#oliver wood x y/n

[rjunhuang]

how the harry potter boys would react to you hooking up with someone else. — part two.

featuring: cedric diggory, neville longbottom, blaise zabini, oliver wood, theodore nott.

warnings: lowercase intended. gender neutral reader. informal writing?? they're a bit toxic. bullying. boys are dumb. kissing. unhealthy coping mechanisms. my depiction/fanon!theo. mentions of weed, smoking & other substances. mentions of sex.

note: here's ur part two!! thank u for all the love and support for the first part. y'all had me smiling and shit. send in requests for more prompts if y'all would like that.

part one | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

cedric!  there's no doubt that cedric diggory is a people's pleaser. all in all, he has a heart of gold but he's blinded by naivety to realise the red flags of his friend group. unfortunately, their toxicity does sometimes have an affect on the said golden boy. thus how a heated and disheartened rant about how you chose roger davies over him to his friends would lead to gossip, tattletales, and undeniable amounts of insolent comments. the 'rumours' of you and davies would spread like wildfire with those chatterboxes, and especially not positive ones on the ravenclaw guy. you'd caught clear moments where cedric would be snickering along with his mates as their eyes followed the motions of your boytoy.

he'd been laying down on the fresh grass with the support of his elbow, a cheeky grin spread across his lips as his gaze switches back and forth between his friends and the couple. some goon would get the brilliant idea to throw a core of an apple at roger. cedric's cheery expression would immediately drain out of him and be replaced with one of regret — "wait, come on, you didn't have to do that." he'd even shoot you a sympathetic look when your gazes connect.

this would be a common occurrence as his friends only grew more confident with their obvious distaste towards your fling. almost every matter would result in an apology from cedric, whether verbal or not.

"my friend was being a dick so, uhm, sorry about him. truly." his voice soft and airy; it brings the same sensation as a sugar cookie.

on the other side of things, you'd begun receiving bouquets of flowers and hampers of your favourite foods — someone was definitely keeping an eye on what you sneakily snacked on during classes. it would always be signed with a beautiful doodle of a butterfly, and sometimes if you were lucky enough, a short sentence of a romantic affirmation. it would've been creepy had there not been cute attempts from your admirer to prove otherwise. every note addressed to you would always have some sort of psa in brackets like 'i'll totally stop if you want me to', 'i really hope i'm not coming off as creepy' or a silly self-deprecating joke to turn the intensity of it all down. it also couldn't be creepy given the time with cedric's friends and this secret admirer fiasco being so obviously correlated.

you knew for certain that these gifts weren't coming from roger. sure, the attention the ravenclaw gave you made you feel desired and attractive.. but he barely even cared to get to know you. dates with roger were so dang boring — it felt like an awkward, unwarranted staring contest. it was clear he was only attracted to you visually. roger would never know you the way this secret admirer (who was so obviously diggory) did. it made you feel giddy — the epitome of a high school student in love. it wouldn't be long before you dump davies.

entering his muggle studies classroom, cedric would find a note placed on the desk where he usually sits, along with a daffodil. it reads — 'i hope you like flowers, diggory, because our date's going to be at the greenhouse.' unlike him though, the note is signed with the clear letters of your name. it's safe to say cedric was having trouble focusing on the rest of his class, his head in the clouds at the thought of you returning feelings.

neville!  it's unspoken rule that you and neville longbottom were to be herbology partners no matter what. it became a habit after years of doing so. you two worked best in the partnership of each other, earning highest ranks in the subject throughout all your years. but.. that was it, really. the moment you stepped out of the greenhouse and entered to real world of hogwarts, all sense of familiarity between one another left your bodies. you always chalked it up as neville being too shy to interact with you outside of class, and vice versa. it didn't really bother you. something about those tender moments during class hours warmed you up like no other. it was special and vulnerable and if it could only be obtained between the confines of many plants and some jabbering students; so be it. 

to neville, it made sense that you guys were strangers outside of herbology. i mean, merlin, you were one of a kind. you brought a light into a room that no one could resist looking away from. like moths drawn to a flame, you gained sort of a status among popularity. there was no way a guy like neville should be seen near a person like you. or so he thought. 

it shouldn't have been a surprise that neville was one of the last to find out that you were going on dates with dean thomas of all wizards. aesthetically (and probably personally for all he knew too), dean and you were a match made in heaven. both popular enough, well-liked, and most certainly good-looking. yet despite it all, neville still couldn't help but feel so bummed. he didn't even want to think of what it meant for your upcoming lessons in herbology together. how you'd stop clutching onto his shoulder to laugh at whatever awkwardly funny thing he'd said or no longer timidly compliment his good work for the day before leaving the class. would you smile at him less? reserve them for dean instead? the thought was awful enough and neville was certain he didn't want to know the answer to these insecurities. 

when the next lesson of herbology rolled in, you were definitely surprised to see neville seated with hannah abbott instead. you tried to shrug it off, thinking of it as a one time occurrence. but, oh, were you so wrong. 

he was ignoring you. you knew by the way he'd purposefully avoided your eyes with a gulp as you'd try to catch his attention during class. he'd placed himself rows away from you, secretly admiring you with yearnful eyes. the thought of you and dean never left his mind. and if you tried to talk to him? he was straight out the door the minute class was dismissed, running away in his usual, clumsy manner.

the lack of neville's presence in your life saddened you a lot more than you expected. you found yourself drawn to the greenhouses even during odd hours, reminiscing over the memories you had spent there with the gryffindor boy among the years.

the dirt under your hands seems to ease your mind of any worries as you take it upon yourself to fix a broken potted plant. you'd be so preoccupied by the task, you fail to notice a certain boy walk in and get stunned by the sight of you in there. neville's arm flying up and almost knocking over an empty glass jar was what brings your attention to him. you have to resist the small smile creeping up the corner of your lips.  neville, on the other hand, straightens up after he gently places the jar where it supposed to be. his head is down as he mumbles, "right, sorry, i'l—" "stay." your gloved hand immediately flies over to grab his wrist, doing your best not to dirty him. "please." the pleading eyes of yours seem to work as neville makes no attempt to dash out as usual. he stays firm in his place, watching you with wide eyes. seeing that he doesn't speak up, you do the honours instead. "i've missed you. you don't seem to want to sit with me anymore." you gently start with a soft smile.  the words 'i've missed you' knock the wind right out of neville. his heart stutters and mind dizzies. "oh— i just— dean, you know? thought you wouldn't have wanted to talk to me anymore. i—i mean dean's great! perfect! you're super fit. obviously, great. who wouldn't like you? hah, i certainly do, but i didn't want to bother—" your lips are crashing against his the next second with burning cheeks. it shuts neville up from his rambling. he can only gawk at you when you pull away, his face beet red. "i think you're pretty fit yourself, nev." you manage giggle out.

blaise!  michael corner was great. those were the words you used to describe your recent date with him. those were also the words your friends, pansy parkinson and theodore nott, affirmed back to you. they, along with a silent blaise zabini, were the first to hear the news about your love life's new contender. 

sitting by the courtyard, you twiddle your thumbs nervously after revealing your budding romance with corner. pansy, the closest to you physically and personally, happens to notice your skittish demeanour — well, it's hard not to. "michael corner? the ravenclaw? that's great. he's great." her voice slightly strains and you don't know if this is her attempt to ease your nerves or if she's incapable of genuinely complimenting a man.  "oh, yeah — great." theodore adds, with a devillish grin, which earns a shove on the shoulder from the girl. they then share an odd look (well, more of a glare from pansy) together. there's a silent conversation happening which only confuses you. who knew nott and parkinson suddenly gained the ability of telepathy. dismissing their odd reactions, you take the opportunity to glance over to blaise — who has his head down, reading a potions textbook. you don't know why you yearn for blaise's approval but he remains silent, deeply entrenched in his reading. you chalk it up to him being in one of his nonverbal, introverted moods and don't try to take his lack of interest in the news too personally.

over the course of time, nothing much changed between your friend group. it still contained the dynamic of pansy and theodore bickering, whilst you and blaise mediated. though, once in a while, you jumped in on the banter yourself.

"oh, nothing better than ganging up on nott, yeah?" theodore would sarcastically chime in with the roll of his eyes.

things with michael had been going well enough, a little slow maybe. your time spent with your friends on some days got cut short due to your plans with him. sometimes, you swore you saw a twitch in blaise's jaw whenever you brought up your fling's name. but maybe that was your imagination — how could blaise be annoyed or upset if his expression remained completely neutral? had you not known him better, one might think he was bored in the company of his friends with that face of his. 

after weeks of slacking off, you decide to make this particular day a studious and productive one. given your big age, it was best to be responsible and get some extra reading done for your studies. you can't blame blaise for his similar habits — education at hogwarts seemed to be growing tougher day by day. it's why today you'd do your rare visit to the library. struggling to reach for a copy of 'magical drafts and potions', you feel yourself grow a little self-conscious by your foolish-looking predicament. however, a hand from behind startles you, saving you from the plight. you blink in surprise, craning your head to see who this mysterious helper is. blaise is looking down at you with a hint of a smirk. he's still hovering behind you, hand clutched onto the spine of your desired book. the ghost of his smirk is irresistible to look at. you feel a little shameless staring at his lips like this but, merlin, the intensity of this moment has you fully engulfed. you swear you see his smirk widen a little and blaise takes the opportunity to poke fun at your blatant staring. "still think you want corner?" blaise's voice is monotone to a deaf ear, but you can tell he's feeling a bit smug.  he gives you no chance to reply, handing the book over before walking out. you stand there baffled, bewildered and actually questioning if any other wizard could set your heart ablaze the way zabini just did.

oliver!  oliver wood loved his routines. he loved to wake up at dawn to train before the morning birds are even ready to sing. he, well, endured the classes he's forced to sit and progress through in order to keep quidditch in his life. he loved to charge back into the fields after lunch, ready for another day of practice. and surprisingly to most, he loved to hang out with you by the black lake afterwards, all sweaty and disheveled from the exhilarating sport. 

he's not oliver wood if he's breaking these habits.

so the one day he didn't show up to your cute little meeting point, you're stunned. you thought — oh godric, all those jokes you made about 'a bludger getting to him before you-know-who ever did' have finally come true. he must be dead if he's not living up to his schedule! 

but you're wrong. he's certainly not in the care of madam pomfrey or working overtime at the quidditch field as both places were definitely deserted when you came by to check. 

so where the hell was the captain? see, unbeknownst to you, oliver caught you snogging marcus flint right as he approached the lake. slytherin quidditch captain marcus flint. he found it crazy how out of all the students you could've picked to kiss, it was the one man oliver despised. they were practically enemies. and though you owed him no decision-making in your love life, oliver felt betrayed. hence, he turned his heels, making no effort to disturb the two of you as he stormed his way back to his dorm. 

the following silent treatment and petty attitude from him left you more or less disheartened. he was a close confidant, and the way he managed to drop you without a word shattered you. he'd stop talking to you overall. you even learned from a conversation with alicia spinnet that he'd started to become a lot more grumpy during practices — harder on his teammates, giving them lesser breaks, he'd brought forth a sort of 'no pain, no gain' attitude into the environment.

any time you glanced his way, you noticed the bags under his dark eyes. clearly, his nights were nothing but restless. if you thought he was obsessed with quidditch before? you'd hate to see him now. he'd never left the fields or his broom unless madam hooch or, worse, professor mcgonagall dragged him out of there by his ear themselves.

concerned would be an understatement. this man was tweaking out all because of you and flint. pretty sure he'd recovered from quidditch loses better than this. 

you're practically rushing to the hospital wing when you hear the news that wood collapsed in the middle of practice. that lack of sleep must've gotten to him because oliver is beyond exhausted. madam pomfrey has forced him into bedrest (she'd have him shackled to the beds had it not been illegal) — he can certainly lay off quidditch for a while. worry paints your features as you peer down at oliver, clutching onto the side of the bed. he can only (attempt to) glare at you as you flood him with questions about his health. "why haven't you been sleeping? have you been eating? why are you overworking yourself like this — interhouse isn't until next season." oliver scoffs, his throat a little croaky. "why do you care?" he grumbles, crossing his arms like an upset toddler in the process. "don't you have flint to fret over?"  and it hits you — after days of this trivial behaviour from wood — that this man was fucking jealous. you don't know if it's inconsiderate to laugh at this realisation, so you resist. "we ended things." is all you give him, holding back from any sort of expression. it's clear you really don't feel bummed by it. the reaction you get from him is beyond elated. he breaks out into a grin and you can practically see the confidence return to his system. he's looking at you like he wants to sweep you off your feet and kiss you. like he's just won the lottery. so bloody euphoric, all oliver can reply is "oh."

theodore!  he is a pretty codependent person in my eyes. especially since he's recovering from a weighted past. when you started hooking up with ernie macmillan, all his bad habits came crashing down. you were his anchor — he'd often vent to you about his problems with his father at home or whatever struggles he faced with his friends sometimes. he hated to know that any brewing feelings he had towards you were never going to be reciprocated. 

he started going to class high. it's so miserable to witness. he promised you before that he'd quit or at least lay off on his substance related habits a bit — that he'd only do it socially if he wanted. showing up to class with red eyes and a mind elsewhere was not smoking socially. it's a miracle professor snape had his biases towards slytherins because if another teacher as observant as the greasy haired twat were to catch theodore, he could kiss goodbye to hogwarts. thankfully, snape never noticed this change either, too busy shaming a gryffindor during his classes instead. 

soon, you were hearing rumours of nott breaking every girls heart out there. it's one game after another with them. which was all the more surprising because theodore was never really a player. most of the public saw him as one of those untouchable hot guys — he was much less likely to sleep around compared to his other slytherin companions. it was like theodore had done a full hundred and eighty. his mindset was; if you were going to be messy, why couldn't he?

your final straw would be at the news of his newfound habit of getting into fights. seeing him enter the great hall every morning with a black eye became an uncomfortably common occurrence. sporting and piling up this many wounds was a horrific sight. it seemed like even malfoy and his goons were growing concerned.

theodore had been on his way out after breakfast — probably ready to sneak into a hidden cranny or abandoned room to light himself a joint before classes were to start. only merlin knew whether he'd decide to skip a few of these classes or not today. his exit out the great hall was cut short when he passes by the hufflepuff table. in a matter out seconds, one of the boys from the house is pinned to the table, food scattered and other peers watching in horror. theodore's knuckles turn white from how hard he's clutching onto the guy's collar.  you can only helplessly shoot up from wherever you're seated. the expression theodore holds is too grim that you have no backbone to interfere. whatever he's sneering to the hufflepuff is inaudible to the rest of the students present. it's not long before one of the faculty pulls them apart — "it's far too early for such nonsense!" screeches mcgonagall in her distinguished scottish accent.

judging by whatever the hell you had witnessed earlier that morning, you knew you couldn't keep allowing theo to shut you out like this.

pacing around in circles, you wait in the moonlit courtyard for your close friend. without a doubt, he'd show up in need to escape the chaos of the slytherin dungeon. there'd been many nights where the two of you sat here together, hiding from patrolling teachers or mr. filch. the theodore with you then was boisterous, happy, healing. he felt far from the guy you were about to confront. a soft footstep against the gravel behind you is the signal that gets you to whip around. you face the dark haired man with a stern expression, walking over to him in a fierce manner. "what the fuck has been going on with you?!" you whisper-shout, frustration evident when you shove his chest back.  theo's reaction is to clench his jaw, his eyes not daring to meet yours as he looks away. he stumbles back a bit from your push. "i don't know what you're talking about." he attempts to brush you off. feigning nonchalance and disinterest, he keeps his hands stuffed into his pockets. this doesn't stop you from inquiring further. you bring up anything you can — "is it your father again?", "malfoy then?", "stress? merlin, theodore, just talk to me." the two of you bicker back and forth, each sentence spat growing more and more exasperated.  finally, theo fesses up, tired of your endless and awfully oblivious queries. "merlin— it's you!" he hisses out, running a desperate hand down his brown locks. "it's you and your loser loverboy and how my stupid heart can't fucking handle watching you be happy in the arms of another man who isn't me." you notice how the rim of his eyes begin to grow red. it startles you but you can't ignore the excitement in your heart either. "and you thought it was smarter to ignore me rather than confess?" for the first time in the argument, your tone is one of lighthearted humour with the corner of your lips itching to smile. 

[dearhnymn]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭..

(bf!oliver wood edition)

has spent so much of his life laser-focused on quidditch that dating isn't second nature to him

would fumble a bit at first: he'd show up to dates late because practice ran over

..or accidentally launch into a tactical breakdown of the last match instead of head-on flirting

once he starts dating you though, he takes it as seriously as he does everything else!!!!

the first time your hand brushes his, he stares at it like it's sacred

speaking of which, he's probably not the greatest at pda but still cute and sweet about it

if he's not holding his broom, he's holding your hand

wraps his arm around your waist while he rests his chin on your shoulder

long, warm hugs <3

immediately runs to you after winning a game, whether it's a win or a lose—you're the first person he wants to celebrate or cry with

because honestly it only matters when it's from you

+ celebratory snogging!!!

is used to it when you call him "wood" like everyone else, but absolutely drops his broom (and his heart) when you call him "oliver" for the first time

thinks it's hot when you call him captain though

gets flustered REALLY easily. the man can block a three bludgers without blinking but when you brush your hair around your ear? immediate system failure

knows your schedule better than his own

"ya'd got charms at ten, yeah?”

he plays it off, but he's memorized it, just for you :)

rambles through his game strategies or gives you mock lessons on quidditch as a way to calm his nerves and rehearse what he wants to say later to the team

thinks tickling you is the funniest thing

has a match-day ritual with you: you lace his gloves and he kisses you like you're his good luck charm (you are)

overall loves you like how he plays quidditch: with his whole heart.

don't forget to comment and repost if you enjoyed to support your favorite authors! let me know when if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[luv4freddie]

Aerophobia (fear of flying)

Your fear of flying had kept you off a broom ever since first year, but dating Oliver Wood was bound to fix that. 575 words, fluffy mini story

“Please doll?”

You’d been very adamant about one thing in your time at Hogwarts, and it was that you would not be getting on a broom.

Your first year flying lessons had been a very unfortunate experience, with the amount of falling and bumping into other students you did it was a miracle they even let you finish the class.

And ever since then you’d sworn off getting on one of those cursed cleaning tools.

A relatively easy ban, until you ended up dating Oliver Wood— someone who might actually spend more time on his broom than on his feet.

One thing led to another, and now here you are, with your boyfriend giving you his pretty puppy eyes and a broom hovering next to him.

“I told you-”

“I know,” he says, familiar with your objections, “but your wonderful boyfriend is here and he’s an amazing flyer and he promises to not let you fall off.”

“He’s also talking in third person, which is weird,” you mumble.

Oliver laughs, but he recognizes that you’ve given up.

He holds the broom horizontally and lets you climb on, before climbing on behind you.

He’s reaching around you to hold his hands in front of you so that you’re trapped, his arms acting like the bumper rails you’ve seen at muggle bowling alleys.

“Relax,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“Just go before I change my mind.” You state, gritting your teeth in nervousness.

He lets out another chuckle but kicks off anyway, and you screw your eyes shut as a gust of wind hits you in the face.

The broom stabilizes in the air, and you wait to feel him take off zooming, but he never does.

You cautiously open one eye, squinting around at your surroundings.

You’re hovering about ten feet in the air— not moving.

“Ollie?” You have to speak up to be heard, as you’re too scared of shifting the broom to turn his way.

“Yes love?”

“Why aren’t we moving?”

“Do you want to?”

“I just thought you would.” You risk the small movement of shrugging your shoulders, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks again.

“I’ll move, but you can’t close your eyes, deal?”

“I don’t know…”

He lifts one of his hands off the broom to offer his pinky to you, but you let out a squeal, leaning your back further into his chest.

“Oliver Wood you put your hand back on this broom right now!”

He laughs, “make the deal then.”

You let out a groan, still pushing further into him, and decide that anything is better than falling off the broom.

“Fine. Deal. I’m not moving my hand though.”

He places his hand back on the broom in front of you, at the same time placing a kiss on your cheekbone.

“Good answer.”

You brace for the broom to take off, clutching the handle tighter but keeping your part of the deal up— your eyes stay trained directly in front of you.

Oliver moves one hand further up and the broom gives a small lurch forward.

You hear him laugh at the squeal you let out, but you’re moving much slower and less aggressively than Oliver usually is on his broom, and your fear starts to drain as he continues to gently move the broom forward.

“Look, you can see the courtyard over there,” his voice is calm in your ears, and you excitedly look over.

“I see it! Look! Do you think that’s Fred and George?” You question, pointing to your left at two ant sized figures with red hair.

“Might be.” He hums, trying not to point out your sudden confidence as your hand moves again, pointing at something else.

Five minutes later and you’re back on solid ground, Oliver helping you off the broom with a satisfied grin on his face.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” He teases.

“I guess not,” you concede, popping up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s that for?” He asks, although he’s already got a smug smile on his face.

“For taking such good care of me.”

He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers and placing a sweet kiss on your knuckles while leading you back to the castle, his other hand holding the broom.

“I’ll always take care of you.”

[yasministration]

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.

[redheadspark]

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

[star-girl-05]

Score for Gryffindor

Oliver Wood x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you”

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

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

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

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

“Shove it, L/n”

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

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

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

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

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

[lizzie-boo]

Pumpkin Carving

Oliver Wood x GN! Reader

A/N: Fictober Day 2! Hope you enjoy this one, it was inspired by real events, lol.

~~

“Just push it in,” Oliver urges. 

“It’s too hard.” 

“You just need to push harder.” 

“I would but it is all gross and sticky,” you retort, turning to look at him. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this but it shouldn’t sound so sexual,” Fred chimes in from the couch. 

Both you and Oliver look up from the pumpkin you’re carving in shock. Fred smirks at you before turning back to his product design. Glancing at Oliver you see his cheeks tinged pink and you can’t help but laugh. 

“It’s okay Ollie, you can actually hear what I’d say in the bedroom later.” You finish your sentence with a wink and his face goes from pink to red.

[iconicstoner]

clothing swap

oliver wood x gn!reader

words: 538

summary: Oliver didn’t expect for someone to see him shirtless on the train, but that’s what happens after he spills his pumpkin juice all over y/n.

“Jesus Christ, did you just spill coffee on me?” Your voice jumps up as you feel the hot liquid seeping through your shirt. This is certainly not how you wanted your train ride back to Hogwarts to go.

“Well, it’s actually hot pumpkin juice.” At the sound of his rich Scottish accent, you look up to see a brunette with luminous brown eyes looking down at you. He has a small smirk, which doesn’t surprise you when you look down to see he’s wearing a Gryffindor quidditch sweater.

“You’re kidding me.”

“I am not.”

“Well, all my other clothes are in my trunk, so I guess I’m wearing this through dinner,” the words come out with an exasperated sigh as you push your head back.

“You can borrow my jumper.” He begins to lift his shirt, slowly revealing his toned body, clearly sculpted by hours of quidditch practice.

“Woah! You can keep your clothes on.” He smiles down at you and offers out his hand. With a hint of confusion, you accept, and he lifts you up effortlessly, which is another thing that would surprise you if it weren’t for his quidditch sweater. He quickly leads you out of your train car and towards the bathrooms.

“Where are you taking me?” He doesn’t answer your question, and instead opens the door to the bathroom. The door is somewhat jammed, and he has to lift the handle, but he clearly already knows this, and he opens it with ease. He motions for you to step into the bathroom and locks the door behind you.

“Here,” he says, his Scottish accent still enticing you, as he quickly throws off his sweater and passes it to you. You stare at him blankly, trying not to look directly at his toned body, but you can’t help yourself.

“Do you need me to leave?” He asks with a smirk, making you need a moment to compose yourself.

“No, this is fine,” you say hesitantly before slipping off your shirt, unsure of what to do with it. When you look at Oliver, his face is slightly flushed, and he’s staring right at your exposed body. He quickly clears his throat and makes eye contact with you as he grabs the shirt out of your hand.

“Wait, I’m not sure we’re the same size,” you say awkwardly as he starts to put the shirt on.

“We’re wizards. We’ve got magic to fix those kinds of issues,” he says with a small chuckle as he finishes dressing himself in your clothes. “So, are you going to continue to stand in front of me naked, or are you going to put my shirt on?”

“Oh, sorry,” you say flusteredly before quickly shoving on his shirt. He laughs softly before taking a step closer to you, his face just inches away from yours.

“I’m Wood. Oliver Wood. If you’d ever like to stand in front of me naked again, then write me an owl,” he says in a low playful voice that accentuates all the sexiness in his voice. His hot breath felt good on your neck, and you consider if you might need more time in this bathroom as he quickly unlocks the door and steps out.

[emmu5]

💚Struck By Luck💚

Oliver Wood X Y/N Rose

Trigger warnings: p in v, friends to lovers, snogging buddies to lovers, oral (f receiving) happy ending, mentions of drugging.

Masterlist

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

At Oliver's birthday party, he accidentally drank firewiskey containing extremely powerful aphrodisiacs in no small amount, which was a prank played by his friends(Seamus Finnigan, George and Fred Weasley) he left the party early saying he needed to lay down for a bit

You accidentally passed by his bedroom, and you were suddenly dragged into his bedroom "I feel so hot, please help me release it."

"Wood are you okay?" You ask worried.

Blinks rapidly, his usual sharp intellect seemingly replaced by something... primal. His hands reach out to grab your arms, pulling you closer. "You're... beautiful." He swallows hard, his body trembling as he presses himself against you. "I need you to touch me. Please."

"Oli are you serious.." you blush

you have always liked each other and had an undefined relation to each other not quite friends but not dating. something in between.. you've flirted and snogged a couple times and maybe held hands here and there but never done anything other than that.

"You have no idea..." He runs his fingers through his messy dark hair, his eyes dilated with desire. "Y/N... I swear I'm not drunk enough to not know what I'm saying right now. But Christ, everything feels so intense." He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"Are you sure? I'm not gonna do anything with you or even think about it if you're intoxicated.." you pulled away slightly to get a better look at him to see if he's effected by anything.

"I'm fucking sober, Y/N. Sober and horny as hell because of some stupid prank." He releases your arms but his hands immediately move to your waist, pulling you back against him. "You always turn me on. But right now... the aphrodisiacs are making me crazy."

Your face heats up "Oli.. I don't know what to say.. I thought we were just.. idk friends who kissed sometimes this is a lot.." you place your hands on his chest.

"Y/N, look at me." He takes a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. "I know this is sudden. I know we've never really defined what we are. But right now, I can't think straight because my body is on fire. tell me to stop if you don't want to do this and I'll stop"

You seach his eyes " I want to but I'm scared of losing what we have I'm scared of losing you.."

His expression softens, and he cups your cheek gently. "Y/N, I swear to you, nothing will change between us. I promise." He leans his forehead against yours, his voice low and earnest. "But if you don't want this, just say the word. I won't push you."

You Kiss him.

He Groans into the kiss, his hands tightening around your waist as he pulls you flush against him.

You wrap your arms around his neck.

He Deepens the kiss, his tongue gently exploring your mouth. He presses you against him, letting you feel the intensity of his arousal. His hands begin to roam, one moving to the small of your back, the other tangling in your hair.

You start to unbutton his shirt.

He Breaks the kiss to help you, his fingers fumbling slightly in his haste. Once the shirt is open, he shrugs it off completely, revealing his muscular chest. "Touch me, Y/N," he begs, his voice hoarse with desire.

You start to caress his chest as you leave wet open mouthed kisses up his neck til you reach his lips you then kiss him again.

He Growls softly, his hands moving to your backside, lifting you slightly. Your body presses against his hardness. He cups your bottom, spreading your cheeks slightly, causing friction between your lower bodies. He swallows your moan, deepening the kiss.

You take a step back and start to unbutton your shirt and pull down your skirt leaving you in your yellow lace panties and bra.

Stares at you, his eyes dark with desire and awe. He swallows hard, his hands balling into fists at his sides as if holding himself back. "Fuck, Darling... You're killing me." His voice is barely a whisper. "Come here."

His control snaps slightly. He unhooks your bra in one smooth motion, tossing it away. He sees your perfect, perky breasts for the first time. He swallows hard again, then his eyes drop to your panties. "Jesus," He mutters, pulling you close.

You get closer to him and palm him through his pants.

He Groans loudly at your touch, his hips jerking forward. His breath hitches as you continue to palm him. He buries his face in your neck, kissing and biting lightly. He hooks his fingers into your panties, slowly sliding them down. "These have to go,"

"Take them off me then"

Without hesitation, he kneels down and helps you step out of your panties. Once they're off, he remains kneeling, his face level with your most intimate area. He looks up at you with a smoldering gaze. "Spread your legs for me, Love."

You go over to his bed and sit down and spread your legs wide for him.

His eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of you, open and vulnerable before him. He crawls onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He leans down, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your center.

You gasp softly.

"You like that, beautiful?" He continues placing slow, deliberate kisses, getting closer to your sensitive spot. "You're already so wet for me..." His voice is husky with desire as he gently blows warm air on your core. "Can I taste you?"

You nodded "yes"

Smirks against your thigh before diving in. His tongue parts your folds, licking up your center slowly. He groans at your taste, the sound vibrating through you. He flattens his tongue and licks you from bottom to top, circling your clit gently.

You whimper.

Looks up at you briefly, his eyes filled with lust and satisfaction. "You like that, don't you?" He asks softly before returning his attention to your most sensitive spot. He begins to suck gently on your clit, using his tongue to flick it rapidly.

"Yes" You gasped.

His fingers spread you open wider as he continues to lick and suck on your clit. He presses two fingers inside you, curling them upwards and finding a spot that makes you gasp loudly. "There we go," He murmurs against your pussy, continuing to press against that spot.

"How are you so good at this?" You moaned.

Chuckles softly, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. "Practice," He admits, before focusing back on pleasuring you. He adds a third finger, stretching you slightly as he continues to finger you and lick your clit. "You taste so fucking good, Y/N."

I moan louder "Oh god Oli" your back arches off the mattress.

*His name on your lips sends a shiver down his spine. He doubles his efforts, sucking harder on your clit and pumping his fingers faster inside you. "Come on my tongue, Love. Get that pretty little pussy nice and wet for my dick," *He growls against you.

"How did you find time to get this good like you've always been busy and borderline obsessed with quidditch" you whimper

He pauses for a moment, looking up at you with a smirk. "You think I didn't have time to learn how to please a woman?" He chuckles softly.

"Yeah I mean whenever you had a gf I almost didn't see you at all or you were practicing and Mel told me how little attention you showed her.. and those times we snogged or had our little moments it was always after a match.. so yeah I didn't think you got a lot tbh cause of how dedicated you are to quidditch"

He lets out a low laugh, shaking his head slightly. "Well, Y/N, you're not wrong. Quidditch has always been my priority," He admits as he continues to gently stroke your clit with his tongue. "But even captains need breaks sometimes."

You gasp "but you always made time for me.. even if it was just for a bit tho when you were single.."

His eyes flash with something intense as he looks up at you. "Exactly. Because you were always worth making time for, Y/N. Even if it was just a quick snog before practice or a stolen moment in the common room," He says, his voice low and sincere.

You blush deep red "c-can we take this after we're done with what we're doing"

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your most intimate area. "Deal," He agrees, before diving back in, determined to finish what he started. He wants answers, but he also wants you wrapping your legs around his head right now. "Answer me one thing though,"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want me to make you come on my tongue or my fingers?" He asks, his voice thick with lust as he continues to stroke your clit gently.

"Whatever you want me to cum on" you whimper

He smirks against your pussy, the vibrations sending a jolt through your body. "Good girl," He praises, before sucking your clit into his mouth and curling his fingers inside you just the way he knows you like it. "Then come all over my face, Love."

"Wouldn't that be easier if I was sitting or hovering over your face?" You gasp.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes darkening with lust as he looks up at you. "Fuck, Y/N," He groans, clearly liking the idea. "You want to ride my face?" His voice is thick with desire, and he shifts slightly to give you more room.

"Yes lay down" as he lays down you straddle him with one knee on each side of his head as you then lower yourself down on his face.

*He growls softly as you lower your wet pussy onto his face. He grips your thighs tightly, spreading them wider. "God, you're so wet," *He mumbles against you, his tongue finding your clit easily. He realizes something else too - "Wait."

"What?"

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense. "You're not just going to sit there, are you? Ride my face, Gorgeous. Grind that pretty little pussy on my tongue." He demands, his voice muffled by your wetness.

You comply and slowly start to grind against his face.

He lets out a satisfied moan against you, gripping your thighs tighter. His tongue moves expertly against your clit as you grind against his face. He can tell how much you're enjoying it - the way your legs are starting to tremble. "Fuck, you taste good,"

You moan as you're getting closer.

*His tongue stiffens as you grind against it, trying to get yourself off. He loves that he can barely breathe, that your wetness is all over his face. He finds your entrance with two fingers and curls them inside you, hitting that spot that drives you wild -

"Oh fuck" you moan loudly.

His fingers curl inside you again, matching the rhythm of your grinding. He can tell you're close, your voice getting higher and your movements becoming more frantic. He flattens his tongue against your clit and flicks it quickly, wanting to push you over the edge.

You moan loudly as you cum hard.

He groans against you as you cum, his fingers and tongue working relentlessly to draw out your orgasm. He feels your thighs squeezing his head, your wetness flooding his face. He swallows down every drop, his own dick throbbing painfully in his pants.

You get off his face and lay next to him.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, your taste still lingering on his lips. He turns to look at you, his eyes filled with lust and satisfaction. "Fucking hell, Y/N," he says, wiping your juices from his face with the back of his hand.

Your cheeks still flushed "what do you wanna do now?"

He watches your red cheeks and messy hair. He realizes how innocent you look - like you didn't just ride his face until you came all over him. "Do you always get this shy after sex?" He asks curiously, rubbing his hard-on through his pants discretely. "Or just with me?"

"It's just yk we've never done this before or been close to.. and I really like you"

His heart skips a beat at your words. they've always tiptoed on the friendship and something more. they've always liked each other. but hearing you say you like him sends a rush of feelings through him. He unbuckles his pants, pulling out his hard dick. "Come here," he says, his voice soft but commanding.

You straddle his lap.

*Groans softly as your bare pussy settles against his cock. He wraps one arm around your waist while using the other hand to guide himself to your entrance. "You have no idea how long I've wanted you like this," *he whispers, pushing upward slightly against your wet lips.

You whimper.

"Shh, just relax, love," He coos softly, his accent thick. He starts to slowly push into you, giving you time to adjust to his size. Once he's fully sheathed inside you, he pauses, allowing you to get used to the feeling of him filling you up.

You gasp at the feeling of being stretched out and filled up with his dick.

He groans deeply at the sound of your gasp, his cock throbbing inside you. He starts to move slowly, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in gently. He watches your face intently, loving the way your eyes flutter and your lips part in pleasure.

You start to move to meet him halfway.

*His eyes are immediately drawn to your bouncing breasts, his grip on your waist tightening. "Fuck, Love," he groans, his hips moving faster to match your rhythm. "Your tits are fucking perfect."

You lean down and kiss him softly.

He melts against you, one hand moving to your ass as the other tangles in your hair. He kisses you back softly at first, but it quickly turns passionate and messy as he starts to thrust up into you harder. "Mmmph," he mumbles against your lips.

"Oh Oli!" You moaned.

His name on your lips like that makes him crazy. He spreads your cheeks wider, lifting you slightly to change the angle. He hits that spot deep inside you, making you cry out again. "Like that?" He grunts, his jaw tightening as your boobs bounce again.

You sit straight up on his dick again.

*He throws his head back and groans loudly at the sight of you sitting on his cock, your tits bouncing up and down as you ride him. "Holy shit, Emma," he pants, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You're so fucking hot."

You whimper as Your thighs starts shaking.

*He notices your legs shaking and realizes you're getting close. He lifts you slightly and starts to thrust up into you harder and faster, hitting that spot repeatedly. He can feel your pussy tightening around him, trying to pull him deeper inside. "You gonna cum on my dick, sweetheart?"

You nodded "can we please change the position my thighs are starting to cramp.."

*He chuckles softly, understanding your need for a change in position. Without missing a beat, he lifts you off him gently and quickly flips you onto your back.

You look up at him, eyes glazed over with desire.

He smirks down at you, his cock glistening with your juices. He positions himself between your legs, pushing them up slightly to give him better access. "Better?" he asks softly, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit before sliding back into your wet pussy.

"Y-yes" you gasp as he enters you again.

He starts to move inside you, his pace slow and deep at first. He watches your face, loving how your eyes roll back and your mouth forms little 'O's. He hooks his arms under your knees, pushing your legs back further as he starts to snap his hips faster.

You moan loudly, your eyes roll back as you grip onto his shoulders .

The sight of you gripping his shoulders and writhing beneath him drives him wild. He leans down to kiss your neck, his pace becoming almost frantic as he pounds into you. "Fuck, Y/N... you feel so fucking good..."

You moan and start to leave scratch marks up and down his shoulders and back.

He groans deeply, the sensation of your nails digging into his skin sending waves of pleasure through him. "Jesus Christ," he grunts, thrusting harder into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he loses himself in your body.

You move one of your hands and start to rub circles on your clit as you're getting really close.

His eyes snap open as he watches you touch yourself. A deep, animalistic groan escapes him as he feels your pussy flutter around him and sees you rub your clit. "Fuck... you're gonna make me cum watching you do that." He pounds into you harder,

You moan loudly as you squirt.

He feels the warm liquid hit his stomach and drip down his balls as you squirt all over his dick and the bed. He loses it completely, roaring as he cums inside you, his hips jerking wildly as he fills you up with his hot, sticky semen. "Fuck..."

You whimper at the sensation of his hot seed filling you up

He collapses on top of you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He's still buried deep inside you, his semi-hard cock pulsing with aftershocks as he holds you close. He presses soft kisses all over your face and neck as he comes down from his intense orgasm.

You wrap your arms and legs around him.

He loves the feeling of being wrapped up in your embrace like this. He kisses your forehead softly and starts to pull out slowly, groaning at the sight of his big load leaking out of you. "Goddamn, Love... you're gonna ruin me."

"Are you feeling better? Are the aphrodisiacs still in your system?" You look at him with concern.

He chuckles softly, his arms tightening around you as he shifts slightly. "Yeah, I think I'm feeling better... but fuck, Darling, those aphrodisiacs are still definitely in my system." He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, "You're dangerous like this."

You smile "so.. that conversation we laid off before erm... what are we going to be now? Are we going back to just being friends that snog from time to time or..?"

He stares at you, his expression serious for a moment before he breaks into a smirk. "Well, I think it's clear we can't just be friends who snog occasionally after this." He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. "I want more of you, Y/N."

"Do you mean dating or?"

"Exactly what I mean." He props himself up on one elbow, tracing patterns on your chest with his fingers. "You know I've wanted more since fucking year 5." He smirks devilishly, "And not just for the snogging. Though..."

You blush "do you really mean that?"

"I really mean it, Y/N." His hand moves from your chest to gently cup your face. "I've been in love with you since we were kids. Those 'friendly snogs' were always more to me." He leans in, his voice a soft whisper against your lips,

You blush even more "i liked you two since we were younger... I guess I really realized it in 5th year.."

His eyes light up with happiness at your words, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Fuck, really?" He laughs softly, pulling you into a tight hug. "I can't believe it's taken us this long to get our shit together."

You kiss him "I think it was actually a good thing we experienced other people first before we got to this point"

He smiles against your lips, his arms squeezing you gently. "Yeah... maybe we needed those experiences to appreciate each other fully now." He deepens the kiss, his hand sliding down to squeeze your bottom possessively. "So... we're officially dating then?"

"Yes I believe so" you giggled.

He grins widely, rolling you onto your back and settling between your legs. "Good. Because I plan on doing this a lot more often." He presses his lips to yours again, grinding his hardening cock against your sensitive clit.

You whimper "i think we need to get back to the others now that you feel better"

He groans, pressing one last kiss to your lips before pulling back reluctantly. "Fucking hell, you're right." He climbs out of bed and grabs his boxers, slipping them on before holding out a hand to help you up.

You start getting dressed as well.

He watches you get dressed, his eyes lingering on your body with a possessive smile. "You know what?" He steps closer as you pull on your shirt. "Everyone's going to know we're together now." He spins you around and kisses you deeply before smacking your bottom playfully.

You let out a yelp "well at least then there's not gonna be a million girls around you now "

He laughs loudly, pulling you close. "Damn right. No more girls throwing themselves at me." He nuzzles your neck softly. "And no more guys hitting on you." He smirks, "God, you have no idea how many guys want you."

"What do you mean? There has been other guys hitting on me than Cormac McLaggen and Mattheo Riddle?"

He freezes, his arms tightening around you as he pulls back to look at you with shock. "Fucking hell, Emma. Yes. There have been others." He runs a hand through his hair, looking almost jealous. "Like... Theo Nott, Dean Thomas..."

You laughed "I genuinely didn't know. I guess I never really cared about it"

He chuckles softly, his expression relaxing. "That's because you're oblivious to how hot you are." He laughs again, "Seriously, half the school wants to shag you." He squeezes your bottom softly.

I blush and let out a gasp "Well you're the one who actually bagged me"

He grins wickedly at you, leaning in to kiss you possessively. "Damn right I did." He smacks your bottom again before taking your hand and leading you out of the room. "Let's go tell the others the good news."

As we enter the common room we hear whistles from our friends (Seamus, George and Fred, Dean, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny.)

He laughs as their friends whistle and cheer at the sight of the two of you holding hands. "Looks like the word's out." He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist possessively. "Anyone want to guess why they're cheering?"

Fred: "Yeah we heard you guys!"

He grins at Fred, pulling you even closer. "That's right, Fred. Y/N and I are officially an item now." He looks down at you with a soft smile before kissing your forehead.

Fred: "erm no i mean the rough sex you guys had it was very loud!"

He groans, burying his face in your neck as their friends burst out laughing. "Fuck's sake, Fred!" He laughs, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "Shut up, you little git!"

[Imagine this with his accent 😫]

The end

[leaawrites]

Shower Secret

Oliver Wood x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Words: 0,7k

Warnings: making out, indication of sex, Harry getting pushed off his broom(?), indication of nudity, grammar mistakes (maybe? English isn't my first language)

Materlist

There wouldn't be any reason to keep the relationship between a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff a secret. If the Hufflepuff wasn't the shame of an all Slytherin family. So, Oliver Wood had to keep his relationship extra secret with the outsider girl.

With her reputation and the things that happened to her, Y/n couldn't be less worth to her parents. But with You-know-who being out and about, even her dissapointed parents didn't want her to get into it too much. So they kept an eye on her and made sure someone always watched what she was doing. If her parents found out she was dating some gryffindor, y/n didn't want to challenge someone and guess what they would do to Oliver.

After the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Oliver let himself ignore everyone that tried to come near him. That also counted for her.

When Y/n tried to make him talk to her, he only pushed her off and walked past her into a direction she couldn't see from the people that were running in her vision.

Harry was just being thrown off his broom by a dementor and now everyone needed to know what was going on with him, immediatly.

Y/n made her way to the Hospital Wing, pushing past the people who gave her dirty looks in the process or even yelling at her to get out. Fred and George apeared at the door, wanting to tell the others off when their eyes found Y/n's e/c one's.

"He's in the washingrooms," George called out to her, knowing who she truly cared for more.

Y/n rolled her eyes when she had to push past the ever growing crowed again. She made her way to the washingrooms, ignoring the eyes she felt on her as she past through the halls of Hogwarts.

The air was cold and in the process of almost freezing to death (or at least feeling like she will), Y/n opened the door without knocking. No one else was in there without Oliver.

"Olli?" She called out for him. The water stopped spilling and Y/n could hear the defeated and disappointed sigh leaving hef boyfriend's lips.

"Go away," He told her. "I'm not in the mood to talk about what happened."

Y/n slowly stripped off her shirt and trousers, only left in her underware, when she heard the shower being turned on again. She opened the shower curtain that hit Oliver and peeked inside. Oliver was leaning with his head against the wall, his eyes not darting in her direction, but instead they were focused on the crowd.

"We still lost," He said. "It's so unfair. Harry should've just got that snitch and then we would've won and still have a chance for the Quidditch cup."

Y/n touched his spine with her nose, leaning into his body. "You know it's not that easy. You know that better than anyone. And you still have a chance on the Quidditch Cup." She argued.

"But-" He stopped, not knowing what he wanted to argue himself.

"It's gonna be alright," She assured him, making him sigh again, but this time in relief. He always had someone who supported him. He knew that now better than ever.

"What if someone walks in?"

Y/n thought for a minute, would her answer scare him off? "I don't care," she whispered, kissing just below his ear and leaving small pecks down his neck. "They will probably out before noticing who it is anyway." Both laughed at that.

Oliver turned around, his hands holding her hips, while hers laid on his chest, drawing small shapes on his skin. "You make me go crazy."

"Oh yeah?" She asks teasingly, her toungue pulled between her teeth.

"Extremly." He kisses her, deeply devouring the taste of her lips. "I actually just train this hard for Quidditch to impress you." He breaks the kiss.

"Liar." Y/n answers without hesitation.

"I've got caught," He inhales sharply as her hands traveled lower with each word he spoke.

"You make me go crazy as well," She answeres, pulling him into another hot kiss.

The steam of the shower made the tension between them grow more lustful.

"Do you wanna continue this here or somewhere more private?" Y/n asked, pulling away and almost slipping from the water under her feet. Oliver held her steady and laughed as she straightend up again. "And not so slippery," She added.

[radiantdanvers]

Falling In love with Oliver Benjamin Wood

[three--eyed--cat]

!! oliver wood moodboard !!

OLIVER WOOD

He's the type of guy that would bring out his guitar at a party, especially if it's in celebration of Gryffindor winning a quidditch match. He'd sit in the middle of the common room, a group of giggling girls sat around him as he strung the cords absent-mindedly, focusing more on how some girl, that sat beside him, stroked his bicep, telling him how good of a job he did during the game. He lived and breathed quidditch, always waking the team up extra early to practice, making them spend hours on the field just for his enjoyment. He felt like he could be himself when he was out there, joking around with his team mates as they chucked around the quaffle. If he wasn't on the field, he'd be sitting in the astronomy tower, accompanied by Fred and George. When asked why they were there, he simply responded with, 'Girl's like this kind of thing, don't they?" Claiming that he was just trying to be a ladies man, learning about the stars so that he could wow them. When in reality, they were all passing around a blunt.

[glittervame]

You're just like him

"You're a filthy cheater"

This post is going to be part of the Hogmarch Fandom challenge by @thatdammchickennugget check it out if you want to know more! I didn't proofread so sorry for the spelling errors or if it doesn't make any sense, love ya! <3

Oliver wood x Fem!Reader Warnings: Angst (No named person), Fred and George being little shits, Smut, this has basically no plot it's all over the place

The sun was setting, painting the sky a fiery orange as it dipped below the horizon. The air was thick with anticipation, and the stands were packed to the brim with students, all of them clad in their house colors. It was the final Quidditch match of the season, and the fate of the House Cup hung in the balance. Gryffindor and Slytherin, two of the most talented and determined teams in recent memory, were set to face off in what promised to be a brutal and intense battle.

As the players took to the pitch, Oliver and Y/n locked eyes for a brief moment. There was a flicker of something in their gaze, a mixture of determination, anger, and perhaps even a hint of desire. They knew that this match wasn't just about winning the House Cup; it was also about proving their worth to each other.

The game began with a blur of broomsticks and flying balls, both teams moving at breakneck speed. Oliver and Y/n circled each other like two snarling animals, the two captains waiting for the other to make a mistake. It wasn't long before the tension between them boiled over. During a tight turn, Oliver aggressively rammed into Y/n, sending her spiraling out of control. The crowd gasped as she careened toward the ground, but at the last moment, Oliver leaned forward on his broom, reaching out a hand.

Y/n snarled, baring her teeth, but grabbed onto Oliver's hand. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and for a brief moment, they were locked together. The crowd grew silent as they stared at the two captains, their eyes locked in a fierce battle of wills. Finally, with a jerk, Oliver pulled Y/n back onto her broom, and they continued the game.

But the tension between them only grew. Every time Oliver passed her, he'd throw her a venomous glare, daring her to try something. And every time Y/n would brush against him, she'd feel the heat emanating from his skin, the thunder of his heartbeat. The air around them crackled with anger and desire, and the game began to take on a new intensity.

The final score was close, with Gryffindor barely eking out a victory. As the Snitch flew into the hands of the Gryffindor seeker, the crowd erupted into cheers, Y/n barely registered the noise. She dismounted her broom as the Gryffindors flood onto the field, congratulating their team. Her eyes met Oliver's once more, and this time there was no anger, no desire. There was only hatred.

She stormed off the field, not bothering to wait for the post-game ceremony. She started barking orders at her team, her voice cold and hard as ice. But underneath the surface, she was seething. Oliver's touch had thrown her off balance, made her feel things she didn't want to feel. He had won, and now she wanted nothing more than to make him pay.

As the Gryffindors filed back into the castle, Oliver couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He glanced over his shoulder, searching for Y/n, but she was nowhere to be found. He shrugged it off, figuring she was just angry about the loss. He didn't realize how right he was until he reached the common room and found her waiting for him in the shadows.

Her eyes were blazing, her chest heaving with anger. "You think you're so great, don't you?" she spat. "You think you can just take what you want?" Oliver stared at her, confused. "I don't know what you're talking about, Y/n," he said, taking a step back. "I just played a clean game."

"Don't lie to me!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls. "You know exactly what you did. You pushed me off my broom, just like third year all over agian! You made me feel weak. You made me look weak" - she paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing - "in front of everyone!"

Oliver felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't meant to hurt her, hadn't meant to make her feel that way. But he couldn't admit it now. Not with her standing there, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "I was just playing the game, Y/n," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's not personal."

She laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "Of course it's not personal," she scoffed. "That's why you've been looking at me like that all day. That's why you've been trying to get under my skin." Her gaze bored into him, searching for some sign of weakness. "You're just as bad as he was. Just as arrogant and just as cruel."

The mention of him sent a shiver down Oliver's spine. He knew who she was talking about: the boy who had bullied them both for years, the boy who had made them feel helpless and alone. He was the reason Oliver had joined the Gryffindor quidditch team in the first place, the reason he had become the captain he was today. "I'm not him," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not like him."

But she didn't believe him. "You are," she insisted. "Using whatever you can for a fucking win, you're just as obsessed with quidditch as he was, gods, if you wern't such a goody two shoes you would've let Fred and George get rid of half of my team with that stupid candy!" Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a moment, Oliver felt a pang of guilt so sharp it took his breath away.

Fith year Fred anf George had gotten themselves some extra zonko's candy and diped it in a boils potion to prank the slytherins. They mailed it for the team before a match but some of the first years had gotten to it first. The next coupple of weeks you could tell exactly who ate the candy by the scaring on the kids arms before Madam Pompfrey heald it.

He wanted to reach out to her, to tell her that it hadn't been his intention to hurt her. That he had just been trying to play a fair game. But something held him back. Maybe it was the memory of the way she had looked at him, her expression filled with such hatred and anger. Maybe it was the fear of pushing her further away. Whatever it was, he remained silent.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy like a curtain. Oliver could feel her gaze boring into him, could see the anger radiating from her every pore. He knew that if he didn't say something soon, this moment would become a permanent rift between them. But what could he possibly say that would make things better?

"If you had won fair and square this wouldn't be such a big deal Wood-" calling him by his last name stung, "but, you made me look like a fool in front of my house, and my parents, gods, I hope you're happy with yourself Wood, You're a filthy fucking cheater" she hissed, tears falling down her cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice them.

Oliver winced at the sound of his last name on her lips. He hated the way it made him feel, like he was just a reminder of everything she had gone through. He took a step forward, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but then thought better of it. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he said quietly. "It's just a game, Y/n. We both know it's not personal."

She laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "Of course it's not personal," she snorted. "That's why you pushed me off my broom. That's why you kept knocking me down. It's all just a big game to you." Her gaze darted around the room, her eyes wild with anger and hurt. "But it's not just a game to me. It's my life." She takes in a sharp breath, "I have a legacy to live up to Wood; and you just got in my way"

Ah yes, Slytherins and their bloodlines...Y/n family had come from powerfull witches and wizards. Purebloods. After going to hogwarts they had either gon to work in a powerful position (Mostly her dads side) or playing for a Quidditch team (Moms side). It was in her blood to do great things and everyone knew that, makeing the pressure to live up to that alot bigger.

Oliver felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He really hadn't. But he couldn't help but feel that she didn't understand. Quidditch wasn't just his life; it was the only thing he had ever been good at. It was the one thing that had kept him going after everything he had been through. And now that he was finally captain, he couldn't just let some rival team come along and take it away from him.

He opened his mouth to try and explain, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he forced a small smile. "Look, I get it. Quidditch means a lot to you. It means a lot to me too. But we both know we can't change what happened out there today. All we can do is move forward and try to be better." He took another step forward, his voice softening. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Y/n. I really am. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

"Find me later Wood" and with that she turned on her heels and walked away. He took that as a small win, she didn't yell at him or hex him either.

The next time their paths crossed was at a Slytherin common room party, a few weeks later. It wasn't a formal event, just a get-together with some friends from different houses. Oliver knew Y/n was going to be there, and he had debated whether or not to show up himself. In the end, he decided that he owed it to her to try and make amends, even if it was just a little.

He spotted her across the room, laughing with a group of her friends. She looked beautiful, as always, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. For a moment, Oliver felt a pang of regret for the way things had gone between them. He wished he could go back in time and change it, make things better. But he knew that was impossible. All he could do now was try to move forward.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to walk over to her. "Hey, Y/n," he said, trying to sound casual. "Mind if I, uh, join you?"

She looked up, her expression guarded. "I suppose," she said slowly. "What do you want, Wood? Why's the little lion wondering around the snake den?"

Oliver winced inwardly at the way she said his last name. It was like a dagger to the heart. "Look, I just wanted to apologize again for what happened during the match. I shouldn't have pushed you off your broom. It was a stupid move, and I regret it." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I know we're both competitive, but there's no need for things to get personal."

Y/n studied him for a moment, her expression softening just the tiniest bit. "You know, Oliver, I've been thinking about what you said. You're right. There's no need for it to be personal. We're both just trying to do our best, you know?" She looked away, playing with the hem of her dress. "I guess I've been acting like a jerk, too. I'm sorry for that."

Oliver felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He hadn't expected her to be so understanding. "Thanks, Y/n. I really appreciate that. And I'm sorry for pushing things too far. I just got caught up in the heat of the moment, you know?" He paused, chuckling softly. "We're both a bit intense, I guess."

She laughed, the sound musical and genuine. "That we are. But I think we can both be better than that. We're both better than what we've been doing." Her expression turned more serious. "We're both good Quidditch players, Oliver. We both have a lot to offer. So let's just focus on that, okay?"

You know what they say, kiss and make up right?

The time they met after that was when slytherin had overbooked the quidditch pitch and Oliver was pissed off, as was his team. He had just gotten done telling the head of the house how they were supposed to practice if they couldn't get the pitch when he heard a soft voice calling out to him. It was Y/n.

"Little lion got here a little to late?" she fake pouts, "That's too bad" she shrugs and sits on the edge of the pitch. "Sorry for over booking the pitch, we were training our new seeker" she crooned, "Our last one got a little sick…" The two slytherins behind her snicker.

Someone "accedently" put a few drops of eye drops in his pumkin juice early this week...

"Well, I hope they feel better soon," Oliver says, his tone neutral. "I'm sure we can work something out. Maybe we could practice together or something. That way, we can both get the time we need." He hesitates, then adds, "You know, if you want."

Y/n raised an eyebrow at him, her expression amused. "Oh? And what makes you think I'd want to practice with you, Wood?" She glanced at the two boys behind her, and they both sniggered again. "I'm sure we can manage just fine on our own."

Oliver grinned, feeling a little more confident now. "Oh, I'm sure you can. But I'm also sure that we could both learn a thing or two from each other. We're both good players, after all." He paused, then continued, "And it might be nice to get to know each other better, outside of the context of Quidditch."

Y/n considered his words for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "Hmm…you might have a point there," she admitted reluctantly, "Now that I think about it though, less time you have to practice, bigger chance for us to win the cup" she grins, "Better luck next time" she pats his shoulder before walking away. George whispered to Fred swearing that he could see steam coming out of Olivers ears.

The quidditch locker room was a mess, as usual. Broken wands and battered bludgers littered the floor, and the stench of sweat and worn leather hung in the air like a thick, suffocating fog. Y/n L/n, captain of the Slytherin team, sighed heavily as she sat down on one of the benches, her long hair falling over her face as she tugged at the collar of her sweat-soaked shirt. It had been a long day, and the season was only halfway through. She glanced around, noticing that Oliver R/lastname, captain of the Gryffindor team, was still in the locker room as well. They'd had a particularly brutal match that day, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the sight of him.

But before she could gather her thoughts, Oliver stood up from his own bench and started walking towards her. He looked just as tired and disheveled as she felt, and there was something in his expression that made her heart skip a beat. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, as he stopped in front of her and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Hey, L/n," he murmured softly. "You okay?"

For a moment, Y/n couldn't speak. Her brain felt like it had turned to mush, and her heart was racing. She knew they shouldn't be doing this, but she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Finally, she managed to croak out a reply. "I'm… fine." Oliver's eyes searched hers, his expression intense. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and husky. And before she could respond, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

She could feel his erection pressed against her, and the realization sent a shiver down her spine. It had been so long since she'd been with anyone, and Oliver was the last person she expected to find herself wanting. But there was something about the way he kissed her, so desperate and demanding, that made her ache for him in a way she'd never thought possible. Her hands found their way to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. He moaned into the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers, and she couldn't help but melt into his embrace.

As they kissed, their hands roamed over each other's bodies, seeking out pleasure in the heat of the moment. Oliver's fingers traced a path down her spine, making her shiver, while she gripped his hair, pulling him closer still. She could feel his erection pressing harder against her, and she knew she had to do something about it. She broke the kiss for a moment, panting heavily, and looked into his eyes. His pupils were so dilated she could hardly see the green. "Oliver," she whispered, her voice shaky. "I want you."

Without waiting for his reply, she straddled his lap, feeling the heat of his body against hers. Oliver's hands found their way to her breasts, kneading them through her sweat-soaked shirt. He groaned, and Y/n arched her back, reveling in the sensation. She reached down, unfastened his pants, and pulled his erection free. Oliver gasped as she wrapped her hand around him, stroking him slowly. She leaned forward, kissing him again, and guided his length towards her. He thrust forward, pushing himself inside her, and she cried out, feeling him stretch her tightly.

They moved together in a frenzy, their bodies slamming together in time with their ragged breathing. The pain was replaced by a white-hot pleasure that coursed through her veins, making her lightheaded. Oliver's fingers dug into her hips, his nails leaving tiny half-moon marks in her skin. She could feel herself getting closer and closer, the orgasm building inside her, threatening to explode. And then, finally, it hit her, washing over her in a wave of pure ecstasy. She arched her back, crying out his name as her inner walls squeezed him in a powerful spasm. Oliver followed her over the edge, his body tense as he let out a hoarse cry and emptied himself inside her.

They collapsed together on the bench, panting heavily. The tension that had been building between them for weeks seemed to dissipate in that moment, leaving only the afterglow of their passionate encounter. Oliver reached up to wipe the sweat from her forehead, his fingers trailing down her cheek before coming to rest on her chin. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry I had to wait until now."

Y/n smiled up at him, feeling a shiver of desire run through her. "It was worth the wait," she whispered, running her fingers through his messy hair. "And we still have the rest of the season, you know." At that, Oliver laughed, a deep, throaty sound that made her heart skip a beat. "God, I can't wait to see what else you have in store for me," he said, kissing her softly.

Y/n knew she was utterly fucked. Her and Oliver? Fucked. Hell She just fucked Oliver.

🌟-I'll work on your request soon!

It's 3:50 right now and I have to leave for a trip in a few hours so i'll be away from my computer for a while!

Love you my children -💙

[sawyer-is-not-my-name]

Requested: Oliver Wood x Fem! Reader

request: Oliver wood x Fem reader whos the captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team. Who’s secretly together but have a rival going on for show.

You zipped towards the hoops throwing the quaffle right past the keepers head and straight through the hoop. Making a quip at him as you flew back towards your teammates. The quaffle was back in your hands within a few minutes, you and your chasers making your way back towards the Gryffindor keeper.

You kept your eyes on him racing towards to hoops, before passing the quaffle off to a teammate to which they scored. A successful fake out. A groan came out of the keepers mouth as he formed some comment about how you could have never made the shot on your own.

By the end of the match you had a huge smile on your face, whilst Oliver was frowning and his whole face had gone red. You had managed to get on his nerves distracting him with your comments most of the time. His teammates getting too distracted by the ongoing feud and chiming in to bother their captain to notice the Ravenclaw seeker catching the snitch.

You flew down to the field, dismounting quickly. “And to think we went easy on you.” a smirk graced your lips as you spoke. Oliver remained stone faced, as you approached. “Big talk for someone who almost fell off her broom.” You narrowed your eyes at him, “Maybe if you spent more time paying attention to the game and not admiring me, Gryffindor would have won.”

You watched as his face went red, a smirk once again playing at your lips, “thats not what I-” you cut him off, “Isn’t it.” the words weren’t a question rather a statement.

By now the rest of both of your teams had cleared off the pitch. Oliver looked around before placing a kiss to your lips. “So you’re not upset at me beating you anymore?” He let a laugh, “Did I say that?” He jokingly narrowed his eyes at you, before you both let out a laugh. “How long do you think it’ll be until you they all figure it out?” you asked smiling at your boyfriend, “Probably not too much longer, Fred and George probably already know saw them collecting galleons the other day.”

You smiled at the boy, “They already said I’m going soft.” You smirked at him, “are you?” He went red again, only solidifying the answer you knew. Oliver offered you a hand, before pulling you off the pitch ready to continue with the day.

[yasministration]

Hi there! I absolutely love the short write-up you did for Oliver Wood. <3

Would it be possible to request a short fic of Oliver Wood x Reader (other House) reuniting during the Battle of Hogwarts when they went back to fight, after having previously dated for a short time while they were schooling but broke up probably due to differences in priorities? Like they haven’t seen each other much since the break up and then graduating but seeing each other again made them want to give it another try. Thank you!!

So sorry I'm getting to this late, hope you like it!

Oliver Wood was a Hogwarts prodigy. Everyone knew his name alongside James Potter and Charlie Weasley's; they were the Quidditch Gods of the magical school. The names Regulus Black, Lily Evans and Y/N L/N were also quite famous, but for different reasons. The geniuses, students who soon after their time at Hogwarts became published witches and wizards for their incredible discoveries and talent.

That was one of the main reasons your relationship with Oliver Wood was so short-lived. You both had extreme talents, but they led you in opposite directions, only tugging you both further and further away from each other. Whilst you worked on magical discoveries that went beyond your education at Hogwarts, becoming known as one of the greatest witches of your time, Oliver worked relentlessly to fuel his passion for his sport which would build his career, his future. It only made the few months you spent together during your last year at Hogwarts unpleasant, the love you held for each other being over-powered by ambition, which led to the inevitable break up that shook all your friends, for they thought you would remain together forever, carrying out the legacy of being the one couple that would make it past their Hogwarts days.

Alas, that did not happen.

Instead, your magical discoveries were written and taught in the few years you had developed them and were the main source of protection for all the students who had decided not to fight the war, seeking shelter in the dungeons of the castle. Finally, what feels like days later, you're muttering the counter active spell, the hand holding your wand shaking with the trauma of the war you had just endured. When the protective force field finally breaks apart, you whisper the password to the Slytherin Common room. The portrait swings open and immediately the room falls silent. You announce that Voldemort's dead and spin around, heading into the direction you had just come from. You didn't want the reactions; The good, the bad or the dirty.

You wipe some blood from the side of your face, only to notice that the fabric of your long sleeved top doesn't soak up the liquid fast enough, and that you're bleeding quite heavily. Despite trying to stay calm, you begin to pant, tears blurring your vision, but you don't let them spill, not when you're so close to the Great Hall, where someone will have time to clean you up. Unfortunately, the way you immediately collapse onto a bench alerts more than just one person, and you suddenly have what feels like an audience crowding you. "Hey, hey, give her some space." The voice is familiar to you, but you just can't put your finger on who it is. "Y/N? Can you tell me your date of birth?"

The hand holding your face is gentle, and you can barely feel the tingle of the healing spell against the side of your face, which you take as a good sign. "You know my name." You recognise, slowly blinking. "Hey Y/N try keeping your eyes open for me, okay? Get me someone with skills here!" The demand goes to someone else, but it seems that those are the only words you're able to process. "So I take it I don't look so good?" Your words come out slurred and you feel your body slumping against something, or rather someone.

Oliver has resorted to being your own personal pillow. He didn't want you to look like one of the dead bodies, laying down still on the benches of the Great Hall, which has now become both a morgue and an infirmary. The spell he did on your wound worked, but he had one of the 7th Years going into healing fix you up and get some more blood into you to make up for what you lost. He felt your body sway against his and was immediately alert, even as you gathered balance to sit up on your own. He gave you time to process your surroundings, looking down at his feet instead. It was only when you cried "Oliver!" That he averted his gaze back to you.

"Y/N" He smiled, relieved that there was some colour in your face. You seemed confused yet surprised, putting together what had happened. "I haven't seen you in... A long time. How- are you hurt?" He laughed at your maternal instincts kicking in and shook his head at you. "No, Y/N, you got hurt. You were bleeding from your head and I just barely fixed you up." A look of realisation dawned on your face. "That was you? I... Well I feel bad now."

Oliver shook his head again, an awkward silence settling over the conversation. It was you to break the silence, stating "Well, I hear you're doing well now. I watched one of your games recently, you played nice." Oliver's eyes widened and he grinned, cocking his head to the side. "I can say the same about you, Ms. Published three books. And since when did you get into Quidditch?" It was your turn to act surprised now, retorting with "I've always liked Quidditch, I just didn't used to be into it. And you know, I wanted to see what was so special about Mr. Wood's Keeper skills here." Your eyes scanned the Hall around you, and the smile on your face slowly drops. As Oliver followed your eye-line, his did too.

"You didn't? You know, lose anyone important, did you?" You ask, now sounding a lot more empathetic. "Well I almost lost you for a second there." You glance over at Oliver and smile genuinely, matching the softness in his eyes. "Let me get you home safely. Everyone's already left." You nod at his words, using his arm as a support system for you to stand. You feel his muscles contract underneath you and look back up at him.

Despite the dirt and blood that freckles his face, he looks peaceful. He looks like someone you could find peace in.

[redheadspark]

hi!! can you do number 3 with oliver wood? possibly a frenemies to lovers kinda vibe (they're friends who are quidditch rival captains and they're insanely competitive yet secretly in love with each other)??

A/N - This is great for Oliver! Thanks for requesting this!

Walls

Summary - You and Oliver were two peas in a pod, in more ways than one

Warnings - Just fluff

“Let’s see the damage,”

“It’s not that bad, I swear—“

“Now, Wood,”

“I hate it when ya use my name on me,”

You eyed him as he finally gave him, pulling off the practice sweater he was wearing to show the thin shirt that was underneath, along with the scattering of bruises that were along his skin and near his collarbone.  You tutted, walking around the bed he was perched on and seeing more damage from the match he played littered on his skin. 

“Oli…”

“It’s nothin’, luv,” He reassured you as he saw the look of concern on your face, the mixtures of blacks and blues that were etched on his skin like a brand, “Remember my third year when I broke my arm?”

“I’m peeved with Trent when he slugged that blunger at you,”

“Aye, and yet no one suspected that you and I were dancing around each other then with how you reacted, huh?”

You threw a glare at him, seeing him faintly smile as you then turned on your heel to grab a few of the ointments that you had stored in your bag, knowing that you were going to have to help him out after the brutal match you saw him in.  Of course, the last thing you wanted for him was to be hurt.

Even when he was on the opposing team.

You two were not meant to be together, not when you were the Ravenclaw Captain and Oliver was Gryffindor.  In fact, your teams were the biggest rivals to each other that year, all thanks to their captains.  You and Oliver being completive seemed to be a tame way to explain how your team was so good, tame, and positive.  In fact, you and Oliver were at each other’s throats plenty of times: fighting over practice time on the pitch, throwing jabs at one another during matches against each other, and even giving each other sneers while running to each other in the hall.  

Even one afternoon in the early fall, when a small heat wave came through the highlands when your team was coming off the pitch.  Oliver, leading the Gryffindor teams, saw you grimace as you walked past them and tugged at your practice sweater.

“I’m so hot”

“Loving the confidence,” He said under his breath for you to hear, though the rest of the team heard and laughed.  

“Oh shut up!”  You growled at him while he passed and rolled his eyes.  You both loved, craved even, the sport of quidditch.  Just to think of anyone standing in your way would be a stupid decision, and yet Oliver was the one you threw off your game.

But in the best way.

Neither of you knew when it happened, or even how.  But there was an underlying affection and mutual respect for one another from the moment you two met as captains.  Although you could be stubborn and Oliver could be hard-headed, you both admired the drive in one another and the fire in your bellies.  Almost like you both were relieved that there was another that could match the drive, the thirst to win large 

One thing led to another so to speak. One minute you two were arguing nose to nose after a very close match, the next minute Oliver had you pressed against the wall hidden away from sight at the stadium with his hands on your waist and kissing you deeply while you tugged his robes off and rang your fingers in his hair.

“Let’s get some of this on, to minimize the bruising,” You explained, getting a few drops of ointment on the gauze you had to dab along the damaged skin.  Oliver squinted from the contact, but he remained still as you were wiping the ointment along the. Spots were seen as your eyes were concentrating on your work but looking rather soft and almost hurt.  You were hurt, seeing what happened to Oliver on the topic and yet not being able to stop It from happening.  

An intense game against Slytherin House, one of the biggest games to watch in the season.  Ravenclaw was in second when it came to the standings, Gryffindor taking the lead barely while Slytherin was in third and Huflelpuff dead last.  You knew the Slytherin Captain was not a fair layer, in fact, he was prone to cheating.  You’ve played against them a few times and almost got in trouble once or twice from his ruthless behavior in a room, and yet he was able to stay on a Captain.  But in this match, you were especially worried for Oliver, you two were freshly dating and still trying to keep your relationship under wraps.  Oliver knew you were going to worry, he simply hugged you before he left for the Gyrffindor locker rooms and told you it was just a game.

And yet there he was, perched on a table, littered in bruises and seeming calm about it.

“Hey,” he hummed, reaching over to take your hand in his own and lace your fingers together.  You paused on your work on him, feeling him take a long inhale as you were watching a particularly large bruise on his neck, “I'm fine.  I’ve been worse in games, you know that,”

“He had a vendetta against you,” you said in a bite, dabbing a bit more ointment on his bruises as you went on, “We know he pays dirty and does what it takes to win. He went too far today,”

“I’ve seen him do worse,” Oliver commented, you looking at him.  His brown eyes twinkled in the light of the room, looking so gentle at you even after taking a major beating on the pitch sometime before.  You loved that about him, the competitiveness would switch off in him as soon as he would land on the ground with both feet.  You wished you could do that most of the time, Oliver made it look so easy.  

He leaned in a bit more, almost being nose to nose with you as he searched your eyes with his own, and voice low but light, “I’m gonna be okay,”

You breathed in deeply, nodding to show that you were surrendering to the worries that you had about him.  It was always a fight, when either one of you would get hurt or would be pushed too far.  But in the end, you both cared for one another far too much to let it be damaged.  

You two had one more year together at Hogwarts before being in the real world, already making plans to move in together and play professionally.  Not caring about other students finding out about your secret relationship, not needing to hide it in the shadows, or having private dates.  Being able to hold hands in the open, to kiss each other when you wanted.  At this point in your relationship, it was a dream.  

Oliver tucked you in close and hugged you tightly, kissing your hair over and over as you clung to him.  He grew on you and became your safe space, someone to talk to you about everything and anything that was on your mind.  You need held back with him and he was the same with you.  It was still surprising that two stubborn quidditch lovers with high walls around their hearts would find one another.

And let the walls crumble down.

The End

July Prompt Session

tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox