#garreth weasley smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wedonthaveawhile · 6 months

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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.

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sallowsarchives · 1 year

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I spy a certain slytherin boy looking jealous 😏

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metal-mouse · 1 year

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Don't Ever Leave

pairing: Garreth Weasley x f!MC (M/F pairing)

themes: 18+ minors DNI. smut. fluff. so, so many tropes. pourn with plot. confessing feelings. idiots in love.

warnings: smut. p in v. unprotected sex. a hint of body worshipping. f receiving oral. not even an attempt to pull out.

summary: 7.1k words of whatever this is. It has been one year since you have graduated from Hogwarts. You've returned to Hogsmeade for some shopping, and you run into a familiar face. You spend the afternoon catching up with Garreth Weasley, when a rain storm rolls in preventing you from returning home.

note: I'm thirsty for Garreth Weasley and I'm a filthy slut for tropes. This got way longer than I expected it to. Editing? Never heard of her. Unicorns shed their horns like moose because I said so. I'll make a Garreth stan out of you if it's the last thing I do 😤

tagging @the-ominis-gaunt and @cuffmeinblack bc the red haired boi.

s/o to @anto-pops for letting me yell in the dms and also being an enabler and a pot-stirrer. luv u.

You called one last good-bye to Albie Weekes as you left his shop stepping into the cool November air. It had been well over a year since you’d last stepped foot in Hogsmeade, and it was nice to catch up with some old friends. Your next step would be visiting Parry Pippin, who had been most fond of you while you were in school. You’d always helped him make deliveries to Fatimah Lewang, which had gotten you a decent amount of pocket money. He had always paid you handsomely for having to deal with that unpleasant woman. You made your way up the street towards the potions shop, savoring the sights and sounds of the bustling village. Seeing students wander the streets talking and laughing filled you with so many fond memories. You could almost see yourself with Sebastian and Ominis, or perhaps Garreth Weasley, walking through the village and stopping in at the shops.

Your mind lingered on the idea of walking through Hogsmeade with Garreth. The two of you had formed a very close friendship in your sixth year. You had been immensely fond of him, and something deep down inside of you had always hoped the two of you might become more than just friends. Besides Sebastian and Ominis, he was the one you spent the most time with. The amount of time the two of you had spent flirting was obscene, with delicate touches and priceless banter. Garreth had been quick to blush, and how you loved to make him blush.

You got to the entrance of J. Pippin’s, and were jolted by the door opening suddenly. A man with a friendly face and a messy head of red hair bumped into you.

“Garreth?” You said, momentarily wondering if you’d accidentally summoned him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, and then frowned at his choice of words, “er… I mean It’s lovely to see you!” He added quickly. You couldn’t help but smile at the blush that bloomed across his cheeks.

“I needed to buy a new broom, I figured I’d come and visit some of the other shopkeepers while I’m here.” You said.

“Still up to trouble, I gather?” He asked.

“Naturally.” You gave him a wink. He laughed, and opened his arms for a hug. You embraced him briefly before stepping back and inspecting him. In the year since you’d seen him last he’d grown out of being the boy you knew. He was taller, his shoulders broader and he looked obviously strong under his clothes - which you noticed were very well tailored. The boyishness of his round cheeks had lessened, his cheekbones and jawline more defined now. You’d thought him handsome while in school, but now… he was breathtaking.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” Garreth said, his eyes searching your face.

“I only live over in Feldcroft. It’s not that far a journey. I’m more surprised to see you here.” You said. A sullen look flashed across his face so fast you almost thought you’d imagined it.

“Feldcroft? Are you living with Sallow?” He asked, an unexpected bite to his voice.

“Anne Sallow, yes. Sebastian and Ominis moved to London to be closer to work. What have you been up to?”

“Oh… right! I… well… it’s a little embarrassing.” His hand reached up to push his hair back.

“What, are you shoveling dragon dung for a living?” You asked. He shot you a scandalized look.

“No, I’m Parry Pippin’s assistant.” You arched a brow at his response. That seemed like a respectable job to you.

“Why would that be embarrassing? Mr. Pippin is an excellent potioneer.”

“Speaking of Mr. Pippin, he is patiently waiting for one Mr. Weasley to go gather his ingredients.” Parry Pippin’s voice made you nearly jump out of your skin. You looked over to the shopkeeper, who had his hands on his hips and a little frown on his face. Garreth’s face flushed again.

“Hello, Mr. Pippin!” You reached out and shook his hand.

“It’s lovely to see you dear, now, if you’re insistent on distracting my assistant, why don’t you make yourself useful and help him collect the ingredients I need? He could use someone to watch his back.” Mr. Pippin said sternly. It was your turn to blush. You looked over to Garreth who had a hopeful look on his face. You nodded, it wasn’t like you were expected anywhere else - not with Anne visiting Ominis and Sebastian - and there was no way you could say no to that face. You would certainly rather be with him than be in the frigid sky on your way to an empty house. After a final sharp word from Mr. Pippin, Garreth started on the road that would take you towards the Forbidden Forest.

It felt a little surreal, to be walking down that familiar path with Garreth Weasley. Truth be told, you hadn’t anticipated running into any of your school friends. You hadn’t really been close with many students under your year, and most of your friends were busy with their new jobs. Natty was back in Uganda, Poppy was running around the wilderness looking for beasts, Ominis was apprenticing in Diagon Alley, Sebastian was working in the Auror’s office… Even Anne seemed to be spending more and more time in London.

You did think it a little amusing that you found yourself yet again protecting someone while they entered a dangerous location. It had become a habit during your school years, and it seemed to be carrying into your graduate life. The villagers in Feldcroft often asked for your help when it came to potentially dangerous situations.

“I needed a job so I could save up and open up my own shop - Mr. Pippin was looking for someone to help out around his shop, it just seemed right.” Garreth said, jolting you from your thoughts. His tone was a little dejected, as though it was a disappointment for him to not own his own shop.

“It certainly gives you good access to ingredients for your experiments. You’ve only just left school, you have loads of time Gar. You’re brilliant, I know you’ll have your own shop in no time.” You said encouragingly. He really was brilliant at potion-making, despite his unfortunate mishaps with his personal experiments.

“You think so?” He asked, a little smile on his face. You nodded in response, returning his smile. His green eyes seemed to sparkle as he held your gaze for a moment - before promptly tripping over his own feet and stumbling. You moved on reflex, your arms wrapping around his, and hauling him upwards so he didn’t fall down.

“Even if you can’t walk in a straight line to save your life, yes I do think so.” You said, laughing at him. His face was red as he joined in your laughter.

“I can walk perfectly straight, thank you very much.”

“Hurt your pride, did I?”

“At least I can reach the top shelf.”

“That’s a low blow, Weasley.”

“Yes, because you’re so close to the ground.”

You and Garreth bickered back and forth as you walked along, without realizing you were still holding onto his arm. You loved spending time with Anne, and you did appreciate your neighbours in the village, but this was wonderful. It had been a long time since you’d laughed like this. Before you knew it, you stood at the entrance of the Forbidden Forest. You dropped his arm, pulling your wand out of the hidden pocket inside your coat.

“Alright, I’ve got to find unicorn hair and hopefully some unicorn horns. They’re shedding this time of year.” Garreth said.

“Really? That’s not going to be easy. I know where some unicorns stay, but it’s very deep in the forest.” You said, frowning a little. You’d gone to see the unicorns several times during your time at school, especially after you’d chased all the poachers out of the woods. You wondered if they would remember you - and if they would just run from Garreth.

“You know where their den is?” He looked at you with an amazed expression.

“Well, Poppy Sweeting wasn’t the only one who was fond of magical beasts.” You said, stepping through the gate towards the forest. You’d never shown anyone the Room of Requirement, preferring to keep it your own little sanctuary. There was no way Garreth would have known about your beast rescuing services. He merely tilted his head in agreement and followed you through the gate.

It had been a long time since you’d set foot in the ancient feeling forest, and it was just as unnerving. Despite going into the forest countless times, the feeling of it was something you’d never gotten used to. It was always so unnaturally quiet, despite the abundance of life you knew dwelled under the dark canopy of trees. Garreth’s hand quietly found yours, and you didn’t have it in you to tease him about it. The forest could really be scary. You didn’t speak as you guided him down the path, trying to remember the way to the unicorns all while listening carefully for the tell-tale signs of trouble. You navigated the twisting paths, taking the route which you recalled to have the least amount of spiders.

You both froze when a spine-chilling howl echoed in the distance. Garreth’s hand tightened over yours. You had no idea what sort of beast had made that horrible noise, and you weren’t in a rush to find out. Dark mongrels you could handle. Werewolves, you weren’t all that eager to try and fight. Anything else… Unless it was small and easily defeatable, you truly weren’t interested today.

“Please tell me we’re not going towards that.” He whispered to you. You shook your head, looking towards the direction of the noise. It was, thankfully, in the wrong direction.

“I can’t believe he wanted you to come here alone.” You whispered, unwilling to speak any louder. You wondered in part if that was because of Parry Pippin’s cowardice. The man wasn’t exactly known for his bravery, which was showcased so brilliantly in the delivery job he’d given you. If he wasn’t able to face Madam Lewang, how in the world would he have faced the forest and its denizens? Perhaps you’d have to have a talk with the master potioneer upon your return. You gently tugged on Garreth’s hand and started walking again - increasing your pace when another howl echoed.

“You never said what you’re doing now that school’s done.” He said quietly, clearly desperate to break up at least some of the tense silence.

“I’m not really doing much these days, I mostly help around Feldcroft and take care of Anne. St. Mungos reckons they’ve nearly got a cure.” You said, stepping over a large root and turning slightly to make sure Garreth didn’t trip over it. After everything you’d done, from stopping the Goblin rebellion to destroying the poacher trade in the Scottish Highlands, you figured you were owed a well deserved break - not that you were doing much relaxing.

“That’s wonderful to hear, I always did like Anne…” He trailed off, as though there was something more he wanted to say. Heavy footsteps made the ground tremble slightly, and you shoved Garreth into the shadows against a tree before pressing against him trying to make the pair of you as inconspicuous as possible. He made no noise as a troll thumped across the path. You were steadily growing more annoyed with Mr. Pippin by the minute. What if he had been alone? It was inexcusable! You at least knew you could take on a fully grown troll. He may have been decent at defense against the dark arts, but Garreth had never fought a troll on his own. Hell, even Sebastian struggled and that was with your help. It was a tense few moments before the troll moved deeper into the forest.

��Come on. He didn’t see us.” You kept the steady pace up.

“This is awful. How in the world are you still alive? I am so sorry for asking you to collect ingredients for me all the time.” Garreth hissed as he followed you. You snorted, his requests for you to go into the forest were often the least dangerous adventures you went on. The forest got darker as you ventured deeper, and now you really had to be on your guard. You jumped when something wet and cold dripped onto your face, and looked up with your wand out. You sighed when you felt more drops and realized it was just raining. You wondered if you’d lost your nerve, which was not helped when Garreth huffed a laugh at your reaction.

“Not a word out of you, Weasley.” You shot a glare over your shoulder.

“Are you frightened of the rain? Do you need me to protect you?” He teased. A stick cracked nearby, and with a nervous gasp he moved closer to you. You smirked a little, not even needing to tease him for his face to go red. You fell into silence once more, hoping the rain would stay light. If it was storming by the time you were due home, you weren’t going to be happy about it. Hand in hand and wands at the ready, you and Garreth pushed on into the darkness.

You smiled when you heard the soft nickering of horses. You pulled Garreth to the side behind some bushes, quietly casting the disillusionment charm on yourself. He did the same, and you guided him forwards a little. You let go of his hand, beaming at the sight of the unicorns in front of you. You could feel him looming over your shoulder, his fingers gently pressing against the small of your back. It was a stunning sight, to have so many of these rare beasts all in one spot.

“They’re beautiful.” He bent to whisper in your ear. You nodded despite the fact he couldn’t really see you.

“Stay here. I want to see if they’ll let me approach them.” You whispered back, stepping away from him and removing the charm. You stepped forward slowly, letting yourself be seen by the unicorns. A massive white stallion moved forwards, staring you down with deep-set eyes. His coat was majestic, it almost seemed to glow despite no light hitting it. You stopped, and lifted your hands carefully. A loud whinny made you look to your left, and you gasped when Hazel the unicorn trotted happily towards you.

“Hazel! You look wonderful, my friend.” You said, smiling at her as she stopped before you. You lifted your hand and gently stroked her forehead. She truly did, her coat was shining bright as ever and she was plump from eating well. You flicked your wand, summoning a horse brush to give her a nice brush down. You momentarily forgot about Garreth as a few other unicorns you recognized moved in closer - including Hazel’s mate who you had named Ares, and the now-grown foal they’d had just over two years ago that you called Honey. You were laughing now, greeting each of them and letting them all take their turns with your brush and summoning little treats for each of them.

You took a moment to glance around the clearing that they lived in, and indeed there were a few horns littered around the ground. You looked over your shoulder to where Garreth was hidden behind the bush, and carefully beckoned to him. The unicorns froze, going on high alert as he took a careful step into the clearing.

“This is Garreth, he’s my friend.” You said, the word friend leaving a slightly bitter taste in your mouth. He came to stand beside you, careful not to move too quickly. He didn’t want to frighten them. Hazel moved a little closer to you, assessing him carefully. You swore that she understood everything you ever told her, and when she turned her head towards you and then back to him you felt that she knew just who he was. You held your hand out for Garreth’s, and he placed his hand in yours without hesitation. You lifted his hand, gently pressing it to Hazel’s forehead and stroking it downwards in the way she liked to be pet above her nose. You watched him while he repeated the motions you showed him, reveling in the awed look on his face. His green eyes were wide, and almost sparkling. A smile slowly spread as his nerves faded, and he met your gaze. He was so handsome it almost hurt. To see him so happy to be doing something that you loved… you hadn’t expected it to make your heart pound like this.

“Hello! It’s lovely to meet you.” Garreth addressed Hazel, and you thought you were going to drop dead at the way that made you feel. You thought about how so many witches and wizards completely disregarded beasts and their intelligence, and to see someone so important to you regard beasts with respect… you were getting flustered with the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

The rain really started to pick up now, and you were reminded that you stood in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, probably surrounded by dangerous creatures. You and Garreth got to work, he searched for fallen horns while you brushed unicorn tail hairs out carefully.

“You know, this has turned out to be a very pleasant adventure.” Garreth said conversationally, coming closer to you to help with harvesting some tail hairs.

“Are you only saying that because Pippin won’t be complaining about his unicorn ingredients now?” You asked with a grin.

“Not at all! It’s nice to see you again. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t sure I would. I’d assumed you would disappear wherever Sallow went.” He said, giving you a nervous glance. Your brows furrowed as you thought about what he’d just said. Why in the world would he assume that?

“With Sebastian? What do you mean?” You asked.

“Well… It wasn’t just me who thought this, of course, but I thought you would end up marrying him. You two were always so close.” He said awkwardly. You were close with Sebastian, and you had been through a lot with him, but not once did you see him as a romantic partner. You could understand why others may have thought that; the man was an unbearable flirt after all, but he’d never sought you romantically either. In fact, you’d played wing-man for him far too many times to count.

You shook your head, “Sebastian and I were never romantically involved, nor will we ever be. That would be like kissing my brother.” You cringed at the thought of kissing Sebastian. Garreth was quiet for a long time. You looked over at him and saw him deep in thought as he gently brushed Honey’s tail.

“Oh… so, you’re not… involved with anyone?” He asked, tilting his head cautiously.

“No, Garreth, I am not.” You said. Your love life was indeed woefully empty. Some part of you still clung to the idea of somehow being with him. Why would he even be bringing this up? Did he truly care about your love life, or was he being polite?

The rain was lashing down now, leaving you both absolutely drenched while you worked. The unicorns began to retreat deeper into the woods now, looking to find some sort of shelter from the rain. You had started to shiver from the cold rain, chilling you down to the bone. Hazel was the last to leave, leaning against the palm of your hand one last time before turning and walking through the trees into the darkness. It was bittersweet, seeing the unicorn go. You resolved to come back and visit more often - you’d handled the forest as an inexperienced witch, you had so much more skill and experience now to navigate the twisting paths. You looked around, wrapping your arms around yourself to try and gain some sort of warmth. The thick clouds in the sky and the rapidly setting sun bathed the surrounding forest in an impossibly dark shade of black.

When the clearing was suddenly bathed in light, you turned to see Garreth holding his wand with its tip shining brightly between his teeth as he finished stuffing unicorn hairs and horns into the satchel he’d brought with him. He looked at you, and you squinted as the light hit your eyes.

“You’re blue! Come on, let’s get you somewhere warm and dry.” He said, taking his wand out of his mouth. You frowned, not happy that your little adventure was coming to an end. Garreth was right, you were freezing. Your hands had gone numb, and you could feel your teeth starting to chatter a little. It was going to be a long trip back to Feldcroft. You lamented your loss of the Hogwarts floo system, an annoying decision Phineas Nigellus Black had made upon your graduation.

“I’ve g-got to p-pick up my br-broom from Alb-bie. Got t’ f-fly home.” You stammered out, the cold effectively locking your jaw. A powerful gust of wind made the trees swish and made you even colder.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re going to fly home in this? You’ll catch your death.” Garreth shook his head, holding his hand out. You took it, and he apparated before you could even put another word in.

You looked up at the little cottage you stood in front of, blinking in surprise. You supposed Garreth did have a point - the wind had picked up far too much now, flying would be dangerous. You’d go see Sirona again and see if she had any rooms available. Garreth unlocked the door to the cottage and practically dragged you inside. The door closed behind you, and the lamps flickered to life lighting up a cozy little living area. Garreth wordlessly waved his wand towards the fireplace on the wall adjacent to the door and it roared to life almost instantly flooding the room with delicious warmth.

You moved closer to the fire, looking around the room as you did. There were two narrow bookcases crammed full on either side of the fireplace, and a squashy green armchair and matching loveseat with a small wooden table in front of the fire. On the next wall was a potions station complete with an extensive storage system. On the other side of the room was a small kitchen with a little dining table that had only two chairs. A door on the very back wall led to what you assumed was the bathroom. It was a charming little house, somehow very maximalist despite not having much for decor - how typical of him. Leander Prewett had once described their dormitory to you, and he apparently hadn’t changed much in terms of taste.

“Are you listening?” Garreth’s voice jolted you out of your snooping. You looked at him, shaking your head.

“I wasn’t, I’m sorry.” You said, your jaw still tight. Your wet clothes were extremely uncomfortable.

“I was saying that I’ll find you something dry to wear, just follow me.” He sounded equal parts amused and concerned. You nodded, and followed him up the narrow flight of stairs that led up to a loft. A four poster bed lay under the window, with a desk on one of the other walls and a large armoire across the room from the bed. The walls up here were much less bare, with the Gryffindor coat of arms hanging above the desk, and banners from different Quidditch clubs decorating the walls. He also had some artwork on the walls, including photos from school. You turned, and watched him open the doors to his armoire and dig through it looking for some dry clothing. He tossed a soft looking green jumper onto the bed, and dug around a little more before pulling out a pair of pyjama pants.

“Thank you.” You said, taking the pants out of his hand as he walked towards you. You set the pants on the bed next to the jumper. You were too cold and too uncomfortable to care that he was still in the room as you began to fumble to take off your soaked clothing. Garreth made a startled noise, whirling around and looking away from you.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked in a panicked tone.

“Don’t care. Too cold.” You mumbled, shedding your wet clothes onto the floor and pulling the jumper over your head. It was an immediate relief. It was massive, hanging almost to your knees, and so warm already. You pulled on the pyjama pants which were far too big for you. You took a step forward to pick up your wet belongings, and the pants promptly dropped right to your ankles making you giggle. Garreth turned around at the sound of your laugh, and saw the pyjama pants pooled at your feet.

“A little big, I suppose.” He said sheepishly. You waved him off, picking up the pants and putting them back onto the bed. You’d just go without, you were fully covered - what difference would it really make?

You took your wet clothes downstairs so he could get changed in peace. You pushed open the door to what you thought was the bathroom and were pleased to see you were right. Along one wall was a rope with some clothes already hanging to dry, you just added yours to the mix. You took a moment to towel dry your hair, before standing directly in front of the fire to capitalize on the pleasant heat with your eyes closed and hands outstretched.

“Enjoying yourself?” Garreth asked, and you nodded without opening your eyes. He chuckled and nudged you to the side so he could also capture some of the warmth of the fire. You blinked your eyes open, looking up at him. His hair hung in his eyes, messier than usual thanks to the rain. It was strangely intimate, seeing him in a comfy jumper and pyjama pants with wet hair. It was something so mundane, but it felt… personal. You forced your eyes back to the fire with a newfound determination to just never look at him ever again. Your eyes slowly closed again, this time from the day’s journey catching up with you. Garreth huffed another laugh, and hooked an arm around you to help you back up the stairs to his bedroom.

“You’re asleep on your feet, you can just sleep here.” He said, helping you sit down on his bed. You didn’t protest, allowing him to pull back the thick quilt while you made yourself comfortable. Garreth mumbled something about delivering the ingredients to Mr. Pippin, and he disappeared. In his absence, you couldn’t fight the sleep. You were so warm in his soft bed surrounded by the smell of him, and you drifted off to sleep.

There was no way to tell what time it was when you were startled awake by a loud clap of thunder.

“It’s only a storm.” Garreth’s voice came from the floor. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and blinking. The room wasn’t completely dark, the light from the fire downstairs gave the loft a dim light. As the blankets fell from your shoulders, you shivered against the cold air.

“What’re you doing on the floor?” You asked.

“You’re in the bed?” He said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. You rolled your eyes and beckoned towards him.

“Don’t be stupid, you wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want you to anyways.” You grumbled. Sleeping on the ground? You were adults, you could share a bed. You’d only bite if he asked, anyways. He stood up and sat down on the edge of the bed beside you. You absently reached out and fixed his hair so it wasn’t in his eyes. His eyes searched your face with a cautious expression.

“Am I a fool?” Garreth asked you suddenly, making you frown.

“A fool? What for?” You asked.

“For thinking that there is something to that look in your eyes. That there is some part of you who might want more,” Garreth’s hand closed around your arm and you stared at him stupidly, “there have been so many times I’ve wondered if I should just kiss you, or if it’s all a hopeless daydream. This past year without getting to see that look has been agony. I haven’t known if it was all in my head, if you were with Sallow or someone else, if I ever stood a chance.” An agonized look passed across his face in the dim lighting and he looked away from you. All of your breath left your body like you’d been punched in the chest. This day truly had taken a turn you’d never expected.

“Gar…” You murmured.

“A week ago, I’d thought that I could try to move on, and now you’re here. You’re in my house, you’re in my clothes, in my bed… I feel like I’m going mad.” His voice was thick with emotion, and his distress was visible. His hand left your arm. Garreth reached towards your face, but hesitated and started to pull his hand back. You took it and brought it to your cheek.

“I..” You opened your mouth, cursing your sleep-addled brain for being unable to come up with a reasonable response. You wanted to tell him how you felt about him. You wanted to tell him that you loved him, and you’d been hoping and wishing he’d say he felt the same about you. A flash of lightning showed Garreth’s pained expression as he awaited your response. There weren’t enough words in the world that could adequately describe the way he made you feel. You would rearrange all the stars in the sky if he asked you to, and you didn’t know how to tell him that.

“I love you.” You whispered instead, and watched as Garreth’s expression changed from stunned to bright as sunshine. You let out a gasp as he lunged forward and kissed you with so much fervor he knocked you onto your back. He pulled back and started to apologize, so you wrapped your arms around him and tugged him back down as you kissed him. Garreth’s strong arms held you tight against him. His kiss was sweet as honey, and you poured every drop of emotion you held into it. You might not be able to tell him how you feel, but you could certainly show him. As your tongue brushed against his lower lip, Garreth let out a groan that seemed to settle right between your legs. You wondered what other delightful noises he was capable of, arousal swiftly spreading through you.

You spread your legs a little bit, and he fell right between them with a surprised noise. He lifted his head a little, looking at you with a look of disbelief. You could see the want in his eyes, but you could also see the hesitation. You gently squeezed his waist with your bare thighs, and you could see his cheeks going an even darker red.

“I want you.” You whispered, tugging him down for another kiss. Garreth relented with a gleeful look in his eye, his hands gripping your hips holding you in place as he gently ground against you. He kissed you deeply, his tongue lazily exploring your mouth. His broad hands slowly moved under your borrowed jumper, stroking over your skin slowly and gently. The feeling of his skin against yours was heavenly, and he already had you wanting more. It was unfair that he had this effect on you.

“You have my heart, darling.” Garreth murmured against your lips, his fingers curling slightly into your skin. You couldn’t stop your smile, your heart beating just a little bit faster. You’d waited years to hear those words. Garreth’s lips trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He nipped gently at your pulse. His hands worked in time with his kisses, pushing up the jumper to expose more of your skin to him. Impatiently, you pushed him back a little bit and pulled it over your head, dumping it onto the floor. Garreth’s green eyes scanned you up and down, his jaw slack. You wondered if you’d caught him off guard by being completely bare under his jumper.

“You’re beautiful.” Garreth breathed out, his hands reverently running over your skin without restraint. Your back arched as his warm hands cupped your tight breasts, massaging you. The slight roughness to his hands made the most delightful sensations on your skin, you let out a small string of moans as he gently tweaked your already sensitive nipples. He continued to grind against you, becoming more breathless himself. You looked down, watching him work his hands over your skin. He moved them lower, and lower, making sure he touched every inch of your skin with his burning hands. You were panting now, wriggling under his touch as his hands smoothed over your belly and down onto your thighs. You ached for him, needing him to give you some sort of relief to the pressure that had built up between your legs. “Please, Garreth, touch me.” You whined out.

“I am touching you,” He said with his most charming grin, “I’ve wanted this for years, I intend to take my time.” He whispered in your ear, before giving your neck a sharp nip.

“Bastard.” You said, despite the smile that played on your lips.

“Do you have any idea what someone like you does to a teenage boy? Seeing you every day at school and not having you was torture” His tongue traced up your jaw and you whimpered. You captured his lips in another kiss, wondering if you could tempt him into giving you what you wanted. He groaned against your mouth at the feeling of your kiss, you pulled out all of your favourite tricks, proving to him you could do many things with your tongue. Your wicked little plan seemed to be working, until Garreth pulled back and looked at you with soft eyes. He began to press kisses all over your face. Your cheeks, the tip of your nose, oh-so-gently over your eyelids, and onto your forehead. He held your thighs in a bruising grip, contrasting with the sweet kisses that now were trailing down your jaw, onto your neck, then down your collar. You were a whining mess as he massaged circles on your inner thighs and kissed every part of your body until his lips hovered just below your belly button. His hands on your thighs tugged you so your lower half was dangling off the side of the bed.

“Please Garreth.” You whispered, certain you’d burst into flames if he didn’t do something. He looked up at you with hungry eyes, a smile playing at his lips.

“Anything for you.” He promised, getting on his knees and guiding your legs to rest on his shoulders. He held them in place and licked a firm stripe against your soaked, aching heat and moaned. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a loud moan of your own. He concentrated on your aching clit, his tongue swirling around it carefully before he gently wrapped his lips around you and sucked. You arched into him, crying out loudly because of this. He let out a hum of appreciation, squeezing your thighs. You propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. His eyes were closed, and his head dipped and you felt him tonguing at your soaking hole before he moved back up to latch onto your clit again. This time, his tongue flicked across your sensitive nub while he sucked it and you swore violently, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. Your hips bucked, and he planted one of his hands on your belly to firmly hold you in place. Your core tightened, pressure building inside of you as he kept up the same motion.

“I’m– Oh Merlin– That’s…” You couldn’t string a sentence together, and the pressure reached its peak and you cried out as a mind-shattering orgasm crashed over you. Your thighs clenched tight around Garreth, and he let out a moan that added to the sensation of his tongue and lips while you rode out your orgasm on his face. He only stopped when your legs twitched, and he was laughing softly as he pulled away from you. You stared at him, your jaw slack. He was a mess, and he was beautiful. The lower half of his face was shining with your slick, his cheeks flushed, and his smile was more than a little arrogant. Your eyes scanned down his body to the bulge in his pants, and then back up to his face. Another flash of lightning lit up the room, almost reminding you to move. You pushed yourself back enough that you could sit up and reach out for him.

“You, taste amazing.” Garreth murmured to you, stepping in closer so you could reach him. You palmed the bulge in his pants, and he let out a flustered breath. You hadn’t the patience to toy with him, that would have to come another day. You wanted him inside of you now. You pulled his pants down, looking up at him while you did so. His thick cock sprang out, and you let out a little eager whimper at just the thought of him being inside of you. You looked up at him, and he was watching you with love and hunger in his eyes.

“Come here.” You said, pushing yourself back on the bed and spreading your legs a little bit in invitation. Garreth flashed you an eager smile, pulling his shirt over his head and dumping it on the floor. He stepped out of his pants and crawled onto the bed between your legs. You wrap your arms behind his neck, and lick from his chin up to his cheek tasting yourself on his skin. Garreth let out a strangled moan, and tilted his head to capture you in a scorching kiss. You can almost feel that he’s reached his limit, and now he needs reprieve from his aching arousal. He grinds into you, his head dropping as he does so. You reach down, and guide him to what he seems to be so desperate to have.

“Oh fuck.” Garreth hisses as he slowly presses into you, his teeth gently clamping down on your shoulder. You couldn’t even make a noise as your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation of Garreth’s thick cock stretching you out. As he fully sheathed himself in you, he stopped moving.

He lifted his head, looking down into your eyes. His adoration was clear in his eyes, and it caught you a little off-guard. You’d taken men to bed before, but not once had it been someone you loved. This emotional connection you felt to Garreth… It made this feel so much… more.

“I love you, Garreth.” You reached up and traced your fingers along his jaw. Garreth’s hips began to roll slowly, and he gave you a sweet kiss. He thrust into you with a slow and deep rhythm that had you whining and clawing at his back. The delicious way he stretched you out, paired with the way his pelvis ground against your sensitive nub had you in ecstasy. He clearly felt the same, with the pants and quiet moans that escaped his lips at every movement he made.

“You feel amazing, Darling,” Garreth whispered to you, “You take me so well. You’re perfect.” He continued with his little praises as he ground into you. He picked up his pace ever so slightly, the steady thrusts had you clenching around his cock already. His forehead dipped and pressed against yours, his hands on your hips as he pulled you against him to get as deep as he could. You planted your feet on the mattress, lifting your hips to help get a new angle. Garreth’s groan was sinful, he sat back on his knees and abruptly began to pound into you. Your eyes rolled back, your pleasure peaking again.

“Right there, shit… right there.” You panted out, and Garreth obliged your wishes. You screamed out his name as your knees buckled and you came hard. The bolts of pleasure had your eyes screwed shut and your mouth making incoherent sounds. He caught you by the waist, holding you up as your walls pulsed over his cock. He fucked you, his groans becoming more and more guttural as he chased his own pleasure. His grip on you tightened almost painfully as his head fell back and he came, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. He allowed you to fall back on the bed now, flopping down beside you. For a long time, the only sounds in the room were the storm still raging outside and the sounds of you and Garreth trying to catch your breath. Eventually, you got enough energy to roll over and nestle into Garreth’s side, with your head on his chest. You stretched up and kissed his jaw, and his arms wrapped around you.

“I don’t want morning to come.” Garreth said, his voice soft. Morning meant returning to reality. Garreth would have to go to work, and you’d have to return to Feldcroft.

“Mmm, neither do I.” You agreed. You didn’t want to leave. You knew that you’d made a promise to take care of Anne, but she was spending so much time in London these days that you almost wondered if she would just move in with Ominis and Sebastian.

“Please don’t ever leave…” He said.

“I’ll have to get my things.”

“That’s alright, I’ll help you with that. Mr. Pippin won’t mind if I take a couple days off.”

“And I’ll have to tell Anne.”

“I’ll write a letter to send by owl right now.” “And then there’s the matter of you meeting my parents…”

When Garreth didn’t have a quick solution for that, you let out a little laugh. You would stay, regardless of how much work you’d have to do. You never wanted to leave his side again.

“Will you stay?” He asked.

“I’m not going anywhere, Garreth. I’m staying right here.” You promised, kissing his cheek. With a cheeky grin, he rolled over and loomed over you and captured you in a deep kiss, his hand smoothing along your waist. Yes, you’d stay.

#garreth weasley #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x you #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley smut #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley one shot #hogwarts legacy one shot #m/f pair

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slytherinsallows · 6 months

Text

What the Hogwarts Legacy Boys Would be like 🌶️18+!!

(These are just my personal headcanons based off their personalities)

Sebastian Sallow

☆ Very needy and can be rough, depending on how sexually frustrated he is.

☆ LOVES to watch when he has you from behind, and grips tightly on your waist while your ass bounces.

☆ Also loves to watch you ride him, regular and reverse. He loves the way your 🐱grips onto him and it makes him finish so fast.

☆ If you don't finish he loves to finger you and eat you out, he's really good at both and loves to watch you grasp the bedsheets as you scream, with nothing but a smirk on his face.

☆ 1000% a dom, I don't think I even need to say that he loves having his control over you.

☆ He'll easily go 4,5 times a night without tiring, just letting his pure drive to fuck you and make you his take over him.

☆ Loves to leave marks all over you, thighs, neck, hell anything he can get his teeth on.

☆ His eye contact his everything.

Ominis Gaunt

☆ VERY sensual and a massive fan of foreplay.

☆ He'll get you to the point where you just want him to take you but he's too interested in kissing every part of your skin and feeling every crevice of your body.

☆ Once he finally puts it in he's a moaning mess, as he's super sensitive. Despite that he can last a while and his main objective is to make you finish and feel amazing.

☆ Loves missionary as he craves the feeling of being as close as possible to you, once he cums in that position he just lays on top for a while with his cock still in, taking a while to come down while enjoying the moment.

☆ King of aftercare, whispering how good you were and how much he loves you until you fall asleep.

Garreth Weasley

☆ Is so obsessed with the way your 🐱 feels around him he doesn't tend to last very long at all... his thrusts are always sloppy and needy, always desperate to cum in you because you feel too good to him.

☆ If he doesn't make you cum he'll take you again or eat you out, trying not to cum again so you can.

☆ He loves to experiment with you, and will literally try (almost) anything. DEFINITELY whimpers.

☆ He loves getting head from you as well, and calling you slutty names as you do it.

☆ Given you a facial one too many times, watching his cum drip down your lips is enough to make him melt.

☆ He loves getting his hair pulled when he's ontop, it drives him crazy and just makes it harder for him not to release ~

Hope you liked it lmk your thoughts 👀

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x reader #garreth weasley #hlboys #sebastian sallow smut #ominis gaunt smut #garreth weasley smut #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanfiction

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cuffmeinblack · 8 months

Text

Dreamful Sleep

Garreth Weasley x f!reader

Tags: explicit | fluff | sex | friends to lovers

3.5k words

Summary: Garreth's habit of sleepwalking is driving his friends and roommates insane, until you start to find him in the midst of his dreaming.

A/n: Well, I do love a little fluff, some first-time smut, Garreth being Garreth. Nothing new or revolutionary here, just some good times with the most beautiful redheaded boy. I just love him.

ao3 link

Another night, another morning waking up surrounded by books, bottles and sweets strewn across the bed and the disgruntled mutterings of his roommates. Garreth never remembered his nighttime escapades, he was simply too deeply asleep to be aware of what he was doing. From his friends' recollections, it seemed as if he'd been trying to get out of the dormitory—his ultimate destination, he couldn't say, as he was usually swiftly bundled back into bed as soon as the commotion roused his slumbering roommates.

They'd threatened to tie him up if he didn't stop his mischief, but Garreth simply couldn't help it, nor offer an explanation. Weeks later, he'd woken in the common room to the sound of a shrill yelp, rattling his brain and piercing his ear drums; frankly, he was surprised the entire house wasn't woken. His blurry vision eventually focused on Nellie's horrified face, and the reason she'd let out such an ear piercing sound soon dawned on him. He told himself that it was time he started wearing more clothes to bed.

Whenever he dreamed, he rarely remembered the subject, though they often felt…familiar. Comforting, even. He had vague recollections of a friend and their piercing eyes and warm smile, though ultimately he’d never stayed asleep long enough for the stories to come to a conclusion. Part of him was curious, part terrified at what his unconscious body walking about the castle could accomplish.

“You know I’m going to start hexing you in the night,” Leander grumbled as he pulled his shirt on the wrong way round.

“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help it,” Garreth apologised for what must have been the tenth time that week.

“Fine, what about Incarcerous?”

“I’m pretty sure that spell’s banned at Hogwarts,” Garreth grumbled.

Maybe being tied up wouldn’t be so bad, if it did come to that. It wasn’t worth thinking about for now—in fact, it wasn’t worth thinking about anything, given how tired he was. Leander seemed to be thinking the same as he dropped the nagging much quicker than usual, shuffling his clothes around the right way on his torso with an irritated frown.

You'd heard about Garreth's sleepwalking, and the endless recountings of Nellie's encounter that made you blush at the mere thought, but nothing had prepared you for coming face to face with him in the midst of his dreaming. The strangest sound lured you from your sleep; at first you thought it a remnant from your dream, until you heard it again.

Whoosh.

Thump.

Bundling yourself into your robe, you groped around the nightstand for your wand before heading out of the dormitory on softly padding feet. Silence engulfed you as you left your roommates' soft snores behind with the creak of a hinge and click of a latch. No more whooshing or thumping came from the room below. Still, it was worth investigating, and your first clue was the staircase which was no longer a staircase. Your heart pounded with shock as your foot connected with nothing underneath you, pulling yourself back at the last second with a wobble.

You'd almost fallen down the slippery slope in your haste, and the disappearance of the stairs could only mean one thing; a boy had tried climbing them to gain access to the girls' dormitories. Curious and slightly scandalised, you bunched up your nightdress and robe and sat on the landing, shuffling off to let gravity pull you down the slide. It took a lot of self restraint not to cheer as you whooshed down to the common room, landing on the carpeted floor with a thump, right next to Garreth.

Righting yourself, you opened your mouth to apologise for the near-collision but halted as you realised the redhead was fast asleep. Thank Merlin he was also wearing pyjamas this time; in fact, he looked perfectly cosy laying bundled on the floor in his baggy cotton ensemble, his eyelashes fluttering ever so slightly as his eyes darted beneath his lids. He was obviously dreaming again, the way his mouth moved almost imperceptibly and muscles twitched—whatever the narrative taking place, it had brought a smile to his face.

A minute or so must have passed since you were left crumpled on the floor next to Garreth, and all you'd achieved so far was to stare at his sleeping form. Brought out of your reverie by the scraping of stone as the staircase rebuilt itself, your skin flushed at the thought of having been so engrossed by your friend whilst he slept, though nobody conscious was around to witness it. You supposed you ought to wake him, as cruel as it seemed, so you reached out to place a hand on his arm, noticing how very warm he was.

Garreth shuffled slightly in his sleep, humming happily at the contact, and a heavy lurch of your stomach caught you off guard as you looked down at him. Regretfully, you squeezed his arm to rouse him, watching as he blinked rapidly to reveal dilated pupils, staring up at you with confusion etched on his freckled face.

"Hey, Gar," you said gently.

"Wha-...what am I doing here?" he mumbled.

He looked like a sleepy puppy as he propped himself up on his elbow, taking stock of his surroundings with bleary eyes and mussed hair. Even the little pout pulling at his lips was adorable. You put the thoughts down to your sleep deprivation and stood up, holding out a hand.

"You were sleepwalking again. Come on, let's get you back to bed."

"Mmmnh…I've never made it this far. How did you find me?" he asked, accepting your outstretched hand.

"I heard you. You erm…fell down the stairs."

"Well that explains a lot," he grumbled, rubbing a hand over his bum.

Never having witnessed him half-asleep before, his amateur dramatics were downright amusing. Endearing, even. You had the urge to ruffle his already displaced hair and shockingly, kiss his flushed cheeks. Instead, you gave him a pat on the back and guided him by the elbow towards the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Once he'd said his thanks and disappeared out of sight, you trudged back to your own bed and fell asleep to the idea of being enveloped by Garreth's warmth.

The constant sleepwalking has taken its toll on not only Garreth, but his roommates and even you. Seemingly attuned to his clumsy attempts at gaining access to where he shouldn't be, if he made it as far as the staircase you were inevitably the one who found him in the dead of night. Leander looked more drawn by the day, furious with his best friend's antics and threatening him with a draught of living death. He'd even gone to Nurse Blainey, who had ruled out dreamless sleep potions as a cure for the wandering; apparently all it would achieve would be to wipe his recollection of the dreams come morning, not stop the sleepwalking altogether.

After a busy day of back to back double lessons, you were already flagging only a few hours after dinner. Trying to concentrate on a book, your eyes slid in and out of focus, the words becoming a garbled mess the longer you tried. After the fifth attempt at reading the same sentence you gave up, discarding the book and allowing your neck to slacken, head lolling to the side. Just a few minutes to rest your eyes then you'd try again, you told yourself—it was just a little eye strain.

By the time you woke, the sky outside the windows was an inky black flecked with light from distant stars, the fire no longer roaring and leaving the room cold and empty. Apparently nobody had bothered to wake you, likely deciding you needed the rest, but someone had draped a robe over you at some point. There also appeared to be a heavy weight pressed on your thighs, and as you became more lucid, you noticed the silken texture between your fingers and a familiar scent from the robe laid against your chest.

Sitting up from your awkward sleeping position with a flex of your stiff neck, you peered down into your lap to see Garreth sleeping soundly with your hand tangled in his hair. A slight panic rattled your brain, the urge to whip your hand away losing to the much stronger desire to smooth the strands under your thumb. The dim light from the candles and celestial bodies danced across his face, illuminating his fiery mane as you stroked slowly, gently. You also noticed a tiny dribble of drool forming at his mouth, making you smirk before your thoughts were preoccupied by just how plump and inviting his lips looked.

You shuffled slightly, trying to get a little more comfortable, the movement dislodging the robe from your shoulder as the slightly burnt smell of cinders, cinnamon and butterbeer hit you. A smile tugged at your lips at the unmistakeable mixture you'd come to associate with friendship, comfort, joy and something else you hadn't quite figured out yet. With a furtive look around the room—though you knew you were alone except the sleeping beauty on your lap—you picked up a handful of the robe, bringing it to your nose and inhaling deeply. The smell of Garreth flooded your nostrils, eliciting all sorts of confusing feelings; some entirely innocent, some not.

You thought he must wake soon—surely he was due another sleepwalk. The clock on the wall ticked by, your own sleep now broken and filled with distracting thoughts of the boy laying beneath you. Midnight came and went; two o' clock, four o'clock, too, until dawn was upon you with the first birdsong and golden rays flooding the common room. You didn't have the heart to move him when he slept so soundly, sacrificing your own restfulness for his. Another hour passed by, by which point you'd picked up the book you'd discarded hours before, reading in the steadily intensifying light. Students would be waking soon, and whilst you knew your current predicament meant nothing, absolutely nothing, your classmates might use the scene as a source for gossip.

"Garreth," you whispered.

No response.

"Gar, wake up," you said, louder this time.

He groaned, eyebrows pinching into a frown before his eyes flew open wide to meet yours, like a deer caught in Lumos. Visibly flustered, he awkwardly cleared his throat and flashed you a wide smile from your lap, making no attempt to move. You wished he would—the vantage point couldn’t have made for a particularly flattering angle.

“Morning,” he croaked, wiping the sleep from his emerald eyes. “Did I get up in the night?”

“No, actually. You slept through, which is why I didn’t wake you,” you replied, yawning widely.

Garreth frowned, finally leaving his resting place on your thighs, now ever so slightly numb but nevertheless missing his presence.

“Huh. Maybe I was just trying to get to you all along," he said with a soft smile.

You laughed, presuming he'd been joking, but his eyes locked on yours with an intensity you'd never seen before.

"What, really?"

"I think my subconscious has been trying to tell me something," he nodded.

He said something along the lines of miss you, but the pounding of your heart dulled your hearing.

"Why…why would you miss me?"

"I said can I kiss you?" he chuckled.

Before you’d had time to process his question, your head had nodded of its own accord and Garreth’s lips had pressed against yours. You exchanged soft, exploratory kisses, though he already felt so familiar and utterly perfect. With a tilt of your head, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, drawing a moan from you that he echoed. Every noise he made sent a throb of desire south, the tension you’d barely noticed between you now unravelling with a fervour that seemed impossible to stop.

He was pushing you back on the sofa before long, pressing his body between your legs with an unexpected confidence that had you reeling—clearly he knew what he wanted, and the way your body responded told him plainly that you wanted the same. You clasped his head in your hands and kissed him hard, desperately trying to convey your feelings wordlessly. This wasn’t a tentative fling you’d come to regret, this was years of close friendship and unresolved sexual tension pouring out.

Garreth growled as you kissed him, a low rumble from deep in his throat that pulled at something equally as animalistic in you. He rolled against you, the friction a welcome relief that you met with a shift of your hips. His already stiff cock found that sweet spot and had you sighing for more, both lost in the feverish grinding against one another’s clothed bodies. As good as it felt, this would never be enough—now you had a taste, you wanted all of him; every inch of his freckled body pressed against your skin until there was no space between you, not even a hair’s breadth.

"Gar…"

"Hm?" his muffled reply came as he buried his face against your neck.

"Fucking hell, take me upstairs."

The request came out as an order and without a second's hesitation, Garreth scrambled off of you, helping you to your feet far too fast. Your head swam as you followed him to his dormitory, praying that you wouldn't meet any early risers on the way. So far so good, you thought as you climbed the stairs, but your luck ran out as soon as Garreth pushed open the door. Leander. Still dressed in pyjamas and loosely clutching a wash bag, his attention turned to his roommate as soon as the hinges stopped creaking. An awkward silence followed when he spotted you; flushed, dishevelled and wearing yesterday's clothes.

Of all the reactions you'd anticipated in that short, agonising moment, Leander surprised you by having none of them. No gaping mouth, spluttering or endless questions—he merely looked between the two of you and nodded; in resignation or approval, it didn't particularly matter. You were sequestered away behind the curtains of Garreth's bed before Leander had reached the door, taking care to cast a silencing charm before Garreth's mouth claimed yours again, greedier than ever. The charm and privacy had thrown all inhibitions to the wayside as you both audibly, loudly, proclaimed your approval of each other.

Between searing kisses that had your insides squirming and heart fluttering, you both got to work mindlessly ridding the other of their clothes. A groan almost left your mouth as his shirt fell off his broad shoulders, your eyes flying open to drink in the sight of him—a sight you'd only dared ponder and dream of before now. He really did have freckles everywhere, and the overwhelming urge to kiss every one almost won your attention, until he peeled off your underwear. Breeches still on, he didn't let you rid him of the last scrap of clothing before his head had delved between your legs with shocking swiftness.

"Gar, what are you…?"

Your question was cut short by his rough manhandling of your legs, flinging them over his shoulders and gripping your thighs as his mouth found your aching heat. The wet warmth of his tongue was lost amongst your own heated arousal, but the pressure against your swollen clit sent your head spinning. You ought to have been embarrassed at how soaked you were already, but Garreth seemed to appreciate every last drop with loud groans as he lapped between your folds. The flick of the tip of his tongue against your nub sent shivers across your body to every extremity, or perhaps it had been the way he stared at you whilst he did so. Those piercing green eyes under hooded lids were the most addictive sight—you couldn't look away from him, seemingly drunk with pleasure from your juices.

He had no right being so talented with his tongue, whether from experience or outright enthusiasm—either way, your orgasm built steadily under his caress. A string of endless praise and expletives left your mouth, spurring him on to flick and twirl his tongue faster, his salacious moans growing louder still, until finally reaching a crescendo with your climax. What might have been the most mind-altering release you'd ever experienced ripped through your body, leaving your limbs shuddering and ears ringing.

"Garreth, that was…amazing…"

His blurry figure appeared above you, and you noticed your eyes were pricked with tears. It was like looking up at him from the bottom of a lake, his copper locks swimming into your vision with the sound of fabric rustling.

"I want you…all of you," his gravelly voice said, dripping with lust.

His hands gripped your thighs as you wiped away the tears, peering down to see him knelt between your legs, completely naked. Great Merlin, he'd been hiding that beneath his tattered robes all this time? The times you'd gripped his arm to walk with him or slapped his back jovially came to mind; you knew he was broad, muscular, but he was truly delicious. Especially those thick thighs that braced against your own as he gently stroked his impressive length. You couldn't suppress a gulp as you took the sight of that in; uncut, pink and throbbing with desire, you could have happily watched him play with himself and welcomed his release with an open mouth.

But he had other plans for you. His fingers gripped your chin, tilting your face towards him as your eyes dragged lazily away from his cock.

"Eyes up here, darling."

Good grief, Garreth Weasley would be the end of you. You offered a silent prayer as he towered over you, guiding the tip of his cock towards your entrance. You laced your fingers through his hair, looking into his eyes as he pushed himself inside you slowly, carefully, allowing you time to adjust to his size. A deep inhale and exhale and your body relaxed around him, leaving you with a satisfying sensation of fullness.

"Gods, you feel good," you whispered.

"Yeah?" he asked, pushing himself deeper than you thought possible whilst drawing your legs up closer to your chest. "How about that?"

"Fuck, yes!"

The first thrust had you moaning, the second had you begging for more as you tugged on his hair, now thoroughly dishevelled with strands plastered to his glistening forehead. His musky scent was intoxicating, mixed with his usual Garreth smell and the heady mixture of arousal made something you’d remember and crave again and again. Pulling him down on top of you, your eye contact finally broke as your lips crashed together in a kiss that meant much more than you would care to admit.

His pace was slow and steady but every roll of his hips hit you deep, precise, hard. He was holding back, prolonging the pleasure as long as possible. You had the sneaking suspicion that Garreth could easily pick you up and fuck you senseless in any position he wanted, the way his biceps flexed and rippled underneath him. With his weight borne on one arm, his other was free to roam your body, large hands gripping your flesh greedily in time to his powerful thrusts.

He skimmed your breast, a thumb and forefinger pinching the peak, drawing a surprised yelp that muffled against his smirking lips. Well, if that’s how he wanted to play. Abandoning his hair, your fingers flexed as they drew down his back, nails dragging across the skin in a way you were sure would leave welts and a little blood to remember you by. Garreth groaned, his hips twitching in response and plunging harder back into you.

“Oh shit…,” you gasped.

“Do it again.”

You complied, a little harder this time, and Garreth quickened his pace with gasping moans by your ear that sent shivers across your entire body. Again and again he pounded into you as you marked up his back and grabbed handfuls of him anywhere you could. A sharp smack on his arse sent him over the edge, and he bit down hard on your neck as he came. He gave no warning, his release spilling inside you in shuddering pulses as he clung to you tightly, muttering your name between kisses to your sore skin.

“Gar…,” you sighed, nuzzling his cheek as his rhythm slowed, his orgasm ebbing away.

Laying underneath his warmth, arms and legs wrapping his body was a comfort you’d never experienced, and you stroked his hair and kissed every freckle you could reach on his face. Garreth grinned, his eyes now hazy, almost drunk, as if he could happily go back to sleep wrapped in your embrace.

“Good morning,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Good morning,” you chuckled back.

Garreth nuzzled his face back against your neck, kissing his claim on you with gentleness.

“You know…if you want our friends to keep their sanity, I think you’ll have to sleep with me from now on,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Is that so? I’m not sure that’s a proper thing for friends to do.”

“I thought it was obvious—this was me asking you out!”

“Ah, well then, this is me accepting,” you replied, pulling him into a deep kiss that made you very late for breakfast.

#weasley wednesday #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x you #garreth weasley smut

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eternalremorse · 9 months

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How I imagine the HL crew are as intimate lovers

🔞⚠️ MDNI - aged up 18+ ⚠️🔞

1. Sebastian Sallow - Passionate

2. Ominis Gaunt - Sensual

3. Garreth Weasley - Playful

4. Natsai Onai - Cherished

5. Poppy Sweeting - Romantic

6. Leander Prewett - Charming

7. Amit Thakkar - Tender

8. Imelda Reyes - Fiesty

9. Everett Clopton - Submissive

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mamalunawolf · 5 months

Text

Foursome

Sebastian x Garreth x Ominis x F!MC

Headphones 🎧 recommend.

Oh no... Seems like mc got stuck with the Hogwarts Legacy men inside the room of requirements. Sebastian tied her up and now all three men have decided it was high time to get their share. The only reason you see their faces and then afterwards it is straight black. Is because you are mc. You are blindfold. Just.. take your imagination elsewhere.

They are ALL aged up. 18 years and older. Spicy content ahead.

Mature content no minors allowed 🔞

Underneath this bad boy is the video. Enjoy lovelies.

#hogwarts oc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis x y/n #sebastian sallow #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow smut #garreth x you #garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy garreth #garreth weasley smut #ominis smut #ominis gaunt hogwarts legacy

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radical-ghostface · 9 months

Text

How I think the Hogwarts Legacy boys would kiss you

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Sebastian~

Ominis~

Garreth~

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writing-intheundercroft · 6 months

Text

Tis the Damn Season - Garreth Weasley

Read on AO3

Word Count: 4,145

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, Oral and Vaginal Sex, NSFW, MDNI

Summary: You're back from five years of traveling the world and living in America, and Garreth Weasley invites you on a foraging trip down to his family cottage in Cornwall. You accept, having regretted not sharing your feelings when you last said goodbye. Or, the origin story of the Weasley knitted sweaters.

A/N: An exercise in writing smut turned into a delicious one shot for Garreth. I've clearly been listening to too much Taylor Swift.

“Welcome home!” Leonora giggled, over the sound of merriment in the Leaky Cauldron. The class of 1893 was celebrating their five year reunion, with almost all of the graduates in attendance. Sebastian and Ominis had decided to sit out the reunion, staying at your shared home in New York, sending their well wishes with you as you boarded an ocean liner back to London. Cross-Atlantic apparition had never been your thing.

“I’m glad to be back,” you smiled honestly. London had never really been home, not really. You’d landed in a shared flat with the boys for a month after graduation before embarking on your world tour, but you hadn’t stayed long enough to make it feel like home.

Leonora and Poppy started detailing the whereabouts and day to day lives of your classmates. Violet McDowell had married, as had Grace Pinch-Smedley. Duncan Hobhouse was still painfully single and afraid of not just puffskeins, but now nifflers too after an incident with Amit Thakkar at the bank. Leander Prewett was still gangly, and proudly wearing his ministry of magic badge for all to see.

“Oh, and Garreth–I’m sure you heard about him and Samantha Dale,” Leonora giggled, pointing across the room.

Your heart sank as you thought of him. If you had wanted to know who Garreth had been dating while you were away, you would’ve brought it up yourself–now, you had to face the burning jealousy that bubbled in your throat as you thought of the pretty Ravenclaw who currently had her hand placed on his forearm.

Poppy sensed your emotions, elbowing Leonora to stop. “They broke up,” she cooed softly. “Months ago. They’re just friends now.” Poppy cradled her swelling stomach, your future niece or nephew growing inside.

“Good for them,” you said blithely, trying to feign indifference.

“He’s coming over here.” Leonora whispered.

You adjusted your skirt as Garreth cheerfully bounced over, red waves crashing over his head. He’d grown since you last saw him, thicker and sturdier than the stocky teenager you’d last seen. No wonder Samantha Dale had been interested in him, you thought. He was impossibly handsome, with emerald green eyes that shined at whoever he spoke with.

“You’re monopolizing our New Yorker,” Garreth announced, cheeks tinged pink from the alcohol.

“Excuse us, then.” Poppy grinned, winking at you as she tugged Leonora away.

You smiled at your Gryffindor friend, who leaned against the bar next to you. “Are you having fun?”

He nodded eagerly. “It’s good to be back together again, you included.” he nudged. “I wish we could spend more time together before you go home.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” You asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“Taking a trip down to my family’s cottage in Cornwall,” he sighed. “I need to gather some more horklumps for my potions.” Garreth took a lengthy sip from his beer, but his eyes never left yours. “How about you come with me? Been a while since we had an adventure.”

You blushed. “Are you sure I won’t just get in your way?”

Garreth smiled earnestly at you. “Anything to spend a little extra time with you.”

So, you agreed. Garreth spent the rest of the evening by your side; you felt smug when Samantha Dale stared at the two of you, and the little bubble of regret in your heart grew when Garreth leaned against you. It had been five years since you’d said goodbye, and you wished you’d been honest about your feelings with him the day you both left Hogwarts.

Instead, he’d given the back of your hand a chaste kiss, letting you go for the last time.

“Don’t mind the dust,” Garreth advised, pushing the door in. “Mum usually cleans up before we all get in for the holidays.”

You peered over his shoulder as he guided you into the cottage. It was dark, clearly uninhabited over the colder months. You settled the bag of horklumps the two of you had foraged on the wooden table as he walked around the kitchen, lighting candles. Waves crashed outside the walls of the cottage; you imagined how this place might look during the summer time. Visions of Garreth and his many siblings running around the beach flashed in your head, leaving a lump in your throat.

“There,” Garreth said proudly, assessing the lighting situation. “And we can start a fire in the living room. Will probably be too cold to sleep upstairs anyways.” He led you to the living room, a small den with two loveseats opposite one another, and a stone fireplace in the center.

“You just had to drag me on a foraging trip before a snow storm,” you teased.

“What can I say? You’re an awfully great helper,” Garreth said sweetly, casting his wand at the fireplace. It lit up beautifully, and the room started to warm.

You hadn’t seen Garreth since you and your Slytherin boys had left school for a worldwide tour at eighteen. Eighteen became nineteen, and then twenty. Suddenly, London no longer felt like home, and the boys wanted to go to America. You’d tagged along, their third wheel as you’d been all throughout your Hogwarts years, because there was no one else in London for you; why not experience New York?

Correspondence from your classmates steadily declined as you all got older and busier. Some had started families (Poppy was pregnant with her first child already) and others were dominating their careers (Imelda was quick on her way to captain of the Holyhead Harpies at twenty three).

Only one remained constant.

Garreth Weasley never stopped writing it seemed. A letter once a week; two in one week if he missed an owl. You shared your adventures, and Garreth told stories of the little potions stand he’d opened in Diagon Alley. It wasn’t glamorous, he wrote, but it paid a living, and he was finally able to move out of his family home and into a modest flat he shared with Lucan Brattleby. Garreth was the one who’d arranged the five year reunion, right before Christmas time. He had convinced you to attend when Sebastian and Ominis declined, claiming everyone would be glad to see you. He was there to pick you up from the dock when you landed, and had escorted you to the room you were renting for the week at the Leaky Cauldron.

Garreth–the sweetest Gryffindor you’d ever known.

“You alright?” Garreth asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. He stood before you with stacks of woolen blankets in his arms.

“I’m fine,” you uttered. “Just thinking,” you shrugged, grabbing some of the blankets to spread on the loveseat. Garreth did the same, setting the one opposite you, and your heart sank into your stomach.

Why had Garreth invited you to Cornwall? Was it really just to forage the finest horklumps for his potions? You’d assumed that he wanted to get you alone, and that you could finally confess your long held feelings for him. Instead, he’d made you stomp through the brutally wet weather, stashing the spiky bastards in your bags for his famed wiggenweld brews. Your heart had done flips when he assessed the weather, claiming it was too cold and too far to apparate back to London. He’d offered up the Weasley family’s summer home for the night, claiming the two of you could catch up over a bottle of firewhiskey instead of trekking home in the snow. You felt that familiar warmth in the lower part of your belly when Garreth held you by the waist as you walked down the dune towards Shell Cottage.

You’d only spent the last six years of your life dreaming of a night spent with Garreth Weasley, after all, and now he was tucking the sheets onto the couch opposite of you, preparing for an innocent sleepover. You couldn’t help the flutter of disappointment, both emotionally and sexually.

“Well I think we should drink, and then we can properly catch up, just the two of us.” Garreth announced. “Be right back.”

You let out a hot puff of air, sinking to your knees in front of the fireplace. So much for seducing him, you thought.

Garreth returned with two glasses and a near full bottle of firewhiskey. He landed on his arse next to you and you smiled, remembering the clumsy, boisterous teenage boy he’d been when you last saw him. That boy seemed to live inside this grown adult–all muscle, shaggy hair, and hints of red scruff on his chin. He pushed his hair back as he held up his glass to yours, clinking them softly. You caught up on everything you’d missed in the past five years; how Leander was still his best friend, despite being an annoyance, and how Lucan was a messy roommate. You told him about your travels around the world, how Ominis snored, and Sebastian was a terrible cook.

“How is Samantha Dale?” You asked, breaking the ice. “I heard you two dated.

Garreth chewed on his lower lip. “Not very long, I’m afraid. We didn’t have much in common.” he wrinkled his nose.

“Oh,” you said softly. He seemed to want to leave it at that.

“How are Sebastian and Ominis?” Garreth asked tentatively.

You rolled your eyes. “Still a pain in my arse, after all these years. I love them, but I’m not sure how much longer I can live with them.” You sighed.

Garreth snorted. “You’re the one who chose to follow them.”

You hummed quietly, knowing he was right.

“Is it weird?” Garreth asked after a long sip. “Living with Ominis when you and Sebastian are together?” He was looking down at his glass, avoiding eye contact.

You sputtered the firewhiskey, coughing at the thought. “Me? With Sebastian?” You wheezed.

Garreth knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. “Well, yeah. Because you’re together, aren’t you?”

You laughed, and then laughed some more. Tears were coming out of your eyes while Garreth gaped at you, eyes wide as saucers.

“How could you think Sebastian and I are together?” You wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater, chuckling.

Garreth’s face was red. “I–we–everyone assumed! You two were attached at the hip, and there was a rumor you two…” he trailed off, face as red as a tomato.

“A rumor that we what?” You demanded.

“That you two had slept together in seventh year.” Garreth said sheepishly. “Leander told me.”

“Ah, yes. Well, that was a lie,” you chuffed. “I was only covering for him and someone else. It was easier to let everyone think I was slag than for them to face the criticism.”

Garreth cocked his head. “What? Who?”

You leaned back onto the carpet. “Let’s just say Sebastian and I have very different taste in sexual partners. For example, I prefer men who are actually into me. And two, Sebastian prefers Ominis.”

Garreth stared at you, blinking as he put two and two together. The blank look on his face disappeared, eyes widening in shock as he blushed.

“What…oh… oh .” he stuttered. “Wow. I mean, I guess that makes a ton of sense. Good for them.”

You grinned, laying back on the floor with the glass balanced on your stomach. “Yeah, the two of them are pretty happy together. I think they’ll get married soon. Bit loud, for roommates though. I’ve been looking to find my own place.”

Garreth rolled onto his stomach, leaning his head on his hands as he laid next to you on the ground. “In New York?”

“New York, Paris, Buenos Aires…Madrid, Rome, or Berlin. I could go anywhere in the world,” you declared, stretching out. “I’m a nomad now.”

“Not London?” Garreth asked softly.

You tilted your head to look at the redhead next to you. His eyes were glistening, a perfect pout as he frowned at your list of locations. You fought the urge to brush his fiery hair out of his eyes.

“I’d come back to London,” you echo, “If there was something here for me.”

“Your friends are here,” Garreth reminded you. “Poppy, Imelda, Natty.”

“Poppy is about to have a baby,” you remind him in return. “Imelda is busy with Quidditch, and Natty splits her time between London and Matabeleland. There’s really no one else.”

“What about me?” Garreth’s voice was small. “I’m here.”

You dig your face into the carpet, hiding the blush that crept up your face. “You’re busy with the shop. I wouldn’t want to be in your way.”

Garreth suddenly pulled you close, his large hand traveling up to cradle your chin so you couldn’t hide your face. “You’d never be in my way.” he said firmly.

“I’m sure no woman would want me constantly hanging around you either,” you breathed.

His eyes flitted down to your lips. “I think you can tell from the way we’re sitting, there won’t be any other women,” he whispered. His thumb ran over your lips, pressing against your pout. Garreth rolled you onto your back, hovering over your body as he slotted a knee between your legs.

“You put the blankets on the other loveseat,” you whisper. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

“Because I wanted to be respectful,” Garreth added, brushing his nose against yours. “I’ve been thinking you were with Sallow for years , when I could’ve been doing this.” Garreth’s lips brushed against yours sweetly. “Fuck Leander–I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him.”

You gave a breathy laugh, putting an arm around his neck. “Yes, well, Prewett can fuck off.”

Garreth gulped. “I watched you leave, all those years ago, because I thought you were in love with Sebastian. I thought so long as you were happy, I’d be happy for you.”

“No,” you breathed in sharply. “I was in love with you .”

Garreth wasted no time pressing the weight of his body against yours. You moaned into his mouth, letting him slip his tongue between your lips. He was everything you’d dreamt of and more since you were seventeen–hard muscle under soft warm skin, his freckled forehead pressed against yours. You let your legs fall to the side, his thick body slotting between them perfectly–the most natural fit.

“If I had known,” Garreth groaned into your mouth, “I would’ve asked you to stay. I would’ve begged .”

“Gar,” you whimpered as he ground his hips into yours, arousal digging into your thigh.

“I would’ve been on my knees,” Garreth’s voice was gravelly now, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck. “Fuck, I would’ve had my mouth against your cunt, begging you to stay with me. It’s all I’ve dreamt of.”

“No use for regret now,” you manage to gasp. “No time like the present.”

Garreth grinned devilishly down at you as he pulled away. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “Tell me you want this. Tell me, and I’ll give you all the reasons to stay.”

You licked your lips, nodding at him. “I want you.”

Garreth went to work–your sweater was torn off, trousers rucked off your hips as he stripped you of all your clothing. His damn near tore off his own sweater, throwing it absentmindedly as he worked on the buttons of his pants. The room was warm–whether from your passion or the heat of the fire, you weren’t sure–but you stared up at the man, who’d tugged his pants and undergarments down far enough to free his length. You couldn’t help but admire the freckles all over his body, peppering his skin down to his groin. He pumped his deliciously thick cock in his hand, the tip glistening as he prepared himself.

“All this from a foraging trip,” you joked.

Garreth laughed, his whole body rippling. He released his length, dipping down to kiss you again. “I promised I’d make the trip with your while,” he teased, fingers dancing over your core. You shuddered, eyes shutting as he massaged your clit. “I intend to make good on that.”

His teasing words had you unbearably wet, the vulgar sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you filling the room. Garreth laughed again, the sound music to your ears as he leaned down, pressing his lips to your nub. He closed his mouth around it, and you let out a stuttered moan as he sucked.

“So sweet,” Garreth groaned. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about getting you off for years.” Opening one eye, you saw him thrusting his hips against the air, desperate for friction. You nearly stopped him to help his situation, until he curled his fingers inside of you. Thankfully you two were the only ones in the house, with no neighbors nearby–the scream you let out rippled through the air, Garreth’s name rolling off your lips as he guided you through your orgasm.

“Reason one to stay,” Garreth announced, your slick glistening around his mouth as you panted. “I can do that, every morning and every night.”

Nothing could have stopped you from pouncing on him, pushing him back onto the floor. He gave you his signature mischievous grin, hands falling to the side of his head. “Go on,” he said lazily, as you straddled his midsection. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

You scooted backwards, his impossibly hard cock brushing against you as you adjusted your body. His hands slipped to your waist, holding you up as you took him in hand, pressing the tip to your cunt. Garreth looked so beautiful, pupils blown with pleasure as he stared at the two of you, about to join.

“If you hadn’t been listening to your stupid friends, this could’ve been yours years ago,” you breathed.

“I’ll never listen to another soul besides you, ever again.” Garreth rasped. “Only you.”

Garreth’s head tipped back, hitting the ground with a loud thud when you slid onto him. His hands snaked up to your hips, holding you as you took him in, inch by inch. He held onto you so tightly, he could’ve bruised you–not that you would’ve cared. You would’ve claimed those marks as a badge of honor, knowing they were left by him .

“Fuck, you feel amazing.” Garreth sputtered. “So–so good around me, so tight.”

“Tell me to stay,” You whispered, slowly circling your hips as you leaned down to brush your lips against his. “Ask me.”

“Please,” Garreth moaned. “Stay. Stay with me.”

You picked up speed, cantering your hips. It was picturesque–the fire crackling in the background, Garreth spread beneath you, coming undone. You raked your hands down his chest, fingers catching on the red hair that dusted his chest.

“Beg me,” you demanded, planting your feet on the floor as you bounced up and down his cock.

“Come home to me,” Garreth whimpered. “Please, please, please come home. I’ll do anything to have you here with me, always.” He gritted his teeth, pushing his hips upwards. “Gods, I’ll make you come every day, twice a day, for the rest of your life if you just stay.”

“More,” you breathed. You weren’t sure what you were asking for–more of his pleas, or more of his body.

Garreth started pistoning his hips upwards, meeting you with every bounce. You couldn’t help letting out the desperate cry that tumbled out of your mouth when he sprung forward, pushing himself even deeper into you. You were now fully seated in his lap, grinding against one another as you raced to the finish line.

“I’ll worship you,” Garreth growled, peppering kisses on your face. “No need to run anymore. You’ll have a home–I’ll be home for you.” Despite his hand that had slithered up to your neck, pressing light pressure against your pulse, Garreth’s words were wholesome, sweet. He meant them, you realized. It wasn’t just the sex, or years of pent up feelings coming out into the room. The realization that Garreth Weasley loved you, had loved you for all these years apart, made you feel as if you were about to snap–and without warning, you did.

Garreth let out a guttural groan as you wailed atop him, cunt clamping down on him as you finished. You pulled his face onto yours, kissing him as you rocked yourself back and forth on him, riding out your climax. From his breathing, you knew he wasn’t far behind.

“Come in me,” you whispered. “Make me stay.”

Garreth choked as he let it out, his release filling you to the brim. You clung your sweaty bodies to one another, gasping for air. He gave you another sweet smile, brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes.

“Do you mean it?” he asked quietly.

“Mean what?”

“That you’ll stay this time.” His big green eyes stared down at you hopefully, peeking through his red lashes.

You bit your lip, pressing your nose against his. You thought of the last day at Hogwarts, how Garreth had held your hand, wishing you well on your trip. How if Garreth knew the truth, he probably would’ve asked you to stay. And now, after all these years, the road you hadn’t taken and had always regretted was now an option.

“I’ll stay,” you assured him.

Garreth gave you the goofiest, most hopeful grin you’d ever seen before pressing his lips against yours. You were still joined, and you could feel him stiffening again inside you as you wriggled your hips. You would’ve picked back up on your lovemaking, if it weren’t for the smell of singed wool filling the room.

“Damn,” Garreth cursed, gently pushing you off of him. He crawled over to the fireplace, patting down on his sweater, which had a black burn mark in it. “Must have kicked it into the fireplace while we were…” he trailed off, giving you a sheepish look.

You laughed, pulling blankets from the loveseat. “I’ll knit you a new one,” you assured him. “It’ll be your Christmas present.”

Garreth rolled back over to you; he looked silly, six feet tall and rolling on the floor like a boy. “You knit now?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I had to pick up some hobbies,” you snorted. “Keeps me calm, considering my roommates are sex fiends.”

Garreth laughed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Tell Sebastian and Ominis you’re moving out.” he said firmly. “I’ll tell Lucan to beat it, and we’ll have a home all to our own. You can knit tea cozies and make sweaters for the cat.”

You leaned up, nosing his chin. “And sweaters for the family.” you whispered.

Garreth gave you a lazy, proud grin. “Especially for the family.”

You cuddled him in front of the fire, stroking his chest hair as you spoke freely about the future. You would have to write to the boys in the morning, you realized. Perhaps they could send your clothes in trunks so you wouldn’t have to go back. Ominis had been begging you to clean your room anyways, and Sebastian could finally walk around nude without you screaming at him.

You could spend Christmas with the Weasleys. You could meet Garreth’s many siblings, as he’d promised long ago. You’d knit him a sweater with your own hands, claiming him as yours. And perhaps, one day, you’d be knitting sweaters for your children, who’d run around the very fireplace you were currently laying in front of.

“What are you thinking about?” Garreth asked, stroking your hair.

“How nice it is to be home.”

The children ran around Shell Cottage, shrieking with laughter as they chased one another. The Weasley wives sat in the living room, in front of the fire as they sorted through piles of yarn.

“Who started this bloody tradition anyways?” Hermione whined. “I’m rubbish at knitting.”

“It was Arthur’s great-aunt,” Molly Weasley laughed. “She and Great-Uncle Garreth lived here when they first got married, and they started the tradition of new sweaters, every Christmas. Everyone in the Weasley family has followed it ever since. You know, she's actually got a very interesting story...thought she was a squib, didn't go to Hogwarts until she was fifteen...ended up becoming a world traveler before she settled down with Great-Uncle Garreth...” Molly trailed off, but no one else was listening over the sound of Celestina Warbeck over the radio.

Her daughter and daughter-in-laws sat on the floor, learning how to make sweaters for their babies. Fleur had taken quite well to it, all of her children wearing knit sweaters in Beauxbatons blue, and it was now Hermione’s turn to learn, her daughter laying in a woven basket on the floor next to them, cooing softly.

“Thanks a lot,” Hermione grumbled, looking up at the photograph on the mantle. The young couple smiled for the camera, with Garreth Weasley proudly wearing the first Weasley Christmas sweater recorded in family history.

#garreth weasley #garreth weasley smut #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x you #garreth weasley x oc #writing-intheundercroft #hint of sebinis

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slytherin-paramour · 11 months

Text

Literally woke up horny for Garreth 🤷‍♀️💀

A very good awakening

Garreth X MC NSFW drabble

It's hot. That's the first sobering thought that floods your half- coherent mind as you blink into reality from one of the deepest sleeps that you've experienced in a long while.

Everywhere is hot, and your body is burning, still half asleep, but you can feel sweat dripping down your neck, the salty droplet falling over your collar bone.

Then your thighs clench together as you feel a throb of pleasure surge through you, a soft, slick pressure pressing through your wet folds and lapping upwards to suction onto your pulsing nub.

You cry out desperately, still trying to rouse your concious from slumber, are you still dreaming?

One eye is cracked open, and it peers down over your peaking breasts to see a blur of flaming locks and flushed skin, morning sunlight dappling there to create this beautiful mirage.

A deep, guttural groan vibrated against your heat, and your hips bucked upward into a starving mouth. When had your hands clasped into those firey locks of hair?

Your eyes closed again, head lolling back into the plush cushions that had aided your sleep. Moans spilled from your lips as the skilled appendage that devoured you delved deeper into your cavern, his fingers digging painfully into the junction of your hips to keep you in place-as if you would try to escape this onslaught.

Your fingers wound tightly into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to your searing heat, crying out as his tongue pulled out of your hole to lap up your slick with a moan before attacking your clit once again. He pulled it between his teeth, and you lost your senses, the heels of your feet digging into his broad shoulders brutally, hands pulling posessively on his head as you pushed your mound against his face fervently.

He only grunted, not bothered in the slightest that you were practically suffocating him. You heard his name fall from your chapped lips and felt that familiar coil of intense pleasure about to snap and this intensified when the stretch of a long finger breached your sopping walls, curling up inside you to press against that secret place that you knew would be your undoing.

The gasp that left your mouth was sinful as your hips pushed down to meet each thrust of his finger, his tongue pressing firmly against the bundle of nerves at your apex. Your climax roared through you all at once, legs clamping around his neck as a primal moan tore from your throat. He practically growled into your sopping folds, your hands tearing into his hair as he greedily lapped up the juices that flowed out of you. He removed his finger from your sensitive heat and pushed away from you, resting on his arms.

Your hips twitched as you felt the comedown from your high, your fingers carding through the soft locks of red hair that you loved so much. He stared up at your face with a grin, licking away the slick that had gathered around his mouth, and you couldn't help but smile back at him, growing sleepy again from his ministrations.

"Good morning, love!"

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy oc #harry potter #garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy Garreth #garreth weasley smut #garreth weasley x reader

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sebastianwallows · 1 year

Note

How do you think Sebastian, Ominis, and Garreth would react to F!MC face sitting😏

Face Sitting Headcannons

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader; Sebastian Sallow x f!reader; Garreth x f!reader

Warnings - 18+, oral sex

Sebastian

he would be tasting you like a starved man

his fingers would be leaving bruises on your hips and backside while his hands roamed your body

he would be rough and teasing, running his tongue through your folds and maybe even tugging gently with his teeth

when you would grind yourself against his face he would obediently move his tongue to your clit, flattening it against your nub and finding just the right pace for you

he would be so worked up that he would have pre-cum everywhere when the two of you were done

he would moan, sending perfect vibrations through you when you pull on his hair

he would love every minute of being nearly suffocated by your thighs

Ominis

he would take his time and be slow with you

he would really want you to beg and would love when you rutted yourself against his lips and nose

he would tell you how good you smell and how much he loves your taste

he would caress your thighs before stretching his hands beside his own head, waiting your fingers to hold onto his

he would leave wet, open-mouthed kisses over your cunt, sucking lightly on your clit when he makes his way there

he would be working hard to drive you crazy and definitely take you to the edge a few times before letting you cum

he would lap up your cream thinking about how wet and soft you were going to be for his cock when he was finished with you

Garreth

he would look up at you tenderly before hauling your hips the rest of the distance to his mouth

he would focus his hands on stroking up and down your thighs and legs to make you sensitive all over

he would close his eyes and lick long strips from your hole to your clit, lingering just enough to make you whine

he would try to tease you, but be unable to help himself from giving you what you wanted

his favorite thing to do is take the pressure off of your clit to fuck you with his tongue, so he could taste as much of you as possible

his spit combined with your slick would coat his tongue for the perfect smooth rhythm had he in mind for your nub to make you cum

#garreth weasley smut #ominis gaunt smut #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow #garreth weasley #ominis gaunt #ominis #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy x reader #garreth weasley x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy headcanon #garreth weasley headcannon #sebastian sallow headcannon #ominis gaunt headcannon

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wedonthaveawhile · 4 months

Text

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.”

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