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Neville Longbottom in Greenhouse Five with a Mumbulus mimbletonia
Title: When the Wolf's Away
Author:angela_snape
Character: Longbottom, Neville
Location: Greenhouse Five
Object: Mimbulus mimbletonia
Other Characters: Weasley, Bill
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~700
Disclaimer: Belongs to JKR, etc. Not mine.
Author's Notes: Thanks to my betasfirefly124, lilyseyes and lesyeuxverts. Any further mistakes are mine alone.
The Floo popped and crackled as Bill ended the Firecall. Neville sighed as he sat back on his heels; he'd hoped to be in Tuscany with Bill instead of alone at Hogwarts in the middle of summer. Bill had been gone a week, attending the annual Potions Masters Conference at the Accademia Magica in Firenze. Neville's Mimbulus mimbletonia had taken ill just before the conference, and as much as he wanted to spend some vacation time with his lover, and with no other Herbologist available to care for his prized plant, Neville had remained behind. The daily Floo-calls helped to fill the void, but Neville felt as though a piece of his heart was in Italy, and he wouldn’t be whole until Bill’s return.
Neville made his way to greenhouse five, where the scent of Stinksap had finally faded. The plant had returned to its normal, grey pallor, having been quite an odd shade of pink at the height of its illness. By the time the Mimbulus had recovered, there had been little point in joining Bill in Tuscany, even if he was hornier than Hagrid’s prized bicorn. He could wait until tomorrow, and Bill’s return.
Neville’s Mimbulus had grown so much, that it hardly resembled the potted plant he’d first brought to Hogwarts in fifth year. The plant had developed branches and even reproduced itself, in its own odd manner. As if sensing its caregiver had arrived, its pulsations quickened in greeting, and a squirming, tentacle-like branch reached out to touch Neville's shoulder. The branch began to wrap itself around his shoulders. Neville supposed it was his pet plant's way of giving him a hug, though it had never reached out to him like this before. Perhaps the plant, too, had grown accustomed to Bill’s frequent visits to the greenhouses, and had noticed his absence.
"I miss him, too." Neville was a firm believer that talking to plants made them grow better – his giant Mimbulus was living proof of this, as it filled most of greenhouse five. The Mimbulus’ pulsations increased in response to Neville's voice, and the tentacle moved from his shoulders... to his arse.
Neville wasn't sure what disturbed him more – the fact that his Mimbulus was caressing his buttock, or the fact that his prick was hardening in response to the plant's touch. Although, it had been ages since Bill left...
The glass windows of the greenhouse twinkled with the shifting of the sun’s rays as it moved towards the horizon. The sky was fiery red like Bill’s hair, and if Neville closed his eyes, just a bit, he could almost imagine that it was Bill’s hand stroking along the curve of his arse, and not the Mimbulus’ branch. Neville’s pulse quickened, his breathing grew shallow and his prick became even harder.
"No." Neville shook his head, stepping away from the plant's caresses. The branch retreated, but his prick stayed decidedly firm. Another branch came forward, this time rubbing against the tent in his trousers. Neville groaned, and did the only thing he could – he batted away the branch with one hand, and undid his zip with the other.
Neville's cock sprang forward, no longer restrained by his trousers. It bobbed a little before he took it in hand. A bead of clear fluid had leaked out of the tip, and Neville smeared it over the head of his cock, closing his eyes and imagining it was Bill's hand, not his own.
"Merlin!" The word ground out from between clenched teeth as his hand pulled at his turgid cock. His hips began to thrust in counterpoint to his hand, and his grip tightened, foreskin sliding over the hardened shaft. With each thrust, Neville rubbed his thumb over the head, which was now leaking copiously. With his free hand, he cupped his bollocks, rolling them together before squeezing gently.
The Mimbulus' pulsations increased in time with Neville's hand; it was starting to look like it was going to burst open a few boils' worth of Stinksap. Neville felt a familiar tightening in his bollocks, and as he came, one word was on his lips. “Bill!”
Neville didn't hear the door to the greenhouse open, nor did he hear the booted footsteps as they approached.
"Miss me, love?"
Title: When the Wolf's Away
Author:
angela_snapeCharacter: Longbottom, Neville
Location: Greenhouse Five
Object: Mimbulus mimbletonia
Other Characters: Weasley, Bill
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~700
Disclaimer: Belongs to JKR, etc. Not mine.
Author's Notes: Thanks to my betas
firefly124, lilyseyes and lesyeuxverts. Any further mistakes are mine alone.The Floo popped and crackled as Bill ended the Firecall. Neville sighed as he sat back on his heels; he'd hoped to be in Tuscany with Bill instead of alone at Hogwarts in the middle of summer. Bill had been gone a week, attending the annual Potions Masters Conference at the Accademia Magica in Firenze. Neville's Mimbulus mimbletonia had taken ill just before the conference, and as much as he wanted to spend some vacation time with his lover, and with no other Herbologist available to care for his prized plant, Neville had remained behind. The daily Floo-calls helped to fill the void, but Neville felt as though a piece of his heart was in Italy, and he wouldn’t be whole until Bill’s return.
Neville made his way to greenhouse five, where the scent of Stinksap had finally faded. The plant had returned to its normal, grey pallor, having been quite an odd shade of pink at the height of its illness. By the time the Mimbulus had recovered, there had been little point in joining Bill in Tuscany, even if he was hornier than Hagrid’s prized bicorn. He could wait until tomorrow, and Bill’s return.
Neville’s Mimbulus had grown so much, that it hardly resembled the potted plant he’d first brought to Hogwarts in fifth year. The plant had developed branches and even reproduced itself, in its own odd manner. As if sensing its caregiver had arrived, its pulsations quickened in greeting, and a squirming, tentacle-like branch reached out to touch Neville's shoulder. The branch began to wrap itself around his shoulders. Neville supposed it was his pet plant's way of giving him a hug, though it had never reached out to him like this before. Perhaps the plant, too, had grown accustomed to Bill’s frequent visits to the greenhouses, and had noticed his absence.
"I miss him, too." Neville was a firm believer that talking to plants made them grow better – his giant Mimbulus was living proof of this, as it filled most of greenhouse five. The Mimbulus’ pulsations increased in response to Neville's voice, and the tentacle moved from his shoulders... to his arse.
Neville wasn't sure what disturbed him more – the fact that his Mimbulus was caressing his buttock, or the fact that his prick was hardening in response to the plant's touch. Although, it had been ages since Bill left...
The glass windows of the greenhouse twinkled with the shifting of the sun’s rays as it moved towards the horizon. The sky was fiery red like Bill’s hair, and if Neville closed his eyes, just a bit, he could almost imagine that it was Bill’s hand stroking along the curve of his arse, and not the Mimbulus’ branch. Neville’s pulse quickened, his breathing grew shallow and his prick became even harder.
"No." Neville shook his head, stepping away from the plant's caresses. The branch retreated, but his prick stayed decidedly firm. Another branch came forward, this time rubbing against the tent in his trousers. Neville groaned, and did the only thing he could – he batted away the branch with one hand, and undid his zip with the other.
Neville's cock sprang forward, no longer restrained by his trousers. It bobbed a little before he took it in hand. A bead of clear fluid had leaked out of the tip, and Neville smeared it over the head of his cock, closing his eyes and imagining it was Bill's hand, not his own.
"Merlin!" The word ground out from between clenched teeth as his hand pulled at his turgid cock. His hips began to thrust in counterpoint to his hand, and his grip tightened, foreskin sliding over the hardened shaft. With each thrust, Neville rubbed his thumb over the head, which was now leaking copiously. With his free hand, he cupped his bollocks, rolling them together before squeezing gently.
The Mimbulus' pulsations increased in time with Neville's hand; it was starting to look like it was going to burst open a few boils' worth of Stinksap. Neville felt a familiar tightening in his bollocks, and as he came, one word was on his lips. “Bill!”
Neville didn't hear the door to the greenhouse open, nor did he hear the booted footsteps as they approached.
"Miss me, love?"