you need anyone to keep you safe. These days, I feel like I’m the one relying on you. But the thing is, I want to be by your side and I want to be a good thing in your life. So, I should serve some purpose for you, right? And that means, at least in part, that I should keep you safe. Right?

You reached out to Oliver with both of your arms. “Until you think of what to say, would you mind coming back here and kissing me again, please?”

Oliver obliged. He slid his arms around you. This time, when he leaned into you, he dragged your hips under his. Yes, he thought in his mind, I’ll keep you safe. If only you’ll let me stay with you, love.

You sighed out in pleasure as you felt Oliver trapping you gently underneath him.

However, when Oliver naturally came to sink down between your legs, it gave you pause. It occurred to you that Oliver felt even sturdier than he looked. For, while the way he was gripping your hips was still gentle, the demanding way in which his hips pushed apart your thighs caught you off guard.

He’s very strong, isn’t he? you mused. His hips are so wide and muscular. They split my thighs apart so easily. I bet he doesn’t even realize he’s making me stretch my thighs out already…

Just then, Oliver shifted slightly, causing him to accidentally brush up against you. At once, you both gasped and moaned out - embarrassingly loudly for such a simple, brief, and accidental touch.

You and Oliver saw each other gasp, and you both immediately blushed afterwards.

What was that? you were both thinking. Such a simple thing… How come it affected me strongly?

The truth was that the intimacy of the situation was overwhelming, choking you both.

You suddenly felt rather nervous – not of Oliver and not about the physical aspect of this, but about how intensely vulnerable you felt, when you were Oliver like this. All of your little actions – like how you were constantly asking to kiss him and telling him you wanted to be touched by pulling his hands towards you and now, lying under him with your thighs eagerly spread, while you gasped for him at the smallest touch – betrayed the fact that you were deeply into him and relying on him. It felt terrifying, when up until now, you had developed a habit of pulling away from someone whenever you felt that you were relying on them too much. It came from a desire not to put too much pressure on people. Like with Charlie, you never wanted to feel as if you needed him longer than he was willing to stay.

Only, the thing was, that with Oliver, you were slowly learning that this vulnerability could also invite in something wonderful – this wonderful intimacy that made you realize that you weren’t alone in the world after all. The intimacy was blossoming, albeit in sudden and awkward spurts, between you and Oliver, and you knew, deep in your heart, that you didn’t – you couldn’t – let this go.

“Oliver,” you whispered, and your voice betrayed your tenderness towards him.

“Yeah?” Oliver looked into your eyes. You could see that he was trying to read you. He was concentrating, even frowning slightly.

You made the same motion that you had made when you were standing with Oliver at the doorway of the locker rooms – you reached up and gently ran your hand up and down his shoulder. The only difference now was that you also had your legs locked around his waist. It took a bit of effort, since your thighs were spread out, but you managed to lock your feet together atop his back. Only when you were sure you had your legs locked around him, did you manage to ask Oliver what Oliver thought was a rather odd question, “You know how you trained with Puddlemere United over the summer. Can you tell me about your training?”

“You want to know about my training?”

“Yeah. Did you learn about any – um, I don’t know – special move or – or exciting tactic?”

“Special move?” Oliver repeated, amused. “Exciting tactic?”

“Well, I don’t want they’re called exactly,” you said, scowling slightly. “Don’t tease me like this, Oliver Wood. You know what I mean.”

“Okay.” Oliver thought for less than a second, before he recited with perfect certainty, “There’s this move called the Wollongong Shimmy. It’s basically a high speed zig-zag move that has a high chance of confusing and distracting the opposing Chasers. I’m planning on using it against the Hufflepuff team this year. Because you know their Chaser, Zacharias Smith?”

You nodded.

“He’s not too bright.”

You chided, “That’s kind-of a mean thing to say. I’m sure the poor kid’s doing his best.”

“Well, he fell for the same feint six times in a row last year,” Oliver said, defending himself. “I mean, I’d be the fool if I didn’t notice that, right?”

You pretended to sigh. But secretly, you agreed with him.

“Why did you want to know that, though?” Oliver wondered, gazing down at you again.

“Oh, you know,” you replied airily, “I’m learning all I can so I can train my own, secret Quidditch team.”

“Puddlemoor Unified?” Oliver said quickly.

“That’s the one.”

Oliver chuckled. “Only you could get a team name that awfully wrong.”

“It’s not awfully wrong,” you protested. “I’m telling you – that’s my team name.”

“Oh, really? And who’s the Seeker for your team?”

“Me,” you said stubbornly.

“And your Beaters?”

“Me and me.”

“Your Chasers?”

“Me, me, and me.” You lifted your eyebrow at Oliver. “Any more foolish questions, Captain Wood?”

Oliver ruefully shook his head. “No. I’ll watch out for your up and coming team, then.”

You chose that moment to observe, “Besides, ‘Puddlemere United’ is a strange name in the first place.”

“Careful,” Oliver told you. “Your entire wardrobe is now comprised of Puddlemere United items. You don’t want to go insulting yourself now, do you?”

You smiled. He’s so biased when it comes to his own team, and he genuinely doesn’t realize it.

“Fine, fine,” you relented. “It’s only strange when I say it incorrectly. So, it’s my own fault.”

Oliver’s stern expression softened. But then, he reached over and grasped both your hands in his. “You’re avoiding my question,” he said knowingly. “Answer me. Why did you suddenly ask me about my summer training?”

You fidgeted, but you couldn’t help except to clutch Oliver’s warm hands back. And though you avoided Oliver’s gaze, you knew him well enough to picture, even without looking, exactly what kind of eyes he was making.

“I was only curious,” you said, trying to play it off. “I mean, you were away all summer and I… Well, I missed you.” Your voice fell to a very quiet pitch when you said those last three words.

“You keep saying that,” Oliver noticed. “I sent you loads of stuff, to let you know that I was thinking about you. But you still missed me?”

“Not in a bad way,” you explained quickly. “I was really happy that you were at the Puddlemere United training camp. And, well, I often thought about what you might be learning. So I just thought I’d ask you. That’s all.

Oliver was silent for a few seconds.

You swallowed nervously. “Oliver…?”

Oliver stayed right where he was and in his slow, steady voice, that held no judgment whatsoever, said, “Well, but that’s not all.”

Whenever Oliver saw right through you like this, a part of you wanted to run away. Another part of you wished you you could be charming enough to just smooth over the situation, to be playful and light and make it seem like it didn’t matter, just like Charlie had always done for you. But you knew you couldn’t do that.

Yet, being with Oliver was too important to you for you to pretend it didn’t exist. That was how you came to realize, I have to face it head-on.

All right, you decided. You took a deep breath. Then, you spoke, at a rather brisk speed, “This morning, you carried me back up to bed without waking me. When I woke up, you were already at practice, so I didn’t want to bother you. Then, at meals, when we’re in the Great Hall together, I always see you talking about Quidditch with Katie and Alicia. You get so excited, Oliver. It’s really nice to see you like that. And I don’t want to get in the way of that. That’s why… I always try my best to keep to myself. I really do. Only today I couldn’t focus on what I was doing anymore, and I ended up leaving the library to see you. I was going to go watch you practice,” you confessed. As soon as the confession left your lips, you winced and you immediately followed it up with, “I’m being too much, aren’t I? I’m getting in your way.”

Oliver’s stern expression suddenly cleared, only to make way for a look of utter confusion. “Getting in my way?”

“Yes,” you said. “Distracting you when you want to be focused on Quidditch. I come fall asleep on you when you’re trying to study Quidditch moves and then I come watch you while you practice. It’s annoying, right?”

Oliver let out a breath. “No, you’ve got it all wrong.”

“Are you sure? You can tell me the truth. I’ll be okay. Honestly, Oliver, I’m so proud of you. I love that you’re passionate about Quidditch. I don’t ever want you to change that. It’s just that… sometimes I miss you and – and – well, I think about you much more often than you think about me. Again, that’s okay with me! It’s only that… I would hate to get in your way.”

The whole time you were speaking, Oliver was slowly shaking his head. Finally, when he heard you say that phrase of “get in your way” again, he cupped your face in both of his hands and repeated, with heavy emphasis, “No.”

You blinked. “No…?”

“Listen,” Oliver said. He spoke quite steadily, in contrast to your speedy run-through of increasing events in which you thought you were too much. “When you were coming down to the Quidditch pitch, I was coming up to the castle. That’s why we bumped into each other, remember?”

You slowly nodded.

Seeing that you hadn’t quite pieced it together yet, Oliver murmured, “I was coming up to see you.”

You paused. Your hands came up and wrapped themselves around Oliver’s hands. You leaned in slightly, while pressing Oliver’s hands against your cheeks, as you murmured back to him, “You were?”

Oliver smiled at how cute you looked, with your face all nestled between his hands. “Yeah,” he confirmed.

“Oh…” You paused. “But what about this morning? Why didn’t you wake me up for a kiss or something before you left?”

“Well, that’s because – er - ” Oliver flushed slightly, but he carried on and admitted, “You were all curled up around me on the couch and I saw a scar on your – your thigh. I wasn’t really thinking straight and I sort-of reached over to smooth out your scar and to make sure it was healing, but um…”

“What?” you pressed gently.

Oliver bit his lower lip. His brow furrowed for a second, and then, his eyes drooped just slightly at the edges.

Oh, puppy eyes, you recognized. But this time, you didn’t avoid them. Because, funnily enough, where Oliver was anxious, you were not. Physical intimacy was much more familiar to you, and it was something you definitely knew you wanted to explore with Oliver, as long as he wanted it, too.

Trying to be helpful, you whispered, “You know, Oliver, if it’s about touching me – I mean, if you want to touch me, I’m sort-of right here, waiting to be touched.”

Oliver reached up and gently swiped your cheek with the back of his finger. “You’re serious…”

You nodded.

Oliver nodded back at you.

You were both still for yet another moment. A tiny smile graced your lips because of how cute Oliver was being, nodding back at you like that.

Oliver kept staring at you with his lost, slightly pitiful eyes. You could tell that he was trying to collect his thoughts together, so you waited. The only movement you made was to gently kiss his palm.

Finally, Oliver said, “I don’t know if I should say this. I don’t want to put pressure on you. And I think I feel.. what you just said – how you like that I’m passionate about Quidditch. You said you respect me for that, right?”

“Right,” you agreed. You were slightly confused, not knowing where he meant to go with this line of thought.

However, Oliver confessed, “But the truth is, love, I can’t stop thinking about you. I mean, when I’m on the Quidditch pitch, all I’m thinking about is Quidditch. That’s my dream, you know?”

You nodded fervently.

Nodding back slightly yet again, Oliver told you, “But as soon as I’m off the pitch – when I’m sitting in class, when I’m in my room at night, when I’m in the Great Hall for meals – my head is filled with thoughts of… you.”

Oliver’s cheeks were tinged a bright pink, but his voice was quite steady, as he asked you, “Is that all right?”

You nodded softly. You wondered if Oliver could hear how quickly your heart was thrumming in your chest.

Oliver let out a breath of relief.

Oliver’s fingers traced your cheek. He whispered, “What about you?”

“Me too,” you whispered back.

You felt Oliver’s fingers drift down your face, until he was tracing the cupid’s bow of your lips. When you felt his fingers press lightly against your lower lip, you whispered, “Maybe this is overkill to say, but I’d be sad if you felt any other way.”

Upon hearing that, Oliver wrapped his arms around you and he pressed you down against the bed once more. “Well, no need for that,” he murmured, while kissing your face all over. “I am thinking about you all the time. I do feel everything for you.”

Oliver’s voice had never been softer. You sank back into the mattress willingly, while at the same time, furiously trying to return his kisses by kissing his hands and arms all over. Finally, you kissed your way back up to his lips, and you grasped at Oliver with one hand on the back of his neck, bringing him back down on the bed with you. As your kisses grew more and more heated, you found yourself reaching down and naturally slipping off your shirt.

Oliver didn’t notice until you broke away from him to slip your shirt over your head. But when he realized what was going on, his mouth fell open slightly. Because the sight of you lying back on the bed for him, with your shirt off for him, was such a pretty sight. Oliver took in every last detail of you – from the way you had your head cocked slightly atop the pillow to look up at him, to the way the end of your hair curled around the edges of your favorite pillow, to the way your shoulders curved so gracefully and your collar bones appeared so delicate, to the way your cheeks were painted with the softest flush and illumination, to the way your toned little tummy and your sweet, soft curves were there for him to see and touch, and the way your breasts, cupped in some soft lacy thing that Oliver feared he'd break with his pinky finger, all came together to form… you.

You.

Oliver breathed out.

“See?” you murmured teasingly. “I do exist under all the Puddlemere United clothing.”

“Guess you do,” Oliver murmured back. He reached out and placed his hand on your tummy.

You felt him start to slide his hand up, but then he paused. You could almost see him thinking out loud, wondering how far up he could push his hand before it was too far.

Reaching down, you took Oliver’s hand. Then, you guided his hand to touch you all over – first, slipping his hand over your tummy, then up between your breasts to your throat, and down again, this time down your side, so he could feel every bit of your shape.

You closed your eyes and moaned out softly. His hand is so warm…

You guided his hand back up, but, to your happy surprise, this time, when you led Oliver’s hand to go up to your shoulder, his pinky just flicked out and pushed your bra strap off of your shoulder.

You smiled, realizing he wanted your bra off. Letting go of Oliver’s hand for a moment, you reached back and slowly undid your bra.

Oliver watched your bra fall away to reveal your sweet, supple breasts. At the same time, you reached up and casually brushed back your hair.

Oliver blinked. A strange, tingling feeling of intense want came over him when he saw you do that small, casual motion of brushing back your hair.

Grasping Oliver’s hand again, you pulled his hand up to your mouth and you softly bit at his fingertips before choosing his index finger to suck on.

Oliver swallowed. He could feel himself starting to respond to you.

Just then, you breathed out, “Oliver…”

“What is it?”

“I want to… see you too…”

“With my shirt off, you mean?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered a little as you tried to speak while sucking on his finger.

Oliver moaned in his head. Godric, I think of her in almost all of my waking hours, but I never imagined her like this. Shit. How can I keep it together? I’ve got to keep myself together for her. Right? She wouldn’t like me slobbering all over her, right? Right.

“Oliver…?” It’d been a couple of minutes since you’d made your request, but Oliver hadn’t moved.

Oh, shit! Oliver suddenly realized that he’d been so busy trying to “keep it together” that he’d slipped up.

“Uh, sorry,” he said awkwardly. He rather abruptly reached for the hem of his shirt. However, as he gripped the end of his shirt, he suddenly thought, What if she doesn’t like what she sees? I don’t… I don’t think she’ll like what I look like. I mean, she’s pushed up my shirt before, but she was so busy kissing me all over that I don’t think she actually saw what I look like.

The truth was, Oliver was rather self-conscious about his body. He felt he was both too muscular and too small at the same time. He didn’t have the height thing or the broad-shoulder thing going on, at least not compared to the other Quidditch players he trained with, and he’d tried to overcome that by bulking up and building muscle. He’d ended up with quite an athletic body, but it wasn’t necessarily… nice to look at, or so he thought. When trainers had seen his body, they’d snickered at him because they were surprised at how muscular he was without actually being a large-statured player. “Looks like you reached your potential, kid,” one trainer had said to him.

Oliver imagined you being disgusted by his body, and he paused.

Sensing his sudden anxiety, you ran your hands gently over his thighs, but you didn’t say anything, making it clear that any decision he made was fine with you. You trusted him, which, in turn, made it easy for him to trust you.

Yeah, Oliver thought, I reckon that if it’s her… if it’s in front of her, it’s all right.

He slowly stripped off his shirt.

You took in the sight of Oliver, bare-chested, leaning over you slightly.

“Wow…” you murmured, without even realizing what you were saying.

Oliver sighed in resignation. “You think I look weird, don’t you?” He made to put his shirt back on, but you stopped him.

“Not at all. Rather… I get why you think I should work out more.” You ran your hand admiringly up his abs. “Compared to you, I’m a blob.”

Surprised, Oliver burst out into a soft, genuine chuckle.

You laughed, too. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

As you spoke, you gently pulled away Oliver’s shirt and threw it to the side. You didn’t want him to put it back on. You liked looking at him and being able to touch his bare chest and stomach.

Meanwhile, Oliver playfully walked two fingers up and down your tummy. “Yeah, I was surprised at how soft you were, given how strong you are. Think you could use some abs right about here.”

Grinning, you told him, “They’re there, silly. They just have to be coaxed out.”

“Maybe you’re the type of person where your muscles only get activated when you’re angry,” Oliver teased you. “That would make sense to me.”

“Fine,” you teased back. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Oliver Wood. I only become strong when I’m annoyed at you.”

“Hm…” Oliver cocked his head at you. “So, what happens when I make you happy?”

“Ah, good question,” you replied. “When you please me – well, I think I get all soft for you and… um, you know this already, but…” You glanced up at him. Hoping it wasn’t too much, you whispered in a small, slightly embarrassed voice, “well, I get a little bit wet…” You reached down and softly slipped your fingers just between your legs and you pressed at the middle of your skirt. “…Um, right here…”

Oliver’s eyes followed your hand, and when he saw your hand slip in-between your thighs, he bit his lower lip. And when you whispered, “right here,” Oliver suddenly hugged you tightly to him, almost lifting you off of the bed for a moment.

“Ah!” You found your face pushed against his chest, and his stomach was pressed against your tummy, and his hips had pushed your thighs apart even more.

“Oliver…?” you whispered, puzzled. Why’s he suddenly holding onto me so tightly?

“I want to see you, bare for me,” Oliver murmured to you fervently. “Please. Be a good girl and undress for me.”

The way Oliver used that phrase – “good girl” – it wasn’t as if he was trying to be seductive or trying to get you to do something for him. It was more of a honest request – that he thought it would be good if you could please do this thing for him, and that made your heart thrum all the more.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Yeah, I can – Um, just let me - ” It was a bit of a challenge, to push your skirt up and then slip your hands down to be able to tug down your panties. You didn’t get them very far down your thighs, because of far apart your thighs were split already.

You whispered, “I – I think I need you to move for me to…”

“Hm? Oh.” Oliver glanced down. He meant to push himself away from you a little, but then he caught a glimpse of you, he stopped and breathed out rather harshly. Your cute little pussy, glistening slightly, was waiting for him. What was more, there was a slightly wet spot in the middle of your panties, which you’d pulled down a little ways for him.

Without thinking about it, Oliver reached down and gently pressed his hand against your tummy, in order to hold your skirt up out of the way so he could look at you.

“Fuck,” he breathed out.

You paused. You couldn’t remember the last Oliver had cursed, and certainly not like that.

Oliver slowly ran his hands up and down your thighs. He could feel you straining a little, and he could see how tightly your panties had been pulled across your thighs.

He ran his finger across the part of your panties that were digging into your thigh. “You’re stretching these out, love. I reckon you won’t be able to wear these again.”

You said seriously, “They don’t say Puddlemere United on them, so I don’t care.”

Oliver was surprised, but he gave you an affectionate smile. It’s so surprising that she’s shy and self-conscious about things like holding hands in public or admitting that she brought chocolates to me, but when we’re together like this, she’s very confident and suddenly I’m the shy one.

Yes, somehow it seemed effortless for you, to show yourself before him, to tell him that you wanted him, to loop your arms around him and kiss him, to say little phrases that sent his mind spinning… Oliver thought it was partly because he was so into you, but he also realized that you were naturally comfortable with physical intimacy in ways that he wasn’t yet, and that brought a whole other dimension into your relationship.

She both is and isn’t who I imagined her to be, Oliver thought. She’s more. Much more. He reached over and gently tangled his finger with a strand of your hair. I want to find out more about her.

You loved the way Oliver touched you. There was something so starkly in contrast between his tough, burly body and the hesitant way in which he touched you. You had now come to realize that those puppy eyes of Oliver’s weren’t just some trick to make you do what he wanted; there really was a substantial part of him that felt a bit lost in the world, that was confused by the fact that no one seemed to understand what he valued most.

However, while in your mind, you were content forever to simply lie there and let Oliver touch you gently, your body was growing increasingly impatient, especially between your thighs. You didn’t realize it, but not only had you wrapped your legs around Oliver’s waist, but now you were desperately pressing your thighs against Oliver’s hips tighter and tighter as your need for him grew.

Oliver reached up and slid his hand in your hair, gently pushing your head back so you would look at him. He murmured, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Huh?”

“You’re squeezing your legs against me.”

“Oh!” You hurriedly started to relax your legs, but Oliver reached down, and sliding his hands under your thighs and just under your ass, he gently pushed you so that your legs were resting higher on his body, and your pussy was presented right in front of him.

Oliver moaned. “Uhn, so pretty, sweetheart…”

“T-Touch me,” you stuttered out. A bit hurriedly, you reached over and grabbed his wrist. Guiding his hand to you, you had Oliver gently push his fingers against your clit.

At once, you breathed in rather sharply. Then, as you had Oliver softly rub your clit, you moaned and your thighs shivered.

“You’re so sensitive,” Oliver murmured, watching your thighs quiver in response to his touch.

“I love your hands,” you whispered. “You’re so warm, Oliver. It feels so… so good when you touch me. Ah, yes…!”

You became quite wet, at which point, you took his hand and slowly had him push the tip of his finger inside of you.

“Oh, fuck,” Oliver groaned. “You’re all – all tight.” He felt his cock throb heavily in response to you.

At this point, you couldn’t hold it together quite as well as you meant to, and you ended up confessing, “Oliver, I – Oh, God, please, I need you so bad. I don’t want to – to rush you, but I wanna feel you inside me. Deep inside me.”

“O-oh, oh, okay.” Flustered, Oliver quickly made to take off his pants. You helped him, undoing his button and zipper for him.

Oliver tried not to feel embarrassed as he became completely naked in front of you. He didn’t understand why he felt this way. He had to do daily check-ins with his trainers and he shared open shower stalls with his teammates all the time, but with you… With you… He supposed he just wanted you to like him back.

And you did. Without any hesitation whatsoever, you took your opportunity to caress and please Oliver – and clearly, you savored it. You were gentle, but very eager, as you ran your hands all along his cock before guiding his cock to your waiting pussyhole. You moaned with anticipation as you needily ran the tip of his cock up and down your glistening slit. You had Oliver lean forward just a little – not enough to enter you, but enough to make you feel that wonderful pressure right at your tight, aching, little hole.

Flustered as you were, however, you first looked up at Oliver and asked, “Are you – Are you okay, Oliver?”

Vaguely, Oliver wondered, Am I okay if I feel like my heart’s racing in my chest and chest is so tight I can barely breathe… and all because I want you so much? But Oliver clutched onto your thighs and he managed to smile as he whispered, in a truthful answer, “Yeah, I think so. I’m with you.”

You smiled back at him. It wasn’t a normal happy-go-lucky smile, but a genuinely pleased, almost shy smile. Ah, he feels comfortable with me. That’s all I want.

You gently lifted your legs and, pressing your thighs to his sides once more, you slowly drew him closer. Slowly, he pressed into you little by little…

Oliver gritted his teeth together. He’d thought you felt tight on his finger; the way you felt on his cock was just – just – unbearably tight and squeezing.

He groaned. “Fuck,” he huffed out hard. “Fuck, that’s – that’s tight.”

“Ah, sorry,” you whispered in a small voice. You were trying to relax, but honestly, you’d wanted this moment of being with Oliver for so long and he was spreading you out so well, not only your thighs now, but also your tight little pussyhole, that it was hard for you to stop your pussy from clenching on his cock straight away. Also, you couldn’t stop your thighs from pressing harder against Oliver and you couldn’t seem to make your taut little tummy relax either. Everything felt so tense and tight.

“Just, um, can you rock – ah – back and forth a little?” you asked Oliver, hoping that he could open you up a little and help you relax. Because you couldn’t wait to have his cock deep inside you. You couldn’t wait – you needed it, needed to feel your boyfriend as deep inside of you as he could go, needed to feel him rocking and pushing and eventually, pounding, into your tight little pussy.

Oliver, reaching over to hold you even closer to him, buried his face against your neck, as he cautiously began to move his hips, to ease his way inside of you.

You shut your eyes tightly, as you felt his cock start to push and pull in and out of your pussy.

Oliver pushed a little deeper. For that brief moment, you accidentally squeezed Oliver’s shoulders so hard that your nails dug into him. Oliver let out a soft groan of surprise and accidentally thrust forward slightly, pushing himself even deeper inside of you.

“A-ah! Oliver, n-not so f-fast,” you huffed out. But then, as your eyes flew open and you realized that you were gripping onto him rather too tightly, you quickly let go of him and instead chose to grip onto the sheets.

Oliver, seeing you grip onto your sheets with tight fists that bunched up the fabric, said worriedly, “Sorry, sorry, are you okay?”

“‘M okay,” you reassured him quickly. “Sorry I clutched onto you like that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Oliver reassured you right back.

The two of you looked at each other and smiled a little sheepishly, feeling the awkwardness and the tenderness of it all.

You took this moment to ask him, though slightly shyly, “Um, I know you’re not all the way inside me yet, but… but how do I feel… to you?”

“Honestly?” Oliver said, in a slightly hoarse voice. “I’m having a rather hard time holding back. I – uh – I don’t have anything to compare this to, but you’re so tight. I want to…” His voice became a bit raspier as he confessed, “… take you.”

Your pussy gave a tiny little thump when you heard him rasp out the words “take you.”

Oliver, feeling your pussy walls gently squeeze around his cock, looked up at you to check, “What about you? Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

You shook your head at him. “No, you’re not hurting me. You’re actually spreading me out so well.” You reached up and gently patted his cheek, making Oliver smile ruefully at you. “So well.”

“Good. I want to make you feel good,” Oliver said, and his voice was warm. He meant it. “Relax for me just a little more, love. Spread your thighs… That’s it. Good girl.”

You sighed in happiness as you settled back.

Oliver grasped onto your thighs this time, with his strong hands leaving light, blushing imprints on the softness of your thighs, as he gently pulled you to him.

As you shifted down the bed towards Oliver, you felt his cock sink deeper into you. You let out a soft, arching moan. “Ah…”

Oliver’s kept rocking back and forth, entering you slowly to make sure you were adjusting to him as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you.

However, Oliver could feel the tension growing within himself. His cock was already aching and throbbing inside of you. He was trying to calm himself, too, as he took it slow with you, but you were so tight, and the vision of you moaning and squirming with even the slightest push of his hips.

Finally, he moaned out, “I – I think I’m close.”

Before you could even respond, Oliver suddenly gripped your thighs quite tightly and pushed into you a little harder.

“Ah!”

“Sorry!” he said immediately.

“N-No, it’s fine,” you said quickly. “Keep going! P-Please, keep going.”

Oliver didn’t need to be told twice.

Your eyes flew open in surprise when Oliver suddenly took you in intensely sharp, hard thrusts. He wasn’t necessarily being rough with you. Certainly, he wasn’t rushing or messy all of a sudden. No, Oliver seemed completely in control, but, whether he realized it or not, he was thrusting into you quite deep and quite hard.

“Ah! H-Hah! Ahh!” You gasped loudly with each thrust, completely taken aback by how suddenly he’d switched from the most cautious rocking to the deepest thrusts. His thighs slammed up against your ass with each thrust, and you heard the bedsprings creak – bedsprings that you’d never heard before in your life.

Oliver moaned hotly against your neck as he drove his hips into you. He was so lost in the moment - fuzzy-headed with the heat of it all, overwhelmed with the scent and warmth and feeling of you. Taking me so well, taking me so – fucking – well, he growled out in his head.

“O-Oh my G-God!” you stuttered out, as you felt Oliver driving his cock deep into your pussy over and over again.

You were crying out loudly, feeling your every breath pushed out of your body by how intensely Oliver was making love to you. Yes, he worked you so hard. He couldn’t help but be earnest and intense in everything he did, and you loved him for it. Your cries became higher and higher, and more and more desperate, until you gasped out loudly, “Baby! P-Please – uhn!”

Good girl, good girl, good girl, Oliver panted out in his head, in time to his pounding into your tight, soft pussy. He swore your pussy was getting tighter and wetter and warmer and he kept snapping his hips forward thoughtlessly. Instinct and feeling had kicked in for Oliver, and all he knew was that the only pleasure and release that could be found was somewhere deep inside of your perfect little pussy.

“Ah…!” you cried out and you thrashed out with your legs. It didn’t matter, though, as Oliver had you pinned down so tightly against the mattress that you didn’t move one bit away from him, no matter how much you squirmed.

However, only a few minutes of this intense love-making had passed, when Oliver suddenly collapsed on top of you.

You gasped and instinctively hugged him tightly as you fell back flat on the bed. Oliver moaned loudly as he buried his face in your sheets, just over your shoulder. He found himself surrounded by the scent and warmth of you in this intense moment, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He fisted your sheets, too, gripping at them harshly on either side of your shoulders, as he felt himself start to cum.

Oh, wait, pull out, pull out! Oliver abruptly wrenched himself away from you and barely managed to pull out before he came all over your tummy.

Panting hard, cheeks flushed a bright pink, you lifted your head and stared in complete awe as Oliver came on your stomach.

Oliver let out the softest moan as he finished. “Uhn…”

You swallowed hard, affected by his puppy voice even in this intense moment.

Putting his hands down on the bed on either side of your hips, Oliver bent over to try and catch his breath. “Sorry,” he whispered throatily. “That was – um – embarrassingly quick, huh?”

You hugged him and kissed the top of his head. “It’s okay, baby,” you giggled softly.

Oliver lay on top of you, panting still. You, too, were breathing hard and trying to get your breath back.

After a few minutes had passed, with the two of you lying there, all wrapped up in each other’s arms, keeping each other safe and warm, and with you running your fingers through Oliver’s soft hair, you suddenly remarked, “You started off all shy, but then you got so into it…”

“Don’t say it like that,” Oliver protested.

“And then you got all overwhelmed.” You giggled again. “Gosh, you’re a lot cuter than I thought.”

“Hey.” Oliver lifted his head. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well.” You looked at him, meaning to tease him incessantly. But the minute you say Oliver, lying on top of you, all spent, but still trying to gaze up at you with a rather serious gaze, you melted.

I can’t tease him when he looks so cute, you thought. And when he worked himself so hard for me.

With a soft sigh, you admitted instead, “It means you’re kind-of wonderful… and sweet… and…”

Your voice trailed off as Oliver shifted forward and kissed you again. Oliver was still slightly breathless, and you could feel the quickness in his breath and correspondingly, in his chest.

You felt so fond of him in this moment that you couldn’t help but to pick up on teasing him again. “So, I must’ve felt good, huh?” you said knowingly. “You were all shy. Didn’t even want to help me take off my jumper. And then, ten minutes later, you were fucking me like an animal. You almost ripped my sheets, you know.”

Oliver, determinedly looking away from you, chose that moment to wonder, “Where’s that soft pillow of yours?”

“Hm? Oh, I think it fell on the floor.” You looked at Oliver and said, with a happy twinkle in your eye, “You were making the whole bed shift at one point. That’s probably when it fell off.”

Discretely hiding his face, Oliver leaned over and picked up the pillow for you. He slotted it under your head. He picked up your shirts, too, and you both slipped them on again.

Oliver laid down beside you. He reached over his hand, until he was gently massaging the back of your head.

Smiling, you rested your head against your soft pillow and savored this moment with Oliver.

“What’s made you so happy?” Oliver asked, seeing you smile. “It’s like your entire energy’s changed.”

Without opening your eyes, you replied easily, “Silly. It’s you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” You reached out and placed your hand on his chest. “You.”

“Now,” you said, yawning, “I’m going to sleep. If you have to go somewhere, could you please wake me up before you go?”

“Sure,” Oliver promised. But he didn’t want to go anywhere. In fact, as you rolled over to hug your blankets as you drifted off into sleep, he found himself wishing you were closer to him.

A minute later, Oliver, who was quietly falling asleep himself, blearily looked over at you. He sleepily thought that he didn’t quite like how far away you were from him. Still, you looked so peaceful and happy over there, all curled up in your blanket, that the last thing he wanted to do was to disturb you. Instead, he reached out with his hand and gently clutched the back of your shirt with two fingers, as he’d done before several times when he wanted to feel close to you, but didn’t want to bother you, either.

Oliver had never dreamed that you would be afraid of bothering him. Kind-of naive of her, he thought tiredly, to think she’d ever get in my way. When I’ve only ever… wanted her… closer…

Tagged Users: @imma-too-many-fandoms @saltstacks

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #oliver wood #oliver wood smut #oliver wood x reader #ash & skylight

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