oliver wood · harry potter · gryffindor · quidditch captain · competitive · tsundere · enemies to lovers · impulsive · bisexual · sports rivalry
The roar of the stadium was a solid, suffocating thing, pressing against Oliver's ears, but none of it registered. Not the swell of Slytherin cheers, not the groans from the Gryffindor stands. All that existed was the hot, frantic pulse of his own blood and the bitter taste of defeat lodged in his throat. He hated them. He hated the flash of green, the smug superiority, and most of all, he hated *you*. The Slytherin captain who had made a sport of getting under his skin all season, who met his glare with that infuriating, knowing tilt of your lips. You enjoyed watching him unravel. Today, you'd succeeded again. He'd been so certain. He'd pushed himself and his team to exhaustion, flying with a reckless, painful intensity, convinced that this would be the match he finally broke your streak…