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witchyafterdark · 2 years ago

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Just an idea but what how would the boys act to Mc doing things in class trying to turn them on???

Like it would be completely scandalous for the time which I think would hilarious just a sexually frustrated Ominis just trying to survive through charms while Mcs just running her hand up his thigh or something. He's praying to Merlin that no one noticed cause he's pretty sure his face is completely flushed.

Sebastian oh I can just see him try to match the energy while still being subtle just waiting for class to end.

Idk about Gerrith though???

let's be honest, MC is a menace to society in general but especially to these poor boys. curious as to how she ensures the three of them will never pass their N.E.W.T.s? read on:

tease me, please me

Pairings: Garreth Weasley x f!MC, Ominis Gaunt x f!MC, Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: M

Word Count: 1.7k

Garreth: Sometimes he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose, because you must be aware that much of your chest is visible. You’d feel it on your skin, wouldn’t you? (Merlin, he wishes he could feel that skin.) Ominis: Sharing a bench with you is a special kind of purgatory designed specifically for Ominis, who supposes he must have done something either wonderful or terrible in a past life. Sebastian: These days Herbology lessons are simply occasions for the two of you to attempt to outdo the other with subtle, salacious behavior. Sebastian is more than happy to take advantage of the fact that all the other boys – and more than a few girls – are too distracted by Professor Garlick’s presence to notice.

Garreth

Garreth sometimes thinks that putting the Potions classroom in a literal dungeon was a mistake.

Sure, it’s all well and good when Professor Sharp is simply going to lecture for the majority of the lesson about the different ways of handling Ashwinder eggs, as if Garreth hasn’t already poured over half a dozen books in the library pertaining to that precise topic.

But whenever there’s a practical class, it gets quite hot.

As soon as the flames are lit beneath two dozen cauldrons that will bubble away all afternoon, the room starts to fill with steam and the occasional fiery spark. This only worsens when students begin to fill their cauldrons and becomes nearly unbearable by the time their brews reach a rolling boil.

Everyone eventually shrugs off their robes, and the gentlemen are known to loosen their ties a bit if they feel they can get away with the impropriety of it.

(Garreth cares little for propriety, so he often takes the miserable thing off entirely.)

Ladies frequently choose to suffer the heat fully dressed, lest the churning rumor mill turn its vicious eyes toward them.

You, however, could give a damn, and Garreth adores it.

First, you gather your hair in a messy pile on top of your head and use a simple silk ribbon with your house colors to tie it back — a necessity for simply being able to see your cauldron through all the steam. Then your tie comes off, abandoned at your station and safely tucked away from any open flames.

Lastly, you undo not just the top button of your shirt, but the one beneath it as well.

Needless to say, Garreth always claims the station across from you.

As the hours slowly drag on, you tend to get more and more flustered – equally from the heat of the room and the complexity of your N.E.W.T.-level potions. When the heat becomes too much you’ll fan yourself with a stray textbook, but whenever your potions start to fail, you’ll curse under your breath and lean over the cauldron to peer frustratedly at the sickly-looking liquid.

That’s when Garreth gets treated to a very generous look straight down your shirt.

Sometimes he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose, because you must be aware that much of your chest is visible. You’d feel it on your skin, wouldn’t you?

(Merlin, he wishes he could feel that skin.)

He’s not subtle about looking, either. He’s practically slack-jawed whenever he catches a glimpse, once becoming so distracted by the lacy hem of your corset that he knocked over a full bottle of horklump juice.

Professor Sharp had been livid, especially since Garreth’s recent bought of distraction typically meant there were fewer disasters in his classroom than usual, not more.

While Sharp had berated Garreth and made him use a rag to clean his potions station by hand as punishment, you bit the inside of your cheek and slyly undid a third button, wondering if you could tease him into working up the courage to sneak away with you and undo the rest of your buttons himself.

Ominis

Like most of his classmates, Ominis had never found History of Magic to be particularly compelling. Having grown up in a wizarding family himself, he had at least heard of many of the significant territorial skirmishes between wizardkind and other magical populations over the years – though with much less objectivity, mind you.

As such, much of the class felt like old hat to him, and obviously it didn’t help that it was taught by the most dreadfully boring ghost to ever haunt the halls of Hogwarts.

He typically dreaded having to spend the afternoon fighting to maintain consciousness while Professor Binns droned on and on. Without visual stimuli to help him focus on anything other than Binns’ voice, staying awake the entire time was usually hopeless.

That is unless you’re also in class.

Compared to Ominis, you and Sebastian have a much less rigid interpretation of how much attendance is actually required at Hogwarts, so occasionally you’ll skive off and simply submit your inches of parchment to the Professor in his office. He’s never mentioned that you don’t often appear in his classes, nor does he seem to realize that Sebastian may never have actually attended despite having some of the best marks in your entire year.

Ominis much prefers when you do actually show up, even if you only seem to do so in order to torture him.

Sharing a bench with you is a special kind of purgatory designed specifically for Ominis, who supposes he must have done something either wonderful or terrible in a past life.

Lately, your favorite way to drive him mad is to covertly rest your hand atop his knee. Ostensibly this is to help him retain his cognizance – to give him something else to focus on other than the dull lecture. What a kind gesture, one might think.

But Ominis knows better. Slowly over the course of an hour, you slide your hand up the length of his thigh until your pinky finger brushes against the button of his trousers and your warm palm is cupped against where he’s achingly hard.

Merlin, he wishes you would simply open up his trousers and wrap your hand around him right then and there. He’s been worked up for nearly an hour now, so desperate for it that he couldn’t care less if anyone sees. He’d probably even beg if you asked.

So much for focusing on his studies – this is all he can think about. He’s mercilessly at your whim every time you use your thumb to trace a deliberate line up and down the length of him, or press your hand down and grind against him with the heel of your palm to help relieve a little bit of tension.

He’s hunched over the desk to shield your hand from view, and even when he occasionally lets out a soft whimper, anyone who might hear simply assumes he’s mumbling in his sleep.

In fact, he wishes he was asleep. Then instead of being painfully aware of every tiny movement in your hand, he could dream about what you’d do if you ever decided to take pity on him and give him some release right there in the room.

He’s been aching, leaking for so long now that you could easily slide your hand underneath the waistband of his trousers and stroke him off. He wouldn’t even mind if you simply left him with the mess – it’s pathetic, of course, but nevertheless true.

Maybe you’d even slide off the bench and kneel underneath the table. You could undo the front of his trousers and pull his cock out so you can use that sinful mouth on him while everyone around you is either sleeping or bored to the point of catatonia.

But you don’t. You just smirk to yourself and continue taking notes on some insignificant goblin rebellion from centuries ago, one hand on your quill and the other in Ominis’ lap.

(You’ll take care of him after class, of course. You always do.)

Sebastian

Across the board, Sebastian is a fantastic student – attendance issues aside, of course. He’s decidedly studious, remarkably clever and even more ambitious when it comes to achieving high marks than his house placement would typically demand.

Most of all he’s a hard worker, but thanks to the green thumb he’d inherited from his mother, Herbology is the one class where he can get away with slacking off just a bit.

It’s just as well, because at the start of term he’d quickly staked out the planter next to yours as his own. As a result, he usually expects to spend most of the lesson being distracted by you rather than his rambunctious chomping cabbages.

You’re a horrendous flirt, as it turns out. Sebastian couldn’t believe it when he’d finally met his match, having spent much of his fourth year attempting to charm girls who would inevitably go red at the slightest compliment and run off to giggle privately with their friends.

These days Herbology lessons are simply occasions for the two of you to attempt to outdo the other with subtle, salacious behavior. Sebastian is more than happy to take advantage of the fact that all the other boys – and more than a few girls – are too distracted by Professor Garlick’s presence to notice.

For example, he can usually get away with sliding a hand inside your robes and groping your ass whenever you bend down to get a scoop of fertilizer from the pot on the floor.

In retaliation, you’ll then lean in close and whisper something downright filthy in his ear while he’s gingerly attempting to move a finicky Dittany plant to a new pot.

Maybe something like, “Meet me in the Undercroft after this and I’ll see if I can get you off without using my hands at all.”

Sebastian curses under his breath and nearly tips over the pot – thank Merlin it wasn’t a mandrake.

Later on, while Professor Garlick is offering some tips to a captive audience about how much soil to pack alongside Mallowsweet plants, Sebastian sneaks up behind you and starts to kiss your neck, ego soaring when you sigh softly and tip your head back.

“You’re going to get us both in trouble,” he murmurs against your skin. “You can’t even wait for class to end, can you?”

“Do you think we could sneak away?” you breathe. “No one would even notice, I reckon.”

“We could,” Sebastian drawls. “But where’s the fun in that? I think we should wait.”

“Are you sure?” you demand, grinding your hips back against his. “I can make it worth your while, Sallow.”

“I’m sure you can,” he laughs in a low voice. “Just consider it payback for all the times you’ve gotten me worked up and ran off to go be brilliantly heroic.”

Then he presses his lips to your neck once again and quickly sucks a bruise into your skin before stepping away.

A few moments later, Professor Garlick sympathetically asks you if the mark on your neck is a stray bite from one of Sebastian’s cabbages, and you have no choice but to grit your teeth and nod while Sebastian looks on smugly.

He knows he’ll pay for that stunt imminently, but at that moment, it’s completely worth it.

#you've done it again!#I seriously love all of them #but i truly have a special place in my heart for my baby boy Ominis 🥺#MC better take care of him after classes cause he deserves it #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #sebastian sallow x mc #garreth weasley x mc

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