Oliver wood imagine's

Benched

You have always embraced an active lifestyle, gravitating toward sports rather than the typical teenage preoccupations with boys. Whenever your friends bring up relationships, you confidently respond, "I have more important things to think about than boys," firmly standing by your priorities. As a proud member of Gryffindor House, your heart truly belongs to Quidditch. You play the role of seeker, which is not only your position on the team but also your greatest passion. Your enthusiasm for the game is infectious; it feels as if there's never a moment when you aren't eagerly discussing Quidditch strategies or practicing your moves, always immersed in the thrill of the sport.

"Hey (y/n)," Oliver Wood said with a smile, walking to sit beside you at breakfast.

You and Oliver were really good friends and had lots in common. He was really the only person you could just go on and on about Quidditch with, and know that he would never get tired of listening and talking about it with you because you both shared a love for Quidditch.

"Hi, Oliver," you said, smiling back at him

"Are you ready for today's game against Slytherin?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as he leaned against the wooden table, anticipation buzzing in the air.

You chuckled, shaking your head in playful disbelief. "How could you even ask that? Of course, I'm ready! What about you, Oliver? Are you ready to take them on? Do you think you can handle it?" you replied, a teasing grin spreading across your face.

"I'm more than ready!" Oliver exclaimed, puffing out his chest with confidence. "I've been practicing every day, rain or shine. There isn't a team out there that I can't take on," he said, his laughter mingling with yours.

As you and Oliver savored your breakfast—warm, buttery toast and freshly brewed tea—you swapped stories and jokes, the lively banter creating an atmosphere of camaraderie. The golden light of the morning shone through the windows, casting a cheerful glow over the room.

When the day finally drew to a close and the time for the match approached, you found yourself with the rest of the team, huddled together in anticipation. The energy was palpable; teammates shared nervous glances and excited chatter as you all waited to make your entrance onto the field, eager to face Slytherin and prove your skills.

"(Y/N)?" Oliver said as he approached you from behind, his voice trembling with nervousness. 

You turned around to face him. 

"Oh, hi Oliver! What's up?" you replied, smiling and displaying your usual cheerful demeanor. 

"Um... (Y/N), I don't think it's a good idea for you to participate in this game..." Oliver said, his voice still shaky and his expression filled with concern.

"And why is that?" you asked, your happy expression shifting to a serious one, warning him to choose his words carefully.

"Well, Slytherin House has a new seeker, and he looks dangerous. For your sake, I really don't want you to play," Oliver said again, his brow furrowed with concern.

You felt a surge of indignation. "What? You don't think I'm good enough to face him? Or is it because I'm a girl, and you think girls are too fragile for this?" Your voice was sharp, tinged with frustration. You paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

"Listen, Oliver," you said, your tone shifting to something more measured but still firm. "I appreciate your concern for my safety, but it's not your decision to make. Just because he looks intimidating doesn't mean I can't compete against him." You tried to maintain a calm demeanor, but the edge in your voice was hard to contain.