#garreth weasley oneshot

[wedonthaveawhile]

When she says my name.

Garreth Weasley x F!MC (18+)

Garreth finds himself entangled with the heroine of Hogwarts. As their encounters become habit, they devolve into a game of power dynamics and possession.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, possesive!Garreth, dominant!Garrreth, public sex, dirty talk, aged-up characters, unrequited love, pining.

AO3 // Word count: 3k

Garreth picked at the splintered wood on his broom from a recent tussle with a bludger, scanning the courtyard intermittently for any trace of his Quidditch team. Their head of house had recently delivered a stern criticism about their hero complex. Apparently, each member was too focused on personal glory, neglecting the importance of working as a cohesive team.

He eventually detected a figure on a broom, although quickly realised they displayed a level of nimble grace far beyond what he'd expect from one of his lumbering teammates. Hogwarts' resident hero was evidently making a return from one of her mysterious outings.

His eyes swept the courtyard again, a scattering of students strolled across the well-kempt grass, a handful basked in the sun near the fountain, but none he recognised. Thinking about it, Garreth wondered whether he should hang around for this team-building training. It was probably wise, considering he was not only the captain but also the one who had organised the whole thing. However, they were running late, and he had spotted far more appealing company.

Before he could put much more thought into it, he swung his leg over his broomstick and began to silently trail the unsuspecting witch.

He couldn't quite pinpoint when he started noticing her disappearances. He assumed he just hadn't been paying much attention to her whereabouts prior to her inquiry regarding his more 'unobtainable' potions. His tactics hadn't evolved significantly since fifth-year when he’d charmed the newcomer into pilfering Sharp's office for supplies, but he had become far more adept at sneaking around for rare ingredients.

He agreed to assist in whatever scheme she was cooking up, on the condition she helped him obtain the key component. Partly for the benefits of having someone on the lookout for wandering faculty, but mostly because the beloved heroine of Hogwarts could do no wrong. If their covert operation were to be exposed, her involvement would mean the detention time his aunt dished out would be significantly reduced.

They needed snakeweed, which he was fairly certain was cultivated and harvested in the greenhouse. However, Professor Garlick was extremely protective of her plants, requiring their thieving to be done after curfew.

Moonlight wiggled through the twisted tendrils of the countless plants scattered throughout the greenhouse as they dispelled their disillusionment charm and got to work.

"What do you reckon all of this is?" The witch gestured towards a dense blanket covering the harvesting bench, a few neatly folded sheets at one end made it appear like some kind of makeshift bed.

"Perhaps the rumours about Garlick and Kogawa are true. Maybe we've stumbled upon their secret little sex den.” Garreth turned around and playfully wiggled his eyebrows, narrowly avoiding stumbling into a venomous tentacula lurking in the shadows.

She pulled back the cover, unveiling a project in progress—mallowsweet leaves neatly laid out, drying between the two blankets.

"You need to get your mind out of the gutter,” she scoffed, laying the covering back over the golden foliage. “Or you need to get laid.”

"It was a logical assumption," he argued, crouching beneath a table, casting a dim lumos across a collection of small plant pots. "The height of these tables are just right for it."

"Should I ask how you know that?"

She lifted herself onto the table as if testing the height for herself. Garreth smirked as he shifted the pots around with flicks of his wand.

"I’m a warm-blooded male, I'd say I'm an expert in these things."

Spotting a small propagation of snakeweed, he cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping a watchful eye on the door. She wasn't. She was perched primly on the edge of the table, legs pressed together from knees to toes.

His eyes roamed across her body, and he realised he had never really had the opportunity to thoroughly check her out. She was like forbidden fruit, always flanked by her two Slytherin gatekeepers. It's not that he hadn't noticed she was attractive, she certainly was. Her feminine figure hinted at subtle signs of muscle earned from days spent sprinting around the castle.

His lusty gaze travelled up to her face, only to discover she had been watching him the entire time. Suppressing the flicker of embarrassment, he instead leaned into his Gryffindor bravery. He grabbed the small pot and approached her, his hips meeting her knees with an intentional bump.

"As promised," he presented her with the delicate plant, his fingers brushing against hers as he handed it over.

"That was easy," she raised the pot to catch the moonlight. Her eyes shifted from the plant to him, and her pupils bloomed. "You've earned yourself a returning customer."

"Splendid," he grinned, wondering whether this meant more after-hour hangouts, a thought that kindled his overactive imagination. "The first one's on the house, the rest might come with a price tag."

“I suppose I’ll have to start saving then. What's your price?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make demands beyond your means,” he backtracked, worried she might think he was being serious. “Wouldn’t want to scare off my favourite customer.”

"Snagged the title of the favourite customer without parting with a single penny?” She chuckled lightly, scraping her teeth across her lower lip, “Business must be crawling."

"I prioritise quality over quantity," his eyebrow quirked as he studied her face, purposefully lingering a beat too long on her lips before flitting back to her eyes. "Now, what assets do you bring to the trading table?"

"Let me think," she reclined on her palms. "What do I bring to this specific table..." she emphasised each word with a tap of her nails against the wood, "that a warm-blooded male might find tempting?"

Heat surged through his body, and he began to regret pressing himself up against her legs, there was no way she couldn’t feel his enthusiasm swell against her knees.

“Did I mention it’s one for the price of two?”

She laughed, the sugar-sweet sound tickling his brain and the movement of her body causing her legs to part slightly.

“See, what did I tell you?" he pushed his palms against the table on either side of her thighs as he slotted himself between them. "Perfect height."

"I took your word for it. After all, you're the expert." She gave his tie a tug before running the fabric through her fingers. “Well, so you say...”

"Correct," he answered simply, because the only other words rattling around in his head was an offer to sit on his face, and he was trying really hard to play it cool.

She cocked her head to the side, “Are you going to verify that claim?”

You would have thought they were time-fated lovers, not classroom acquaintances. She had been right. He needed to get laid, and she needed some stress relief. It didn't take long before her skirt was hiked up around her waist and he was showcasing just how perfect the height of the table was. He assured her the greenhouse was soundproof due to the mandrakes, though he wasn't entirely sure if that was true. Frankly, he didn't care. Her unrestrained moaning, nails scraping across the wooden table, heels digging into his back to pull him in deeper—it made a lifetime of detention feel like a minor nuisance.

The saying goes, once is a mistake and twice is a habit, but Garreth wondered when it tipped into addiction. Whenever she was stressed—and fortunately for him, that was often—he found himself happily yanked by his tie into the nearest broom cupboard, beneath the Quidditch stands before one of his matches, by the edge of the lake under a disillusionment charm...

Maybe this time, on the balcony of the highest tower?

That's where she gracefully dismounted her broom. He followed suit, touching down behind her without a sound. Her jumper was splattered with mud down one arm, but for the most part, she was reasonably unscathed which was a rarity. She tugged it over her head to clean it with a quick charm, and he realised the stain bore a suspicious resemblance to a troll's handprint.

He knew she could handle herself, she’d been doing so for almost two years without his observations. Nevertheless, he realised he’d begun to worry about her when she was away.

He cleared his throat.

She whirled around with startled eyes and he muffled her gasp with a kiss. She squirmed for a few seconds, but her resistance crumbled as his thumbs glided up her neck, tracing delicate patterns under her ears.

He wasn't certain if she was doing the pulling or if he was doing the pushing, but somehow her back ended up crashing against the wall. Her fingers wove through his hair as his lips tore from hers and latched onto the sensitive skin of her throat.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she landed a weak thump on his bicep.

"You look like you lost a fight with a swamp," he mumbled against her skin, his hands wandering down to her hips.

"I'll have you know, I beat that swamp fair and square."

A ghost of a laugh dispersed across her neck, "I like the thought of watching you mud-wrestle. Let me come with you next time."

“Or you could come in me now?”

It was an obvious deflection tactic, but he gladly took the bait. His kisses grew forceful as he began to nip at her exposed skin.

“You better not be leaving marks, Weasley.”

He grumbled in protest against the light pink blotch he had begun to work into her throat. Something in the primal recesses of his mind itched to brand her. He wanted his lips stained on her skin, regardless of wherever or whoever she was with when she was gone.

"What if they're out of sight?" His fingers danced against her neck as he worked on undoing her tie, it fluttered to the ground before he finished asking for permission.

She withdrew her wand and uttered the incantation for a protective charm to shield their misdeeds from any potential spectators. He took that as consent, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her chest as he unbuttoned her shirt.

"Where have you been?" he probed before his teeth dug into the plump flesh above her breasts. It had been nearly nine days since their last encounter, easily their longest dry spell in the two months since their greenhouse tryst.

"None of your business," She hooked her fingers into his trousers to pull him closer, trying to find some friction.

"I want it to be.”

"Tough shit, Weasley,” her voice faltered as he hiked her skirt up around her waist.

“Garreth,” he reprimanded.

She only called him by his first name when they were fucking. He was certain she’d been deliberately conditioning him with it. If he teased her too vigorously in class all she had to do was say, "Shut it, Garreth," and he'd have to discreetly conceal his excitement for the next ten minutes. She made him dumb, plain and simple.

"You'll have to earn that," she purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.

He scooped her up, spinning her around until she perched on the balcony's banister. A yelp escaped her as she teetered on the concrete edge, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“I want to feel this tomorrow,” she popped open his buttons to speed up the process, “Please?"

“I've got you," he assured, feeling her pulse thunder against his chest as he positioned himself between her thighs. One hand supported her back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.

It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before she came along. The way she demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning. "Say please again," he whispered, nipping her lower lip as he moved her soaked underwear to the side and positioned himself at her entrance. "I like it when you ask nicely."

"Pretty please?" she simpered before kissing him, her tongue eagerly seeking his.

He swallowed her moan as he pushed himself into her, she felt better than he remembered. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave her everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around her throat, and she whined against his mouth, her head tilting back as her eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, her own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.

He pulled her close by the small of her back with one arm, maintaining his grip on her neck with the other, aligning her to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, she bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as he bottomed out.

So, it was fine when she left a mark. He'd certainly remember that.

“You feel so fucking good, Garreth-”

A fractured cry fell from her lips as he pounded into her because his name had floated off her tongue like a prayer, causing something inside him to shatter, like it always did. Defining the constantly shifting dynamic between them was impossible, but it was addicting - He always found himself craving a little more than what he was getting.

“Who do you belong to?”

Garreth threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her head up to look him in the eyes. She regarded him with a dizzy stare but remained silent. He began to slow down, and she instinctively bucked her hips to maintain some friction as her building orgasm began to ebb away.

“I said, who do you belong to?”

She wasn't his, they were both aware of that. This was never more than a matter of convenient timing and a means of stress relief. Nonetheless, he took pleasure in the hold he had over the most formidable witch of their generation. The witch with unwavering principles and determination. The witch who never faltered in her beliefs. The witch who was currently lying through her teeth for the pleasure of coming undone on his cock.

“You,” she whimpered, “Please, Garreth. Don’t stop, please.”

He didn't know if it was the way she was begging or the frantic desperation of her hips grinding against his, but he was teetering on the edge of his breaking point. He bit down hard on his lip, struggling to hold himself together long enough for her to reach the finish line.

"Chin up," he demanded, his breath coming in ragged pants as he reached one hand between them, rubbing a lopsided circle around her clit. “You look at me when you come."

He groaned through clenched teeth as his words caused her to instantly tighten around him, and that beautiful, hazy look fell over her face. She pulled him in by his collar, kissing him so hard it carved itself onto his brain and he released nine days of pent-up desire. He rolled his hips against hers as they both rode it out, briefly forgetting he should be gentle considering she was perched on the edge of a several hundred-foot drop.

He had believed there was nothing better than watching her unravel in his arms before seeking his own release, but he was wrong. Feeling her orgasm spasming over his shaft as he filled her up damn near killed him.

He fastened his trousers and helped her down from the stone balustrade. She smoothed down her skirt, trying to hide the fact that she was wobbling. He hoped his performance had met her expectations and he’d still be making her legs tremble tomorrow.

He peppered kisses across the blemishes he'd left on her breasts as he fastened the buttons of her shirt, trailing up to nip at the delicate spot on her neck just beneath her ear, the spot only he knew about, the spot that made her head tilt back and her vision fill with stars. He whispered an "Accio" against her skin, summoning a tie from the ground. He secured it around her throat with a playful tug before pulling her jumper over her head.

“You have to go?” he murmured between kisses, finding it bothered him less when he asked rather than when she told him.

Her chest heaved as she sighed, planting a lingering kiss on his lips before bending down to gather her things. “I have a study group. You’re welcome to join?”

He gave her a foggy smile and shook his head lightly. “I have some Quidditch thing I’m late for.”

“Alright, well…” She cast a fleeting glance at her abandoned broom on the floor. They hadn’t quite mastered the art of goodbyes yet. “Later, Weasley.”

“See you later,” he offered her a half-hearted wave, hoping she wouldn't make him wait another nine days before flying into his line of sight again.

As he watched her leave, he found himself wondering what impulse had led him to fasten his Gryffindor tie around her neck. There was the undeniable hope her irritation at his bold act would result in some passionate hate sex, but it ran deeper than that. It felt territorial. He’d been growing increasingly irritated with Sallow's lecherous stare and Gaunt's persistent attempts to cater to her every whim. They seemed to believe they held a Slytherin monopoly on her affections, all due to some unspoken event that happened over two years ago. Garreth understood her on a deeper level. She wanted someone who wouldn't procrastinate for two years, someone capable of making her scream on a greenhouse bench at two in the morning. He had a claim too, a far more substantial one.

[5sospenguinqueen]

CURSES & CONFESSIONS - GARRETH WEASLEY

Summary: The four times people told you Garreth was in love with you, and the one time Garreth did. Slytherin F!MC. Seventh Year.

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

Warnings: Fluff, unrequited love, shitty writing.

Word Count: 4957

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#1. Imelda Reyes

Rolling her shoulders back, MC exhaled deeply, hoping to ease some of the tension in her form. The incessant nattering of her roommate was doing little to help her efforts. Side by side, the teammates trod across the dew-dusted field, unbothered by the growing moisture on their shin pads. Morning mist clung to strands of their hair; both of them sporting green ribbons securely tying back their long locks. The Quidditch field loomed in front of them. The cheers of their fellow students beckoning them forward. Having spent the entirety of Sixth Year begging, Imelda finally convinced her competitive friend to join the Quidditch Team as their final Chaser. 

Imelda noticed the steps of her friend falter as they drew nearer. “The first game is always nerve-wracking but once you mount your broom, all worries about impending injuries vanish.” 

“Very reassuring, Reyes. Why not just tell her to take a Bludger to the head?” Sebastian Sallow commented, long legs easily catching up to them. “It’s a good thing it’s not your job to give motivational speeches to the team- Oh, wait… Maybe that’s why we lost the House Cup last year?” 

Slinging his arm across his friend’s shoulders, he grinned down at her ashy face. “Merlin, you almost look nervous,” the Beater jeered playfully, poking her in the cheek.

MC frowned, a crease forming across her brow. Goblins? No problem. Giant trolls? Easy. Embarrassing herself in front of the majority of the school? Mortifying. 

“Shut it, Sallow. We’re not going to lose this year. We have the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ on our side.” Imelda’s tone was teasing, watching her friend chafe against the title she had earned in their Fifth Year. And hated ever since. 

Eyes landing on the Quidditch tent, Imelda honed in on a smattering of red lingering outside the entrance to the changing rooms. His dark eyes were trained on the muscular arm that Sebastian had draped around MC, ready to storm over and rip it off. 

Loudly, Imelda declared, “Besides, we’re playing against Gryffindor today. We already have the upper hand against them.”

“Is that so? Do feel free to share with the group.” Leander’s haughty tone broke through the cacophony of excited spectators.

The trio turned to find him looking down at them, arms crossed against his chest. Garreth flanked his left side, expression at odds with the relaxed posture of his body. Gravitating towards the mop of red curls, MC discreetly shuffled towards him, close enough to see the condensation forming on his robes. The cool air clashing with the natural heat of his body.

Similarly to the Slytherin Beater, Weasley had undergone an enticing transformation over the summer. Even whilst slouched against the wooden beam behind him, he towered over her. The second-hand uniform that used to hang loosely on his frame, now strained against the broadness of his shoulder, pulling taut at the muscles of his biceps. When she lifted her gaze to his, he offered a genuine smile, green eyes twinkling. Her brow smoothed, eyes lightening as she smiled back at him. 

“You may be an awful strategist, Prewett, but I know better than to give the enemy important intelligence. Why would I share my secret weapon with you?” 

“I hope you’re not referring to the little witch cowering behind Sallow. If so, you’ve lost already. After all, magic is banned from Quidditch and without her extra magic, she’s not very skilled.” 

Garreth clenched his fist, knowing his friend was only trying to intimidate the group of Snakes. Punching his teammate before the Game began wasn’t the best way to win the Quidditch Cup. 

“She is going to kick your arse for talking about her like she’s not here.” MC glared up at Leander. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to relive the humiliation I dealt you at Crossed Wands, which I did without extra magic.” 

Garreth sniggered, covering it with a cough before his Captain could scold him. Opening his mouth to retort, Madam Kogawa interrupted, yelling out that there was two minutes left until the start of the Game. Prewett dashed inside the tent, remembering he still needed to strap on his knee pads. Sebastian followed closely behind, muttering about how badly he needed to piss before climbing onto his broom. 

Shifting awkwardly on his feet, Garreth hated how his large frame made his discomfort more apparent. Both women turned to look at him as he moved, unable to move subtly anymore. Having noted the trepidation on his Potions partner’s face, he wanted to offer words of encouragement. Except her Captain was looking at him as though she were plotting all the ways to throw him from his broom. The trees swayed as the wind picked up. Not the best weather for a first match. 

“Don’t get blown away out there.” Garreth internally cursed himself.

Why did his mouth insist on saying the stupidest things his brain conjured up? Instead of telling her how he wished she had a good match. How some part of him wanted her to win so that he could revel in her joy. 

An alluring spark flickered in her eyes as the competitive side of her was ignited. “Have a good game, asshole.”

“You too, Princess,” he called out after her retreating figure. The scent of her shampoo filled his nose as she brushed past him. He watched her go with a dopey grin on his face, unable to wipe it off before Imelda walked past him. She didn’t look at the redhead but he watched the Slytherin Captain shake her head in disgust, knowing it was aimed his way. 

“Forget everything I said about keeping an eye on the Quaffle.”

“Excuse me?” MC questioned, turning to face her friend as they entered the Slytherin section of the changing rooms. “Doesn’t the defeat the purpose of my position?” 

“Your new job is to tail Weasley.” Imelda had a wicked smirk on her face. One that usually accompanied words of insanity. “Weasley has been infatuated with you since you stole the Fwooper feather for him. And, as much as the babbling buffoon bothers me, once he’s in the air, he’s exceptionally talented. I need you to put a stop to that. Whenever you’re around, you’re the sole focus of his attention. I’m not even sure he’s aware of it.”

The flaps to the tent rolled back, allowing in bright bursts of sunlight. Emerald and maroon robes filed out onto the grassy pitch. 

“You’re so full of shit.” MC muttered, pushing aside the way Imelda’s words made her feel.

The only response she received was a knowing smile before Imelda slowly sailed out of the tent, and into the roaring crowd. When the whistle blew, MC was further convinced of her friend’s dishonesty. Dashing after the Quaffle, she was elated when her hands were the first to wrap around the ball. Darting across the sky, she was unable to dodge the mass of red barrelling towards her left side. The two collided. She released the Quaffle, dropping it into Natsai’s awaiting hands below. Tightly grasping the handle of her broom, it took all her strength to avoid tumbling off it.

Oblivious to the Quaffle sailing past his head, Garreth’s attention remained on MC until he was confident she wasn’t plummeting to the ground. Furious eyes snapped up in his direction but he simply winked at her, flying back into the fray. He attributed the red tinge of his cheeks to the biting wind. Not the fact that his skin heated from where it had made contact with the beautiful Snake. 

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#2. Natsai Onai

Sunshine illuminated the two Seventh Years lounging in the Transfiguration Courtyard. Bags and outer robes discarded by the bench, the pair of them curled up on the neatly-trimmed grass. Taking a much-needed break from studying, the pair of them soaked up the warm rays. Even though it was only two months into the school year, NEWTS were bogging them down. So, instead of discussing the terrifyingly long Potions essay they’d been set, the pair were gossiping about their fellow classmates.

Entering the Courtyard, Garreth was alerted to his friend’s presence when her familiar giggle reached his ears. His head whipped round, searching for her.

“Is it true that Sebastian has a basilisk inked onto his back?” Natsai asked, when MC’s laughter upon hearing about Leander’s disastrous date subsided. Her hands weaved a small pile of flowers together. 

MC lifted her head up from the cushion she had transfigured her cloak into, squinting at her friend. “Pardon?” 

“Some of the Ravenclaw girls were discussing it in the Library. I may have overhead, and decided you would be the best person to ask.” 

“And you thought to ask me, and not Ominis? Why do you think I am the most knowledgeable about Sebastian without a shirt?”

A dark shadow fell over her, stealing away the warmth that had likely burnt the skin of her nose. 

“Who’s seen Sebastian without his shirt on?” Garreth dumped his bag beside MC’s before collapsing onto the grass beside her. His hand picked up a strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers absentmindedly. “Can you believe the length of Sharp’s essay?” 

MC smiled up at him, amused by his actions. 

“I was just asking whether MC could confirm the rumours regarding Sebastian’s tattoo,” smiled Natsai, watching her housemate’s reaction closely. 

“The one on his back?” Garreth’s jaw ticked, fingers dropping the hair. “Why have you seen him shirtless?!”

Without letting MC reiterate that she hadn’t seen Sebastian without a shirt, Garreth spoke again. His teeth clenched tightly together as though the words pained him. “Although, I suppose the pair of you as a couple makes perfect sense. You would compliment each other nicely.” 

MC pulled herself into a sitting position, eyebrows knitting together. “What is that supposed-?”

“Oh, Garreth! We need another player for Gobstones.” Poppy shouted across the Courtyard, waving eagerly at him. 

Wanting to escape the bubbling feeling in his chest, Garreth excused himself, clambering to his feet before his mouth blurted out anything else he might regret. Watching the redhead make his way towards Poppy, MC felt a nauseous feeling arise in the pit of her stomach. 

“What was all of that about? Sebastian and I? Together? Merlin, it would be like dating a brother. A really annoying brother.” MC rambled. “And, could he have escaped us any faster? You would think he hadn’t seen Poppy in months instead of a couple of hours.” 

Guilt coursed through her at the ugly thoughts she was possessing, not enjoying how the idea of her friends together was making her feel. Poppy was a delightful witch, and if Garreth were to date anyone, MC couldn't think of someone who could be nicer. 

Natty snickered at the words tumbling from her friend’s mouth, watching her suck in a deep breath. “They were playing Chess in the Library earlier, but you had your head buried in your Herbology book.”

“Oh…” A dejected look overtook her face, watching the dark-haired witch laugh loudly at something Garreth said. “I wasn’t aware he felt that way about her. Although, I suppose it’s impossible not to like Poppy. She’s the sweetest. Now that I think about it, he is always patient with her, and they do spend a fair bit of time together. I think everyone should love Poppy. Oh, no… I’ve been trying to convince Ominis to tell her how he feels about her, but clearly that would be counterproductive if she and Garreth are courting. I wouldn’t want to interfere with that. Not when he looks so happy and-”

“My friend,” interrupted Natty. “Breathe.” 

Natsai looked at the witch across from her, wondering how somebody who had duelled Rookwood and survived, could be so oblivious to someone she looked at every day. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“What is going on with you and Garreth?”

“Nothing. We’re just friends.”

The fact that she didn’t ask for a further explanation told Natsai everything she needed to know. She shook her head in disbelief. “I have watched that boy almost snap his neck because he heard you laugh and wanted to see what was causing it. Even worse, I watched him smear mashed potato over his face because you walked into the Great Hall, and he was too busy watching you instead of where his fork was going.”

“I remember that,” mumbled MC to herself, before turning back to her friend. “It is sweet of you to try and boost my ego but Garreth and I don’t feel that way about each other. Poppy was next to me that day in the Great Hall. He was clearly looking at her.”

Natty enjoyed the discomfort on her friend’s face. MC clearly didn’t understand why the idea of Garreth and Poppy was so unsettling to her but Natsai certainly did. She just hoped the pair of them would figure it out soon. She had done her best to prompt her friend but it was not her place to declare the redhead’s love. That was something he needed to do himself. Ignoring the knowing smile on Natsai’s face, MC’s eyes zeroed in on the flowers in her hand. Changing the topic of conversation, she commented on the beauty of the flower crown. The Lion leaned over, placing it atop the Snake’s head. 

“I feel like a faerie princess.”

“I believe you are as frightful as one sometimes.”

“Oi! I haven’t duelled anyone in two whole days.”

“A new record.” Natty deadpanned. 

MC laughed, loud and clear. Fumbling his gobstones, Garreth’s head snapped up. His lips quirked into a smile at the joy on her face and the flowers in her hair. He paid no attention to the foul-smelling liquid spraying his robes. 

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#3. Sebastian Sallow

Legs aching, MC wished she was curled up on the couch in the Undercroft, reading to Ominis. That was how she was supposed to be spending her frosty Sunday. Instead, she was trudging along the icy pathway to Hogsmeade, eager to get to J. Pippin’s Potions. She’d overheard Garreth complaining that he was out of Bicorn horn and his latest experiment required some. Unfortunately, he had managed to land himself in detention for the first weekend of December. Professor Sharp hadn’t been overly impressed to find his hair transfigured into snakes, having been on the receiving end of the redhead’s latest concoction. The redhead had spent all of dinner last night complaining about his plans for the day had been ruined. 

Wanting to surprise him, MC decided to brave the harsh December weather to go for him. Because that was what good friends did. Nose pink and goosebumps dotting her arms, she snuggled further into her scarf and cursed when she slipped on black ice. 

Large hands wrapped around her arm, pulling her upright. “Remind me how you managed to save Hogwarts when you can barely stand on your own two feet?” 

“Are you stalking me, Sallow?”

“Absolutely. I bet you’re glad for it now.” Sebastian grinned, falling into step beside her. 

“Only because you saved me from cold and bruised buttcheeks. I shall sorely miss the peace and quiet though.” 

Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest in faux offence. “You mortally wound me. Even more so upon discovering you failed to invite me on your little outing. I thought we agreed you would stop fighting Ashwinders and Poachers alone,” he scolded. His expression turned questioning when she continued past the Forbidden Forest, instead of venturing into it as he had expected. 

“Fret not. I’m simply running errands today.”

“Even better. Any adventure with you is thrilling but the best ones involve Butterbeer and free samples from Honeydukes. Are we looking for anything in particular?”

“I need to stop by Pippin’s,” mumbled MC. 

Whilst she enjoyed Sebastian’s company, and was pleased that he preferred outings to Hogsmeade than skulking around Catacombs these days, she’d slipped away quietly that morning in the hopes of being alone. Only because she hadn’t wanted to explain what she was doing. 

“I thought you stocked up on potion supplies last week? Don’t tell me you’re out already.” Sebastian chuckled, eyes honing in on the blush staining her cheeks.

Damn him and his perception, she cursed. 

Clearing her throat, her spine straightened. “I’m not actually going for myself. Garreth mentioned he was low on some supplies.” 

“Where is your boyfriend? Why isn’t he accompanying you?”

Pace picking up as they neared the Wizarding village, she prayed that the sight of Honeydukes would be enough of a distraction to keep Sebastian from prying too deeply into the meaning behind MC’s deed. She, herself, wasn’t willing to look past the fact that she wanted to help out her friend. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she protested

To her dismay, Sebastian persisted, following her down the cobbled streets. “Have you told him that?” A gleeful grin lit up his face. 

“What are you blabbering on about?” 

“I happen to have it on good authority that he spent the entirety of Potions convincing Andrew Larson not to ask you to Hogsmeade today. That’s why he messed up his potion. For once, he wasn’t brewing his own recipe.” 

MC stopped in the middle of the path. Sebastian smacked into her back with a soft ‘oomph’, unable to slow down in time. “That’s why he’s in detention? Why would he do that? I’m not complaining because at least I didn’t have to find a polite way to deter Andrew but…”

“Why would you decline Andrew’s offer? Perhaps your answer is the same reason why Garreth convinced him not to ask in the first place.” 

“Or maybe you’re listening to gossip again, and they got it wrong. Who is this so-called good authority?”

Sebastian’s smirk deepened. “Ominis.”

“Oh.”

──────── . ☆ * ☽ * ☆ﾟ. ────────

#4. Ominis Gaunt 

Splattered with mud, strands of hair slipped from her low bun, sticking to the sheen of sweat coating her face. Her entire body groaned in protest as she and Poppy sullenly made their way up the stairs before the Great Hall. Neither were feeling particularly victorious despite having saved all animals caged up in the Poacher camp. When Poppy had suggested Flooing to Irondale to dismantle a Poacher camp, the two witches had thought they would return before dinner, pleased with themselves and the good they had done. Instead, dinner was in full-swing and all the witches wanted was to reach the Hospital Wing without detection.

The three Wiggenwelds they had taken with them were long gone, and yet numerous injuries remained. Poppy had taken a nasty hex to the chest, and MC hadn’t hesitated to shove all three of the healing potions into her mouth. Unfortunately, that meant there had been none left over for when she was thrown from a platform, body slamming into the hard ground. Despite her twisted ankle and Poppy’s bleeding forehead, they had managed to get back to the Floo flame but were deposited all the way down at the Boathouse. 

“Is that blood?” A horrified voice exclaimed.

Footsteps hurried over to them. Warm hands reached for her cheek, pulling her face into the light so that green eyes could inspect the cut marring her face. Beside her, Ominis was reaching for Poppy, wand waving to assess the damage. 

“Don’t worry. It’s not ours. Well.. not most of it.” 

“Is that supposed to reassure me?!” Garreth shrieked, looping his arm around MC’s wait to help take some of the weight off her swollen ankle.

The two men accompanied their wounded witches to the Hospital Wing. Easing MC onto the stiff white sheets of an unoccupied bed, Garreth dashed into Nurse Blainey’s office, dismayed to find it empty. Tugging at his curls in frustration, he paced back and forth, fretting about his friends. 

“Gar, it’s dinnertime.” MC reminded him, voice soft and comforting. “She’s likely in the Great Hall. We can wait, we’ll be fine.” 

“No, you can’t,” he said firmly. “You’re injured.” Pain shone in his bright green eyes. 

Demanding that Ominis keep a close eye on them, (to which the Gaunt boy promised he’d do his best, prompting MC to giggle), Garreth announced he would go hunt down their healer. Before MC could ask him to stay with her, he was dashing out of the infirmary, robes flapping behind him. She didn’t care about the pain. She had just wanted him to stay. 

“I do believe he genuinely forgot how to breathe when he caught sight of you hobbling into the castle. I almost thought I was going to have to carry all three of you into here.” Ominis spoke up, hand twitching as he fought against the urge to reach for his favourite Hufflepuff. 

“He did go rather pale when he looked at us,” snickered Poppy.

MC shifted, easing her body into a more comfortable position. “Yes, well, you seem to have that effect on him.” She winced, attributing it to the heat lancing down her spine. Nothing to do with the words she spoke crushing something deep in her chest. 

“I don’t think it’s Poppy that makes him forget oxygen is vital to living. Regardless of how adorable she is.” Ominis drawled, taking joy in the pink flush blossoming across Poppy’s cheeks. 

“I told you she was oblivious.” squeaked the Hufflepuff. 

MC scowled, discontented with the running narrative that she was unobservant. Her perception had saved Poppy’s life earlier, and her body was bruised enough to prove it. It was as if her friends had teamed up to insult her consistently this year. 

Fed up with everyone tip-toeing around the fact, Ominis decided he was no longer waiting for her to figure it out. “Please tell me that you are aware Garreth is in love with you, and has been for the past year.” 

“If not more.” Poppy chimed in, supporting Ominis’ decision. The rest of the gang decided to let Garreth tell her himself but Poppy knew he would never do it. 

“No, he’s not.” 

Ominis snorted. “He’s so infatuated with you. Even a blind man could see it.” 

“You are blind.” 

“Exactly. And I can see it.”

“You can’t see anything,” shot back MC.

She shot her tongue out at him immaturely and whilst he couldn't see it, he had the sense to lean over and punch her in the shoulder. He shrunk back in terror when MC winced and a furious voice reverberated off the flagstones; amplified for his sensitive hearing. 

“Why the fuck would you do that. She’s already injured, Ominis. I asked you to look after her whilst I was gone.” Garreth thundered, storming in.

Poor Nurse Blainey was rushing to catch up with him. A slice of carrot cake was cupped in her hand, having been grabbed just as dessert was served. 

“Mr Weasley, you made it sound as if the poor thing was on death’s door.” Blainey scolded, saving the blind wizard from Garreth’s wrath.

The healer took MC’s ankle in hand, examining the swollen ligament and apologising as the Hero of Hogwarts gasped in pain. Poppy wrapped a hand around Garreth’s wrist to prevent him from trying to push the healer away.

──────── . ☆ * ☽ * ☆ﾟ. ────────

#5. Garreth Weasley

Mended and amused by the tension in the room, Poppy thanked Nurse Blainey for healing her before taking her leave from the Hospital Wing. MC had insisted that Poppy be seen to first, despite the Hufflepuff being mainly mended by the earlier Wiggenwelds. MC watched her and Ominis leave, hand in hand. A pitiful sigh escaped MC’s mouth as she watched them. That’s what she wanted. Someone who loved her enough to hold her hand in public, propriety be damned. The only issue was that she would only be satisfied if it was with the man beside her. The man who was also watching the new couple go, an unreadable expression on his face. Most likely agonised over watching the woman he liked walk away with another man. Ominis had finally worked up the courage to ask Poppy to accompany him to The Three Broomsticks. 

“Best drink it all in one go, dear.” Nurse Blainey advised. She had mixed numerous healing positions into one foul-smelling tonic, handing it over in a wooden goblet. “You’ll have to stay here for the night whilst your fracture mends but Mr Weasley is welcome to stay with you until curfew. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m hoping I can catch the end of the Feast. I’ve been looking forward to the choir all week.” 

Thanking the healer, MC immediately mentally cursed her when she swallowed the contents of her cup. The vile taste of the potion had her gagging, coughing loudly. Instantly, Garreth was there, a glass of orange juice in hand to chase the taste away. He had listened to MC recount the events of her fight - and the extent of her injuries - to Nurse Blainey in complete silence. Even now, he said nothing as the door shut behind the healer. The loud click echoed in her ears, reminding her that the pair of them were entirely alone. 

“You don’t have to stay with me. I’m sure you have better things to be doing.”

Garreth nodded but made no effort to move. An uncomfortable silence settled over them for the first time since their friendship developed. Their time together was usually filled with babbling antics and loud laughter. Now, the pair struggled to string a sentence together. MC’s hands moved towards each other, Garreth’s eyes tracked her movements. Fingers cracking her knuckles, she was desperate for something to focus on. Something aside from the hollow look in Garreth’s eyes. His hand shot out to still hers, and stayed there. His fingers enveloped hers, curling around her. As if he were grounding himself, reminding him that she was still here. Her heart stuttered in her chest. The tissues in her ankle slowly started realigning, pulling a pained gasp from her mouth. The sound dragged an anguished noise from Garreth’s chest. 

“Garreth, are you okay?” She whispered, concerned by his unnerving silence.  

A bitter laugh escaped his mouth. “Me? You’re the one who had to drag herself back to the castle, injured.” 

“I’m fine.” She grabbed his other hand when he turned his head away in disbelief. Garreth’s eyes instantly shot to hers. “Look, I’m alive. Unharmed.”

“But you weren’t!” He snapped. “You went out, alone. In the dark with only Poppy as your backup, and the pair of you came very close to not coming back.”

Her eyes stung at the harsh tone directed towards her. She chalked it up to being overtired and emotionally drained. Not because she felt as if she were being reprimanded. 

Garreth charged forward, oblivious to the look on her face. “I spent all evening looking for you, worried out of my mind because nobody knew where the pair of you were.”

“I told Sebastian-”

“Who was hidden away all day in some secret underground only you and Ominis know about!” 

Infuriated that tears were still pooling in her eyes, MC snapped back. “I don’t have to tell you where I am every minute of every day. You’re not my keeper! If you’re concerned that I’m dragging Poppy into danger then you should take that up with her! Besides, she’s the one who suggested we go. She made it quite clear it didn’t matter if I came or not so I went for her safety.”

“I don’t care about Poppy!” Garreth exploded, not meaning it in the way it sounded aloud. “Why must you bring her up in every conversation we have? Godric, you make it so hard to care about you sometimes.” 

MC sniffed before icily responding. “Then don’t bother. Walk away, Garreth, I’m not your problem.”

Garreth stood, and she thought he was going to listen to her, and leave. She didn’t truly want that but if she were such a burden- The pot at the end of her bed sailed across the room, smacking into the floor with a loud thud. When he turned to face her, there was no anger on his face. Only anguish. He wasn’t mad at her. He was furious with himself, for not being honest. For not being able to say the words desperately hanging to the tip of his tongue. If he had told her the truth last year, perhaps he would’ve been with her at the Poacher camp. Maybe he could have saved her from the bruises welting her back. 

“You don’t understand. I want you to be my problem. I want to worry about you, and I want to drag you to the Hospital Wing when you’re injured. Although I would really prefer you remain unharmed. But because I want to hold you in my arms afterwards, knowing you’re safe. I want to comfort you when defeating Poachers doesn’t go the way you expected. I want to take you to Hogsmeade, and hold your hands around the shops. I want to see you laugh, and know why you did so. And, I want to kiss you before a Quidditch match and when you win, even if that means I’ve lost. You are the cause of all my distractions, and the only regret I have is that you fail to understand how deeply I care for you.” 

“But, you and Poppy and seem so close?”

Was that really all she could say, MC chided herself. 

“Because she’s been trying to convince me to tell you how I feel.”

“Oh.”

“I love you. I am so deeply in love with you that every potion I’ve invented for the past year smells like you.”

And, as his thumb brushed her cheek and he leaned in closer, MC truly believed Garreth Weasley loved her. 

[atypicalamortentia]

it's akready 1am and I've been re-reading all your written works are so chefkiss, wish you can write a spicy Gareth oneshot though, rereading your headcannons made me just so AHHHHHH😩

Shouldn't || Garreth Weasley

Synopsis - You meet up with Garreth in Hogsmeade after promising yourself you wouldn't...

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Characters are aged 18+!

Word Count - 2.9k.

{Caffeinate Me} || {TikTok}

Your relationship with Sebastian Sallow started five years ago: five long, yet blissful years. You were engaged to him, living together and overall extremely happy with your relationship.

Since leaving Hogwarts, after everything that had happened, you had developed some issues with your mental health - everything seemed like a chore to you and your mood was constantly up and down. Sebastian was nothing if not supportive, always reassuring you that everything was okay and that he was there for you through thick and thin: he wouldn’t have put that ring on your finger otherwise. So why was it, when Garreth Weasley got in contact with you again after all these years, did you find yourself suddenly unhappy in your relationship? Garreth was all you could think about and you found yourself talking to him constantly, even when Sebastian was sitting next to you. It was definitely getting out of control. 

“Garreth, we shouldn’t meet,” you had said to him over the phone. 

“Why?” Came his voice, angelic like. 

“Because I don’t trust myself,” you replied honestly. Your response had taken Garreth back, but he had agreed. He didn’t necessarily trust himself either. 

Garreth had always had a crush on you, even when you were at school. He knew he should leave you alone, being engaged to Sebastian and all, but he couldn’t help himself. When you texted him first thing in the morning, it made his heart swell. When you updated him on your day, it made him smile. And when you texted him goodnight, he yearned for you. He simply couldn’t get enough. He spent so many lonely nights with his cock in his hand, jerking himself off to photo’s of you on social media and listening to voice notes you had sent of you just explaining how you felt. He had it bad for you, and he knew it. Equally you were no better. Fingering your tight cunt to his voice notes back to you, his soothing voice like music to your ears as you came undone. Sebastian just wasn’t cutting it for you anymore and you felt so guilty. 

Despite agreeing that you wouldn’t meet up together, you found yourself stood in Hogsmeade playing with your fingers nervously as you waited for Garreth. Your engagement ring on your finger, a reminder of what you were betraying by indulging in your fantasies. “Y/N?” His voice came, pulling you out of your guilt-filled trance. 

“Garreth!” You forced a smile and immediately wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in his chest and inhaling his scent. 

“You okay darling?” He asked, the pet name rolling from his tongue was as sweet as honey. You nodded, looking up at him, that same forced smile on your face. Garreth kissed the top of your head, forcing a blush to rise to your cheeks. “How are you really?” Garreth asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He knew you had been struggling lately and wanted to make sure you were doing okay. 

“I’m okay,” you said softly as you returned to playing with your ring. There was something about him that had butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. “How are you?” You asked back. 

“I’m good now that you’re here,” he grinned down at you, watching intently as you bit your bottom lip nervously. 

“What should we do?” You asked as you looked around at the shops in Hogsmeade. There were so many things you could do together, but your mind was on one thing and one thing only. Being this close to him was intoxicating, especially after all the back and forth flirting you had been doing over the phone.  

“We could go to The Three Broomsticks. Grab a drink?” Garreth suggested. 

“That sounds like a good idea,” you nodded as you began to walk in the direction of the pub. 

You felt Garreth grasp your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as you walked. You immediately felt your heart skip a beat upon the contact and your palms began to get slightly sweaty, but Garreth didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he just held your hand tighter as you walked to The Three Broomsticks. When you entered you found a spot in the corner, somewhere you couldn’t be seen unless someone was really looking for you. Even though you were simply just ‘meeting a friend’ your intentions felt seedy, especially since the wetness between your legs continued to grow at Garreth’s touch. “So,” Garreth smiled as you sat down in the booth. “What shall we have? Firewhiskey?” 

“That sounds delightful,” you smiled. 

Garreth walked away and went to the bar to order your drinks. Within moments he was back holding two glasses of firewhiskey. “Here you go beautiful,” he said, sliding the glass to you with a wink. You couldn’t help but blush as you immediately sipped on the fiery liquid. It burnt down your throat and you pulled a funny face that had Garreth smirking at you. “Burning?” 

“Yeah,” you replied, sticking your tongue out in disgust. 

“That’s the best part,” he smiled, taking a sip of his own drink. “Have you never had a firewhiskey before?” 

“Only once back at Hogwarts with Sebastian,” you replied honestly. Garreth rolled his eyes at the mention of your fiance, jealousy bubbling slightly in his gut. The fact you chose to marry Sallow over anyone else really grinded his gears. “Have you?” 

“Oh all the time,” Garreth responded. “It’s one of my favourites to drink on a night out in Hogsmeade.” 

“Really?” You asked, taking another sip. 

“Yeah,” Garreth replied. He continued drinking until there was nothing left in his glass, placing it down rather loudly on the table. “Oops, sorry!” He said, laughing slightly. 

“How on earth did you drink that so fast?” 

“Practice,” Garreth grinned. You rolled your eyes and placed your half empty cup down onto the table next to Garreth’s empty one. You both decided to chat about your time at Hogwarts, laughing and joking at some of his failed attempts to impress during potions class. It was always the way with him: experiment after experiment. 

You were now three glasses of firewhiskey in and your vision was starting to go blurry. “I didn’t think you’d want to meet with me,” you slurred.

Garreth grasped your thigh under the table and gave it a slight squeeze. “Why not?” He asked, leaning in towards you. 

“Well you said you wouldn't trust yourself if you met up with me,” you whispered, eyes drifting down to his lips. 

“So did you,” he pointed out. 

“Trust yourself with what, exactly?”

“I don’t trust myself to not fuck your brains out,” his voice came out like a whisper in your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Arousal grew in your stomach at his words and you knew in that moment there was no coming back from this. 

“Oh really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. You knew you shouldn’t start something, but you couldn’t help it. 

“Yeah. Really,” Garreth’s voice was still a breathy whisper against your earlobe: something that drove you mad. His hand on your thigh tightened its grip and his thumb gently stroked your exposed skin. Of course you chose today of all day’s to wear the new skirt you had bought. “Do you want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you?” He asked. You couldn’t respond with words, not trusting them to come out in a calm and cool manner, so instead you just nodded your head. Garreth let out a slight chuckle as he moved his face even closer to yours, lips skimming your cheek. Your heart was beating a million miles an hour at this point and despite the alcohol that had clouded your senses, you could clearly see where this was going to end up. “Kiss me,” he begged, his lips chasing yours within an instant. You closed the gap completely, pressing your lips against his firmly. Butterflies continued to explode in your stomach as Garreth’s tongue licked your bottom lip, clearly wanting entrance into your mouth. You opened your mouth slightly, giving the ginger-haired male exactly what he wanted. A groan of approval left his lips the second his tongue brushed against yours. The kiss was passionate, dominant, something you hadn’t realised you had needed in a long time. 

When you pulled away, you looked at Garreth through your lashes, blinking rapidly at him. You were most certainly swept away by the kiss. “Do you want to leave?” You asked seductively. Garreth just nodded his head, removing his hand from your thigh and standing up. Like the true gentleman he was, he offered you his hand to take once he had stepped out of the booth before dragging you outside The Three Broomsticks. 

“Where do you wanna go?” Garreth asked, looking you up and down while biting his lip. 

“Anywhere,” you replied breathlessly. Sebastian wasn’t home today, he was working, providing for the small family you had together, but you didn’t think you’d be able to make it back to your house before you passed out from the sheer amount of arousal you were feeling. “How about down there?” You asked, pointing to a secluded alley. 

Garreth led you down the secluded alleyway, immediately pushing you against the wall when you were out of earshot, and sight, of the others in Hogsmeade. His lips attached against yours so rapidly that you let out a little squeak of surprise before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. It felt so wrong and yet so right at the same time. The pair of you wasted no time: Garreth had bunched your skirt up to your waist, pushing your underwear to the sides of your puffy, soaking folds while you unbuckled his trousers, feeling the strain of his erection through his boxers. He was hard, oh so painfully hard. “Merlin, I want to taste you,” Garreth whimpered, dropping to his knees and forcing one of your legs over his shoulders so he could get at the perfect angle. The one leg holding you up buckled the second his tongue came into contact with your slit, hands flying to his hair almost immediately in a futile attempt to stop his ruthless assault. 

“We - ah - we don’t have time for this!” You pouted, watching as his tongue darted into your tight hole and out again, returning to your clit. You were embarrassed to admit you were almost close to cumming. 

“Just a few more seconds,” came Garreth’s muffled voice as he slurped at your sensitive nub. “You taste so good.” 

“You really think so?” You asked, one of your hands covering your blushing face. Garreth just nodded, licking you with as much fever as he could. The way he was going at it just did something to you: no one had ever eaten you out like this before. Garreth prodded a finger at your entrance, teasing you before pushing it in slowly, his lips still attached to your clit. “Oh Merlin!” You cried out, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sounds escaping your lips. 

“Cumming already?” Garreth teased as he pulled away from you for a split second, allowing your juices to squirt from you like they never had before. Your legs shook violently, back arching against the wall in an attempt to keep yourself upright as your orgasm washed over you. Shamelessly, Garreth opened his mouth, catching as much of your squirt in his mouth as he could as he pumped his finger in and out of you, clearly pushing you over the edge. You were overstimulated for sure. When you had stopped squirting, Garreth placed a chaste kiss to your now throbbing clit and looked up at you. “Are you ready for me baby girl?” 

“Yes, oh please,” you begged, voice babbling. Your brain was fuzzy. 

Garreth unhooked your leg from his shoulder and stood up, grasping your hips and turning you around to face the wall. You stuck your arse out as much as you could as your companion pulled his aching cock out of his boxers. He spread your cheeks, admiring the way you clenched around nothing as you anticipated his cock. You were practically shaking. Garreth grabbed the base of his cock and gave it a few experimental pumps before lining himself up with your entrance and slowly inserting himself inside of you. The pain of the stretch felt too good and a wanton moan left your lips. Garreth’s hand quickly placed itself over your mouth to cover up the noise, not wanting to gain any attention from the passersby. He took a second before beginning to move, his hips slowly snapping against yours. Not even Garreth could help the moan that fell from his lips. You felt better than he’d ever imagined. You were so tight and warm and wet, and were sucking him inside of your body. 

“More,” your voice croaked at him. 

“More?” He asked teasingly. You nodded your head as Garreth continued to thrust against you harder, hitting that sweet spot inside of you already. All thoughts of your fiance were out of your mind, there was no guilt at the current moment and it felt good. You grasped the wall tightly, nails dragging down the stone as Garreth’s hand fell from your mouth to your hips, angling you in a way that had his cock pressing deeper inside of you. You wanted to yelp, but you couldn’t. You bit your lip, hard, and squeezed your eyes shut as his movements sped up. His cock was huge, definitely not what you had imagined from the somewhat nerdy potions boy from school. His cockhead kissed your cervix as he continued to pound against you, lips tracing your exposed neck as he breathed heavily. “Fuck Y/N, you feel so good.” You wanted to say that he felt good too, but all that came out of your mouth was a string of “fuck”’s and “shit”’s. Tears welled up in your eyes as his pace became more and more ruthless, all that desperation and wanting had left him so pent up the last few weeks that all he could think about was cumming inside of your sweet cunt. A hand fell from your hips to strum your clit once again, pushing you to the brink of a second orgasm. Garreth could tell from the way your walls were clenching around him. “It’s okay baby girl, let it go,” he cooed against your neck. 

Almost on command you did. Your second orgasm washed over you. Your head slumped against the cool brick of the wall as you bit your lip once again to stop yourself from screaming. This time, your entire body shook, pleasure shooting up your form as you came. It was an experience like you had never had before, but the guilt hadn’t set in yet. “Fuck, Garreth!” You whimpered pathetically, hand slapping at the wall in front of you. 

“I’m gonna cum now baby girl, okay?” Garreth asked. You nodded in response, feeling the force of his thrusts become more brutal by the second as he reached his own release. “Shit. Fuck. Shit!” Garreth called out, his cock twitching ruthlessly inside you as thick ropes of cum spurted deep into your womb. As his hips stilled against yours, your mind began to process everything that had happened. You felt his hot mixture inside of you, something you hadn’t felt in years. Sebastian was always insistent on wearing protection to prevent pregnancy, but Garreth didn’t seem to mind the possibility. Either that, or he just didn’t care. He pulled out of you slowly, the cool air against his now softening cock made his entire body shiver. Within seconds he was fully zipped up and pulling your underwear back over your cunt, and your skirt back down over your arse. He turned you back around to face him, pulling you close against his body and kissing the top of your head. “I love you,” he mumbled. 

Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. “You… Love me?” You asked, slightly confused. 

“Yes, fuck yes I do. I love you,” Garreth chuckled. He pressed another kiss to the top of your head and smiled. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

“I don’t wanna go home yet,” you whispered, nuzzling into his chest. 

“Then why don’t you come to my home?” Garreth offered. Again, you looked up at him in surprise. 

“Really?” You asked. 

“Yeah! My parents are gone for a few days, why don’t you come round for an hour?” He suggested. 

You looked at the time and nodded, knowing Sebastian wasn’t going to be home for a few more hours. You took Garreth up on the offer. You used Floo Flames to travel to his home and quickly nestled yourself in his bed. The warmth of the covers soothing you as the guilt began to eat at your gut. You practically made your bed, and now you had to face the consequences. But you were stuck with what you were going to do. You loved two men, how was that even possible? You sighed as Garreth lay down next to you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling you close yet again. He stroked your hair until you finally fell asleep, dreaming of your adulterous escapade. You’d figure out what to do later, but for now, you just wanted to be in Garreth’s arms.      

[eggymf-archived]

no place like home;

ft. garreth weasley with f!reader/mc (one-shot)

themes: hurt to comfort, angst to fluff, established relationship, aged-up characters, post-hogwarts, fiance!garreth, ex!dark!mc, slytherin!mc, 3rd person pov

warning: two idiots in love arguing, mc being the bigger idiot for once, implied traumatic events, implied violence, not spoiler-free, get a load of this sap

summary: she couldn't bear to make him suffer with every horrific danger that constantly chases her, hence she decides to run away one rainy summer night.

word count: 3.2k

a/n: happy weasley wednesday! this is my first entry and fic of garreth actually. i’ve decided to frankenstein the [lyric prompts] sent by @applinsandoranges​​ a while back along with the weekly prompt for weasley wednesday, “wet”. also, if you have read these two smut oneshots (pt.1 and pt.2), this fic features the same mc (just older). that aside, enjoy? :D

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

bonus: audio

It was during the summer of 1892 — the year when they finally graduated from Hogwarts. 

She never expected to be given the privilege of spending the summer after her 7th year with Garreth. It was undoubtedly what she truly needed: an opportunity to escape from the utter chaos of the life she has within her own family home in London: specifically her father's seething wrath after that stunt she had pulled, which almost destroyed their own family’s stellar reputation within the wizarding world's pureblood society. 

Family drama aside, not only was it the perfect time for her to rest and recuperate, but it was also the chance for her to contemplate the future now that she has broken free from the shackles of her responsibility as an heiress (temporarily, that is). Perhaps in the midst of it all, she could also make amends for her past wrongdoings.

Oh, but [what on Earth can atone for all the wrong things that she had done]? 

It wasn’t an easy task, to say the least, for the blood that was spilled on her hands all in the name of the greater good has long stained her psyche. There was an insurmountable amount of filth that resides within her as the vessel of accumulated pain, and all she could do was endure the ordeal. The moment she had made that dire decision in the repository during her 5th year, she was doomed to a life of loneliness, but all of that changed during her 7th year when the threads of her own fate were intertwined with his.

She never would've expected that Garreth Weasley out of all people would serve as the beacon that would lead her back to all that had been long forgotten — her own happiness. 

Truth be told, she wasn't the most forthcoming with the notion of romance in general due to her unsavory experiences and personal issues, opting to steer clear of the entire topic in general. In fact, she was better off alone, but for some miraculous reason, the fiery-haired male had managed to creep into her heart, taking his rightful seat on its long-abandoned throne. It was truly a mysterious outcome, for nobody would've foreseen the unusual relationship to even happen, much less prosper.  

A Slytherin and a Gryffindor; the celebrated hero and an aspiring potioneer. They were like day and night; the sun and the moon — ever so different, yet fell in love too soon. Perhaps the irony of it all was what truly brought the both of them together, regardless of all their atrocities, differences, and follies combined. 

But even the greatest of love stories always had their own fair share of trials and tribulations, and the silly, dramatic little tale of her and Garreth weren't an exception. She remembered it all vividly: the times when she'd discourage him from pursuing her, only for her to fall harder and harder for him in the end.

“You'll never know peace a day in your life once you decide to be with me, Weasley.”

“I'm not good for anyone, lest you want a head full of gray hairs before you reach the age of forty.”

“You're better off without me, I assure you.”

“Garreth, please don't. I'll ruin your life.”

Yet her words, no matter how grim, threatening, or incessant, would always be met with his adorably goofy little grin along with the same simple reply that held the undying promise of his devotion and loyalty.

“I know.”

If only things were that simple.

From this moment onwards, ["I know" is never good enough] — not when she's aware of the dire consequences that would soon follow should she decide to pursue the yearnings of her poor, naïve heart. It was too huge a risk to gamble the life of the man who had brought her solace and joy amidst the pandemonium that rages within her blackened soul, for he was all she had left — the only person who would never treat her as a pawn across the chessboard; her most trusted confidant, companion, and lover: her chosen family.  

The musical incantation of Vulnera Sanentur from his Aunt Matilda's lips was all that she heard whilst she silently wallowed in her own thoughts of self-blame, her eyes darting around the damaged parts of their humble abode out of pure guilt. She glances at Garreth's father, who winces as several hands aided him to sit more comfortably on the sofa. His younger sister and older cousins scampered around to repair the several damages within the house whilst checking up on the others after the incident.

It was an ambush by dark wizards: the ones who sought to covet the corrupted power within her. Despite her not being a family member of the Weasleys, they fought gallantly alongside her, defending her as if she was one of their own. Although they are well capable of empathizing and understanding her prior violent display of magic within the heat of battle, it did not quell the bubbling shame that stews within her being. 

It was almost the norm for her to be targeted by the enemies that she had made in her past battles, but to be attacked while she was in Garreth's family home? To put the Weasleys in danger? Preposterous. Utterly preposterous. She'd never forgive her enemies for it. Hell, she'd never forgive herself for it either. 

The warmth of Garreth's palm on her arm startled her from her train of thought whilst she was in the middle of repairing the broken walls, offering her a kiss on her forehead the moment her head turned. 

“Garreth…” her voice, uncharacteristically small and hesitant, trails off while he cups her cheek, tracing his thumb over her delicate face as a form of reassurance.

“It’s not your fault, so please don’t think about it too much, alright? We’ll handle it from here,” he reassures.

Despite her evident disagreement with her fiancé's words, she bit her tongue, not wishing to add any more fuel to the fire. She gave the Weasleys one final glance as she headed to the kitchen to help his mother prepare their dinner for tonight while the others focused on either healing their mild injuries or fixing the damages within their house.

The Weasleys were a beautiful family. It was the ideal family that she would truly love to be a part of in a heartbeat: they were kind-hearted, selfless, and honorable, never swayed by the adversaries that came their way. It was for this very reason that she decided to protect them with all that she has, and she would never allow a single soul to harm even the hairs on their head even if it means that she has to bring herself out of the picture in the end.

Thus, she has made her final decision. 

[She's only safe when she's alone], just as they'd be a whole lot safer without her presence. She could easily slaughter anyone who stood in her way without fear of disappointing anyone with her ruthlessness, and none of her loved ones would be used as ammunition to make her submit to her enemies’ bidding. This painful choice was truly for the best — such as the fate of all fallen “heroes” who walk a lonely, dark path.

Yet despite all the danger he'd have to face and the sought-after coalesced filth of humanity that literally resides within her, her departure was Garreth’s greatest fear.

It was on the same day of the incident that he received the heartbreaking news in the middle of that particular rainy night. His sister was about to pay her a visit for their usual heart-to-heart session, only to find out that she was no longer in their home.

“Gone? What do you mean she’s gone?!” he bellowed, fear lacing his voice as he sped towards the guest room with soft footsteps trailing after him.

“Garreth, I'm sorry. I went to her room and—”

Not giving his younger sister a chance to finish, Garreth barged into the guest room with evident panic, only for his heart to sink at the sight of a room that was entirely bare of her belongings except for a note that she had hurriedly scrawled before she left.

I'm sorry. I love you.

Garreth quickly ran down the flight of stairs and straight to the exit of their home. The shouts and cries of his name fell on deaf ears as he bolted out of the house, racing into the chilly night with a million panicked thoughts buzzing unpleasantly within his head as raindrops drizzled upon his form.

[She had his heart, and he could only hope that she wouldn't hurt him] permanently with one measly written goodbye. He was angry and dismayed with her drastic decisions that lacked his consultation, but he simply couldn't allow all that they'd built to just disintegrate in a blink of an eye. She was, after all, his dearly beloved — the person he'd give his all without a second thought.

As soon as the thunder rumbled, he hurriedly took out the piece of parchment that she had left, casting a tracking charm with his wand. The piece of paper immediately bursts forward, leaving a trail of glittering golden dust for him to follow before the increasingly damp piece of parchment falls to the ground. The spell worked, and it only meant that she hadn't wandered off too far.

He knew exactly where she was from where the trail was heading. With the location clearly visualized within his mind, he apparates to their usual spot, hoping that she was still within the particular vicinity.

Needless to say, he was right.

There she stood in front of the tree where they often frequented for their usual picnics — the place where it's usually just the two of them, gazing upon the meadows of the countryside whilst enjoying the summer breeze. She looks upon the ring that was on her left hand, admiring the ruby and two small diamonds that glimmered under the moonlight. With great reluctance, she attempts to slide her engagement ring off, intending to keep it within their box of little keepsakes before she leaves, which was contained within the tree's hollow.

Amidst the soothing pitter-patter of raindrops, the sound of an audible crack was soon heard from a distance followed by several thuds of footsteps, effectively stopping her. She whips her head in the direction of the sudden noise, only for her eyes to meet a pair of emerald-green orbs. 

[Sometimes, she forgets that she was his] — he'd always find her wherever she may be simply because he knew her that well. She should've expected that he'd figure out her whereabouts within minutes after she had left the Weasley family home. He was, after all, her dearly beloved — the keeper of her heart; the one who knows her better than herself.

“Blast, I shouldn't have loitered around…” she thought ruefully as she faced him completely, a shaky breath escaping her lips as she braced herself for an earful. Instead, he runs towards her with a relieved expression, pulling her into his embrace before kissing her fervently. 

As if it were right on cue, the rain began to pour harder, just like those dramatic little romance novels written by Muggle authors. His touch, although scorching against her cold, damp skin, brought relief to her mind, body, and soul. 

It was only he could bring her such solace, nobody else.

As soon as his lips parted from hers, he grabbed her bag nearby before turning to her direction once again with a tired sigh. Before she could retaliate, he swung his arm around her, engulfing her in his arms before apparating back to his home — specifically into the living room, where the rest of the family was awaiting their return. A blush crept up to her cheeks upon feeling their eyes on her and Garreth, who held her by her waist. The both of them were soaked to the bone with their clothes and strands of their hair clinging uncomfortably onto their skin.

Wordlessly, Garreth set her bag on the ground before flicking the tip of his wand at both of them, casting a drying spell before making his way to the kitchen. She winced at his deathly silence, while the others glanced at each other with an evident grimace as well.

“... Alright, you lot! Off to bed, we go. Come along now!” his mother urges, pushing the other family members right towards the staircase, much to his younger sister's and cousins' chagrin.

“But mum—!”

“Shhh!”

She received several apologetic looks and pats of good luck from his cousins, for she was obviously going to need it. Garreth was upset — abysmally upset to be precise. It was a rare occurrence, but whenever it happens, it was a painful punch to the gut.

Silence looms over the living room, the thumping of footsteps dying out as they scamper to their bedrooms, leaving her and Garreth alone on the first floor of their home.

“Garreth…”

Silence.

“Garreth, please say something?” she pleads, all to no avail. He remains tight-lipped, averting his gaze from her as he grabs the nearby teapot to pour each of them a cup of tea.

She hated it when he was like this, but his reticence was definitely warranted. She sighs in defeat, finally deciding to stop beating about the bush.

“... The attack from earlier—”

“—Was, again, not your fault. And you ran away because you didn't want any of us to get hurt. I know that,” he cuts her off bitterly before he sips his cup of tea in hopes of calming himself down. 

“Then you're aware of the dangers, Garreth. You've seen what they're capable of. You've experienced it for yourself.”

“Yes. So?”

“So why did you bring me back? You know that chaos ensues whenever I'm around, and it's never the good kind.”

“Really, now? Seems like a pretty peaceful night to me until you decided to leave,” he sarcastically snapped, much to her exasperation.

“Garreth, for god's sake—”

He slams his cup on the countertop, nearly shattering the object. His frown deepened, finally looking at her with a glare.

“A note with no explanations? Sneaking out right under my nose? Is that how trivial our relationship is to you?” he asks with a tone mixed with anger and hurt. She visibly pales at this, panic evident within her eyes that he would even think of such a thing.

“Garreth that's not—”

“—what you meant? Oh, believe me, I know. But it certainly feels that way and it's really upsetting. I'm not mad though. I could never be mad at you, but I'm sick and tired of you pushing me away at every bloody inconvenience!”

“I'm doing this for your sake! As long as I'm around, you and your family will always be—”

“I didn't ask you to play hero for us!”

“So you'd rather thoughtlessly sacrifice everyone else just to keep me around?!”

“YOU'RE MY FIANCEE FOR GODRIC'S SAKE!” 

She was stunned into silence by his raging outburst, all retaliations within her head immediately disappearing as he ran his mouth, pouring out every single trace of frustration that had accumulated within his chest.

“Don't you know you're just as important as everyone else in here?! I know what I signed up for — mum knows, dad knows, my little sister knows, every single relative knows! You're already a part of this family at this point!” he continues exasperatedly, running his fingers through his hair out of sheer agitation. “Gods, you’re always like this! I hate that you feel the need to constantly tell me I shouldn’t be with you! I’m still here, aren’t I? Is that not enough for you?!”

She looks away, letting out a shaky exhale while she clenches her fists, her eyes becoming glassy with tears. His heart was thumping loudly, his chest heaving as his emotional hurt slowly descended from its peak. His glare soon faltered the moment he realized the aggression of his words, his fiery anger slowly dissipating as he stared at her with guilt simmering within his gut. Her eyes were downcast while she chewed on her lip, desperately keeping her emotions under wraps while placing her arms gingerly around herself to soothe her nerves.

With an aggravated sigh, he gently pulled her into a warm embrace. She whimpers at his display of tenderness despite the prior exchange of heated words, finally letting her tears run free as she wraps her arms around his waist, a string of apologies pouring out from her lips. He pressed his lips at the side of her head before parting from her as he cupped her face with both of his hands.

“Darling, listen to me. Look at me.”

She acquiesced, her bleary sight slowly trailing up to meet his verdant-hued eyes, which gazed upon her with pure love and adoration despite his recent display of anger. 

“I know I may not be the best man for you, but you best believe that I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe. When I swore to you that I'll accompany you to the ends of the earth, I meant every single word,” he whispers with heartfelt sincerity, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. “But all I ask of you is to please have a bit of faith in me; in us — that we’ll manage all of this just fine. Please, I love you too much to let you go...”

“But… Your family…” she meekly sobs.

“Then we'll live alone together, just the two of us.”

“But what about you?”

“Then I'll be stronger for you! Hell, I'll beg Sallow to teach me how to duel better if I have to so please…” he begs, his voice cracking. 

“Don't ever leave again. Stay with me until the very end.”

At that moment, she finally caves into her heart's desire, standing on her tiptoes to urgently plant her lips on his without hesitation while his hand flew to the small of her back, the other placing itself at the back of her head to press her further into him. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally parted, gazing at each other's eyes with a smile of relief etched onto their faces. A surprised yelp escaped her lips as he scoops her up into a bridal carry, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“Well then, now that's done and settled, let's get you to bed, shall we?” he grins, his anger completely appeased by her response.

“At least let me bring my bag upstairs first, love. I need my clothes,” she laughs.

“Clothes? For what?”

“...To change in?”

“Oh, trust me. You won't be needing them tonight,” his voice drops into a teasing whisper. 

Her eyes widened, warmth creeping to her cheeks at his insinuation. He chuckled at her reaction, planting a kiss on her cheek before heading upstairs with her in his arms. The tense aura that loomed over the entire building was now completely gone, her soft giggles of sheer elation filling the halls before a peaceful silence ensued the moment the door to her room was closed shut.

Like the moon and stars that reside in the night skies, this was where she truly belongs — right in the arms of her dearly beloved; her most cherished abode.

[hollowwrites]

❤️ Garreth Masterlist ❤️

✨ Main Masterlist ✨

🔞 Garreth Headcanons 🔞 - Headcanons for everyone’s favourite Weasley

❤️

(Chronological Order check me out all fancy)

To Hogsmeade - Rewrite of the Hogsmeade quest

The Gardener and the Alchemist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

- Garreth being a beautiful dumbass, but he’s our beautiful dumbass!! Very cute, hopefully spicy at some point!

❤️

(Separate Garreth stuff that isn’t really canon to my other stuff)

What do you Propose? - Garreth proposal fluff

❤️

Little reference for my Garr

[bohobooks]

Detention- (Garreth x Sharp!reader)

Description: As the daughter of ex-auror and current potions professor Aesop Sharp, Y/n has lived a pretty straight edged life. Well, that is she did, before she met a certain Weasley who gave her a taste of mischief. This time, though they didn't move fast enough and have to deal with the consequences.

Warnings: slight spice, swearing.

✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷

"Shit, run!" Garreth sprung from our vantage point in the dark corridor where we had set up to watch our firework display light up the Great Hall. My attention came back to the present, where we were sprinting past the house hourglasses and out the doors heading quickly to the doors leading outside. 

"A few feet, just a few more feet-" Garreth huffed under his breath as we neared the wooden doors. 

I pull out my wand and aim for the doors, intending to have them open by the time we reach them, "Accio!" 

A few students dodge out of our path as we near the door. Just as it was in reach, another voice rang out through the hall, sending the few remaining students skittering down the corridors.

"Colloportus!" The doors slam shut violently just as we reach them, causing Garreth to stop abruptly. Momentum sent me striking into his back, sending us both to the floor. My wand rolls to the side, and I scurry on my hands and knees to grab it when it flies out of my grasp. 

My eyes follow it, knowing who I was about to see. Surely enough, as Garreth and I sat there- his hand still holding my wrist- none other than Professor Weasley and my father approach. My eyes find father's first, searching them for his reaction. Instantly, I wish I wouldn't have. He was pissed.

Garreths hand slides down from my wrist to find my hand and squeeze tightly as Professor Weasley begins to speak, "One would think," her tone was as sharp as my fathers gaze, "That having family members in the schools faculty would make certain students behave."

My father brought a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I don't know what to do with the two of you. Detention for the rest of the month."

"Dad! That's unfair! It was just fireworks!" I whine. Surely a month of detention was a bit overkill for just a few fireworks, right?

"Your fireworks," Professor Weasley began, "Set Duncan Hobhouse's robes alight."

Beside me, Garreth chuckles, and I drive my elbow into his side.

"The pair of you are lucky that a classmate nearby was quick thinking enough to put out the flames before they damaged anything other than mere clothing!"

"We couldn't have set Puffskein Dunkien on fire with the fireworks! They were our new invention, specially made for indoor use! If they could catch people on fire I'd be an inferi by now!"

"I don't want to hear it!" Professor Weasley barked, "To your dorms, both of you! And I expect to see you bright and early for detention tomorrow!"

◇◇◇◇◇◆◇◇◇◆◇◇◇◇◆◇◇◇◇◆◇◇◇◇

The morning sun stained the sky vivid colors that in any other circumstances I'd find beautiful. I trudged down the winding path of the hill to the unused cottage at the edge of the property where Professor Weasley's owl had instructed me to be.

It was a quaint little thing, definitely needing some love, but I could see wonderful memories being made here in the future. The door opens as I approach, the crunch of frost underneath my boots alerting to my presence, as my father steps out. Behind him, Garreth follows quietly.

"Good morning, darling." Dads voice hinted that he was still angry, but the fact he was referring to me as anything but a troubled student was a good sign, "Today, you will be cleaning this hut by hand. No magic use, understood?"

"Yes, sir." I mumbled.

"Very good. A house elf will bring you your meals, and I don't want to see you at the castle until sunset." I watched as he began up the hill, rolling my eyes.

I wait until father is out of earshot, turning to Garreth, "We both agree that there's no possible way our fireworks set Duncan on fire, right?"

Garreth laughed, turning to head back into the hut, "Oh, agreed. I have a certain pair of Slytherins looking into that whole thing."

The inside of the hut was an absolute dusty mess, filled with dead bugs and cobwebs. I grab a broom and prop open the door so the dirt can escape.

"Sebastian and Ominis?" I ask, disbelieving, "How on earth did you manage to talk them into it?"

Garreth grabbed the other broom, sweeping along side me, "Oh, when it comes to Puffskein Dunkien, Gaunt doesn't need convincing at all."

I chuckle, thinking about all of the times I've heard Ominis giving Duncan grief in the hall. "I just wonder what he really did to get set on fire? Did that little rat really just stick his sleeve into a candle flame?"

Garreth snorted, "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised."

A few quiet moments passed before garreth threw his broom to the ground, "This is impossible! We aren't even making a dent!"

The sudden commotion startles me, causing me to inhale the dust cloud Garreth had stirred up. In a fit of coughing, I stumble my way out of the cottage. Once my lungs deemed the air clean enough, I fell to my butt in the damp dew-ridden grass, attempting to gulp in air.

Garreth rushed out and kneeled infront of me, "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

Vision diluted with tears, my eyes find Garreths face. His pale skin was reddened so much he reminded me of a tomato. A laugh bubbled up through the gasps, and next thing I know the reason I can breath is laughter.

Garreth, instead of looking on like I was insane, began laughing along side me. Together we sat and laughed, and when the laughter died down Garreth spoke between attempts to catch his breath, "Why are you even laughing?"

I reach forward and trace a line along his cheek, "Has anyone ever told you you turn red when you're worried?"

The boy scoffs, lightly slapping away my hand and pulls me to my feet, "Once or twice. Although it happens when I'm angry, sad, tired- you name it. It's part of the ginger curse." He wiggled his fingers at me, quickly springing towards me in attempt to tickle me.

I squeal, running into the hut and grabbing my broom for protection. Garreth walks in hands above his head, imitating a monster. He dropped his voice dramatically low "No broom can stop the tickle monster."

I laugh as he gets closer, weilding the broom infront of me, "Please, no! I'll clean this entire place by myself if you just swear not to-"

Garreth lunges, knocking the broom out of my hands and begins to tickle my stomach. Uncontrollable laughter leaves my lips as I attempt to back out of his grasp, until my back hits the table. Stuck leaning against the wooden piece of furniture, I just keep laughing and attempting to push the redhead away.

His hands stop moving, and I open my eyes to see his face only a few inches from mine suddenly looking very serious. His eyes bore into mine, and I can tell he is thinking. Debating.

Not moving he begins to speak carefully, as if he was afraid the words that left his lips would scare me away. "Only you," his voice was low and deep, "Could make this dreadful task enjoyable."

His eyes flicked down to my lips, his tongue running over his bottom lip briefly before he bites it. He really appears to be holding something back, his eyes full of conflict. His face begins to turn red, small blotches traveling down his neck and onto his chest.

Despite the tension in the moment, I begin to giggle, "Gare, you're turning red again."

My laughter breaks something in him, letting loose that bit of resolve he had. He let's out a breathy laugh, "Fuck it."

Suddenly, his lips are on mine. The kiss is rough- needy, as if he had been holding himself back from this for ages. His hands, still on my waist drop to my hips and lift me up so I'm perched on the edge of the table. He moves his body in between my legs, pulling me closer to him.

My hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangled in the red locks. When I pull, he let's out a small noise, a moan, really. He takes that moment to decide to pull his lips from mine, leaving us still so close that I could feel his ragged breath heave his chest into mine.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this here, love." Garreth laughed looking down at me, "If we continue, I won't be able to stop, and I really don't want your dad to walk in on that."

"They'd never leave us alone again," I laugh, "I'm pretty sure the only reason they leave us alone together is because they think we are only friends."

Garreth smiled down at me, "I take it that means we're not just friend?"

I can only scoff, pulling him close, "Not after that, no."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BONUS: The Slytherin Boy's and the Investgation of the Flaming Hobhouse.

"Shush, I can hear him and his friends coming." Ominis crouched behind the potted plant in one of the many sitting areas in the Dark Arts Tower. To anyone else, the two boys hiding in the corner would appear to be nothing more than a shimmer- a minor displacement of light.

"He has friends?

"Shush, Sebastian."

"It was the perfect opportunity," Duncan's obnoxious voice rang loudly down the hallway, causing the hair on the back of Ominis's neck to raise. Oh man, did he really hate this git. "The second the fireworks began I knew I had the perfect opportunity to not only get those freaks in trouble, but even get a brand new robe out of it."

Sebastian went to stand, but Ominis stopped him. He gestured to the magical recorder in his hand, and Sebastian slowly lowered back down.

Meanwhile, Duncan continued talking, "All I had to do was hold my sleeve over one of the candles they have on the table. I knew they could afford buying me a new robe. I mean they're family of Professors here."

Ominis stood up, dropping the disillusionment charm. Sebastian quickly following suit.

"Well Ominis, I think that's all we need." Sebastian spoke comically loud, sure to catch Duncan's attention.

"I agree Sebastian," Ominis brushed off his robe, "Gee, this recorder sure is nifty. I say we go show Professor Sharp. I think he'd love it."

Duncan's bravado dropped, and he began to approach the pair of Slytherins, "Gaunt, Sallow. Please don't. Please, I'll do anything."

Ominis pointed his wand at Duncan, beginning to walk backwards, "Come any closer, Hobhouse, and I'll melt your eyebrows off. Now, if you excuse us. We are off to see a Professor."

Sebastian turned to face Duncan as Ominis began to stride away. The boy pretended to search his pockets, then pulled out his middle finger, mouthing a proud, "Fuck you."

[polarisgreenley]

Cactus

Garreth Weasley x Artemis Loreley (MC)

Summary: The last Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match ended, and now the after-party is on in the Gryffindor Tower.

Floriography for Cactus (Cactacae): Ardent Love. Burning with Love. Lust.

This was for the March NSFW prompt for the discord server writing event: "Getting (Un)Lucky Tonight". No cactus was harmed in this story whatsoever.

Tags: NSFW, Hogwarts 7th year, Gryffindor-Slytherin Relationship, hand jobs, plot what plot, drapery lions laughing at misery, Garreth POV Limited, inappropriate licking of green apple liqueur

Artemis is my MC in my long fic "A Bouquet of New Beginnings," but this is separate and not related to said story.

[AO3]//Word count: 2.2k

An echo of the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch after-party climbed the spiral staircase.  A right hubbub of a - mostly - friendly rivalry, where drinks, song, and at least one miniature firework from Zonko’s had been unleashed. Garreth would usually be, and had been, in the heart of it – behind the makeshift counter handing out concoctions with his brewing partner.

“Are you sure it was fine for both of us to leave?” Artemis asked softly as she followed.

He would’ve sworn he’d climbed up the tower by himself if he wasn’t holding said brewing partner’s small, chilled hand tightly within his, their fingers interlaced like perfect puzzle pieces. The swish of her floor length green skirt drowned her soft treads.

“Don’t worry Snow,” said Garreth cheerfully, “We left plenty of stock for Lee and Sebastian to distribute while we grab more.”

“If they don’t drink it first.”

“They won’t.”

He made sure of that.

“Oh?”

She squeezed his hand; he squeezed back.

“Oh,” repeated Garreth.

The familiar door swung open and shut as the red and gold regalia revealed themselves, and Garreth regrettably let go of Artemis’ hand as he went straight toward his bed. The miniature cactus that she gifted him stood proudly on his bedside stand, and he gave the little guy a ghostly brush before he crouched to the floorboards. He snuck a glance toward her as he shovelled out a few crates worth of conspicuously brewed beverages. She was the lone presence of emerald green and silver; her forest green eyes were alight with curiosity as they travelled along the walls, the drapery, the ceiling, the desks, and now, down to him.

Their gazes met. She smiled; her cheeks tinted pink.

His stomach fluttered with butterflies just as intense as ever. He could die happy right then and there.

But instead of dying crouched on the floor like a sappy fool, Garreth stood as he pulled out an unlabelled bottle as he took one, two, three steps to close the distance. The top of her head barely reached his chin, her snow-white hair stood out brilliantly against the reddish-brown brick wall and the way her eyes lifted slowly to meet his made him question if they really needed to go back.

“Here, my newest brew,” said Garreth as he popped the bottle open.

“Oh, this smells lovely.” Artemis sniffed lightly. “Green apples?”

“Mhm. Go on, have a sip.”

She took the cool bottle, and her fingertips ghosted his knuckles in a subtle caress. His heart buzzed. Damned temptress.

“The first test?”

“Yep,” said Garreth.

Nope. He drank every disgusting version he managed to produce before landing on this one.

“You’re an awful liar, Garreth.”

The lamplight danced along her eyes; they crinkled softly around the edges.

He smiled like an idiot. “How do you know?”

She chuckled, soft and melodious.

“My lips are buttoned,” said Artemis as she brought the bottle to her lips and took a slow drink.

Her throat softly bobbed with a barely audible gulp. He could just see the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her lips – the same lips that could emit the most cutthroat of insults and words as sweet as molasses – as it licked off undoubtedly any remnants of the drink.

He swallowed for entirely different reasons that had his blood rushing southward.

“Tangy. I like the sugar granules,” commented Artemis as she gave the bottle back to him. “Not too sweet.”

Of course it wasn’t; he knew her tastes.

“Glad you like it. Want more?”

“Sure,” agreed Artemis warmly, “but after you have some.”

“Suit yourself,” said Garreth.

He didn’t move from his spot - nor did she - as they stood about a half-arm’s length apart and he brought the bottle to his own lips. He felt her gaze as he tipped the bottle excruciatingly slow, the green apple liqueur passed his lips in a tangy, light burn that filled his mouth. Particularly, she seemed focused along his neck, right where his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed once.

A thought – a brilliant, genius thought – crossed his mind.

He took another swig and watched as his favourite girl’s eyes moved with the bottle as the glass touched the nearest dresser. There was a moment, a delicious moment, where her eyes widened ever slightly just before his uplifted lips met hers. The surprised hum from her throat as her lips slightly parted was far more delectable than the drink, and yet it wouldn’t do for him to keep this drink to himself.

Fingers tangled into her long, soft snow-white hair, gently pressing against her as he took hold of her hand, his slightly dry, burning fingers intertwined with her smooth, cool ones. One step, two step, and his beloved was pressed softly against the reddish-brown wall as he coaxed her mouth to open with a small, teasing swipe of his own tongue. The green apple liqueur spilled a thin line along her chin and undoubtedly down the smooth column of her neck as he pressed forward, any distance between them criminally negligent.

Her other hand slipped behind his back. What he would give to have her always holding him like this, desperately clinging to him like this.

Even when he heard her swallow, Garreth didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Not when the little gasps that escaped her lips as he tugged her hair gently sounded better than any heavenly choir. Not when their lips parted, a single strand of silvery saliva connected them before he kissed the corner of her lip, his mouth slowly travelling down along the path of green apple and sugar granules. Not when she whimpered just right as his tongue licked its way to the hollow of her throat, and a gentle nip accompanied by his fingers combing languidly through her locks.

“The party –”

“– Can wait. Can’t let anyone see you like this,” murmured Garreth.

The music below wandered through the bottom crack of the door louder, but he couldn’t care less. His body burned for them both, his hands the device in which he delivered reverence upon her. Reticent to let go of the hand that gave and helped students, teachers, and the rest of the wizarding world, his grip tightened as he pressed against her, the linen they wore on their very persons seemed a travesty. Even his own bed, perhaps not a few feet away, was too far.

“Garreth.”

She would see him unravel with just the breathy whisper of his name as his lips grazed back up to the sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

“Hm?”

His fingers moved from her hair as he made the minimum requirement of room to slip his hand along the middle of her abdomen, her chest, and finally reached her blouse buttons.

One. Two. Three.

Slowly her luscious skin appeared before him, another canvas to map as his tongue glided down. He groaned as he created friction between the two, his own need burning hot as he tugged the blouse from her waistband.

“Garreth–” Artemis started, her voice breathy as her free hand coaxed his shirt hem out.

“– We’ll make it quick,” he whispered against her ear before he gave a little nip.

Her warm breath tickled the shell of his ear as she nodded minutely. His hand moved to squeeze her bum.

“Troublemaker,” murmured Artemis as her hand snuck in, her cool fingertips sent a shiver up his spine as they slowly slid under his waistband, taking an excruciatingly long time to move from the small of his back to his hip.

“You love it.”

Garreth fully moved his hand and gently lifted Artemis’ leg to wrap around his waist. Her hand popped the buttons of his trousers, and bless this woman as she freed him from his own prison.

“Always,” purred Artemis as her thumb swiped at his head, already leaking with a clear bead.

“Merlin Snow,” Garreth gasped out as his hand touched the pantyhose at her ankles. “How attached are you to these?

“Not at all.”

Merlin be damned this minx.

A low growl emitted as he pulled out his wand, and wordlessly vanished the offending cloth and her undergarments for good measure. “Good.”

Her leg was softer than any silk in his grip, of which he held so tight they’d leave marks. It kept him from utterly shattering as the snow-haired beauty circled his head with her thumb. She uttered a charm under her breath, and from her palm came the sensations of incredibly warm liquid that she spread down his shaft. His other hand let go of Artemis’ against the wall in favour of reaching within her skirt toward the apex of her thighs. Her now free hand shot out toward the back of his head, her fingers now entangled with his red locks as she beckoned him back into a kiss.

Incredibly hot and wet – so above, and so below.

“Damn,” he moaned as his finger sunk into her depths, and he swallowed her moan as his tongue tangled with hers.

His hips canted as her small hand pumped his cock in the rhythm he loved, and he returned the favour as he hooked his finger inside as he slid another. The hand around his cock stuttered even as the grip in his hair tightened, her back arched as her chest pressed against his. The haze that clouded his mind lightened ever so slightly even as he burned the sight of Artemis flushed in its place.

Their gasps mixed with the beautiful obscene sounds as his fingers work her open quickly in time with the music that flowed louder from under the door. Warmth pooled within him as he panted, her hand being entirely sinful as it alternated giving his head and his shaft attention. He slipped another in and flicked up inside; her head tilted back as she gasped, offering her neck has her fingers grasped tighter in his hair.

Her wrist twisted around his cock and he groaned as he sucked something delicious at the crux of her neck. The scent of her perfume mingled with the green apple liqueur peppered with sex in the air.

Delicious. Absolutely perfect.

“I- I’m ready,” said Artemis  

Artemis’ skin bore a dark purple bruise perfectly shape where Garreth’s mouth had been; her leg hooked around the small of his back as his hand readjusted the grip. She whimpered as he kissed her temple when his fingers left the comforts of her wet folds; her skirt entirely bunched, the front of his shirt entirely a mess.

Garreth sucked off each of his fingers, the familiar taste of her on his tongue. Her forest green eyes were blow, her normally well-kept hair and attire utterly dishevelled. Her leg insisted he come closer – he obliged as fabric crumpled peripherally.

“Good girl,” he whispered against her lips as he pushed up the skirt further, readjusting his grip on her soft thigh. Pants escaped his lips as he slid his cock lightly against her wet folds, coating himself with her as her hand, that’d been so wonderfully wrapped around his cock moments ago, slipped under his shirt.

Her chest heaved in tandem with his pounding heart. Her nails ghosted his back as he lined himself to her entrance. Everything felt hot and warm and absolutely -

“Perfect,” murmured Garreth as he looked into her eyes.

They softened; he swore he saw the Slieve Guillion Forest within.

The door slammed open as the music roared.

Garreth jolted up from his waist, gasping for air as his mind scrambled. Linen bedding was under his sweaty palms as his heart beat loudly against his chest. A clear tent was pitched under the sheets as his brain caught up that no, he was not deliciously pressed against the love of his life on the wall. He was in his bed with all the deep red drapes shut, decorated with golden lions that laughed at his misery.

He was so close, he could practically feel her breath against his ear, her warmth around his fingers, her soft leg wrapped around his waist, his head lined up and -

“Garreth, you up?” Leander’s voice carried from beyond the drapery.

Garreth seriously considered violence for three seconds. He let out a grumbled noise; his cock was painfully, painfully aware it was not where it was supposed to be.

Could Leander not have waited for five bloody seconds to barge in?  

“Well hurry up. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match is going to start up in an hour, and I am not going to miss the good seats for the finals!” Leander called from beyond the proverbial veil as the cheer music bellowed from the Common Room and spilled in through the opened door.

The match. The after-party.

“The after-party’s still on, yeah?” He managed to squeeze out.

“Well, I hope so! You and Artemis are our bartenders after all.”

The concoctions were under his floorboard. He still had the green apple liqueur.

His cock twitched at the thought of what followed.

“Brilliant. Lee?”

“Yeah?” Leander’s voice came from near the other redhead’s bed. “Hurry it up, will you?”

“Sure.” He’d need less than a minute, really, once Leander stepped outside. “You mind doing bar duty tonight for a bit?”

“Yeah that’s fine.”

Brilliant.

[anto-pops]

Hushed Whispers - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: After working Sebastian into a frenzy before class, he refuses to acquiesce to your half-measures and steals you away to finish what you started.

Alternatively summarized as you and Sebastian having frantic, semi-public sex in an empty classroom.

Based on a request I received for “impatient broom cupboard shenanigans” except they aren’t in a broom cupboard, but SEMANTICS.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, rough sex

Full fic can be found here on Ao3!

You should have known you were playing with fire the second you rolled out of bed this morning. 

It had all started with a few light touches to motivate Sebastian into waking up. Nowadays he was all too content to tug the covers over his head and sleep through whatever class he was supposed to attend, so you’d taken the liberty of… enticing him, into turning his brain on. 

With your hands. On his cock. 

Maybe it was a little cruel in hindsight, but you hadn’t counted on Ominis drawing the curtains around the bed at the same time Sebastian was really getting into the feeling of you stroking him. Blue balled and embarrassed, you’d walked to breakfast with the two Slytherins in a tense silence. Sebastian was rigid, his lips pressed in a hard line as he doubled his efforts not to shift his hips too much while he walked, lest he come in his trousers from the friction. 

Now seated inside the Great Hall, Sebastian looked deep in thought before he asked, “Do you think Professor Weasley will let me retake the exam tomorrow if I skip today?” The fork in his ironclad grip seemed to be on the verge of bending in half. 

Ominis scowled at his plate, having expected him to say something like this. He had known exactly where Sebastian’s one-track mind would steer him after interrupting you both this morning. “Not without cause, and your boner isn’t a valid enough reason to miss an exam day.” 

There was no helping it– you snorted into your hot chocolate. Ominis continued to dissect his food in favor of entertaining his friend’s lust-fueled thoughts, and as you brought the rim of your cup to your lips, your eyes connected with Sebastian’s dark, suggestive gaze. 

Merlin’s beard. You shouldn’t have laughed. 

“We’ll meet you in class, Ominis.” Sebastian declared, smacking his fork down on the table and hauling you to your feet by the fabric of your robes. 

You hastily set down your drink before it could slosh all over the table. “We? Wait, what–” 

“Are you serious?” Ominis groused, and his brows slammed down atop those narrowed, milky blue eyes. “I am not covering for you this time. You can take the detention you’ll get in stride.” 

“Don’t bother, we’ll be there.” With that the brunet spun on his heel, dragging you with him as he strode out of the Great Hall and led you down a deserted corridor near the Courtyard. You were barely walking, completely at Sebastian’s mercy as he practically carried you by the scruff of your clothes to wherever he wanted to take you. Your feet caught on a few loose stones on the way, but your boyfriend simply tugged you upright before you had the chance to stumble. 

“Sebastian– wait, what the hell are you thinking?” 

He abruptly dipped to the right, pulling you into an empty classroom and throwing you against the wall as the door clicked shut beside you. “I’m thinking you should finish what you started this morning, darling.”

Before you could respond, Sebastian had captured your lips in a brutal kiss, biting and licking with an intensity that left you dizzy in his strong arms. You melted as he fucked his tongue into your mouth, clinging tighter to his shoulders as he brought one of his hands up to begin undoing the buttons on your blouse. The other delved lower, tracing up the burning skin of your leg and bunching the material of your skirt into a heap below your navel. When his fingers slipped under the cotton of your underwear, he swiped a digit through your wet folds, and you gasped into his mouth, garnering a chuckle from him. 

He teased around the bundle of nerves you were both desperate and loathing for him to touch. There wasn’t a lot of time before the two of you needed to be in your seats with your quills and parchment out, ready to take your Transfiguration exam. Sebastian might not care about his attendance, but you didn’t want to go out of your way to invoke the wrath of Professor Weasley. 

As though he could read your thoughts, Sebastian broke away from the kiss to mouth wetly down the column of your neck. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” he bit at your pulse gently, making you sigh and tip your head back against the wall. “I’ll be so good to you, but if I don’t have you now I’ll fail that fucking exam regardless of whether or not I’m there for it.” 

“F-Fuck, Sebastian,” you whispered into the empty air, and he rewarded you by roughly pressing circles around your clit, pinning you more firmly between his body and the wall so he could focus solely on shattering your composure. “We could be back at the dorms in like, two minutes.” 

He pulled away from your love-bitten neck to stare at you fixedly with those lust-dark eyes, “Or we could be fucking in two minutes.”

Touché. 

You finally relented, throwing caution to the wind as you wound your arms around Sebastian’s neck and crushed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. To hell with it, you thought. You’d been just as disappointed leaving things the way you did this morning, even if seeing Sebastian so worked up was an added bonus to the whole thing. He met you halfway, leaning into you further to completely overwhelm your senses until all you could taste, hear, smell, and feel was him. Sebastian’s fingers resumed their ministrations against your core, drawing small twitches and breathy moans from you as he reduced you to a mewling pile of limbs. The steady roll of his groin against your thigh had you eagerly writhing back on his hand, hungry for more than just his teasing touch. 

When Sebastian finally thrust a slender finger inside of you, he practically lifted you onto your toes with the vigor he exhibited. The feeling had you groaning into his mouth, your nails digging painfully into the bare skin of his neck, and the sting had his cock twitching enthusiastically in his pants. 

“Hah,” he chuckled down at you, secretly losing his fucking mind at how perfect you looked trapped between his flushed chest and the wall. Your eyes were pinched shut with obvious desire as he stroked inside your pulsing heat with his finger, and when he went to add a second, you couldn’t help but shamelessly buck against him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re enjoying this a bit more than you let on.” 

He felt your nails scrape up the nape of his neck before you grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerking his head forcefully to the side, and he swore your penetrating gaze bore into his very soul. “You started it.” 

All of his brain functions ceased when he felt you bite down on his pulse, working an angry bruise of your own into his freckled skin with a fervor that nearly had him coming in his trousers then and there. “Fuck, darling–” 

“Hurry up and fuck me already,” you kissed at the blossoming hicky once, twice, then began trailing one of your hands down to the leather of Sebastian’s belt. Your fingers had barely grazed the metal buckle before he was ripping his fingers out of your cunt to grip you by your hips, lifting you up easily so he could carry you to a desk a few feet away. 

In an instant Sebastian deposited you there and spun you around, aggressively yanking your skirt and undergarments down to your knees in one quick motion. As soon as you were exposed to him, he was pushing your chest into the cool wood, trusting you to lay still for him as he hastily undid his belt and shucked the material down some to free his painfully hard cock. Peering at him over your shoulder, you watched hungrily as Sebastian’s swollen member sprung free from his trousers, and you licked your lips when your eyes caught sight of the bead of pre-cum leaking from the head. 

Sebastian leaned over you then, his delicious weight sandwiching you against the desk, and he took a brief moment to relish in the feeling of his cock rubbing between the shapely curve of your ass. A small, needy sound slipped from your clenched teeth at the sensation, and Sebastian’s fingers wound their way in your hair to jerk your head back to meet him. At the same time he pulled your head towards him, he slammed his hips forward, sheathing himself in you so fast and so abruptly that your spine rounded and you were pressing back against him with everything in you. 

“Fuck– mmph–” His other hand flew up to your mouth, muffling your cries of delight as he set a brutal pace. 

“You have to be quiet,” Sebastian growled the demand in your ear, and the gravelly tone to his voice made you whimper. “Or are you trying to get us caught, hm? Do you want everyone outside to hear you begging for my cock, screaming my name for more?” 

He punctuated the question with a particularly forceful thrust, and the action had you jolting against the desk, the pain in your hip bones quickly blurring into tingling pleasure. Unable to form words around his hand, you could only moan feebly in response. Your nails dug fitfully into the wood under you as you rutted back with the slightest give you were allowed, desperate for more friction– more of anything.

Sebastian released his hold on your hair to rub firm, titillating circles against your clit, and the sudden attention left you breathless for all of two seconds before you wailed his name from behind his hand, the muffled sound doing more for Sebastian than he cared to admit. He knew you couldn’t keep quiet if you tried. Even if he hadn’t been chasing the sounds out of you, your voice never failed to make an appearance when his cock was making quick work of you. 

He gave up on muffling your voice then, letting his hand trail down your throat to grip you and pull you back on to his cock with precision that left your legs boneless. Sebastian felt you sag underneath him, your pulsing walls warning him of your impending climax. “You want more, darling?” 

Sebastian ground hard into you when you opened your mouth, drawing a high pitched whine from your kiss-swollen lips instead of your shaky confirmation that yes– you wanted more– but he already knew that, and he gave you a few quick, rough thrusts to appease the growing fire in your gut. 

“Sebastian, fuck–” you gasped, clawing helplessly at the hard surface beneath you. “Please, please, like that like that–” 

He grinned into the crook of your shoulder. Just a moment longer– your frantic little noises were igniting a storm in his veins. “Like this?” He rolled his hips slowly into you, his thrusts deep but so far from enough. You couldn’t fight your disappointed sigh as you shook your head, craning your neck to the side to peer at him through the corner of your eye. “Or like this,” Sebastian whispered, pulling out nearly all the way before ramming his cock into you once, twice, and then he was seeing stars from how suddenly you tightened around him. 

“Yes! Oh fuck– please, yes–” Throwing your head back against Sebastian’s shoulder, you arched impossibly further into his hold, letting him drag your body back onto his shaft however he pleased because fuck– you didn’t even need to say anything. He was fucking you so rough and so perfect, it took everything in you not to scream his name loud enough to alert the entire school to your escapades, but even if you did, you doubted you would give a shit at this point. 

When you came, you did so with a hoarse cry of Sebastian’s name, and the feeling of his fingers digging harder into your throat to pull you back onto his cock mercilessly brought you higher than you thought possible. Sebastian continued to rub small, overstimulating circles over your clit as you crumbled apart, causing you to shake and writhe under him. With every faltering thrust, he ground his balls against your ass, stealing his pleasure from you desperately, and when he finally followed after you into white bliss, Sebastian swore the ground fell out from under his feet.

With one final grunt, Sebastian collapsed against your back, mindlessly rutting into you to milk the last bits of cum from his softening cock. He sighed, thoroughly pleased with himself now that his baser urges had been satiated. The tips of his fingers traced small, soothing circles along the skin of your thigh, and you shuddered at the feeling. 

He honestly wasn’t ready to pull out yet, but he knew some part of your recovering brain had to be uncomfortable wedged against the desk. “Sweet Merlin, Darling,” he managed to utter before pushing himself onto his elbows and letting his cock slide out of your familiar warmth. “You alright?” 

“I can’t feel my legs,” you groused, voice slightly muffled since your cheek was pressed against the wood. Sebastian laughed softly and looped his warm hands around your shoulders, standing you upright so he could pull your underwear and skirt back up for you. As he stood to fix his own trousers, the two of you finally got to take a good look at one another, and you both went slack-jawed at the sight. 

Sebastian had a telling, red hickey right above the collar of his shirt. It was too far above his neckline to stand a chance at being hidden, and even if it could have been concealed, vicious welts left from your nails stretched up the expanse of his neck, disappearing into his hair. It looked like one of the cats had gotten ahold of him and emerged victorious. 

In turn, you looked absolutely wrecked. Sebastian considered dimly that he might have gone overboard with assaulting your neck throughout the entire ordeal; between the assortment of love-bites that now lined your throat and the finger shaped bruises that curled under your jaw, he imagined your only saving grace from prying eyes would be a giant scarf. 

Unfortunately, there was no time to run to your dorms to grab extra clothing. The bell tolled then, signaling the start of the school day, and you realized with thinly veiled horror that you only had five minutes to get to Transfiguration. 

“Shit, we have to go,” you leapt off the desk in a flash and nearly collapsed to the floor from how jelly-like your legs were. “Fuck!” 

Sebastian was there steadying you in a heartbeat, his chest swelling with barely contained pride. He’d fucked you so hard you couldn’t even walk properly… he was so going to pass that exam now. “Need a hand?” 

You fixed him with a pointed glare as you hurried to adjust your robes, “Those hands have done more than enough, thank you very much. Besides, you should be worried about yourself– that hickey isn’t going to hide itself.” 

Sebastian mirrored your actions, fixing his trousers and smoothing away any wrinkles in his uniform. Then he smirked, “Why would I want to hide it? I love wearing your brand on me. It’s hotter than hell– so’s that constellation of bruises you’ve got going on.” 

“Don’t remind me,” you muttered, but the words were devoid of any genuine frustration. Mostly, you just wanted to make it to class on time. Combing through the final tangles in your hair, you took Sebastian’s hand in your own, tugging him towards the door. “Come on, if we run we can make it in time.” 

“Can you even run? It didn’t look like your legs were working ten seconds ago.” 

“Merlin’s bloody balls, Sebastian, I will withhold sex from you for a month if we miss this exam.”

The two of you made record time, with Sebastian borderline carrying you to Professor Weasley’s class in a similar fashion to the way he hauled you from the Great Hall earlier. When you both slumped in your seats beside Ominis, he acknowledged the two of you with a grunt. Your eyes scanned the classroom in a bid to make sure that you truly had arrived before your Professor, and when you spotted Imelda and Garreth across the room, your stomach sank. 

The Slytherin Quidditch Captain was snickering demonically behind her sleeve, whispering something to Garreth, whose face turned an impressive shade of red once his eyes flickered to your neck. He gave you a bashful wave when he saw you staring. 

Imelda spun in her seat to grab Natty’s attention next, and before you knew it, you watched as Imelda pointed at her own neck, then jerked her thumb over her shoulder at you. Natty’s gaze found yours in an instant, and her expression transformed into something coy and knowing. She grinned boldly at you, giving you a thumbs up that Sebastian caught sight of, much to your dismay. 

He chuckled next to you, unashamed at the attention, and poked at one of the many marks that now lined the column of your neck. You shivered at the touch, well aware of the painstaking day that now lay ahead of you. Scarf or no scarf, your friends’ knowing stares would haunt you for the foreseeable future. 

As your head tipped forward and thunked against the table, you found yourself honestly wondering if detention would have been preferable to this unique form of torment.

[underthenightskydreamsneverdie]

Tbh I'm horny too and all I can think about if it Seb and MC are 7th years studying for NEWTs in the library/common room with all the other HLCs, MC trying to provoke Seb by giving him looks, purposefully reaching across the table into his space, dropping their quill and bending over, wearing that perfume that drives him crazy, ect, but Seb knows they need to study and pass their test so he resist temptation much to MC's disappointment though unknowingly they unleashed a beast that is being pent up and growing in anger for a couple more days until NEWTs are done.

I love this! I'm not sure if this was a prompt but it inspired me. Thank you 💜

Naughty Escapades and a Wily Temptress

Warnings: 18+, Teasing galore, idiots making a dumb deal, unruly teenagers who can't keep their hands to themselves, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink, semi public sex, there are probably more but I can't think of them, oh overuse of my favorite pet name which I'm sure you guys can guess by now Pairing: Sebastian x f!MC Word count: 2659 Thanks to @sallow-tales for help with the name of this fic! 😘

Three days before the start of their NEWTs, Sebastian, MC, and all their friends sat on the floor in a corner of the library, books and parchment spread out around them. They had spent every moment between classes here for the past two weeks, cramming in as much study time as they possibly could. Tensions were high amongst the group, every member aware their futures were hanging on the outcome of these tests. Sebastian was tense for a different reason, though. MC would not stop teasing him. All week she had been doing little things to rile him up, undoubtedly hoping he would give in to his desires and go back on their deal. It had been a spur of the moment idea after their first day of studying had ended with him pulling her away, pinning her up against a bookcase and kissing her neck, grinding himself against her thigh. After he came down from the high of his orgasm, his cock back in his pants, he looked her in the eyes, a pained look in his face. “We can’t do this again until these damn NEWTs are over with, Princess. We need to focus on studying while we’re here. Let’s make a deal, no more sex until we’ve both taken our final NEWT. I can’t believe I’m the one saying this but I think it’s a good idea. What do you say?” She had nodded and kissed him before walking back to gather her things. 

The teasing had started a few days later and just like today, it took every ounce of self restraint he possessed to resist her. More than once today he had found his hand automatically reaching out to slap her ass when she leaned forward on her knees to reach for notes from someone in their little circle. He had been able to stop himself in time, but he knew she wouldn't stop trying. 

He looked down at her head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the way she was purposefully blowing on his neck. This was the closest she had been to him in days and the smell of her perfume left his head spinning. Letting out a soft whimper as her breath hit him just right, a shiver running down his spine, he set his quill down. “Princess, don’t you think you should be studying something other than my freckles right now? If you need a break, go sit with the girls for a while.” She pulled away, pouting as she stood and weaved her way over to Imelda and Poppy, looking over her shoulder at him before hiking her skirt up over her knees, and dropping to the floor, sitting exactly the way she did when kneeling in front of him. Flashes of her lips around his cock, her pretty eyes staring up at him, played in his mind and he shifted around, adjusting himself. 

She’s going to be the death of me. 

An hour later she returned, picking up her books, bending over right in front of him giving him a perfect view of her breasts. Before he could help it a small groan left his lips and she smirked. As she sank to the floor, he reached for her waist pulling her into his lap. The little gasp she let out stoked the fire of resolve in him. He leaned in close, brushing her loose hair off her ear before pressing a small kiss to it. “You think it’s funny, teasing me like this, Princess? You think it’s going to get you what you want?” He gripped her jaw, turning her head to face him. “I assure you it won’t. Not yet.” He lifted her off him, roughly setting her down next to him once again. He took a deep breath, shaking his head to clear it of the already fading feeling of her body on his. He longed for her more than he could express, but he was determined to see this through. 

Okay, you can do this, Sebastian. It’s only another week. Seven days. Just seven more days. 

——————— 

The morning after his final NEWT was over, Sebastian sought her out like a heat-seeking missile, ready to explode. He found her by the edge of the lake with Poppy, Natty, and Imelda, splayed out in the grass, laughing as the sun danced on their faces. He wasted no time, getting her attention with a loud shout of her name, his lips curling into a slight snarl. He knew he probably looked terrifying, out of his mind, racing towards her, his clothes disheveled from running around the castle, but he didn’t care, he was desperate to have her. Dropping to his knees, he sank down between her legs, just barely resisting the urge to throw one over his shoulder right then and there, smiling as he caught a glimpse of her bare pussy, thanking Merlin he’d finally convinced her to stop wearing panties. “I think you owe me something, love, and I’m here to collect.” Around him the other girls gasped and giggled, and he looked up, smiling at them. “Hello, ladies, having a nice day are we?” Not waiting for an answer he leaned over MC and crushed his lips onto hers, groaning as she wrapped her legs around him and deepened their kiss, her hands tangling in his hair and grabbing at his shirt. When she finally released him, a smirk on her face, his resolve to hold out for privacy broke. “Fuck, Princess, I will take you right here in front of your friends if you don’t stop teasing me.” When her grip on his shirt didn't loosen he made a show of reaching for his pants, getting the top button undone before she stopped him. 

“Not here, Sebastian!” She pushed him off her, shaking her head as he roughly pulled her to her feet, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder before turning around and carrying her towards the castle. He felt her wave to her friends, chuckling as they made exaggerated ohs and small whistles, Imelda even shouting “Get it babe!” before they broke into loud laughter again. 

Oh, don't worry she’s going to.  

He carried her to the closest classroom, now empty for the rest of the term, setting her down on the teachers desk before he closed the door. “Get your skirt off, MC, unless you want me to rip it off you.” Standing by the door, he watched as she eagerly slid the fabric over her hips, shifting to push it past her butt, loving the sound as it finally fell in a heap to the floor. Letting out a soft groan, he slipped off his robe. “Spread your legs, Princess, touch yourself for me.” Feeling his heart race as she did, soft moans reaching him as she circled her clit, he forced himself to stay where he was, to enjoy the show she was putting on for him. His cock twitched endlessly as she stuck two fingers into her mouth, sloppily running her tongue over them before bringing them down to her core, slipping them into herself with a loud sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she found the rhythm she wanted. Rubbing his palm over his clothed cock a few times, he closed the distance between them, quickly undoing the rest of his buttons, freeing his cock from its confines. One hand wrapping around himself, stroking slowly, the other hand gripped her jaw pulling her lips to his, greedily forcing them open to admit his tongue. 

When the dizziness from loss of oxygen forced him to break away, he gripped her wrist stilling her movements, gently pulling her fingers out of her core. Once again dropping to his knees in front of her, he took them into his mouth, sucking them clean before wrapping his arms around her legs, pulling her closer to the edge of the desk. Kissing at her thighs, he looked up at her. “Have you missed me, Princess? I sure as hell have missed you.” Flattening his tongue he lapped at her folds, groaning against her as her hands found their way into his hair and she tugged at the soft brown strands. 

“God, yes! I’ve missed you so much, Sebastian…oh that feels so good.”

He swirled his tongue around her clit, gently sucking at it as he pushed a finger into her, pumping his hand quickly. “Fuck, I want to make you cum on my tongue, baby, but we don’t have time for that right now. Someone is bound to hear the beautiful sounds you make for me.” She bucked her hips under him, her strong grip holding his head in place as her thighs closed around him. “Okay, I get the hint, a few more minutes of tasting your delicious pussy it is.” He chuckled as her legs spread open again, returning to his task with renewed enthusiasm. He slurped at her folds, moved his head every which way, used every tick he had to make the minutes count. Looking up at her as he caught his breath, admiring the beauty in the expressions he could get her to make, he heard shouting outside the classroom. They froze as the sound grew louder, accompanied by hurried footsteps, relaxing as whoever it was ran by, the sounds dissipating as they moved further away. The refreshed reality of their situation and realization they could be caught at any moment spurred Sebastian into action. “Fuck, baby that was close, we can’t wait any longer.” He stood up, giving her a quick kiss, sighing as she licked her juices off his lips, taking her hands and gently pulling her off the desk. “Turn around and bend over, I’m going to take you fast and hard, just the way you like.” Caressing the soft skin of her butt as she bent over, he lined up with her slit, quickly pushing into her in one swift motion. Thrusting into her, he groaned at her velvety softness, her walls already twitching around him as he set a quick pace, hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. As the sweat built on his forehead, their sounds of pleasure drowned out by the slaps of his thighs against hers, he studied her face. Her cheek pressed against the cool surface under her, mouth open letting her soft whimpers escape, her eyes shut tight in bliss. Reaching down he lifted her leg onto the desk, desperate to be deeper inside her, and he hit the deepest part of her, making her groan and clutch uselessly at the smooth wood surface of the desk. “Damn, you look so beautiful right now, MC. I love that you let me see you this way, powerless and falling apart around me. You never look so breathtaking to me, Princess. Okay, maybe when you use Ancient Magic, but that’s different. Then I’m the powerless one falling apart for you.” 

She giggled softly, “Good to know there’s equal opportunity for you in this relationship, Sebby.” He laughed loudly at her joke while increasing the power behind his thrusting, and they fell into a fit of laughter as the heavy wooden desk beneath her suddenly shifted, the leg grinding against the stone floor as it moved. 

“We’re gonna get caught if we stay here much longer, baby. Are you close?” He looked over his shoulder at the door as if expecting someone to walk through it at that exact moment. 

“Did you mean it, Sebastian, would you actually have done it?” 

He whipped his head around, his look of pleasure giving way to one of confusion. “Done what, love?” 

Her voice was soft as she shyly admitted what was on her mind and he had to slow his thrusts to be sure he heard her. “Would you really have…fucked me in front of my friends?” 

He chuckled, stepping back slightly, pulling her off the desk and up to him. Wrapping his arms around her, pressing her back into his chest, he brushed her hair off her neck, lips leaving wet kisses in his wake. “Yes, I would have. Would you have liked that, Princess? Think you could have gotten over the shock of it, forgotten your embarrassment once my cock was inside you?” Resuming his fast pace thrusting, he kissed her jaw as she threw her head back against his shoulder with a loud moan. “Answer me, Princess.” 

“Yes! Yes, I would have loved it! Fuck, I would have loved it so much!” She brought an arm up to wrap around his neck, fingers clutching at his hair. 

“Mmmhm, that’s my girl, my good girl.” Letting go of her hip he moved his hand down to rub slow circles against her clit. “You never did tell me if you were close to cumming, but it doesn’t matter now. I’m going to make you cum on my cock and then I’m going to fill you with my seed, and you’re going to go back out to your friends, giggling as they ask you about what I did to you. I want you to tell them. Tell them what a good slut you are for me. I want you to blush and stumble over your words as you admit you let me cum inside you and that you love the way it feels dripping out of you as they question you.” He felt her walls clench around him, her orgasm about rock through her. “Fuck, you really like that idea don’t you, Princess? You want all your friends to know how naughty you are…That’s it, cum for me, baby.” Panting in her ear, he fucked her through her orgasm, pressing kisses to every inch of her skin he could reach. Burying himself inside her, resting his head on her shoulder, he let out a deep guttural grunt as he reached his climax, ropes of his seed coating her walls as they gently fluttered around him a few final times. 

Sighing happily he pulled her body as close as he could, letting her relax against him. “Gods, you are incredible, baby. I love you.” Pulling out of her, spinning her around he peppered soft kisses over her face, making her giggle as she returned the sentiment. Bending down he picked up her skirt, shaking out the rumpled fabric, holding her steady as she stepped into it, and slowly pulled it up her legs. Fluffing up her hair, dislodging the flyaways stuck to her damp forehead, and tucking in her shirt, he gave her a deep kiss. Stepping back and tucking his cock back into his pants, he ran his eyes over her as she smiled innocently at him. “There, now you can’t even tell you just spent the last hour being a dirty little slut. Are you ready to get back to your friends, Princess? Ready to tell them all the things I did to you and how much you loved it? Honestly, I’ll be disappointed if they don’t give me nasty looks next time I see them.” Laughing, he took her hand, slowly opening the door, peeking out before pulling her into the corridor. Running through the castle, laughing at her little screams as he pretended to chase her, picking her up and spinning her around when he ‘caught’ her. As they burst through the doors that would lead them to the lake, he slung his arm around her neck, pulling her close. “I can’t believe we only have a little time left here. I’m going to spend every free moment we have left burying my cock in you, Princess. But for now, go spend time with your friends.” He kissed her cheek and gave her ass a small slap, smiling happily as he watched her head for her friends.

[mrsbrookemunson]

No one ever talks about Richard Jackdaw—I get he’s a beheaded ghost, but damn.

But, imagine Sebastian or Garreth finding out that you developed an itty bitty (baby…Potter) crush on said beheaded ghost.

[wedonthaveawhile]

Baby, it's cold outside.

Garreth Weasley x MC (18+ only)

MC finds herself in Garreth's apothecary on Christmas Eve, and testing lust potion is on the agenda.

Tags: NSFW, smut with plot, aged-up characters, oral sex male receiving, lust potion sex, one bed trope, voice kink, praise kink, hurt/comfort, violence and gore.

AO3 // Wordcount: 5.5k

Muttering obscenities under her breath, the agitated witch half-hopped but mostly stumbled over another tomcat feasting on discarded street food. In the wake of Christmas, the tapering pavements of Hogsmeade were crammed with last-minute panic buyers laden with shopping bags.

One obstacle away from losing her footing on the mushy snow, she slipped into a familiar backstreet and pushed open the door to G.W. Potions.

The owner had his chin propped in a knotgrass-stained hand, scribbling in an overflowing notebook. Glancing up as the door chime announced her arrival, he broke into a wide smile.

"You're a lifesaver, you know that?"

“I know, I got your message,” Her eyes scanned the clusters of wax-sealed phials, the timber shelves much less packed than usual. "It sounded urgent, I believe your exact words were 'dire need’?"

"I might have been a little dramatic, I’m just running low on stock," Garreth admitted sheepishly. His mop of copper hair tumbled over his brow and he attempted to tame it with his cleanest hand. "I hope I haven’t disrupted your Christmas Eve? I wasn't sure if Friday was the last of your rounds."

"No, no you're fine. I was heading through to Gladrags for a delivery,” she lied.

She'd exchanged firm words with a few demanding clients who assumed she'd be available over the holidays but couldn't bring herself to impose the 'no-deliveries' rule on Garreth—a choice that felt counterproductive to the crush she'd been attempting to curb for months.

She justified it as a reciprocation of the kindness he’d shown her on previous deliveries—slipping tonics in her satchel whenever she offhandedly grumbled about a sleepless night with an orphaned thestral, or an inflamed laceration from a scrappy kneazle. He’d refuse payment, only asking she mark his map with shrubberies of ingredients she spotted while out raiding poacher camps.

She assumed this raised their relationship from business associates to something that resembled a friendship, and friends could bend the rules for each other without ulterior motives.

"Sorry, this time of year isn’t the best for shedding" she explained, sliding a folded cloth over the countertop. Pulling the edge back, she unveiled a modest bouquet of dense black fur. “Though Remi felt somewhat generous after I bribed him with the promise of coins.”

“So, you’re the middleman between me and a niffler?” His face lit up with one of those heart-stopping smiles, and she prayed that the twist in her gut wasn't reflected on her face. “What’s in it for you?” 

"I figured having you owe me a favour couldn't hurt.”

"Favours are quickly becoming our preferred method of currency." He pivoted towards the excessive collection of potion stations, gathered beneath a 'staff only' sign swinging from a crooked nail. The cauldrons rattled on their supports, releasing densely packed bubbles that burst with trapped steam.

The witch slipped a finger in the weave of her scarf, easing it slightly to allow a breath of fresh air to caress her neck, “Are you rebranding as a sauna?”

"Sorry, I know it's sweltering back here," Garreth's eyes skimmed down the curve of her neck as she discarded the scrap of fabric. Stealthy enough, but stoking her hope nonetheless.

Clearing his throat, he shifted his focus to transfer a trio of niffler hairs into his mortar, along with a few drops of mallowsweet oil. "Any guesses today?"

She inhaled the spiralling vapour rising from the cauldron as he wafted the fog in her direction—there was a botanic scent of mandrake, tangy undertones of mint, and berries.

Wiggenweld? ...No, wrong colour, but it’s definitely medicinal.

“What kind of health tonic needs fur?” She eyed him accusingly. "Is this a trick question again, one of your experiments?"

His eyebrows lifted faintly, and a wave of pride washed over her when appeared impressed with her deduction. "I’ve sold out, and the snowstorm wiped out most of the dittany. I'm trying to brew a healing potion without it. Hence the..." He motioned toward the array of vessels stacked on his workstation, covered in a thick layer of curdled gunge. "I've almost cracked it... I'm pretty sure."

"It's interesting that healing potions are so in demand when everyone's spending extended time with their families."

"If everyone's relatives are like mine, I’d say it makes sense." Garreth rolled up his garish crimson sleeves to cool down, inadvertently warming her up with his toned forearms. He was the only wizard in a hundred-mile radius who could wear such a hideous Christmas jumper and still manage to attract several double-takes from captivated passersby. "When I dominate my niece at Pictionary, I always end up with a black eye."

"How old is your niece?"

"Three."

He gnawed on the inside of his lip, restraining a grin the way he typically did when having made her laugh. “What about your family, will you need medical assistance over Christmas?"

The herbology cabinet groaned in protest as the pair leaned against it, "The odds are high, but only because I’m spending my Christmas with a teenage hippogriff. Someone's got to stay at the sanctuary, and I drew the short straw this year”.

"Well, aside from a few hours at my folks tomorrow, I'll be here restocking. I won't be open to the public, but if... you know, if you need anything..."

His eyes lifted to meet hers, and tension coiled in her gut, shooting south at the thought of being alone with him in the locked store.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Yeah... of course," Garreth severed the eye contact, redirecting his attention to pick at the corroded hinges of the cabinet. "Sirona’s open over the holidays too."

“Oh... is she?”

He dove into a thorough breakdown of the Three Broomsticks festive menu. She nodded in amusement as he unnecessarily mimed the dimensions of the portions. She tucked away the knowledge that he worshipped turkey and cranberry burgers to the collection of other useless but endearing facts she'd gathered about him.

His cocktail of choice was red currant rum - She’d bumped into him on Halloween thoroughly intoxicated on the stuff. He’d feigned firing a toy arrow in her direction before proudly proclaiming he was Robin Hood, enunciating all the wrong words with the goofiest grin.

He outright denied being allergic to cats, inspecting the collar of each feline that decided to nap in a sunbeam on the steps of his shop, cooing their name before inevitably succumbing to three consecutive sneezes.

His family tree had long branches. On his opening weekend, she'd waded through a sea of proud redheads to reach the kiosk and hand over her business card.

"...Anyway, I wanted to mention it because, you know, if you’re alone for... well, not alone, but if you'll be around..."

Heat flared at the bottom of her spine, cautiously optimistic his rambling was veering toward an invitation.

A blast of glacial wind burst through the doorway as a customer wrenched it open. A light dusting of snow clung to his robes as he crossed the shop floor to the cabinet housing the erotic potions, taking a moment to tuck stray wisps of silvery hair into his hood.

Garreth's lips tightened into a taut line as he observed the elderly wizard pulling the entire supply of lust potion vials from the rack.

His thumb brushed his upper lip as he leaned in close, his elbow jostling her arm. "Do you reckon he takes them all in one go?"

"He'd orgasm from a pat on the head."

"Orgasm? My guy would be flung into the astral plane.”

She butted her forehead against his shoulder, struggling to transform her snort into an ill-concealed cough.

"I should get going, give you two some privacy."

"Attraction has to be in the fold for those potions to do their thing, and he's not my type," Garreth's eyes flitted to her lips, but the tinkling of thirteen phials skidding across the kiosk drew them away.

She reluctantly bundled back up into her scarf while Garreth seamlessly transitioned back into storekeeper mode.

"Have a great Christmas."

"You too, see you next time," he waved at her, turning his attention to the eager customer.

The witch spent her evening re-stitching the ruptured wound of an adolescent Hippogriff, the beast fluctuated between snapping at lacewing flies and charging aggressively toward its caretaker.

Collecting the fallen feathers from the creature's wings, she updated the ledger with the newfound stock, clucking her teeth disapprovingly at the sight of the diminishing list.

What did Garreth say was in short supply? Dittany?

During last week's Hippogriff rescue, she recalled noticing shrubs nestled in the mouth of a cave. It was a harsh winter, finances were stretched, and adding dittany to the stock during a surge in demand would ensure the creatures' comfort for the remaining winter months. Not to mention, it provided a convenient excuse to take Garreth up on his offer of dropping by.

After feeding the remaining beasts and wrapping them snug in warming charms she headed off to investigate.

Her destination wasn't far—a short ride up a shallow mountain. However, the wind thrashed against her broom. The bristles and handle careened in wildly opposing directions as she blundered through the dense forest, with a lumos scarcely penetrating two feet of the blistering snowstorm.

She sought refuge by the wreckage of a stone cottage, navigating through twisted roots and debris until she reached the cavern. Her nose wrinkled at the musty stench emanating from the path ahead, barely visible through a shroud of thick cobwebs. With a silent prayer that this was the right spot, she ignited the tangled web with a tap of her wand, the smouldering strands lit the passage and in the fleeting light, she saw a twitch in the shadows.

She’d barely uttered the Lumos incantation before a force erupted from the shadows, striking her face and propelling her into a bank of tightly packed snow. She desperately palmed the moisture flooding her vision, pale fingers smothering in the warmth of her blood. The forest whirled around her as she was hoisted into the air and slammed back to the ground.

She blindly blasted the acromantula into crumbling ruins with a frenzied swish of her wand. The arachnid recoiled from the thunderous blow, sprawling onto the ground before burrowing beneath the earth.

Scouring the terrain for any indication of the beast, a trail of crimson droplets stained the snow as she backed away, a ferocious blast of icy wind lashing at her throbbing wound.

Wiggenweld, I need wiggenweld.

The invasive thought tore through her mental image of the sanctuary farmhouse as she apparated.

Ploughing shoulder-first into a weathered door, the impact reverberated through her bones, pinging her brain around in her skull.

The skunky stench of wizzenweed curled into her nostrils, mingling with the sharp reek of spilt beer she'd stomped into and splattered up her ankles.

She swiped her hand across her eyes to smear away the blood and the harsh click of a lock snapped her back to reality—back to Hogsmeade.

Mellow candlelight exploded like a flashbang as a door creaked open, and a broad figure silhouetted against the orange glow said her name.

"Garreth?"

Humiliation struck her chest like a knife—a solid blow between her lungs. Tacky blood clung from her eyebrow to the corner of her mouth, pulling at her skin as she fought to articulate an explanation.

“What happened to you?”

"I'm so sorry, I tried apparating home, but the… it was a mistake. I needed wiggenweld… but the shortage, that’s what you told me, so I thought of you, and, I could've splinched…”

"Whoa, take a breath, you're talking a mile a minute.”

Garreth’s hands were firm on her shoulders as he steered her towards the counter and settled her on his chair. Flames from the brewing station twinkled in and out of focus as she tried to hone in on him dragging an extra stool across the floorboards, taking a seat in front of her.

"This doesn’t look like a hippogriff wound. Did someone do this to you?"

“N-no, no I was just being reckless… I did this to myself.”

She quivered as the crook of his warm finger tipped her chin up, assessing the cut with suspicious emerald eyes.

"I'm sorry," she momentarily forgot how to breathe as his thumb traced a slow path up her cheekbone. "I didn't mean to bother you. I probably have some healing tonic in a drawer at home..."

"Stop with the apologies, I told you to drop by if you needed anything, didn't I?"

A stack of flannels rested beside a simmering cauldron. He reached for one, tilting her face as he dabbed at the coagulated blood.

"It’s not as bad as it looks,” he declared, slinging the cloth over his shoulder. He scratched his forehead, a streak of crimson smearing across his freckles. "It's not too deep. If you'll let me, I could stitch some of the shallower parts back together?"

She nodded, fighting back a soft sound when he applied the tiniest bit of pressure to her throat to keep her steady. The flesh throbbed as the tip of his wand traced down the wound, his copper lashes fluttering with concentration.

It felt glaringly obvious she was intentionally avoiding eye contact. She studied the awkward, rigid dance of the misshapen reindeer on his jumper as a distraction, scattered patches of burnt fabric lay strewn in their path. Some splashes of the corrosive substance had scorched through completely, frayed fibers exposing freckles scattered across his breastbone like tiny constellations.

“You shouldn’t be wearing this.”

He quirked an eyebrow, "What would you prefer me in?”

Her complexion transitioned from deathly pale to a fiery red in seconds, "No, I just mean... the stains. They look like they’re irritating your skin," she said, reaching out instinctively. Her fingertip traced around an exposed patch of inflamed skin, causing Garreth to inhale sharply.

The atmosphere shifted. His dilated eyes locked onto hers as she glanced up and tension rippled between them, her freezing hand poised on his chest while he cradled her jaw.

Tender fingertips brushed aside strands of wet hair that clung to her cheek. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Spider," her voice barely rose above a whisper before she cleared her throat lightly. "Set its house on fire."

"Rescuing a beast?"

She responded with a noncommittal hum.

I flew up a mountain in a storm and set an acromantula on fire to find Dittany because you mentioned it briefly.

She'd be carrying that one to the grave. Or reserving the tale for their grandkids—hinging on whether the trauma scrambled her brain enough to ask him out for a drink on New Year's.

The hold on her lungs slackened as Garreth rose to his feet and fetched a trio of potions from a lofty shelf, "Murtlap essence for minor skin abrasions and it will stop you from bruising, a calming draught for shock, and this one’s for internal damage. You don't seem to have a concussion, but just in case." He arranged them on the desk alongside a clean glass before adding "They're not renowned for their flavour, you're better off taking them all at once."

With a weak expression of gratitude, she swallowed the amalgamated concoctions. The blend curdled on her tongue, flopping into her stomach like a sodden lump of wet cement.

Garreth chuckled at her attempt to conceal a grimace. "You should recover fairly quickly, but just in case, is there someone back home who can make sure you're taken care of tonight?"

"No, I run the sanctuary with a friend, but she's at her Gran's for Christmas," she fidgeted with the hem of her coat. If she had been seriously hurt, nobody would have had a clue where to find her, let alone bother looking. "It's just me.”

Garreth nodded, twirling his pestle in circles inside his mortar. She sensed his question might have been an indirect hint for her to leave.

Swallowing down her disappointment, she rose to her feet. "Well, thank you for coming to my rescue. I’ll—"

“You should stay here tonight,” he interrupted before she could finish her sentence, pivoting towards her with hands on his hips. "I just… I don't think you should be left alone after something like this."

"Here?” She stared at her mud-splattered work boots to try and conceal the blood swarming her cheeks. “Are we supposed to top and tail on your brewing station?"

"I live above the shop. You can take the bed, I sleep on the sofa most nights anyway – I can grab you some dry clothes too."

Her overactive imagination slashed through the depths of her mind leaving behind tattered shreds of unadulterated filth. Sleeping in his bed, swaddled in one of his knitted pullovers – was he trying to kill her?

"Didn't know you were such a night owl," she deflected, anxiously nibbling on her lip as the storm screamed past the window.

If he’d detected her brain being filthy, he wasn't letting on. Swinging open a cabinet door, he produced a bottle of billowing crimson liquor, suspending it between two fingers. "I got some red currant rum from a customer. Given that it's technically Christmas Day, perhaps we should celebrate?"

"Is it that late?" She craned her neck to check the time—twelve o’ twelve. "Was this whole white knight act just a way to lure me into keeping you company on Christmas?"

"Act? Come on now, are we just going to pretend you didn't think of me on your deathbed?"

The calming draught had worked too well, eclipsing any hint of shame she might have felt from that comment with the flicker of bad intentions in his eyes.

"You seem more than happy to receive me."

The cupboard beneath the potion station emitted a groan from its corroded joints as Garreth began searching for a pair of untarnished glasses.  "What can I say? I have a thing for women covered in blood," he paused, peeking over the door, "I swear I’m not going to murder you, that joke came out wrong."

She laughed as he polished water spots from the vessels with his gaudy jumper and placed them next to his replenished stock—rows of incandescent fuchsia spiralling in heart-shaped containers.

"Luxtentia," she read aloud from the label, a scrap of parchment detailing the trial-and-error process tucked alongside it. "Did I catch you in the middle of trialling new potions?"

“Lust potion,” Garreth clarified, allowing the scarlet alcohol to flow liberally into their cups. "Believe me, you'd be noticing some side effects if I had been testing that."

Tugging at the loose threads of his words felt almost instinctual.

"...Attraction has to be in the fold for lust potions to work," she tilted her head innocently, quoting his earlier words, "Doesn’t it?"

Handing her a brimming glass of the berry-infused cocktail, Garreth took a sip of his own while studying her over the rim. "Did I say that?" He appeared wholly unruffled, and a twist of arousal lit her up at the fact.

"Word for word."

He tapped a finger against his drink thoughtfully, "Would it work both ways?"

She let the back of her head thump against the barren shelf, half-hoping the collision might knock some virtue into her. No such luck. "Do you want to take me upstairs and find out?"

His grin was blinding, and a delicious anticipation blasted into her. An unspoken dare hung in the air, both silently challenging the other to make a move. He gave in first, reaching out to collect two vials of the blushing potion and pressing them into her palm.

"Your move."

She feigned a thoughtful pause before digging her nails into the stoppers and pouring a vial into each of their beverages.

Raising his glass with a wild glint in his eyes, she tapped hers against it before they knocked back the entire drink in perfect unison.

Sparks charged down her oesophagus as she set down the glass, and her clothes clung to her skin like she'd been dunked in honey. Was that the potion? What an insufferable side effect —though the logic became apparent as the urge to strip away every layer waged war against a rapidly declining sigh of restraint.

“Do you feel anything?”

Garreth’s voice burrowed under her skin – Was it always that deep-rooted and husky? If his voice was making her wet, actual sex might ruin her.

His face swam when she glanced up at him, features swirling like the post outside Madam Snelling's Tress Emporium. She couldn’t feel anything except how her skin was so tight she might rip out of herself. “I… feel drunk.”

His hand crept towards her in excruciatingly slow motion, each passing second punctuated by a thousand splintering cracks of her heart against her ribcage.

The warmth of his fingers on her wrist seeped through her clothes and scattered like white-hot stars beneath her skin. In her mind's eye, she watched those fingers tugging at the roots of her hair, tightening around her throat, satisfying the desire swirling between her thighs – Oh, she was fucked.

"Look at me," Garreth crooned, oblivious to the fact that his words were licking at her like flames. He kept talking, something about a rose, but his words were swallowed by the ringing in her ears.

"What?" she asked, dumbfounded by the cascade of words pouring from his lips.

“Your cheeks are all rosy, are you warm?”

His voice. His fucking voice.

She thrust the heel of her palms into her eyes, but his scent clawed into her lungs— Mallowsweet and shrivelfig fruit, blending with the smokiness from the ever-burning stove. She wanted to bury her face in the crook of his neck, to trace her tongue along his pulse until she could taste it too.

“Sweetheart?”

He had never said that before, only ever referring to her by name. When she cracked open her eyes, she saw that his were feral, locking onto her like a predator sizing up its prey. His pupils were blown out, the vibrant emerald engulfed by black.

Her uneasy laughter cut through the fog, hands instinctively reaching out until she found herself pulling him closer by the fabric of his sweater. "Garreth, what the hell is this?"

"I didn't know it was this... intense." His fingers pressed into the burning flesh of her cheeks, unsure whether they were pulling her closer or attempting to keep her at bay. Her tongue chased the pad of his thumb as he swept it across her parted lips. "Do you want me to take you to bed?"

"Apparate us.”

His hands descended to her neck as he drew her to his lips.

A fierce tug deep in her belly wrenched her in every direction as they plummeted into a disorderly pit of tangled blankets. The overpowering scent of his bedroom had her in a chokehold. Her greedy attempt to inhale the air was cut off as he took her lips again, his thigh sliding between hers.

She scraped her nails through his gorgeous hair, tugging the locks at his nape to lick along the sheen of his throat. The salty tang of his restraint was the single most delicious thing she had ever tasted. The groan he let escape reverberated against her lips and she imagined him moaning like that against her ear, his hips grinding into hers.

“Fuck, do that again.”

“I knew it,” her breathy laugh dispersed across his skin as she gave the sleek strands another tug. “You like that?”

"You often think about what turns me on?"

He buried his face in the curve of her throat, seeking out her pulse point. The unexpected pleasure of his bite triggered a sultry whine—she’d never made that sound before, but the potion had flushed out any ounce of indignity. He sucked a bruise into her skin, grinning as she grasped at his clothes in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Take this off, please," she scrambled with the hem. His rock-hard arousal was digging into her stomach and the fabric barriers were driving her insane.

"Don’t bother begging," his words rumbled against her neck as they both shed the constraints of their clothes, "I'll give you everything." His voice was twitchy, cracking apart with lust. An eternity passed before fabric was dragged down her thighs and found a home somewhere in the mountain of blankets.

She could barely feel his fingers—just an explosive shockwave blasting across her body. His other hand gripped the base of her skull, coaxing her mouth open, telling her how wet she was.

"Hear how pretty you sound?"

He added another finger, and stars streaked across her vision as she arched into his touch. Her body responded on pure instinct, thrusting helplessly as he mimicked with his hand what she was almost delirious for.

"My mouth sounds better."

Coarse hairs tickled her skin as she slid her fingers under the waistband of his trousers with the hope that touching him back might appease the hunger.

He thrust into her palm with a needy gasp, and it knocked her breathing shallow. In an instant, she'd pushed him onto his back, running her tongue up the entire length of his swollen cock, before swirling around the head.

The man reclining under her was almost unrecognisable, his untamed hair spilling into his black, wild eyes. Unnatural, jerky shudders wracked through his chest.

Sticking out her tongue, Garreth responded with a primal snarl, seizing the invitation to take control.

"There you go, is that what you want?" he whispered, sliding himself between her lips.

Her eyes welled up at the imposing size of him gliding across her tongue, but she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was how he was gazing at her like she was the answer to everything—Water in the desert.

She took in as much of him as she could, her wrist twisting around what she couldn't. He was ramming into her too hard, but the potion smoothed out the rough edges, turning it passionate.

Gravelly snippets of praise were spilling from his mouth, and the ruined edge to his voice threatened to make her come from his words alone. A particularly greedy thrust pounded the back of her throat at the wrong angle, and she jerked back with a rasping cough.

In less than a second, she was caged under a warm body. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be treating you like this."

"Don't be sorry, make me take it."

"Fucking hell," he groaned, descending her body and parting her legs with his palms.

She latched onto his hair, pulling him towards her lips. "No, not your mouth, I need more."

She knew she was being demanding, he just wanted to reciprocate what she had done for him, but the distance between them felt like too much, and she needed it annihilated.

“You need it?"

He taunted her clit with the head of his dick. She didn't want to waste time, he could go down on her in round two because she was so turned on by him fucking her mouth that she was shaking.

He gently nudged at her entrance, and not a single discernible word occupied her mind. She relied on her needy whining to convey what words couldn't, her nails scraping against his broad shoulders as she desperately sought an anchor.

“I don’t think I can go slow.”

"I don't want slow."

The air was squeezed from her lungs as he sank into her, bottoming out with one stroke. An orgasm struck her instantly but being so overstimulated it scarcely penetrated the fog—just a fleeting flash of lightning between her thighs.

Garreth froze as the aftereffects pulsed around him, whimpers fracturing through his voice as he strained to remain still. "Do you need me to stop?"

"No," she squirmed in an attempt to coax his hips back into action. He twitched inside her, and she gasped, "I want more." Hardly had the words left her lips when he thrust into her with such force that it sent her eyes rolling back.

“Pull my hair again."

“Make me come again.”

The speed he set was almost inhuman as her nails clawed across his scalp and down his neck. She planted her heels on the mattress to gain some control and push back into him, but he grabbed the backs of her thighs, holding her in place—spreading her open under him.

"Is this what you wanted every time you pulled out an excuse to drop by?" His hips stuttered when he looked down at the point where they were connected. She was drenched, dripping with how badly she needed him. Taking a deep breath, he started meticulously inspecting the Gryffindor Quidditch flag above his headboard, resisting the urge to finish before her.

Her heart sped up at his words and she could hear herself producing feathery noises as he extracted pleasure from her, "What took you so long to give it to me?"

"You're too cute, made me nervous," he grinned, seizing her nipple in his teeth, and pulling on it until she whimpered. "Push into me, let me have you."

His restraint oscillated, the tender kisses on her neck escalating into gnawing at her throat. The persistent pounding of his hips matched the increasing intensity, delving into the deepest parts of her with each blissful drag of his cock.

"Moan for me, those beautiful sounds are driving me insane."

This wasn't the Christmas she expected: Garreth Weasley's fingers splayed across her throat, conjuring ethereal pleasure with every precise thrust of his hips.

“Garreth...”

“I know, sweetheart." He withdrew his hand from where he was holding her legs apart, using his thumb to trail a lopsided circle around her bundle of nerves. “Come on, give me one more.”

His voice thrust her over the edge and she felt every part of her orgasm splinter through her body.

"Where do you want me to come?" he asked desperately. She was still in the throes of ecstasy, shivering uncontrollably from the high of watching him falling apart. "Tell me.”

"Come inside me," she said hoarsely. Her body was exhausted and hypersensitive, the only reason she forced herself to stay conscious was to witness him unravel.

An aftershock pulsated around him, and he shoved his face into the crook of her neck as he released deep inside her. His fingers clamped onto her thighs so tightly they throbbed, but she was too drained to muster the strength to push them off.

He lazily circled his hips into hers, as if he couldn’t bear to stop. Interlocking their fingers, he planted kisses across her knuckles. The sweet gesture made her heart stutter, and as her head nestled into a soft pile of pillows, sleep quickly claimed her.

She had a hazy memory of stirring in the night with a heavy arm over her waist and knees nestled into the crook of hers. There was something hard and insistent digging into the small of her back and when she shifted to relieve the pressure, he had whined—fucking whined.

His lips navigated her skin until they found that sweet spot under her ear, and she arched back. He accepted the invitation and slid into her. Reaching around to grip his hair, she tugged hard enough for him to reciprocate the pressure with his teeth on her shoulder. Her chest thrummed against his palm as he held her tightly, murmuring sweet nothings while fucking her slowly. He was half-asleep, but he was himself.

The daylight streamed in, too bright, with flakes purring against the window as they cascaded from the skies. Garreth’s bedroom was snug, nothing more than a bed and a chaotic pile of thumbed potion books scattered across the floor. Rolling over, she discovered a mess of red hair protruding from the green blankets.

“Merry Christmaaaaas,” he groaned, his words muffled by the bedding.

"You should've woken me up and kicked me out. Don't you have plans?"

"Guess how many are over at my folks' for Christmas?" He emerged squinting. "Uncles, aunties, cousins, nephews, nieces, girlfriends, boyfriends— What’s the headcount?"

She flung an arm across her eyes, shrugging. His ability to nosedive straight into a conversation after just waking up baffled her. "Twenty-two?"

"Thirty-eight. They won't notice if one is late," he started kissing her, slow, sweet, and sinful. "And they won't notice if there's one more?"

She huffed out a laugh at his fearless invitation, "I can't gatecrash, the last thing I want to do on Christmas day is piss off thirty-eight Weasleys."

“My aunt Matilda will be more upset if I turn up alone for yet another year. It's your decision, but I'm impatient. Waiting a whole year to flaunt you doesn't sit right with me."

Definitely a far cry from the Christmas she had imagined.

“I’d love to.”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Garreth: So, what do you bring to the team?

MC: I possess ancient magic.

Natsai: I’m an animagus.

Ominis: I make good choices.

Garreth: That doesn't seem...

Sebastian: No, he’s the most important one.

[hogwartslegacy-dailylives]

A Reprieve From Chaos— An Introduction to The Archive

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A strange artifact was found deep in the castle which contains the stories, rumors, whispers, and anecdotes about the students, which you, the main character, may or may not have been there to witness. Whoever made this is still unknown, but it contains a slice of normalcy that allows you to get to know the students just as students in all their teenage glory. Be it their dramas, secrets, or shenanigans.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘: The continuous flow of events for the students that may or may not include the main character.

𝕬𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖉𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: An extension of a student's story, a documentation of random things that they do.

𝕽𝖚𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖘: Assumptions on the students that somehow spill from one lips to another or simply what one student thinks of another. How did it end up here? Who knows?

𝖂𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘: Are the stories that are up to the main character to decide if it is for them. After all, a whisper can be an extension of one's private thoughts that easily dissipates in the air with no one to hear. Whispers can be continued, if the main character wishes to.

[hollowwrites]

What Do You Propose? - Garreth

Ominis and Sebastian here

Summary - I’m feeling some kind of way lately so…this is the last in my how the bois would propose and honestly it’s my favourite.

Not sure if I’ve mentioned Garreth and Maeve’s Hideaway but I have more on it soon with my Garreth fic which I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN ABOUT I PROMISE!!

Sorry for using my MCs all the time I’m just so in love them. Replace with Y/N or MC if you want.

Warnings - None, Just Cutesy Proposal stuff if you dont like that sort of thing

Word Count - 1521

Garreth

This was torture.

Maeve didn’t know of course.

She sat happily at the end of their makeshift dock, tucked away in the One Eyed Witch Passageway, delicately pruning the leaves of a mandrake she cared for. He watched her lovingly snip the yellowing leaves on her favourite plant and listened intently to the tiny hums and coos that fell from her lips.

Garreth found himself falling more and more in love with her by the day.

Which made his predicament more and more infuriating.

The past month had been filled with unsuccessful attempts to propose. He was just thankful she remained blissfully unaware.

The first attempt, even he would admit, was rather weak.

They were taking a casual walk along the edge of the Black Lake. Her bag bulged with their shoes and socks as they trudged through the crystal clear water of Hogwarts Lake. She paddled about in the low water picking at pretty stones and collecting the leeches along the embankment. The small fluctuations of water and light tide lapped at Garreths’ shins as he waded out into the water to follow her. She babbled on about growing Gillyweed and how the Slytherin Common Room must be wonderful, humid environment for growing plants…but Garreth wasn’t really listening.

For whatever reason, he thought it was a fantastic idea to propose at that very moment. He carried the ring around in his pocket on the off chance the perfect moment presented itself.

To him, this peaceful oasis before him…was perfect.

He fiddled with the ring in his pocket turning it over and over in his fingers. The sun started to set over the Highlands casting an ethereal orange glow over the lake. It seemed to set her hair on fire.

This is it.

Pulling the ring from pocket, he attempted to lower to one knee and ready himself for the question that would change his life.

…then he slipped on a smooth rock, and hurtled the ring into the lake.

A quick Accio saved the ring from the perils of the lake but his hasty movements and muttered voice drew her attention.

“Did you say something?” Maeve called, her shirt sleeves rolled up as she rooted through rock pools at the lakes edge. She looked over at the drenched Gryffindor, his face was beet red…for some reason.

Surely he’s not embarrassed to have fallen over in the lake? I’ve seen him do worse

“No no!” Garreth hastily pocketed the ring, resigning this whole thing a failure. “Just…fell over some…grass”

She smiled warmly and approached him. The way the water seemed to part for her and she glided effortlessly through made Garreth sigh dreamily up at her.

“Shall we call if for this evening? You’re a bit wet…” she giggled softly running her hand through his sodden red curls.

“Yeah this has been a bit of a disaster…”

“Oh” She grinned “I wouldn’t say that” she gave her basket full of various potion ingredients a quick smack before offering him her hand…

…Unfortunately for Garreth…not in marriage.

That was fine. The attempt was weak and he knew it.

This time he’d go big.

The event had to special and the day had to be special. So why not their anniversary?

He’d spent the whole day preparing the One Eyed Witch Passageway to be an emaculate escape from Hogwarts. He’d gotten quite proficient at Transfiguration with how much Detention he’d spent with his Aunt. So the dilapidated and neglected cave had been adorned with ornate gold filigree all the way down the stalagmites which more resembled candle holders. Which was lucky due to the sheer about of candles he had spent hours lighting. The whole cavern radiated warmth and felt oddly like home.

Just like her.

He led her down to their homemade haven, blindfolded by his tie, he had to wrestle her into.

“You know I’m not stable on my feet at the best of times” she said reaching for the tie around her eyes once more.

“Just…” he punctuated with a gentle slap to her hands “…trust me” his voice barely a whisper. His hands guiding her down the pathway where he had laid out a picnic blanket for them.

It was there where his plan would really come into action.

See, his last visit to Hogsmeade involved a rather inviting and silver tongued salesman who told him of ‘trained fireflies’.

They’re enchanted to say whatever message you wish, he had said. Perfect for a romantic gesture.

Brilliant.

So as he uncorked the tiny jar and watched as the fireflies escaped into the far corners of the room, his heart sank.

“Oh Garr!!” Maeve squealed. Whilst he watched his galleons fly off into the cavern, adorning the ceiling like constellations, she’d removed the tie. “You did all of this for our anniversary?” she cooed hugging his arm tight to her chest.

“Yeah…” he sighed once more. At least she was happy.

So simple didn’t work.

And fancy didn’t work.

He only had one other option…

And that was silliness…

The day after the Firefly attempt was their weekly potion experimentation time. They stood back to back, Garreth brewing and Maeve chopping and prepping ingredients for him. They worked like a well oiled machine, her handing him the immaculately prepared ingredients before he even had to ask.

Until the time came…

His showstopper.

He brewed a relatively weak potion. Just a little something that would make her fingers tingle…and he dropped the ring into it. Holding up to the light, he inspected the ring as it fell to bottom of the beaker, the clear blue of the liquid highlighting the red stone of the ring beautifully.

“Alright, Mae, it’s ready” he turned triumphantly holding the beaker aloft, a smug grin spreading across his features.

“Bottoms up” she exclaimed. Without even looking at it, she took the bottle and chugged it in one.

Garreth watched in horror as the ring fell down into her mouth, followed immediately by his beloved coughing and spluttering as the ring shot across the room.

“Bloody hell, Garreth! What was that?!” Maeve croaked

“Must’ve…snapped off the cauldron or…I’ll get it” Garreth scuttled about after the ring and after falling to his knees to reach under the potions tables, he retrieved it. He walked back to her side, the ring safely in his pocket, where, as far as he was concerned, it would stay forever.

“What was it?” She asked cocking her brow after watching him pocket the item.

“Just a bit off the ladle. Sorry. Are you okay?” He asked softly, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her up to him.

“Yeah I’m fine” she smiled up at him warmly “Shall we head back to Hideaway?”

And there they were…

The walk over had Garreth thinking and overthinking. He had been unusually quiet whilst she tended to her plants, the usually background chatter they shared completely gone leaving the Hideaway feeling empty in its silence.

Of course her soft humming helped calm some of his more ridiculous trains of thought like:

What if all of this is just a sign from the universe?

What if I’m a coward and never do this?

What if she leaves me?

But that didn’t mean they didn’t affect him.

He raked his fingers through his crimson locks, getting more and more angry at himself for his stupidity and inability to perform a basic task.

Eventually, it niggled at him to point where he had to say something.

“Maeve please…will you just…marry me? Please?” He practically begged, head in his hands and voice strained. He heard the sharp sound of scissors snip as she pruned away.

“What?” She blinked

“You have no idea how hard I have been trying to get that out. The lake, our anniversary, earlier today with the potion…it just…it’s all going so wrong and I just…want…you” he sighed heavily. This wasn’t at all how it was supposed to go.

“Oh Garreth…” she said softly, rising from by the water to shuffle closer to him “…you could propose to me via owl with parchment covered in troll bogeys and my answer would always be the same”

Her tiny hands reached out hold his face up off the floor. He looked so tired. So exasperated. So cute.

“And that answer is?” Now he was almost hopeful…but with his track record maybe he shouldn’t be.

“Yes…obviously. Dummy” The smile spreading across her face registered with Garreth before her words did.

“Really?” He clambered off the little crate he sat on, kneeling on the floor with her. “I have a ring wait…hold on…”

He pulled the ring from his pocket, still sticky from the potion and subsequent trip across the potions classroom floor.

“Oh it’s so pretty, put it on me, put it on me!” She squeaked holding her hand out for him to shakily slide the ring on. “…Garreth wrong finger, you know what, it’s fine”

When the ring was safely on her finger, incorrectly, she tackled him to ground, peppering tiny kisses over his face, one for every freckle she could find.

Turns out he just needed to ask.

Masterlist

[thefeatherwrites]

❄️ HLMC December ❄️

Day Eight: Does your MC come from a different country? Do they celebrate Christmas differently?

Julianna: She was born and raised in London, England. Naturally, she would celebrate the 'usual' traditions. However, she isn't one to celebrate such a joyful holiday. That is, until a certain redhead waltzed in and simply - changed her perspective. Let me explain this, with a short story about traditions; both old and new.

- Christmas Traditions -

The date on the calendar was as clear as crystal, December 24th.

Christmas Eve.

The wind and snow rattled the windows of her little cottage, the growing storm would surely snow her in for the night... and more than likely the next several days.

At least she was in a warm space, she thought. Her living room glowed a warm shade of orange and the crackling from her fireplace permeated the silence as she sipped on her tea, letting out a deep sigh.

Walking over to her large bookshelf, she let her finger graze the spines of her books until she settled on one particular book; A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

A very fitting book she thought, chuckling to herself at the idea that her and Ebenezer Scrooge had a few things in common - they held indifference towards Christmas and they had ghosts that loved to remind them of who they really were.

Christmas was not a holiday Julianna associated with glad tidings and cheer like most others. Being raised in a desolate orphanage in central London, her life was difficult and often times unbearable. You would believe the owners would do something for the poor children who didn't have a family to bless them with gifts and love. Alas, she, along with the others, were not so lucky.

Once Lady Ellenburg called for lights out, some of the orphans would sneak out of their bed and scrounge up whatever they could find to celebrate Christmas. One year she remembered vividly, they attempted to make their own Christmas tree. A dead tree in a pot, a stained yellow ribbon tied to the top branch, and small bits of items; like a single jack, some playing cards, and a cool looking rock to serve as presents under the tree.

To say it was a pathetic attempt was a massive understatement compared to the trees she saw at Hogwarts. Twelve feet tall, beautifully decorated, lit up like a shining beacon in the night, making her feel just like the makeshift tree - small and pointless. Since then, she never celebrated Christmas with things like a tree, presents, or even with the presence of another. She much preferred to spend this time alone.

Her own lonesome tradition, bathed in silence.

As she sat in her comfy chair, nestled by the fire, a loud knock on the door stirred the silence. Startled, she set her book onto the tea table, grabbed her robe off the back of the chair and wrapped herself up as she crept up to the door.

Grabbing her wand, she held it towards the door and slowly reached for the handle. Her hands began to shake upon touching the cold handle and took a deep breath before swinging the door wide open and pointing her wand towards a figure who took up most of her doorway.

Of all things she expected, a wide-eyed Garreth Weasley standing in her doorway was the last thing she expected.

"Wait! Jules! It's just me!" he exclaimed, hastily raising his hands in a gesture of innocence.

"Garreth? What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" Julianna hissed in exasperation, her wand poised defensively but gradually lowering her wand.

"I wanted to see you." He stated simply, squeezing past her and making himself comfortable in her living room.

"By all means, come in." She whispered sarcastically, a chill running down her spine as she closed the door, still taken aback by Garreth's unexpected intrusion.

As he casually explored her living room, he inquired, "What are you up to this evening?" Garreth removed his scarf and gloves, setting them to the side.

Turning sharply towards him, Julianna closed the gap between them, catching him off guard and causing a blush to color his cheeks. "What are you doing here, Garreth?" she questioned. Her gaze locked onto his shining green eyes.

Despite his mildly arousing disheveled appearance, she knew that cutting to the chase would be the quickest route to get anything from him, especially when he is known to beat around the bush when confronted.

"Well, uhh...," he stammered, scratching his head in a feeble attempt to appear nonchalant, "I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by."

Arms crossed, Julianna arched her eyebrow at him. "In the neighborhood."

"Yes, just a little walk." he replied, attempting to maintain his composure.

She continued to scrutinize him, "In a blizzard."

"Yes." The weight of her deadpan stare bore down on him, making him shift uncomfortably. He felt transparent under Julianna's gaze, as if she could effortlessly read him like any of the books in her small library. But he would never deny any time to look into her eyes, his new favorite color.

"Right, and I'm the Queen of England." She scoffed, making her way back to her chair.

Garreth sighed, conceding, "Alright, you caught me. I wanted to come and invite you to join me for the evening." Turning towards her, he couldn't help but notice the soft glow of her cheeks, illuminated but the fire as she sat down. Her dark wavy hair cascaded down to her slightly exposed chest; the robe and silk nightdress she wore left little to the imagination of her toned figure. Unintentionally, his cheeks grew red at the thoughts that had crossed his mind since she opened the door.

"I thought you were spending Christmas with your family?" She asked, taking a large sip of her tea.

A few weeks prior, Garreth had extended an invitation to Julianna to join his family for Christmas dinner at his parent's cottage, hoping she would accept. However, she had politely declined, mentioning she had plans of her own. Garreth assumed she would be spending the holiday with the Sallows until he received an owl from them two days ago.

The Sallow's were spending Christmas in France with Sebastian's sister Anne, and upon their offer to join them, she declined. Concerned for her well-being, they asked Garreth to check on her, as she insisted on staying in Scotland, and he was more than happy to accept.

So, instead of attending his family's dinner, Garreth braved the blizzard to check on her. Upon seeing the lights in her window, he felt a bit heartbroken, suspecting that she might be intentionally keeping to herself.

But not this year. He won’t allow it.

"I thought you would be in France by now." Garreth said, crossing his arms inquisitively.

"I was, but I decided to stay home." she replied, her gaze meeting the floor.

"Well, nobody deserves to be alone for Christmas, so I am here to keep you company." he said with a warm smile.

Touched by his words, Julianna's eyes rose from the floor to his. She realized that she didn’t truly wish to be alone — she was just used to it. The brief silence between them was broken by Garreth's growling stomach, prompting a chuckle as a blush deepened from his cheeks to his ears.

“I’ll make us some soup. Go on and get warm by the fire okay?” She suggested with a kind smile. Rising from her chair, she let her hand graze Garreth's shoulder as she strolled towards the kitchen.

As Julianna prepared a simple vegetable soup, Garreth, now coatless and scarf-free, set his winter attire on the coat rack. He stood by the fire, warming his hands as his eyes wandered over the few belongings she had in the house. What struck him even more was the absence of decorations, a stark contrast to the festive atmosphere he was accustomed to during Christmas.

“Do you not decorate for Christmas?” Garreth turned his head towards Julianna who had just finished making their soup.

“No, I don’t.” She replied simply.

“Do you celebrate Christmas?” He inquired, noticing a momentary stiffness before she responded, keeping her back towards him.

“I used to.”

With a small frown, Garreth remembered that he was privy to her life before she attended Hogwarts. He had overheard his Aunt Matilda's private conversation with the late Professor Fig about her poor upbringing in the orphanage. The details made him sick to his stomach, knowing she had endured so many years of loneliness.

He could understand why she felt this way, but Garreth was determined to show her the warmth and joy she deserved. He wanted to demonstrate how colorful and beautiful the holiday season could be.

He had an idea.

In a sudden move, Garreth grabbed his coat and scarf, rushing towards the door just as Julianna was beginning to fill their bowls.

“I’ll be back in a second!” he yelled behind him.

“Where are you going? Your food is going to get cold!” She shouted, but Garreth didn’t hear, having already slammed the door shut behind him to trudge through the snow.

“Bloody idiot.” She whispered to herself, wondering what impulsive idea had possessed him to brave the wintry storm again.

After some time passed, Julianna had just finished her soup when the front door slammed open again. Startled by the sudden noise, she jumped and ran to the door, expecting to find Garreth. However, what greeted her was not him, but a tree.

He shoved the tree through the door, a beaming smile on his face as he dragged the tree through her living room and into the corner by her bookshelf, leaving hundreds of pine needles in its wake. The chaos of the moment left Julianna momentarily speechless, torn between amusement and exasperation at his unexpected antics.

“What is that.”

“It’s a tree.”

“Oh for the love of Merlin," she whispered to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I mean why did you bring a tree into my house?”

“It’s a Christmas tree!” Garreth exclaimed with a wide grin. Her eyes widened a bit before they softened as she looked at the tree. It was just like the ones at Hogwarts, albeit much smaller of course, but her heart seemed to skip a beat at the kind gesture.

“I…”

“You don’t have to do anything. Just sit down, relax, and watch me work my magic.” He said, winking at her as he gestured for her to take a seat in her chair by the fire. Julianna couldn't help but smile, touched by his effort while watching him stabilize the tree.

She watched him for over an hour, meticulously putting together the tree and using his wand to adorn it with lights. The colorful glow certainly added a lively atmosphere to the room, but it still seemed like something was missing.

“And now, for the grand finale.” Garreth conjured an intricate glass star and levitated it to the top of the tree, using an illuminating spell to add a warm, soft light to it. The star glowed brightly in the room, casting a gentle radiance that added a touch of something special.

“What do you think? I know it’s not much but…” Garreth turned to Julianna, who had rose from her chair and stared at the tree, tears running down her face.

“Oh god, Jules, are you okay?” He panicked. He hadn't seen her cry since their days in school, and he wasn't quite sure how to handle such situations. Closing the distance between them, she wrapped her arms around him, enveloping them both in a comforting warmth.

“It’s perfect.” She whispered into his chest, quietly sobbing. Garreth, touched by her response, wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair, laying his chin on top of her head. He couldn’t help but smile as he squeezed her a bit harder, cherishing this rare moment of her vulnerability. Her small figure was comforting against him, gently swaying her from side to side in an effort to calm her down.

Julianna had never experienced such kindness and she was simply overwhelmed with emotions that felt too much to hold in. Garreth's large hands around the small of her back and the nape of her neck made her feel hot under his touch. Eventually, she pulled back softly, admiring his freckled face and his fiery red hair, which seemed to glow in the flickering firelight.

A dim light appeared above them, drawing her attention to a growing branch of mistletoe. Her eyes returned to his, and his gaze remained fixated on hers.

'Thank Merlin for wordless charms', he thought. She smiled as he leaned in , closing the distance, and pressed his lips against hers.

In that moment, underneath the enchanting glow of the mistletoe, warmth bloomed in Garreth's cheeks as he began to part from her. But to his surprise, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back in for another kiss. The unexpected gesture left him pleasantly stunned, and he willingly surrendered to the warmth of her lips.

With the fire crackling nearby, casting a soft glow on the scene, her chest bloomed with warmth as their lips met a second, third and fourth, deepening each time. She no longer felt cold, abandoned, or alone as she had before he came. As Garreth tightened his hold on her, she let out a quick gasp, allowing her lips to open for his tongue to dance with hers.

After a few blissful minutes of breathless kissing and roaming hands, they finally parted. Hearts racing, they stared longingly into each other's eyes, the room feeling incredibly hot as they pulled away from each other.

Julianna discreetly wiped the bit of saliva from the corner of her mouth, her eyes locked onto Garreth. His gaze, however, roamed the fire as if it were the most interesting thing in the world while the blush on his cheeks, ears, and now bit of exposed chest shown a slight hue of pink.

“I’m so sorry, I um… I hope I wasn’t being too forward.” Julianna apologized.

“No! Not at all, it was amazing.” He replied, still blushing profusely as he returned his gaze to hers.

“You must still be hungry, let me go heat up your soup, while you get comfortable.” She went to warm up his soup while he settled onto the chaise lounge by the fire, admiring the tree which added a bit of cheer to the room, but not as much cheer as his heart felt.

Julianna brought his soup and sat next to him. He devoured it within seconds, making her laugh, which, in turn, made him smile. As they began to enjoy this simple moment, the window began to rattle from the oncoming wind. The snowstorm was getting worse, and they both concluded there was no way he was leaving for the night.

“What book is this?” He asked, picking up the book from the table.

“It’s A Christmas Carol. It’s a muggle book; you probably wouldn’t be interested.”

“I might! Would you read it to me?” Julianna’s eyes sparkled a bit from the question. Of course she wanted to read it.

“Alright.” She smiled.

Garreth turned to lay on the chaise, beckoning Julianna to sit in between his legs. She did so, wrapping them both up into a blanket, facing the fire and her new Christmas tree. She opened the book and began to read, feeling Garreth's fingers comb through her hair as he pressed a quick kiss to her temple.

“Marley was dead: to begin with,” she started, her voice carrying the weight of the classic tale. With each sentence, she became more animated, immersed in the story while Garreth listened intently with a warm smile on his face.

The snow and wind battering the window, the crackle of the fire, and Garreth's soft breathing near her ear, all blended into her new favorite kind of silence.

Her new favorite Christmas tradition.

[rypnami]

Hello!

29. "I'm falling for you." With Omi or Garreth

Thank you 💋

hi! thank you for the ask ^^ this is my first anon request hehehe

i’m gonna do Gar for this once since i just did one with Omi BUT i might rewrite this one with him too at some point.

link to prompts list!

prompt: 'i'm falling for you'

word count: 319

warnings: Garreth has a potion explode in his face but he's fine lolol

I'm Falling For You (Literally)

BOOM.

Another burst of sparks and ominous looking green smoke billowed from the cauldron. You look dubiously at Garreth.

“Perhaps you should stop before it actually explodes,” you said, eyeing the cauldron. Garreth certainly knew what he was doing when it came to potions… it was when he tried inventing his own that things went awry.

He only chuckled. “Please, MC. It’ll be fine. I just need to add a bit more powdered Bicorn horn. I think.” He started methodically pouring the fine white powder into the cauldron, causing the liquid within to turn from green to a violent shade of purple. 

You raised your eyebrows. “You think?!”

Garreth nodded. “I don’t know for sure, but-” He was cut off as the potion loudly fizzled and popped, shooting a burst of black smoke right into his face. He stumbled back, coughing, and fell to the floor. His freckly face was covered in ash, and it scattered across his ginger hair.

You ran forward and knelt by his side. “Gar! Gar, are you okay? Talk to me!”

His eyes were closed, but the steady rise and fall of his chest made it clear that he was still alive, at least. You shook him by the shoulders. “Come on, wake up!”

One of his brilliant green eyes cracked open, and he had a cheeky grin. “Nah, I’m fine.”

You crossed your arms and huffed. “You scared me! Merlin’s beard, why would you do that?!”

Garreth sat up and gently tucked a bit of your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering by your cheek. “Isn’t it obvious, MC? I’m falling for you. Literally,” he added, with a laugh.

You laughed in spite of yourself and playfully shoved him away.

“Oh, shut up, Weasley…”

But when he shifted closer again, even with his ash-coated lips and hair that smelled faintly like burnt toast, you didn’t mind at all when he kissed you.