imagine that | harry potter imagines

post-training cuddles | oliver wood x f!reader

Description: After a rainy evenings training, Oliver returns to find a bit of peace with reader

Warnings: I literally think this is pure fluff but if you find any please let me know and I'll add them! not very edited, but its self-indulgent af so hwg.

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Its the rest of the team that come streaming in first, the girls, still kitted out and soaked by rain, with faces twisted into scowls that just from looking at them, (Y/N) knows must be warranted. Then, the twins, whispering harshly to one another about 'turning his stupid hair green', followed by Harry, eyes half-lidded and taking long, drifting steps towards the dormitory stairs.

(Y/N) winces at the look of them all, placing her book down on her lap and waiting expectantly for Oliver, the undoubtable source of the rest of the teams bad mood.

She hears him sigh before she sees him, an exhausted sound that fills every inch of silence in the room. He appears much like the others, posture sunk tiredly, dirt smeared cheeks and rain-soaked hair. She offers him a sympathetic smile.

"Practice looks like it went well."

He pauses, blinking in long slow blinks, mouth falling open in surprise at finding her waiting. The common room is unnaturally quiet, with only a few first years tucked in the furthest corners. Then he's letting out a long breath and starting towards her.

"I'm knackered, Love."

She chuckles as he drops onto the couch beside her, starting upright before slowly falling to lay his head haphazardly across her lap. Her fingers find his wet hair, tutting softly and pulling her wand out to dry it with a charm.

"From the look on everyone else faces, you all are."

He lets out a soft groaning sound, twisting briefly to look up at her sheepishly.

"How mad are they?"

"I wouldn't use your own shampoo for a few days." She replies, causing another frustrated sigh. "You worked them too hard today..."

"We're so close to winning." He insists, sitting upright with a determined look on his face, "We can't risk falling behind or-"

"You're going to exhaust yourself then you've no chance of winning the cup anyway." She returns sternly, "And a big chance of being knocked off your broom by your own teammates."

He sulks for a moment, shoulders dropped and lips sloped into a subtle sort of scowl. Then, after a second of contemplation, he's expelling an accepting sigh from his lungs and nodding.

"You're right, Love." He sighs, running his fingers through his hair, "I just..."

"You're passionate," She smiles, "It's a good thing most of the time but not on a Friday night, when its pouring out and almost everyone would rather be at the Hufflepuff party down stairs."

"Party?" His brows scrunching into a confused frown, then, realisation flickering across his face, "Oh, now that you mention it... How come you aren't down there?"

"Well," (Y/N) starts, glancing to the window where the rain clicks against the panes, creating a soft sort of racket, "I figured you'd come back all soggy and tired... thought I might be able to help."

His chapped, wind-burnt lips twitch into a grin, and he drops his head this time against her shoulder, leaning in for only a second to kiss her cheek chastely. She rolls her eyes, own lips pulling into a smile.

"Don't get too smug."

"Too late."

"Hmm." She hums, "At least take your shoes off before you get too cozy, and your jumper, it's soaking."

He sighs in agreement, sitting up to pull it over his head and dropping it. It hits the ground with an unsatisfying squelch that causes each of their noises to scrunch in disgust. He kicks his shoes off haphazardly too, then settles himself by her side.

"You smell all fresh-airy," She muses as he slots his face into the crook of her neck and heaves out a sigh that has his body melting against her own. "Comfortable there?"

"Getting there," He mumbles.

(Y/N) bites back a laugh at the sudden neediness in his voice. She loves when he gets like this, all soft and sleepy. She lifts her hand to run his fingers through his hair, feeling him hum contently against her skin.

"Will you read to me?"

"You want me to read my book to you... It's a bit mushy, I'm not sure you'll like it."

"I just want to hear your voice."

"Needy- ah" She yelps at the pinch to her side, "Oi."

"Please?"

She smiles to herself, picking the book up with her free hand, the other still stroking gently through his hair. She picks up at the beginning of the chapter to give him just a little background, though she doubts he'll be listening, and begins to read aloud.

With the few remaining first years gone up to their dorm, no doubt to gossip about seeing the Gryffindor Captain so soft, and the others either planning revenge or down stairs at the party, the common room sits empty beyond the pair tangled on the sofa.

The quiet clicking of rain on the window and the crackling of the fire only add to the serenity of it all, a perfect accompaniment to the gentle sound of (Y/N)'s voice that envelopes the couple in a perfect peace.

It's not long before the breath, blown warm across the skin of (Y/N)'s neck, softens to almost inaudible snores. She stops with a soft smile, sliding the book onto the coffee table and sighing gratefully when Oliver doesn't stir.

In moments like this, it's almost impossible to imagine him stern as she knows he is on the pitch, to imagine him capable of producing the scowls and revenge plots of the rest of his team - even if only temporary.

He's so intense at times, she knows it well enough herself, but it's passion that does it, determination and love. By the end of the week they'll be lifting him on their shoulders at a victory party and forgetting all about his ridiculous training scheme.

For now though, she doesn't need to think about it, he's not Gryffindor team captain or 'bloody strict git', he's just Oliver, unfiltered and at ease. (Y/N) loves him all year round, the strict and the intense, but most of all on nights like this, when they exist alone for each other, in their own little bit of peace and it's note long before she finds herself blinking slowly to sleep in his arms.