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hopelessromantic5 · 3 months

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King Arthur happens to be traveling through Ealdor the exact day the citizens decide they’ve had enough of Merlin.

Labeling him too dangerous, they tied him up on the pyre in the center of town.

As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.

He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.

The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.

No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.

He’d resigned himself to an early death.

Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”

Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.

In the distance, he could hear a sound.

The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.

Visitors were approaching.

It must be fate, he thinks.

As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.

Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.

“What is the meaning of this?”

A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.

“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.

Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.

“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.

“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“

“What has he done?”

“Sire?”

“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.

“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.

Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.

“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.

“So this man-“

“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.

“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”

Again no answer.

The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.

The doomed boy nearly gasped.

Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.

The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.

Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.

“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.

Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.

“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“

“I am not my father. Cut him down.”

Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.

What a prince he was.

Well, King, now.

No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.

“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.

Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.

The sound of salvation.

Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.

“I said, cut him down.”

The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.

Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.

Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.

Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.

He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.

As was-

“What is your name?”

It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.

He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.

“Merlin.”

The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.

“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”

Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.

King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.

“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.

The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said

“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.

Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.

Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.

Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.

Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.

“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.

“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.

“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”

Merlin sighed into her shoulder.

“Alright.”

When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.

Merlin was starting to warm to him already.

“Can I pack first?”

King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.

“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”

“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.

If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.

And perhaps, one knowing mother.

#merthur #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur fic #merlin and arthur #hunith #king arthur #Ealdor #might continue #longer version will probably be on ao3

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hyuckkaiji · 7 months

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my love - ominis gaunt x f!reader

summary; pt.2 to only mine. Ominis has loved you since the moment he met you. He found the universe cruel to give him such a love yet allow you to love his best friend. But now you're his, and he can never let you go. Not after all he did to get you in the first place. Ominis!pov up until the actual smut then it's kinda dual!pov pt.3: ominis , pt.3 sebastian

word count; 5.1k

warnings; 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, dubcon, porn with a plot, dark!ominis, sub/dom dynamics, mentions of cheating/infidelity, manipulation, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, If I'm gonna be real with y'all ... yandere!ominis

note; in love with this man, need him to treat me like this. idc if he locks me up in his basement as long as I'm with him. maybe went a lil overboard. Second ever smut 🥴🫶 also ik I didn't specify but the spell he used locked her in the house so she couldn't run away 🤪

The memory of meeting you is ingrained in Ominis' mind, every part of you is. The sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair, the feel of your skin against his. You are undoubtedly irrefutably the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth. He's known that since he was fifteen.

But you didn't love him back, much to his dismay. Although he could understand it. Who would love him? Not even his own family did. No, he didn't fault you for not loving him. He faulted you for loving Sebastian Sallow.

He would tell himself he understood, of course he understood. He loved Sebastian too, Sebastian was one of only three people he had ever loved. He understood it, he did not blame you, he understood it, he did, he swore he did. But he didn't, not really, and as time went on, his lack of understanding only furthered.

And he began to blame you, such an intelligent witch, and yet you continued to be fool when it came to Sebastian. You watched him make all the wrong decisions, for merlin's sake, aided him in those decisions. You not only stood by but stood with Sebastian as he delved deeper and deeper into the dark arts, all in hopes of saving Anne.

Constantly defending his decline into utter insanity, "If it were my sister..." But you didn't have siblings, Ominis did, and he would never do what Sebastian was doing. It wasn't right. When would you stop being such a fool? He told you and told you and told you some more how bad the dark arts truly are. But you always did favor ignoring his warnings.

Did you just not care about what he had to say? No, you cared, you told him you cared, and he knew you spoke truly, but you cared about Sebastian's happiness more. Even when he couldn't take it, even when he begged you to speak some sense into Sebastian, you defended your lover. "Would you not use the unforgivables to save a loved one?" For you he may, but he had pushed that thought away, doubling down, telling you under no circumstances would he ever.

His last straw was the killing curse, the bloody killing curse. There was no coming back from that. He could no longer stand by his friend, his brother, really. The only family he had, he couldn't stand by Sebastian when he wouldn't even stand by his own blood for using such heinous magic. He had expected you to side with him. You weren't that much of a fool. His heart broke when you didn't, Sebastian it was always Sebastian. You begged him not to tell, Sebastian had good reason for his actions. No one need know what he did.

According to you, Sebastian always had good reason, and you begged so prettily, the word please sounded so right coming from your lips. Until he remembered why you were saying, "please," why you were begging. But he agreed none the less, agreed to keep Sebastian's secret. But that was a lie, a lie he swore to take to his grave. Sebastian had gone too far.

Ominis hadn't slept. In fact, he was on his fourth cup of coffee. Tea, tea, you had told him, with some of the other ladies, wives, of Feldcroft. But tea does not take all night. He had opened up a book when you left, opting to read until your return.

He had wanted to beg you to stay in with him, wanted to let his hands roam your bare skin, wanted to drop to his knees, and hike your leg over his shoulders then and there. But he is a gentleman. So he decided to wait until you got back home to satiate his desires, you wouldn't be long and he's not an animal, he could wait.

Waited he did, waited until the book began to bore him. Waited until the moon hid away, waited until the vibrant colors of dawn began to paint the sky. You were like this sometimes. He had learned to work around it. So, like the good husband he is, he waited. Other men would have demanded you stayed. Other men would have gone out and dragged you back home, beat you bloody perhaps. But he isn't like that he loves you and he'll work around your moods. You always come back to him any how.

He knows it's just one of your moods or moments as he calls them. Those times where you think you want to leave him, where you think you'd be able to. But you know and he knows, he's all you have and you'll come back. He'll wait until you feel better, but he'll not sleep without by his side.

So there he sat, swirling a fourth cup of coffee, with just a hint of milk and sugar. He didn't like it too sweet. The sun not yet fully in the sky when he hears you shuffling your way to the front door. Perhaps you thought he'd still be asleep. He did enjoy extra time in bed on his days off. Perhaps you thought you could climb into bed with him and pretend you hadn't been out contemplating running away, again.

You did that semi-often. He would pretend to be asleep, he would pretend not to notice you'd walked your night away, lost in that pretty head of yours. But he knew, he knows everything about you. It doesn't bother him the way you feel, not really. He would love it if you loved him back. Hell, he'd be over the moon about it, but it's not important. You can hate him, he doesn't really care, as long as you're his, your feelings don't really matter.

As long as you sleep by his side at night, as long as you have breakfast with him every morning, as long as you welcome him home with false kisses in the evenings, as long as you quiver when his cock enters you, he's perfectly happy letting you have your little day dreams about leaving.

Something about tonight had felt different, though. He had felt off. It was not long before dawn when he let his worries get the best of him, the sky more dark than light when he cast his spell. His intuition was right, it always was.

Sebastian Sallow was in Feldcroft. Ominis should have been more diligent with his wards, he knew he had been getting slack. It had been so many years now, he thought surely Sebastian would have moved on by now. But no, he supposes, had roles been reversed, he would not have moved on either. It's his own fault, he should have never slacked on his wards. He would need to remedy his mistake.

Perhaps you hadn't run into Sebastian, perhaps it had just been a normal walk for you. No, Ominis knows Sebastian, even after all these years, he knows him. He found his way to you, his perfect little wife. Gods help him if he has touched you in any way.

How to deal with this dilemma? Oblivate maybe. No he doesn't feel right casting such a spell on you, a good husband would never. He needs more information before-

"Husband." Merlin, how he loves hearing you say that. Yes, yes, he is your husband, you needn't ever speak his name again. Only call him husband, stake your claim on him, call him yours. Yes, your husband. Your good husband, your sweet husband.

"Wife." His voice is calm, he looks over in your direction. Wand in one hand, coffee in the other. "You did not sleep, darling." A statement. "You did not come home, I couldn't sleep without you." True.

"I-I-" You didn't continue, letting the awkward silence settle, thick and heavy. "Come sit, my love, I was worried when you did not come home, but as you said, this is Feldcroft, so I did not necessarily worry for your safety." A lie, normally true, but tonight had been different, "Do not take that the wrong way. I always worry for your safety, I only meant-"

"I know what you meant, husband." You tossed your coat over an armchair before sitting next to Ominis. He set his wand and coffee to the side on a small table, uncrossing his legs, patting his lap for you to rest your head. A common gesture, he enjoys the way your hair feels like woven silk between his fingers. You obeyed, such a good wife, his wife.

You wiggled a bit before finding a comfortable spot on his lap. He was still in the same outfit. Though he was only in his dark blue trousers and his white button-down shirt. "Where were you?" His fingers started their routine, your hair was knotted, more than usual. His fingers gently worked out the knots regardless.

"Walking, I'm sorry, I should have come home. Should have come back to you." Liar, his fingers twitched, wanting to grab you by your hair and force you to speak the truth. He knows where you were. He always knows where you are. Just as he always knows where Sebastian is.

It was one of his main reasons for becoming an auror. Of course, he enjoyed his job and enjoyed taking down dark wizards, scum of the earth. But his main reason was to keep Sebastian away from you, to keep you all to himself. You, you have been his reason for everything, his reason for living. His need for you is insatiable.

Before he met you, had Sebastian went down this dark path he might have mourned his friend, would have left his life but never betrayed him, never turned him in. But after you, you his sweet wife, his one true love. You're the reason Sebastian is on the run, this is really all your fault. If only you had loved him to begin with, he would have never needed to get rid of Sebastian.

Never needed to do all that he has done, for you, he did it all for you. Do not misunderstand, he regrets nothing but still it must be acknowledged, he is no betrayer by nature, he is only what you have made him.

"Speak the truth, y/n." He has no tolerance for liars, your falsities he could deal with but blatant lies, he could not. You shot up from his lap, moving to look in his face. Though his eyes could not see the worry etched into your features, he could feel it radiating off of you.

"Ominis." He perfers when you call him husband, but his name has never not sounded heavenly on your lips. "I speak the truth. Why do you accuse me otherwise?" Do you think him a fool? Blatant lies, by the gods, he never took you for a liar, yet here you are. He is a fool. He stands quickly, grabbing his wand.

"Ominis." You sound afraid, your voice coming out in a slight whimper. You've never sounded afraid of him before, something about it sends a jolt to his cock. You should sound afraid. He is a powerful wizard, after all, one of the most renowned aurors of your time. Him and his partner are responsible for putting almost half of the new prisoners in Azkaban, several he managed to capture on his own.

You should be afraid of him, you should respect him, you should love him. After all this fucking time and everything he has done for you, given for you, why don't you love him? Why is it still Sebastian. You would rather live a life on the run, a life of a criminal, than be with him?

He casts the spell while you still cower before him, one of his own creation. One, powerful witch you are, even you could not take down. "What...what was that?" Still whimpering, he'll give you a reason to whimper, a reason to beg.

Too long he has been the gentleman, the good auror, the perfect husband. Clearly, you crave something different than what he's been providing. "A spell."

"Cleary." You snap, fear gone, back again is his angry little wife. He loves you, anger and all, but dear, this not the time. His hand connects with your cheek, the sound of the slap vibrating in the silent house. He can smell the tinge of blood in the air, he must have broken your lip. He does not know his own strength, he should not have struck you so hard. No, you deserved this, he needs to teach you a lesson. He grips your face harshly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He knows it's bothers you, makes you squirm to look a blind man in the eyes.

"You will not speak to me like that again. Unless you enjoy being struck?" You did not respond, at a loss for words he supposed. He's never been harsh with you, never even raised his voice at you. He can be a cruel man, truthfully he is a cruel man, just never to you. It's a side of him he has made sure you were never subject to.

He leaned down, until your noses were almost touching. He could feel your eyes scan his face, hear your short rapid breathes. Fear or anger? He wished you would speak. "Do you understand, wife?" He could barley hear you and he has superior hearing to most men, "yes."

"Yes, what?" He did not know what he wanted more, for you to anwser correctly or incorrectly so he could strike you again. Feeling you tremble beneath him, it was exhilarating. You need to understand how good you have it, need to understand all the leniency he gives you is a courtesy, one he will rescind unless you learn to behave like a proper wife, the wife he deserves.

"Yes husband." Such a good girl, his good little wife. He should be kind, he wants to be kind to you. But making you bleed, making you afraid has awoken some animal instinct in him, unchecked need.

He tilts his head letting his tongue dart out to swipe away the blood building at your lip, letting the metallic taste settle in his mouth. A part of you he is only tasting for the first time, a taste he wants more of. But he pulls back, he needs to control himself at least some what, at least until you beg him to continue.

He crouches before you, his hands against your knees, face tilted up towards yours. "My love, I know where you were." You shake your head, "I was walking, I just needed to breathe, needed to be away from the house for some time. I-" You let out a choked sob, fighting back your tears, he wants to comfort you, he hates when you cry, "I just wanted some time alone, sometime to feel like my own person. Not just Ominis Gaunt's wife."

His wife, his wife, his wife. Those words made his cock twitch, not the time. He stood and struck you again, this time you cried out, this time you brought your hands up to shield your face from another blow. His hand snaked into your hair, wrapping the loose strands in a fist, yanking your head back painfully.

"Speak the truth woman, unless you wish for me to forcefully extract the information." He was a master at such tactics, an empty threat when it came to you. He would never harm you in such a way, but you needed to believe he would.

"Ominis." Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded, but the way you said his name didn't have the intended affect on him. "Truth." Was his only response.

"I was with..." A hiccup, a sob, "Sebastian." The truth. Ominis released his harsh hold on you. Taking a seat next to you, pulling you into his chest, gentle hands stroking your head, rubbing your back as you continue to cry. "There, there my love. All I needed was the truth, if you had only been truthful to begin with." That only made you sob harder, but you did not pull away, instead burying your face deeper, holding his shirt tightly in balled fists.

When you finally calmed down, the only remnants of your break down being dried tear streaks and the occasional hiccup, Ominis held your face in his hands running a thumb over your busted lip softly. "I did not mean to hit you so hard, my love. I apologize."

"I-I can forgive you husband. Can you forgive me?" Did you mean it? Do you regret the night you spent with that fugitive? It doesn't matter, as long as you're in his arms, his wife, his love. "Tell me why you did it? Why you are not happy with me?" You face snaps to his, shocked at his words.

You stutter, unable to form a reply. "Yes, I know, I've always known. I just," He paused, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, "hoped you would learn to eventually." A shiver runs down your spine.

What made you do it, he isn't sure, but you lean in, closing the distance, locking your lips in a frenzied kiss, hands coming up to bury in his sleek blonde hair. Guilt? Best just to enjoy the moment. He kissing you back just as hurriedly, hands tearing your clothes off in a manor of disregard he has never shown before. Slow and loving has always been his way .

In a matter of moments both of you are naked, your kiss a mess of teeth and tongues, hands gripping hair and nails raking across bare skin.

His teeth bury into your neck, sucking and biting an angry red mark into your skin. You moan in response, using his shoulders to steady yourself, nailing digging into his pale flesh. "You're mine, my wife." His mouth is back on yours before you can respond.

This feeling is new for you, this way that Ominis is treating you. But you can't help the spark you feel, the tingles making their way through your body. You rub your thighs together to ease some of the friction, to feel some sort of sensation where you need it most. Where you need him, your husband, Ominis.

He slowed down, feeling you shift around, kissing soft chaste kisses, his normal kisses, into your skin. "Are you feeling needy, my love? Tell me what you wish." You always come first, "Your mouth, fuck, please Ominis."

Normally he would, as soon as the words "your mouth" left your lips he'd be down on his knees lapping away at your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit just the way he knows you like, the way that makes you come undone and shake beneath him. This is not a normal day.

He forces you down on your knees, your face aligned almost perfectly with his waiting leaking cock. "Ominis?" You're confused. He looking down, looking into your soul again, it's sends a shiver down your spine. But it's different this time not kind, not loving, but angry, hungry, a beast in a man's skin.

"I always give you what you want, I do my best to make you happy, I fuck you the way you want to be fucked. And still you have the gall to shut your eyes and imagine Sebastian while it's my cock you come undone on." His hand is in your hair, firm but not painful, "No more love, you're going to start being a good wife to me. You're going to listen and you're going to learn."

For the first time you want to, you stare up at Ominis' face, taking in every minute detail, the way his hair clings to his damp skin, mapping out the moles the scatter across his body, the ridged muscles he gained from years in the field as well as the scars he's got in battles, you've never cared to notice all this before. But right now I this moment, you can't deny, he's beautiful.

"Lesson one," He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your waiting lips, "use that pretty mouth of your for something other that talking back to me."

"How do you know my mouth is pretty when you can't even see it?" He sneers at you, holding your hair a little tighter and it sends a wave down to your core. With his other hand he grabs his cock directing it down to press again you're lips.

In the four years you've been married to him, you've never done this. Sex has never been about his pleasure, only yours. Time and time again he had delved between you legs until you came apart on his tongue, yet he never asks for anything in return. You're not quite sure what to do, not sure you want to, not sure you could make him feel good if you did.

He taps your lips once more, "Open." His voice is gruff, he looks like he's barely restraining himself. You open hesitantly, but he's pushing his way in before your ready. You moan around him in protest, hands shooting up to push against his thighs, to no avail.

He's using his grip on your hair to make you bob around him, your tongue wrapping around the underside of his cock almost instinctionally. His head in thrown back, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants. "Fuck, pretty girl, I always knew your mouth would feel like heaven." He's jutting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, making tears well in your eyes as you gag around him.

He keeps at this, holding you in place until he find his release. He lets go of your hair, moving both his hands to hold your face in place as he fucks the last few thrusts roughly into your throat. Your nails claw into his thighs at the assault. He doesn't pull all the way out, forcing you to swallow his load, the salty flavor settling, not nearly as bad as you would have imagined... almost pleasant.

He pulls you up, peppering kisses on your face. "You did so good, my sweet girl, my lovely wife." You don't know what to say but you feel an odd sense of pride, having made him feel so good, having made him come undone as he has you so many times before.

"Do you want me to touch you?" He's nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. You hum in response, "Please husband." You can feel him smile against you, one hand grips your hips and the other trails up and down your spine.

"Good start, my love. But I know you can beg a little better than that." He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Do you remember how you begged me not to out Sebastian, you almost got down on your knees, you were on the verge of tears, begging me, it was so pretty, you were so pretty. I used to touch myself every night to the way you sounded that day." He chuckles, "Ominis, Ominis, please, I'm begging you Ominis, please. Fuck I can never forget how you sounded." He groans.

"Be a good girl and do it again. Beg me to touch you." Your face flushes, a mixture of anger at him for bringing up that situation, embarrassment at his mockery, plus an overall heat radiating through your body at his confession and demand.

You don't give in at first, you need not be at two men's mercy, allowing two men to abuse your body in such a way. But Ominis' hand shoots out, wrapping around your throat, your breath catches, unable to successfully suck in another. "P-lease." The word is rough and broken. "Atta girl." His grip loosens and you suck in a greedy breath but he doesn't let go all the way, "Go on, love, beg."

"Please husband." Your tone is soft, low, testing the waters. Ominis says nothing. "Please, Ominis..." You debate, will you really lower yourself to this, begging your own husband to have sex with you? But he struck you, forced his cock down your throat without permission and you still stand here, aching to feel his long slender finger burry themselves inside you. You need it and you will grovel to get it.

"Please touch me, please husband, I'm burning up, I feel as though I will combust if you do not touch me soon. I need to feel you inside me, please Ominis." He moans, actually moans at your words alone and without missing a beat his hand is between your legs.

"Fuck." He groans, leaning in to nip at your neck, "You're so wet, pretty girl." He run a finger between your lips, gathering the fuilds with his fingers, bringing it back up to circle your clit. You buck at the contract, electricity coursing through your veins as his slender fingers circle delicately, the pace and pressure teasing.

"Is this what you want, wife?" You grab his hand, trying to force him to put more pressure, how you like it, how he knows you like it, what will make you come undone in a matter of minutes. But he only tsks at you catching your hand with his free one, pulling it away as he continues his teasing ministrations.

"Yes, husband, yes, please" You whine, moving to grip his shoulders for balance. At your surrender, Ominis moves his free hand back to your hips, holding you in place.

"Did you beg Sebastian like this?" He doesn't stop touching you, "Did he make you this wet?" The teasing is becoming too much, you really do feel like you'll combust, "Does he know how to touch you just the way you like?" His fingers adds more pressure, pace quicking and in mere moments you're putty in his arms. Body tensing and convulsing against him as his strength only is the only thing to keep you upright.

His free arm wraps protectively around your waist, his other collects your juices, giving one final swipe over your clit that makes you jump in hypersensitivity. He brings the his wet fingers to your mouth, forcing them in with little resistance. "Do you taste that, pretty girl?" You hum around him.

"I did that to you. Not Sebastian. Me, your husband. This," his arm slides from your waist down to your bottom, grabbing the flesh roughly, "is mine. You are mine." He pulls his fingers free of your mouth with a pop, a thin string of saliva still connecting you two.

Before you can prepare yourself, Ominis' hand is back between your legs, three fingers buried deep inside you, curling at that spongy spot that makes you jump, that spot he always knows how to hit.

"This." Another curl of his slender fingers, "is mine. Only I get to touch this, taste it. Do you understand, wife?" That sensations is building in the pit of your stomach for a second time, it's too much you think, you always stop after the first one, he never pushes you further. You try to shove at his chest, he doesn't budge, but it's more so that your arms are too weak to actually push.

"Who do you belong to, my love?" You're so close, you can feel your resolve snapping like an old rope, string by tedious string. He stopped when you don't respond and you cry out in protest, trying to rock your hips against his still fingers. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Ominis, I belong to you, my husband, my beloved. Fuck, please, I'm so close, please Om" His pace is punishing and in all of three strokes you feel the coil snap, see white behind your. You hold onto Ominis, trying to ground yourself to this reality as his fingers continue, drawing out your orgasm.

You couldn't stand if you tried, couldn't move a single muscle. But Ominis isn't done with you yet, no, his plan is to break you. You are his, only his, today is the day you finally get that lesson through your thick skull. He picks you up, carrying you in his arms to your shared bed.

He lays you down and you give an appreciative moan, your bed is so soft, familiar and welcoming. It smells like him you realize in your haze, you've never stopped to notice how his scent clings to everything in this house. How his scent gives you a feeling of safety, of home.

Ominis lines himself up with your entrance while you aren't paying attention, half gone nuzzling your face into the comforter. You moan at the intrusion, a mix of pain and pleasure and total oversimulation. You screw your eyes shut, trying to adjust to him inside you.

"Over my dead fucking body." Ominis grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. "Keep your eyes open, I want you to watch me, look at my face as I fuck you. Remember who's cock it is that's inside you." You nod, or you think you did, your body is so heavy, so far out of your control. All that exists is the overwhelming pleasure and Ominis face.

Ominis, you watch as his jaw clenchs, his head falling into your chest before picking back up just so you can see him, his brows scrunch together in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut. His hold on your waist is brusing as his hips jut against yours. Once again your struck by how beautiful he his, how consumed he is by you. You feel that pride again. You make him feel like that, why has it taken you so long to see it.

You reach a hand up, just as his trusts become erratic, your own body falling in sync with his, you pulls his face down just just enough to let your lips meet his in a ghost of a kiss. You finish for the third time this morning just as you feel him shoot his load inside you, he pulls you up holding you tighter against him, burying his face in your chest as he rides out his orgasm.

You rest your head on top of his, running a near limp hand softly through his blonde hair. "I-" the word catches in your throat, "I love you, Ominis."

He pulls away at that, bringing you into a gentle kiss. "I knew you would. I knew it. That's why I had to get rid of Sebastian. My wife, my love, you're mine."

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #˗ˏˋ꒰ 𖹭 my work 𖹭 ꒱ˎˊ˗

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suugarbabe · 8 months

Text

a little one shot based off this request

pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader

word count: ~700

warnings: mentions of weight, ed tendencies

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose at you looked at the envelope in your hands. Your mother made a habit of charming her letters to read allowed to you once they’ve opened and you just weren’t in the mood to hear what you were sure was only ridicule and critique about how disappointed you were making her. Your parent’s expectations were high to say the least. You thanked Merlin for your sorting into Slytherin, hoping that keeping that legacy would at least have them showing some sort of affection, but alas you were given a letter listing more expectations now that you’ve met a previous one.

You swallowed, finally getting the courage to tear the seal. As soon as it was broken the letter finished opening on its own, folding into a pair of disapproving lips that strongly resembled your mum. You closed your eyes, ready to bar the message. “Y/n…hope you’re doing well,” your mother’s voice rang through the room as you rolled your eyes. “Your father and I got your most recent marks. We were disappointed to see you let that mudblood best you yet again, it really would be nice if you put in some effort with your studies.” You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. You were second in your class, only behind Hermione Granger who, very obviously, was the smartest witch to come out of your generation. She was actually a sweet girl, and your mother’s use of the derogatory term turned your stomach.

You had hoped that was the gist of the letter, but your mother’s voice continued, “Your father and I also received the latest Hogwarts Herald. The photo they used of you from the last quidditch match really was awful, seems like you’ve quite a bit…larger than when you left this fall. Please remember to pace yourself at meals, chew at least twenty times before you swallow. It’ll trick your mind to think you’re fully, trust me. You’ll thank me for it later. Also, please remember to pack your nicer clothing when you come home for Holiday. You know how important those parties are for your father.” With that the letter floated down to your desk, reverting back to a simple piece of parchment.

You let out a shuttered breath, not even aware you were holding it in. Your eyes brimming with tears. “Y/n/n…” you turn your head at the sound of Mattheo’s voice, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before standing up, trying to compose yourself. “Oh, hey Teo, what’s up?” He looked at you with sad eyes, “Was that your mum?” You nodded, putting on a smile the best you could, “Yeah, she’s, erm, just really passionate about her beliefs. No big deal, how much, uh, how much did you happen to hear?” Mattheo walked closer to you, “Heard that she wants you to starve yourself, why on earth would she say something like that?”

He went to place his hands on your hips, but you pushed them away. You walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge. Mattheo turned in his spot, “You know what she says isn’t true, don’t you, love?” You shrugged your shoulders, unsure of yourself. “Princess, you are so absolutely breathtaking. You are so strong, one of the toughest beaters I know, you’re the reason we won the last five games, that’s why they took that photo of you.” He was standing in front of you now, holding your hands in his. He brought one up to his lips, kissing your palm, then the inside of your wrist before guiding you to wrap your hand around his neck. “Every curve of your body,” his hands roaming up your sides now, “Merlin, I’m so obsessed with you.” His forehead rested against yours, noses brushing, “Don’t listen to her cruel words, because if I had it my way I’d worship you, every part of you, every night, every day.” He tilted your chin up, connecting his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, gentle, like he was breathing you in. He broke apart, a little sooner than you would have liked. He then walked around, climbing onto the bed behind you, “C’mere, let’s lay down. I wanna keep telling you how perfect you are.” His arms stretched out and you immediately climbed into his embrace. You spent the rest of the night like that, wrapped in his arms.

#p's blurbs #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader

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tomriddleslove · 3 months

Text

Pt 3 - Always.

Theodore Nott x Reader

Pt 2 here

Summary: The one where the anticipated week long holiday between the friendship group turns into a certified nightmare. Alternatively: You accidentally end up rooming with Theodore.

A/N: WE’VE ENTERED THE HOLIDAY PART AND I CANT WAIT FOR WHERE THIS IS GOING TO GO WOOOOHHH

I promise the angst will eventually subside (eventually.)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Songs: I know you - Faye Webster

I wait for you - Alex G

By some miracle, you had all managed to get through the weeks leading up to the summer holidays and were due to travel to Pansy’s family home today. The monotony of pouring over books, frantically rummaging through essays you had written on scrolls of parchment looking for your notes had finally paid off, and exams were done. Pansy had been raving on and on about just how beautiful the quaint villa was (which seemed to be a bit of a juxtaposition) , and how they'd all have a great time. Whilst you did look forward to it, you were reminded of who would be there.

Theodore.

After that conversation in the library, things had gone from worse to even worse. In some cruel twist of fate, you seemed to see Theodore everywhere now, yet his increased presence seemed only to solidify just how much of a gap there was between the two of you.

Spending a week together both seemed terrifying and cruelly humorous. A kind of plot from a shitty rom-com, though you doubted it would turn out for the better.

The once lively (arguably messy) dorm room you shared with Pansy was now barren and bare, your belongings packed away as you waited for Pansy to finish…

Tapping the walls?

“Pans, what on earth are you doing?” You ask, and she continues knocking on random places on the wall, letting out a groan of frustration.

“I swear I had it hidden somewhere! I refuse to let some snotty little 6th-year find it.” She grumbles.

“What the fuck are you looking for? Maybe if you told me it would be a bit easier.” You respond exasperatedly, nearing your wits ends.

“My weed! I kept a stash hidden somewhere when we first came but I've been leeching off Enzo! Now I can't find it!” She huffs, throwing her arms up exasperatedly. You roll your eyes and resist the urge to slap her upside the back of her head.

“You idiot, I packed that away.” You snap, and she furrows her brows.

“What? When?” She says, and you begin to wonder whether you should even bother.

“Merlin Pansy, is your memory that bad? You asked me to take it.” You chide. Her look of confusion merges into a sheepish smile.

“Oh… Thanks!” She says, beaming as she slings her bag over her shoulder.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time as you lug your bags downstairs.

“Finally.” Draco proclaimed, ushering the attention of the group as they looked up to see you and Pansy descending. Blaise immediately goes over to take Pansy's suitcase, and she looks up at him with a bashful smile.

Woah.

What?

You raise a brow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. Lorenzo comes over to help you with your trunks, and he leans closer to you.

“You're seeing it too, right? Smitten with one another.” He whispers.

“Since when? She was flirting with Belby about a week or so ago.” you say, raising a brown.

“Exactly. Notice how Blaise wasn't there? He left for a reason.” Lorenzo gushes, as though you both were 12 and at a sleepover. You giggle lightly.

“Wanna bet on when they'll get together?” You offer, and Lorenzo nods.

“Easy. They're both too damn stubborn to confess so I bet it’ll be after the trip.” He says.

You let out a loud laugh, and they all turn to look at you and Lorenzo. Pansy raises a brow, but you're looking elsewhere. Theodore looks over at you, and how Lorenzo is leaning close to you. He has to tear his eyes away, and he swallows harshly.

It was incredible how one person could change your mood so quickly.

Stupid, really, just how much one person could affect you. You clear your throat and turn back to Lorenzo.

“I bet they'll get together during the trip. 5 Galleons?” You ask, holding out your hand. Lorenzo eyes you suspiciously, then shakes your hand.

“Deal.” He says, and a wicked grin graces your face.

“Great. That means I can do this then.” You say, walking over to Pansy and Blaise.

“Pans, can you be a dear for me? I want to room with Lorenzo, so can you room with Blaise instead please?” You plead.

Blaise raises a brow and Pansy looks at you with a pointed glare

You were helping her (and perhaps yourself).

“Isn’t Loren-” Blaise starts but you quickly cut him off.

“Please, pansy?” You say, your voice strained. You really wanted those 5 galleons. Pansy is nervous but somehow also, you can tell she’s excited. You're probing her onwards, and with a shy smile (Once again, so out of character for her), she accepts.

“Alright- only if you don't mind, Blaise?” She says, looking up at him.

He grins as he looks down at her and you watch the two with an amused look on your face.

Hopeless, really. You give it a day or two before they're together.

“Of course.” He agreed.

Damn, you were good. With a cheeky grin, you turn back to Lorenzo and wiggle your eyebrows. You had the win in the bag. You leave the two and walk back to Lorenzo, grinning as you approach him.

“Don't hate the player, hate the game” You brag, and Lorenzo has to suppress a smile.

“Good Job. You forgot one thing though, sweetheart. I’m sharing a room with Mattheo.” Lorenzo quips, and your expression drops.

“What? Pansy said-” You protest, and Lorenzo laughed.

“Yeah, originally I was sharing a room with Draco. But Draco demanded his own room because he refused to share and Mattheo ended up with me instead.” He continues.

It takes a second for the gears in your head to turn, and then you realise.

If there are 4 bedrooms, and Blaise and Pansy are in one, Mattheo and Lorenzo in the other, Draco on his own in the third, that leaves you and...

Theodore.

You were going to strangle the life out of the greasy blonde-haired git. Damn him and his scrawny little princess ass.

You suddenly feel very sick. Perhaps you should stay in Hogwarts. Summer with Snape sounds riveting now, doesn't it?

You take a deep breath, trying to hide your disappointment, but Lorenzo sees right through you and bursts into laughter.

"Looks like the game just got a whole lot more interesting, huh?" he teases, patting you on the back. You shoot him a mock glare, but inside, you're already plotting how you’ll get through this.

May the heavens above help you.

As you stood outside the, admittedly stunning villa, you began to wonder whether you could brave sleeping outdoors for a week. The old French villa stands gracefully amidst lush gardens and towering trees, exuding an air of timeless elegance. Its weathered façade is adorned with intricate wrought-iron balconies and climbing vines. A cobbled pathway leads to an arched entrance adorned with a rustic wooden door. The entrance is flanked by tall windows with faded shutters, each window framed by ornate carvings that add a touch of sophistication.

As you step inside, the foyer unfolds, grand and established. A winding staircase leads upwards, and you can't even begin to imagine how damn expensive this place was.

The rooms are filled with antique furniture and large windows adorned with heavy curtains that allow dappled sunlight to filter through, casting a warm glow on the Persian rugs that cover the floor.

Nevermind. You could tolerate it.

The group of you stand in the foyer, looking around.

“Well shit…” Mattheo murmurs under his breath, looking around. You agree with him. You couldn't even begin to comprehend how wealthy your friends were. It felt almost alienating, somehow. The rest of them seemed accustomed to such luxuries, it seemed only Mattheo and yourself weren't.

“Right. There are two en suites and two regular rooms. Blaise and I will have the first ensuite, and You and Theodore get the other. It's all the way on the top floor.” Pnays says, and you nod, insides churning at the reminder of having to share a room with Theodore. You don't even turn to look at him.

“How come you two get en suites?” Mattheo complains, and Pansy turns to him, rolling her eyes.

“Because you dimwit, we need privacy for changing. We can't exactly just strip naked in front of Blaise and Theodore.” Pansy pointed out, motioning between yourself and her.

You loved Pansy, you really did, but why did she have to word it like that? You groan internally, shaking your head.

“I'm sure they'll be doing it anyway..” Lorenzo mumbles to you, and you snicker as you look over at Blaise and Pansy. Agreeing to meet downstairs in an hour to order food, you all make your way up to your respective rooms.

You hurl your suitcase up the steps, hyper-aware of Theodore walking just behind you. You climb up the first set of stairs and look up. A solid three more sets to go.

What the hell? 4 floors and 4 bedrooms? What kind of architectural fuck up was this? It seemed now like you had bricks in your bag because the task of getting up those remaining three flights of stairs seemed near impossible.

You pulled out of your mini crisis embarrassingly quick as fingers brushed against yours. You spin around, spotting Theodore. He's reaching down for your bag, and he looks up, eyes meeting yours.

You hated him.

You loved him.

You loathed him.

You didn't know which one mattered more.

“Let me take it.” He offers, clearing his throat, and suddenly you've lost the ability to speak.

You nod in agreement, too caught off guard by the unexpected gesture to form coherent words. Theodore effortlessly lifts the suitcase as if it were weightless, and you watch the play of muscles beneath his shirt as he ascends the staircase with ease.

You berate yourself for being so shameless.

You follow him, trying to shake off the strange mix of emotions swirling within you. Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you reach the landing, now standing just outside the door of your shared room.

"Thanks," you manage to mumble, avoiding eye contact as Theodore sets your suitcase down inside the room. He nods in acknowledgement, his expression unreadable.

As you enter the room, you're greeted by a quaint and cosy little room. Luckily, there are two separate beds, though they are pushed together to form one larger one. You'll be sure to move them apart.

Theodore clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I guess this is our room for the trip," he remarks, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah," you reply, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The air between you two is charged with unspoken tension, and the weight of the realisation settles in. Fate, it seems, had a peculiar sense of humour.

"Listen, about earlier," Theodore starts, his gaze searching yours, but you cut him off swiftly.

“Don’t. There's nothing to talk about.” You say, brushing past him as you walk into the room. You have your back faced to him, face bright red as you begin unpacking, actions more forceful than you intended them to be.

Theodore remains silent for a moment, respecting your need for space. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you as you unpack, each movement deliberate and almost aggressive.

You hear Theodore take a deep breath behind you, and then he speaks, his voice breaking, tinged with an underlying vulnerability. "Please. Just, look at me." He pleads.

You clench your jaw, your hands gripping the edges of your suitcase. You turn around, meeting his gaze with a steely expression.

You swear your heart breaks. He’s frowning, and he looks on the verge of tears.

Stupid. This was so, so stupid.

“Look. Nothing is going on. Nothing happened, ok? I'm fine.” You say, though it's a blatant lie. You grab your sweater and book, considering pushing past him again on your way out as you speak.

You don't want to carry on like this. It hurt.

“Yeah, sure," Theodore replies, his voice now strained and forced into an artificial calm. "Nothing happened."

You want to believe it, to believe that you can bury the complicated mess of emotions that surged to the surface earlier. As you step into the hallway, you take a deep breath, plastering a fake smile on your face.

Theodore follows suit, and together you make your way downstairs to join the others. The air is thick with tension, but the group seems oblivious, immersed in arguments over food.

Pansy looks at you curiously, her keen eyes noting the shift in dynamics, but she chooses not to pry. Blaise seems absorbed in his thoughts, Lorenzo is engaged in animated conversation with Mattheo, and Draco appears indifferent to the subtle changes in the atmosphere.

No one notices anything, and you're very convinced it's because nothing really existed in the first place. You walk over to where Matteho is sitting on the sofa and take a seat next to him. He wraps an arm around you, drawing you in close as he continues speaking to Lorenzo.

“Hey, stimp.” Mattheo says, rubbing your arm as he looks down at you.

Sidenote: The nickname stimp originated from when Pansy had gone through a phase of calling everyone ‘stink’. You had no idea what she was saying and thought she was calling everyone stimp. You were relentlessly tormented by the group for thinking so, and it's stuck since then (courtesy of Mattheo.)

“Hey.” You mumble into his chest. He chuckles, fiddling with your hair lightly as he goes back to his conversation with Lorenzo.

Your mind (as it so often did) lingers back to Theodore. Your stomach aches because of it.

He's a tempest, a tempest that lingers in the recesses of your soul, tearing through the tranquillity with an unrelenting force.

You're weary, though these past few days with Theodore have made you constantly feel that way. You become tuned out from the conversations of your friends, feeling oddly like a spectator.

Your eyes grow heavy, and whether it's to your dismay or relief, you fall asleep with Theodore on your mind.

You could have sworn you fell asleep in the living room, curled into Mattheo. So when your eyes flicker open, and you're blinking wearily, sitting up in your bed, you're heavily disoriented.

A sleepy groan escapes your lips as you gingerly sit up, looking around. Theodore is lying in his bed, and you're very quickly aware of the fact that he separated them.

His eyes flicker over to yours at the sound of you stirring, a book loosely held in his hands.

Your eyes flicker down to the cover of the book and you're surprised at how quickly you feel sick again. It was getting rather tiring, really.

How long was he reading for? Was he thinking of you as he read? Did he read and look over at you?

“I saved some food for you.” He says after a beat. He looks at you, as though he wants to say more, and you see the conflict in his mind. He looks back down, and you feel slightly disappointed.

“Thanks.” You croak quietly, gingerly slipping out of bed. You sit on the edge for a second, back facing Theodore as you orient yourself for a bit before you slide on some slippers. You yawn and get up, tossing the covers back as you make your way downstairs. You blindly grope the walls as you warily descend the stairs in the pitch-black darkness, praying you didn't send yourself tumbling down.

Your fingers brush against a light switch and you let out a small sigh of relief as you flick the lights on.

God, how late was it?

You finally manage to stumble into the kitchen, the warm lights illuminating the otherwise barren place. The house is silent, and you assume it must be very late, judging by the way your friends (who almost exclusively lived between the hours of 11:00 - 02:00) were not awake. You shouldn't be eating at this time, especially because you planned to sleep right after, but you were starving and hadn't eaten prior.

You open what you assume to be the fridge (because god forbid rich people be like the rest of us and have normal-looking things), and see two small containers and a pizza box. You're impressed Draco (who though incredibly slender seemed to have the appetite of a growing giant) hadn't eaten it yet. You open the pizza box first and feel immediately better when you see the order. It's exactly what you like, there's garlic butter on the crust, and olives on every slice. There are tomatoes but it's on the side because you hate cooked tomatoes, and there's your favourite sauce as well (Blaise almost cried bloody murder when he saw you dipping your pizza in mayo a few years ago. You swore it was good.)

With a small smile on your face, you peer into the other two containers. One is full of strawberries, and your mouth waters.

You absolutely adored strawberries, and these looked plump and fresh, a far cry from the sad little things you'd get in Hogsmeade, on rare occasions. You can't resist biting into one and letting out a small groan of satisfaction as you do.

This had to be what heaven felt like, surely. You swore these alone could make you ascend. You pull out the container and snack on some, looking up as you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Pansy yawns as she saunters into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She's evidently sleepy, reaching for a glass of water as she speaks.

“You're finally up.” She mumbles groggily, leaning against the counter.

You nod.

“Woke up a few minutes ago. Thank you for ordering some pizza for me. You got it spot on.” You say with a small smile, and Pansy dismisses you with a small flick of her hand, as she sets the glass down.

“Oh no no, it wasn't me. We all ordered some sushi because Blaise knew a place. Theodore went out and got all that for you. He disappeared for like three bloody hours and we thought he got kidnapped or something. Turns out it’s very hard to find a good pizza place here.” Pansy says.

You blink in surprise at Pansy’s revelation. You have to stop yourself from dropping your jaw because you couldn't deal with her question right now, especially because…

What the fuck?

Why? How?

Why?

You can barely comprehend Theodore could remember all those things about you. Little things that you yourself wouldn't even notice. By the looks of it even your closest friend, Pansy, didn't even know that.

He went out of his way to get that for you?

It's an odd mixture of emotions — appreciation, confusion, and a tinge of frustration. Frustration because he was being so damn confusing. Ignoring you but then knowing everything about you. Not talking to you and then confessing he's been searching for you in everything he does. Remaining distant but doing things that made your heart flutter and guilt flood your being.

Pansy is watching you intently, ever observant. She gives you a once over, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

“Night then.” She says, turning back to go to her room.

Even Pansy, who was ever known for being careless and prying, knew right now that this was something that went so much further than her best friend having a silly crush on someone. She didn’t need to know the history between you and Theodore to know this was something serious, and her reserved and understanding behaviour only seemed to scare you more. You remain staring off for a second as she retreats before you close the container, slipping it back into the fridge

(You'd hex Draco's teeth onto his toes if he dared to touch them.)

You make your way back up to your room, and by the time you enter Theodore is no longer reading, rather he's asleep in his bed.

His bedside lamp is off, but yours is on. You look at him for a second, and you're grateful that he's asleep because you didn't know what to say, or how to face him. You quietly retreat into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth before slipping back into the bedroom. You slip under the covers of your bed, tugging the blanket over you as you sink into the infuriatingly comfy mattress (How you'd be able to find sleep again back at Hogwarts after this, you never knew. This made your dorm bed feel like you were sleeping on a slab of concrete. If this home isn't being used by Pansy and her family till the holiday, you seriously considered breaking in and living here in the meantime.)

You and Theo are sleeping on opposite sides of the room, backs facing away from one another. Your bed is facing the window, which you're glad about because you couldn't sleep otherwise. A small voice in your mind questions if that was Theodore’s doing as well.

The silence is broken as you speak, words you only dare to utter because Theodore is asleep.

“Thank you.” You whisper, quietly.

Silence follows, and you let out a small breath because, of course, there's silence, Theodore is asleep. You find your own eyes drifting shut very quickly, slipping away into sleep.

You feel as though you're sinking, and you can't tell if it's because you're tired or spiralling.

In the quiet darkness, you find yourself teetering on the cusp of sleep. You're in that nearly there phase, where you feel simultaneously weightless and heavy. You're half-conscious, dreams blurring the line of reality. You're drifting away, and you swear you hear a whisper, gentle and barely audible in a voice that sounds very similar to Theodore.

"Always."

@camille-1019

#harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #theo #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott angst #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson

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frost-queen · 2 months

Text

Starcrossed lovers // part 3 (Reader x Peter Parker) NWH

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @minimin1993, @narniansmagic, @benonlinear, @canthebest1, @mellowdreamlandpost-blog, @thewhitewolfmarvel, @freek12569, @bookloverfilmoholic, @cigarettedaydreamsandcofee, @qalijahbydior, @gabriella-aesthetic, @fallenxjas

Summary: Peter would do anything to get back to you. Hoping with the help of the sorcerer of his earth, he will reach his goals. Will he venture through earths? If so what would he find beyond? [ part 1 & part 2 & part 4 & part 5 ]

Aunt May knocked on Peter’s door. There wasn’t an immediate response so she was hesitant to go in anyways. – “Peter?” – she spoke knocking once more. Listening in on the door, she still had no response. Having a bit enough of it, she tried to open the door, only to be greeted by a blunt force. The door wasn’t budging as far as she wanted. Something in front of it preventing the door from opening more. – “Peter! What is blocking the door.” – she called out through the crack.

She kept pushed the door in an attempt to get the thing in front of the door to move. She gave it a hard push, hearing books drop to the ground. – “Peter!” – she repeated being able to open the door a bit more, seeing the ravage in his room. Books and papers scattered around like mad man’s house. Peter sat on his bed, lifting his head up with confused hum.

The moment he saw Aunt May trying to havoc her way through, he jumped up to assist her. He picked up some books, laying them aside on another piling stack on his desk to clear the way. – “What is the meaning of this?” – she asked too stunned to understand more.

Peter picked up some paper from the floor, holding it in his hand. He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. – “It’s a hobby.” – he answered sheepishly. Aunt May looked around, her expression with disgust. – “More like an obsession.” – she muttered trying to make her way further into his room. She picked up a book to read the title. – “Dimension travels?” – she questioned loudly, holding the book up to Peter.

“That’s… that’s…” – Peter answered making his way over to her. He snatched the book from her, keeping it close to his chest. Her eyes fell on some drawings as she showed them to him. – “Portals? Space travels? Peter what are you on about?” – she asked desperate. Peter took the drawings from her, looking saddened down at them.

“You… you wouldn’t understand.” – he simply said. – “Then let me try? Peter you’ve been neglecting your life with this obsession.” – she lectured hating to see him like this. – “It’s not an obsession!” – Peter shouted at her, losing a bit of his temper.

It startled Aunt May. He immediately regretted losing his temper like that against her. – “I’m… I’m sorry Aunt May.” – he apologized. Aunt May sympathized coming closer to him. – “I know you are struggling after Y/n’s death…” – she said touching his cheek. – “But you have to let her go.” – she begged wanting to hug him.

Peter backed away, not wanting her pity. – “I can’t.” – he told her. – “Peter look around! You’re going down a path I cannot follow. Y/n is gone and you have to accept that.” – she slightly raised her voice to get through to him. – “Don’t say that!” – he shouted back at her, not wanting to hear it.

You were not gone. You were just on another earth, far away from him. – “Peter!” – Aunt May yelled losing her composure. – “Y/n is dead and you are just going to have to accept that! Now get dressed and get to work!” – Aunt May finally had enough. She had snapped and acted it out on Peter.

Peter moved towards her, grabbing her by the arm to push her out of his room. He shut the door hard in her face. He had never done this and felt a bit ashamed of it. It was just, she wasn’t understanding it. How could he move on from you, knowing you were alive on another earth. Now that he had tasted sweetness, he craved more.

Peter looked down at the drawing of Strange’s portal he had drawn himself ever since he came back. Strange. His eyes widened realizing something. Peter got dressed and ran out of the house. – “Peter?” – Aunt May asked as he completely ignored her and rushed out. She sighed soft, hoping she wasn’t too harsh on him and that he soon forgave her. Peter hopped onto the first subway, taking him to his destination. If your earth had a Spiderman, his earth should have a Dr. Strange as well. Right?

Only one way to find out. Peter stared out of the window as the subway rushed past. He briefly looked down at his phone, lighting his screen up with a picture of you and him. – “I’m coming for you Y/n.” – he whispered blackening the screen again. Finding Strange wasn’t easy. He had little information of the man. He searched the streets thoroughly. Looking at each face to one that would match the description of the wizard he had known on your earth.

When that was a wild goose chase, he decided to focus on the building. Something Peter, your Peter had told him. He tried searching it up with little results. Groaning frustrated, he started to wonder if he even existed here. – “Where the hell is this man!” – Peter called out, making some by-passers turn their head and stare confused at him.

Feeling a bit lost in a foreign city, Peter was ready to give up. He seated himself down on some stone steps leading to a big door. Exhaling deep he let his head fall back against the door. Closing his eyes, he didn’t want to cry. The feeling of letting you slip through his fingers again was agony. It was pure hell. Being so close, yet not close enough. The door knob turned as the door opened. Peter’s eyes widened open as he felt the space behind him disappear.

He called it out when he fell backwards. With a loud oof he hit the hard floor. Opening his eyes a bit, he was greeted by a face looking down at him. Excitement reached him as he pointed heartly up to the man. – “You’re… you’re Strange!” – he exclaimed recognizing the same features of the man from your earth. – “That is doctor to you.” – Strange answered in a deep voice.

"Now get off my doorstep kid!” – Strange called out, ushering him away. – “No wait Sir!” – Peter replied waving his hands in front of him. Strange was about to close the door on him as Peter looked further back into the mansion. Stretching his arm out, he let out a web, letting himself be dragged inside right through Strange’s legs.

Strange stared stunned at the empty spot, turning his head rapidly back. – “How did you?” – he said both stunned and annoyed. Peter jumped to his feet. – “I need to talk to you.” – Peter started, panting a bit. – “Okay bye, bye kid.” – Strange said opening a portal that would flung itself at Peter. Peter gasped jumping up as he kept his hand on the ceiling. Strange’s portal passed right under him.

Strange looked surprised up to his ceiling, seeing the boy hang on it with just one hand. – “You are one annoying kid.” – Stephen sighed out. Peter dropped down on the ground. – “Listen sir… doctor.” – he corrected himself seeing the quirked eyebrow of Strange. – “I need your help. I need you to let me travel through one of your portals.” – Peter began.

Stephan laughed loud. – “I don’t have to do anything, and certainly not for breaking in kids like you.” – he pointed at Peter. Stephen turned away to a table to set himself a cup of coffee. – “Doctor please… I need to get to her earth.” – Peter explained with desperation.

Stephen spit out his coffee, turning a warningly eye at Peter. – “Did you just say her earth?” – he repeated to be sure, he had heard it correctly. – “Yes.” – Peter expressed approaching him. – “I need you to take me to her earth. You see I travelled through earths before… not so long ago some kid brought me to their earth.” – Peter explained further. Stephen hummed loud, scratching his jaw.

“I found out that someone from my earth is still alive there. She would’ve been here if it wasn’t for you!” – Peter accused. He swallowed nervously at the sudden stern glare from Strange. – “I mean your other you… not you doctor…” – Peter said to clarify. Stephen sat his cup down on the table.

“So you are telling me you travelled through earths and this other me… did this?” – Stephen asked so he was sure he understood. Peter nodded. Stephen hummed loud thoughtfully. – “So this other me travelled through parallel worlds?” – he asked.

“I don’t know… I guess… I did for sure.” – Peter replied. Stephen hummed again, deep in thoughts. – “Will… will you help me?” – Peter asked. Stephen grabbed Peter firm by the shoulder giving it a hard squeeze. – “First I need you to tell me everything!” – he led Peter further into the mansion. Peter swallowed nervously, suddenly not so sure of this man’s intentions, but he was his only hope to getting back to you. Peter explained his experience fully to him.

He told him about the portal. The other Spiderman, the villains, you. He told him everything. He explained his cause for him to understand better. – “So… so can you help me?” – Peter questioned nervously. Stephen stared at him. – “No…” – Strange answered getting up and turning his back to Peter. – “But you said!” – Peter called out, getting up as well.

“You said you’d help me!” – Peter tried to get Strange to stop walking away from him. – “Stop running!” – Peter shouted shooting a web at him. Strange’s hand got attached to the doorframe, stopping him from going any further. – “I need her! You… you have no idea what it’s like to lose someone!” – Peter called out angry that he was going to do nothing.

“I do!” – Strange replied harsh, looking over his shoulder to him. – “But… but earth travel…” – he wanted to turn more to Peter, but was prevented cause of the web. He cursed at the web, trying to pull it off. – “Get this thing off me!” – he yelled making Peter rush at him to help him free. – “Earth travel is a dangerous thing kid. It’s not because she died here, you can simply replace her with another copy.” – he told him.

“She’s not a copy!” – Peter made clear with a glare. Stephen moved his hands up as a way it wasn’t meant for him to get defensive. – “She won’t belong here. What do you think the people would say that knew her? Her family? Their daughter risen from the dead?” – Stephen explained trying to reason with him. – “I’ll just move to another city with her.” – he answered. – “It’s not that simple kid.” – Strange sighed out. – “Please… just let me try… I just need you to open a portal to her earth, allow me to get her and bring her here.”

“And how do you think you’ll get back? I have no glass orb that can see when you are ready to leave kid.” – Stephen said giving another stomp in Peter’s dreams. – “I…I don’t know…” – Peter sighed out letting himself fall in a seat. Stephen took a deep breath, approaching him. – “Look I get it kid, you would do anything to get her back, but it isn’t that easy. It could create some serious issues.” – Stephen went on to explain.

“You can’t save everybody, kid.” – Stephen placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. – “I have… I have to try… I won’t forgive myself if I haven’t tried it at least.” – with desperation and sorrow, looked he up to Strange. Begging him to give him a try. To let him try it. – “Wouldn’t you try it if it was about the one you loved? Wouldn’t you give everything just to be with her again?”

“I would.” – Strange answered thinking back of Christine. The girl he let slip through his fingers because of his own mistakes. His own bitterness and rudeness had pushed her away. He took her for granted and now all was lost. Married off to someone else, that never could be him. Peter felt hopeful from Strange’s reaction. Stephen clapped loud in his hands. – “Alright kid! Let’s break through the walls of space.” – he announced.

Peter jumped back up following Strange with a new hope. It took them several days to get even close to their mission. Figuring out a good plan to get Peter in and out along with you. To find a way to travel through earths. Finally the day had come for their experiment. Peter stood ready, anxious to enter your world once more. – “Here.” – Strange said holding out a watch.

Peter accepted it questionable. – “It will allow you to open your own portal once you have her.” – he told him. – “Where did you get this?” – Peter asked. – “An ant gave it to me.” – Stephen answered with a chuckle, leaving Peter confused. Peter put on the watch over his spiderman suit.

“What earth was she on again?” – Stephen asked. – “Earth-199999.” – Peter replied, having remembered the numbers so thoughtfully. Stephen looked at the drawing Peter had made of the very place he entered your earth first. – “Let’s hope this works kid… if not… it was nice knowing you.” – he commented casually making Peter gulp. –“Thank… thank you Doctor.” – Peter said holding his hand out.

“Please…” – Stephen answered grabbing his hand to shake. – “Call me Stephen.” – Peter smiled feeling as if he had made an alley, perhaps even a friend. All those days spend with him using his wits on science and Strange’s wits on sorcery brought them closer. – “Ready?” – Stephen asked. Peter put his mask on. – “Ready.” – he breathed out.

Stephen moved his hands across, circling a portal open. Tiny sparks frizzled in the centre. It made Peter nervous and anticipating the moment he’d see you again. The sparks grew bigger as Peter took a deep breath. Slowly he could see the other side as he slowly started to recognize it. He smiled underneath his mask. This was it.

The portal grew wider as it was wide enough for him to step through. With one last deep breath, he stepped forwards, traveling through earths. On the other side sat Ned at the table, eating cereal. His jaw dropped as his spoon clattered against the bowl from having fallen out of his hands. Peter took off his mask upon seeing Ned. He looked around to see if it was the room he remembered.

It was just as he remembered. – “Ned!” – Peter called out excited. Ned’s eyes widened in fear. – “You… you know my name…” – he said stuttering. – “Yes, Ned It’s me Peter Parker… I was here not so long ago… well I’m not sure just how long with all that space jumping.” – Peter replied, muttering the last bit to himself. Ned pointed at Peter and let out a loud scream of help. It startled and confused Peter.

“No, no, Ned. It’s me.” – Peter answered as Ned’s chair fell as he backed away. Ned screamed again in fear. – “Ned!” – Peter called out moving closer to him. Ned took off as Peter shot a web out to him. Ned got stuck against the wall. – “Sorry.” – Peter apologized with his hands up. – “You were panicking Ned. I can’t have you panic.” – Peter went on, nearing Ned. – “I don’t have any money.” – Ned squeaked out, struggling against the web. Peter frowned. – “I don’t want your money.”

Peter sighed feeling as he wasn’t going anywhere with him. – “Look…” – Peter said pinching his nose bridge. – “Just tell me where I can find Y/n.” – Peter asked. – “Y/n? What do you want with Y/n?” – Ned questioned suddenly less fearful. – “Are you going to use her for your evil plan?” – Ned called out. – “Evil plan? What no Ned!” – Peter answered confused. – “I am just looking for her.” – Ned turned his head. – “I won’t tell you anything villain!” – Ned shouted, confusing Peter more.

He started to realize something might be wrong, but he had no time for it. – “Just tell me where she is!” – he called out desperately grabbing a hold of Ned. Ned sobbed out the address. Peter thanked Ned, releasing him once again before going after you. He shot out a web, flying above the city between the buildings to reach his destination sooner. Excitement took over as he felt himself smile. Finally he was going to be reunited with you again. His pride and glory.

Peter dropped down on the ground, staring at you through the window. There you were. Just within reach. Sitting down in a small coffee shop surrounded by books. Taking a deep breath, he let himself in. Not caring one bit if people stared at his costume without the mask. He neared your table. You sensed someone approaching, slowly looking up. – “Hi.” – he spoke almost fragile. – “Hi.” – you responded. The person smiled saddened.

You kept smiling at him, till it felt a bit awkward. – “I’m sorry, am I taking in your spot?” – you asked. Peter’s smile dropped, shaking his head confused. – “What.. no…” – he sputtered out. He had expected you to jump in his arms. To be rejoiced at his return, yet you remained seated. Staring a bit strange at him. – “Y/n… it’s me.. Peter… Peter Parker.” – he said feeling silly to remind you of it. You tilted your head a bit with furrowed brows.

You then laughed loud. – “Funny joke. You look nothing like that nerd Peter Parker. Also what’s with the costume? It’s far from Halloween.” – you told him. Peter blinked confused back at you. – “Don’t… don’t you remember?” – he asked softly. – “Remember what?” – you questioned. – “Me?” – Peter pointed at himself with desperation. You smiled soft. – “I think I would remember meeting someone like you, but I don’t… sorry…” – you replied.

Peter turned around with a disappointed exhale. Why didn’t you remember him? Unless… - “Strange’s spell.” – Peter blurted out.

-----------------------------------------

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spindrifters · 4 months

Text

In honor of impmas 2024, I present to you good godfather sirius black and the one and only time I will ever write harry, ft. some groupchat crack treated seriously. happy birthday, @impishtubist!

“Where have you been?”

Harry jumps, the uncanny impersonation of Molly Weasley reverberating through the dusty rafters and black lacquer front hall of Grimmauld Place. Sirius smirks, grabs the lanky fifteen year-old by the scruff and pulls him into an all-encompassing hug.

“Didn’t half scare me, Sirius,” Harry grumbles into his chest, and there’s the whisper of an attempt to pull away, but his heart isn’t really in it. In any case, Sirius doesn’t let him go, just buries a grin into that mess of hair. Lemongrass shampoo and London grime.

“Serves you right, sneaking off in the middle of the night.”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

“No? What time d’you call this, then?”

“A perfectly appropriate time of night to go for a walk,” his godson continues to grouse. “Needed to clear my head.” Only it doesn’t escape his notice that there hasn’t been another attempt to pull away. And he’s not wrong. It’s barely half eleven, only Harry’s at double risk on his own these days. If not Death Eaters or another bloody dementor, then the press who’ll hound him to the ends of the earth should they catch sight of the Boy Who Lied—fucking cunts—alone on walkabout without so much as his friends for a buffer. There’s a reason the Order’s got about ten layers of protocol surrounding his protection at all times. If it were anyone else who’d caught him slipping in through the front door, there’d be hell to pay.

Harry’s not stupid, though. Far from it, Sirius thinks, that old pride swelling in his chest. And he’s got James’s cloak for good measure, clutched in a hand that smells of hot concrete and pigeon shit.

Harry seems to sag against his chest, Sirius’s hand still wrapped around his nape. Summer sweat of a teenage boy on the brink of becoming a man.

“Knut for your thoughts?”

“M’fine.”

Liar.

These are the things, then. The little tells beyond the way Harry strains toward him like a houseplant yearning for the sun. It’s not the same as sniffing out smells—daffodils and murtlap essence and the endless putrid fecal stench of Azkaban—but it’s just as strong. Pheromones or some muggle toss like that, something he might ask Hermione Granger about if he remembers before she heads back off to school.

It’s something Sirius noticed a long time ago, the change that happened in fifth year when his own heightened senses were lent keener by the dog that now lived inside. He remembers that Prongs was bright and coppery like triumph when he stepped off the Quidditch pitch, or cinnamon-fresh like home. He remembers being sixteen, frustrated and hormonal and knowing he’d die on the spot if anyone caught him with his nose buried in Moony’s discarded trousers to see if there was anything there that might even hint he wasn’t alone in this.

And Harry…

Something sour signaling frustration. Harsh metallic that means fear. Beneath that, the sweet damp scent of hurt. Sirius can hardly blame him. Fuck Peter Pettigrew, if he ever gets out of this fucking godforsaken house arrest, Merline Maitland and the rest of her staff at the Prophet are at the very top of his hit list.

“Go to bed,” he tells him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow, one that smells of rubbish bins lining the streets for the morning to come.

Green eyes flick up, half shock. “Thought I’d get it in the neck.”

“Nah,” says Sirius, guiding him up the stairs. “Just let me know next time. Maybe Snuffles can come along, too.”

“Yeah,” says Harry, though they both know he won’t. Sirius doesn’t need to sniff that out to know. He still thinks he has to protect Sirius just as much as Sirius knows it's not his job to do it.

He’s a good boy, Prongs. Too good. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

And.

You’d be so bloody proud.

#good godfather sirius black #harry potter #sirius black #my fic #imp tag #impmas 2024

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whydon-twego · 10 months

Note

For your celebration prompt writing: i would absolutely love something about touch-starved (and maybe additionally emotionally repressed) Arthur. Angst with a hopeful/happy ending and perhaps also merthur would be peak but honestly do what you feel like with it. love your writing either way

Arthur knows he is doing the wrong thing.

Arthur knows that he would just like a gentle touch once in a while and a pat on the back and a voice saying "well done!"

Arthur knows that all this can never come from his father (except for things Arthur greatly despises doing, and what kind of man is Arthur if by now his line of thinking differs from the king's?) but he also knows that he could easily receive it from Merlin.

He would like to receive it from Merlin.

How many times did Merlin try to pat him on the back? To initiate a hug? Once he even tried to take his hand and Arthur found himself in a total panic, as he has never been in his life, not even in battle, and pushed him away.

Arthur is incapable of receiving affection. Morgana has always told him so. And even if she is not among the friendliest people on the face of the earth at least she can be herself with Gwen.

Why can't he?

Arthur watches Merlin walk back and forth across the room picking things up from the floor and complaining that Arthur is a pig and not a prince, that he should at least learn and keep the room tidy because it is one thing to be a manservant and another to be a slave.

Arthur nods and simply continues to stare at him.

It is strange how easy it is to be around Merlin.

It is strange how comfortable Arthur feels without the need to prove himself to be something he is not.

It is strange that he does not feel so at peace with himself even with Leon, with whom he has been squiring and is actually the person he has known the longest.

So why can't he accept a compliment? Why can't he accept a simple caress? Why can't he accept something he wants?

"Arthur, are you all right?"

Arthur looks up to find Merlin kneeling before him, the serious, contemplative face of someone who has probably tried to call him several times.

Arthur does not understand the question but nods anyway.

Merlin does not seem convinced.

It is with a certain kind of reverent shyness that Merlin raises a hand and shakes off Arthur's fringe, resting his cool palm on the other man's forehead.

Arthur leans heavily on that touch.

"Prat. You're burning up, that's why you're so quiet today, come on, I'll help you lie down."

Merlin passes an arm around his waist and helps him up and Arthur actually feels tired. Perhaps all those thoughts about Merlin stem from the fever and nothing more.

The fact that Merlin's arm around his waist makes him feel protected must surely be another symptom.

Finally, Arthur manages to lie down and Merlin is there with him, helping him undress and cover himself with blankets.

"You're an idiot. All you do is complain about irrelevant things but then you have to be stoic when you feel really bad" Merlin rolls his eyes and sighs but doesn't leave, remaining sitting on the edge of the bed looking at Arthur in that strange way that makes Arthur's guts twist and he can't decipher.

Then Merlin takes his hand (because Merlin is nothing if not persistent) and stays there, staring at him with a half-smile and intimating that he should sleep, that he will go to Gaius soon to get some medicine but that in the meantime he should try to bring his fever down with a nap.

Arthur, tired, nods and closes his eyes, Merlin's hand clasped between his and Merlin's smile etched in his mind.

Everything is already much better because Merlin is there with him.

Everything is already much better because Merlin is at his side.

Everything is already much better because Arthur is happy that Merlin is there with him, always.

A thought makes its way into Arthur's head and suddenly he opens his eyes again, bringing them to the figure of Merlin who is sitting next to him, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb and looking at him smiling, beautiful as the sun.

… Oh.

#merthur #merthur prompt #merthur fic #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #prince arthur pendragon #merlin prompt #merlin fic #merlin fanfic #merthur fanfic #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin fandom #bbc merthur #my writing

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shadowbriar · 1 year

Text

James Potter - Don’t Buy Me Flowers

Pairing : (F/M) || James Potter x Reader Word Count : 3k Warning : None I believe. Prompts : "I’d marry you right this instant.” Prompt request is still open. You can find the link to the prompt list here. Notes : Mixed this prompt request with the song Don’t Buy Me Flowers by Lolo Zouaï. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

James' eyes were glued on her. An unconscious smile decorating his face, cheeks slightly pink from admiration. She was sitting a few rows in front of him, giving him the safe distance to steal glances yet now have grown to rather resent the space between them.

Don’t ask him what happened cause he wouldn’t be able to piece the words together. She’s always been in his classes, after all. All James knew is that he couldn’t peel his eyes off of her now. As if she’s stunned him with a love charm or had spiked his morning drink with a love potion. He wouldn’t be complaining either way if such a scenario really did occur.

“Mr. Potter.” Professor McGonagall called for Merlin knows how many times. The only thing snapping him off of his daydream was a nudge from Sirius. James looked up, meeting the Head of Gryffindor’s eyes with a sheepish smile “Would you please tell the class exactly what I have explained for the last twenty minutes?”

James cleared his throat, being caught red handed now for not paying any attention, “I- Something about transfiguration?”

“Indeed.” Professor McGonagall said with a displeased tone “Perhaps if you would keep your eyes up front instead of gazing at your own peer, you could elaborate more than ‘something about transfiguration’.”

The whole class giggled, including her.

James, who was embarrassed of the stunt he pulled, now feels rather proud to have put a smile on her face. He grins as he steals a glance at her, hoping he doesn’t look as chaotic as the state of his heart at the moment. If only she knew she was the peer McGonagall was talking about.

The class continues with James who still couldn’t avert his gaze away from her. He watches her, mentally taking notes on the way she would tilt her head to the left when she’s trying to understand McGonagall’s words, or the way she taps her quill exactly three times on the inkwell before starting to write her notes, or the way she would mumble the words as she write on the parchment paper. Everything she does seems to be the most mesmerising thing James could ever witness.

Some time during the lesson, she turned to her shoulder for a brief moment. Their eyes met and she showed the slightest hint of smile before turning back to face McGonagall, afraid to put the boy in more trouble should she be caught. She didn’t know it then but those 7 seconds would serve as the blessings for his dreams to come. His heart swells, cheeks warm from the sudden rise of temperature around him.

“You might want to cover your face there, mate.” Sirius whispered “You’re looking as red as our house crest.”

“Shut up, Pads.”

—-

James huffed as he lifted the pot of Venomous Tentacula. A prank went wrong at the Greenhouses and just to his luck, or lack thereof, James was the only one caught of the four Marauders, earning him the punishment of cleaning up the mess and moving the plants from one Greenhouse to another. With every bead of sweat forming on his forehead, the vexation he has for his best friends only grows deeper. James couldn’t wait to get back to his dorm and hex each one of them.

Yet all the anger he feels evaporates to thin air as someone enters the greenhouse.

“Merlin!” She yelped, not expecting to meet someone “You scared me.”

James gulped, completely not believing his eyes. Perhaps the lack of food in his stomach has made him hallucinate. He’s been there working his arse since the sky was still bright, after all. There’s no way she would be here in the Greenhouse, especially at these late hours.

“Earth to Potter?” She says again, snapping her fingers “What are you doing here? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, right. I’m good.” He says fast, trying to compose himself as he dusts the dirt from his hands “Detention.”

She nods, “I see.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks this time, noticing a bouquet of flowers on her hands “Couldn’t be detention, I’m sure.”

“No, not detention.” She says with a smile, walking to the back of the Greenhouse to get an empty pot and some soil “I wanted to repot these flowers. Would be a pity to let them die.”

“But aren’t they already dead?” He asks with a raised eyebrow “I mean they’re cut from the stems, it’s only a matter of time till the petals dry and fall.”

“Well that’s why we’ve got wands, isn’t it Potter?”

James feels his cheeks heat up as he sees her smile. This is the most interaction they’ve had all year and exactly what did he dream last night to have such an opportunity to come? He could hardly remember the wrath he held to his friends nor the ache in his muscles after all these hours in the Greenhouse. A minute with her would do to charm his mood back to its default sunshine mode.

“A little bit of water and let’s hope these sweetness can survive.”

“What did you do?” He asks as he watches her water the pot now “With your wand and everything.”

“Some simple spell to help it grow its roots. They don’t always work so they would need extra care for the next few days.” She explains, eyes still glued on the newly planted flowers “I truly appreciate it when people would give me flowers, but I’d be lying if it doesn’t stress the living out of me.”

“You get plenty of flowers?”

“No, not plenty.” She answers with a smile “I’m not as lucky as Evans.”

James turns red. Just perfect. The girl he’s madly in love with now just has to know about his past failed attempts for his past crush. Well of course she knew, the whole castle knew just how big of a fool he was last year to have chased for the redhead’s attention. If only he could turn back time and slap his own self to sense.

“Well, I better get going now.” She says as she walks herself outside, smiling “I’ll see you around, Potter.”

—-

James waited in the Greenhouse with a smile plastered on his face. The plan was in motion. A whole week has passed and she hasn’t realised that he was the culprit responsible for placing a bouquet on her dorm every single morning.

It all started when the urge to kill the flowers she planted that night brewed inside his heart. The said plant was thriving in its pot, colours of its petals were vibrant and the leaves were the greenest he’s ever seen in a plant. Part of him was impressed at her skills for reviving it, but a bigger part of him hoped that she wasn’t as proficient because then she had no reason to come to the Greenhouse.

And that means no 10 minute lovely chats at night.

He wanted to ruin the innocent plant, rip its leaves or simply knock it off of the table but he couldn’t bear imagining the sad and disappointed look on her face when she finds out her plant has been messed with. Would she be able to forgive him if she knew he was the one responsible for such a catastrophe? No, he couldn’t take that much of a risk, not with the limited interaction they have just yet. He wouldn’t want to gamble their delicate relationship, his heart wouldn’t be able to survive if she ended up hating him.

So he decided to take the lighter way, to give her just a light stress that would hopefully turn into a blissful exchange for the both of them. He knew that she could revive the flowers, there’s really nothing to lose to his scheme. One of these days he hoped that he could make her fall for him, make her see that he’s not that bad of a lad to date.

“Evening.” She greets, breaking his train of thought as she enters the Greenhouse “You’re still here.”

“Yeah,” James answers shyly, lifting the pot of Screechsnap he was holding “Still moving these pots from one place to another.”

“I never knew the Professor was one to hold grudges.” She says as she walks to the other side of the Greenhouse “Most of the time students would only get a three day detention, a week at top. Yet you’re still here after, what, two weeks?”

James’ cheeks were warm. Truth be told his detention has ended days ago but he can’t really tell her that now, can he? Where else would they have their pleasant exchange if not here at the Greenhouse?

“Here to pot another flower?” He asks instead, trying to divert the discussion “You’ve been getting a handful of them lately.”

She looks down to the bouquet of flowers in her hands, smiling lightly, “Yeah, I wonder who they’re from. The sender never left any note so there’s no telling who my secret admirer is.”

“Is that so?” He says, faking an intrigued expression “So you have no idea who it is?”

She shrugs as she puts the flowers to the pot, starting her spell, “I have some possible names.”

“Names?” James raised his brows “How many possible lads are there?”

“What, you think you’re the only one with quite a fanclub?” She teases, smiling at him with such mischief “You’re not the only beautiful person in this castle, Potter.”

The boy went quiet. He knew that his face was red. He tried to calm himself, tone down the fast beating of his heart but what exactly can he do when she just complimented him? She did say that he’s one of the beautiful people in the castle. How does she not expect him to have his stomach flipped in giddiness?

“I have to say, though,” She continues “I wish that this person would just come forward or maybe give me a note on their flowers. Trying to revive them stresses me out. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I fail.”

“Come on, you’ve successfully revived each one of them. Surely the bliss of getting flowers overcomes the stress of reviving them.”

She shrugs, “Perhaps.”

He watches as she tends her flowers, watering each of them as she hums to some song. James could feel his heart swells tenfold, threatening to explode in bliss. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact of how blind he had been to only just noticed her. Merlin knows just how much he regrets not getting to know her sooner. Imagine the much time he could've saved had he known her since first year. They would have already been married by now.

James had never tried to impress anyone as much as he’s tried with her. He even checked out the thickest herbology book from the library, just so he could find a topic to talk with her. Though when the time comes, it only further proves his limited knowledge of such a topic as she keeps on correcting his faulty trivias. At least he made her laugh. A win is a win, he reckons.

“Did you know,” James began to speak, making her look up and face him with a smile “That Niffler’s Fancy was once used in replacement to coins due to its gleaming copper-like leaves?”

She shakes her head, “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Is that information credible?” She asks with a giggle, placing the watering can down “Because last time you told me Belladonna was used by ancient wizards to help with stomach problems when in fact, the plant is poisonous for human consumption.”

James smiles sheepishly, “That one was a mere human error, this one was real. I read it earlier in one of Remus’ books and even wrote it down on my palms, see?”

She walks closer to him, taking his hand and reading the writings on his palm. James had never felt such intense sensation than when their skin met in contact. She was oblivious to the frivolity he was in, as always, which in a way is a good thing because he wouldn’t want to weird her out with his heavy feelings for her. James has always been known to be a very expressive person when it comes to his feelings and oftentimes it only causes discomfort to the other party. He’s never been good at hiding his emotions, he was born to love proud and aloud, James Potter.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give this one trivia the benefit of the doubt.”

James nods, agreeing with her.

“You know, since you’re so full of herbology knowledge,” She says teasingly “Why don’t you come and help me tutor the second years this weekend? I’m sure those kids would flip to know that James Potter is not only skilled at the quidditch field but that he also has a charming wit.”

James had to bite his lip hard to suppress himself from combusting. The compliments she’s throwing at him tonight, though served in a casual and probably meant nothing for her, was making him fly through the clouds. Couldn’t she tell that he’s going mad?

“Sure, of course!” He answered cheerfully, nodding eagerly like a puppy “I’ll see you then.”

—-

Watching her with heart eyes, James wasn't sure what his hands were doing to the Mandrakes. Honestly he couldn't care less. In fact, he hoped to ruin them somehow and receive another detention. Anything just so he could spend more time with her. Well not precisely with her, seeing that their interaction is still as limited as ever, but close enough to study her. That much would suffice for his throbbing heart for the moment.

"You're going to have yourself killed if you continue picking their leaves like that." She commented with a giggle "If the Professor knew you're harming their precious plants, they'll have your head."

James grins, amused, "Will you tell them that I'm the culprit?"

"Maybe."

She walks past him with a teasing smile, a pot of Fluxweed plant on her hands. James could catch a sniff of her perfume, something he always craved to smell each morning when he woke up. His eyes were trained on her, not even trying to make it subtle as he grins even wider whenever she catches him staring. She would only shake her head, biting in the smile that’s threatening to decorate her face. James could only hope that he’s not making her uncomfortable with his apparent affection.

He should have known that going to help her tutor the second years would only be the death of him. There would be no way out of these feelings for the years to come, he’s sure of it. Watching her patiently explain and help the kids to take care of the plants only made him fall deeper into her magnetism. He couldn’t help but to think of how wonderful of a mother she would be.

The mother of his children, he hopes.

James blushes at the thought. How could he imagine having a family with her when he hasn’t even gathered the gut to ask her out? Compared to his previous attempts with Lily, James has been much more quieted down. He figured that one of the reasons he failed on his last endeavours was because of his strong and blatant ventures. Sirius says that girls like her would prefer boys who are more discreet, who would approach in the most gentle and soft way that made her heart flutter. And who best would understand girls, and boys, if not Sirius?

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” She remarks, staring at him with an apologetic smile “I’m sorry if the tutoring bores you.”

He gazes back at her eyes, feeling drowned in the alluring force that made him blurt out his mind, "I’d marry you right this instant.”

She blinks, looking baffled at his sudden confession.

“I- I mean-”

“We are only seventeen, you silly!” She giggles, playfully pushing on his arm “Besides, we can’t get married. Even if I wanted to.”

James frowns, the slight heartbreak evident on his face, “Why not?”

“Because of my secret admirer.” She answers with a teasing smile “Unless you’re that boy that has been sneaking into my dorm each morning to give me flowers, I don’t think it would be fair for us to get married.”

His expression changed to a sheepish one, biting the grin on his face, “How long have you known?”

“Since the third flower. You think I wouldn’t notice the cut plants at the back of the Greenhouse?” She replies with a smile “Also the Professor told me your detention was over weeks ago. You really had no reason to stick around at night unless you had other intention than to move pots around.”

“I wanted to buy you flowers, truly.” He confesses, feeling embarrassed about the lack of effort “But getting to Hogsmeade daily was quite a bit of a task.”

“No, please don’t buy me flowers.” She says fast “They’ll only give me headaches.”

James nods, smiling as he walks closer to her and places his hands around her waist.

He studies her face, finally getting the opportunity to see her up close. Godric, just how beautiful can someone be? Everything about her just bewitched him completely. For once he finally could see that the heart eyes he had been throwing at her was not one sided. She too is drowned in the pool of admiration for him.

“So are you going to kiss me, or-”

James didn’t let her finish, pulling her for a sweet kiss. The moment their lips met, he could physically hear the wedding bells ring in his ears. He’s finally met her, the one he would spend the rest of his life with. And thank Merlin that they met at such a young age because this means that they could spend more time together, just the two of them.

“I hope you know how to cure headaches,” James says as they break the kiss “Because there wouldn’t be a day where I wouldn’t shower you with flowers from now on.”

#james potter #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fluff #james potter scenario #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x oc #james potter prompt

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aetherdecember · 3 months

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Look, I love BBC Merlin and how they told the lore, but I’m a sucker for the relationship between Arthur and Mordred in the mythology. Specifically, I love how Mary Stewart (author of The Arthurian Saga**) and Nancy Springer (author of I Am Mordred**) wrote about the father/son relationship between them. So naturally, my brain has been conjuring up how I can include that in my Flipping the Coin au.

Since the main premise is Merlin died/Arthur lives, and now Arthur is the one waiting for Merlin to come back, things would stay consistent with canon up to the last episode (when Merlin flips the coin of their destiny and sacrifices himself so Arthur can live and thus stop Camlann from happening altogether). Which is where this idea will start:

Gwen is barren. She and Arthur never have kids. Eventually, everyone Arthur knows and loves dies. He can’t rule Camelot forever, and after Gwen’s death, he no longer wants to, so he fakes his death and wanders off figure out why he’s still here. He never gets an answer for that. Arthur spends the next millennium waiting. He keeps living. He meets people, experiences things he’d never experienced before, and learns things he’d never dreamed of learning. He can’t stay anywhere long, or else suspicions will rise, but he gets to see the world change, how technology advances, and witness humans continuing to be humans. When war breaks out, he joins the battle. It’s familiar. The rush of adrenaline is the same whether he’s wielding a sword or a gun. Only, he can’t see the enemy’s face anymore.

Peace comes again. At some point, he sleeps with a woman, and she happens to become pregnant. Bisexual disaster that he is, he’s had all sorts of partners from both sexes, but has never had this happen, even before the advent of reliable birth control. Later, he’ll learn her name is Morgause. She doesn’t look like the Morgause he knew before, nor does she act like her, but her name haunts him. After the baby is born, she gives him to Arthur, says she has no intentions of being a mother, and leaves. The last thing she had said to him was the baby’s name.

Mordred.

That night, Arthur holds Mordred and weeps.

There is irony in his son being named Mordred. First, in that the legends surrounding him, Merlin, Camelot, the Knights of the Round Table, and all of it, had long ago decided Mordred was his son. And two, in a retelling of that legend, it had aptly phrased what he sensed was happening now. Granted, he isn’t a sorcerer, he doesn’t have magic, so he can’t support his feeling with anything other than he’d been around a long time and knew to his very core that it was true. Mordred’s birth is a signal of the beginning of the end.

Fatherhood brings him a new sense of purpose. Gone are the days of loneliness and drudgery. Every day with Mordred brings a new light into his life. Each smile is a miracle. Seeing Mordred experience things for the first time brings a new appreciation. Being there to watch him grow makes time fly like it never has before. But Arthur is afraid. He doesn’t want to be his father. He doesn’t know how to be a father, or what the right way to do it is. In all the years he’s been on the Earth, he’s never known a man who could concretely say, “This is the way to raise a son,” and actually reap the fruits of their efforts. Too frequently, he’d seen sons grow outside of the visions their fathers molded for them and receive only disappointment and disdain in return. So he was afraid, because he too had been that son.

*cue a series of fluffy father/son one shots of Arthur raising Mordred until Merlin comes back, takes one look, and is is like WTF????? No, I won’t have Mordred for a step son >:(*

**Mary Stewart and Nancy Springer have several other works, not just the stories I mentioned. The ones mentioned are the ones I’m pulling inspiration from ^^

Additional notes below the break:

Guinevere’s barrenness is not a headcanon I typically subscribe to for BBC Merlin. My headcanon is that after Arthur’s death, Gwen gives birth, and their child eventually succeeds her as ruler.

I’ve always seen Mordred’s appearance as the harbinger of Arthur’s downfall. Thus, the reason for the plot bunnies in my brain going crazy with this idea of how I could bring him in, still remain mostly canon compliant with BBC Merlin, and build off some of my favorite parts of the lore. (Mandatory disclaimer: for BBC Merlin, I don’t headcanon Mordred as Arthur’s son. But for the mythology, I do wholeheartedly support that canon.)

Arthur’s choice to participate and live once Camelot is gone is a decision to contrast my headcanon of how Merlin handled it. I don’t think Merlin thrived. I think he stayed busy, and tried to remain hopeful, but I think he was anxiously consumed with the anticipation of wondering when Arthur would come back. In this au, Arthur may or may not know that Merlin is supposed to come back (I’m still working on that detail), but he’s always been around others. I think he would seek camaraderie, and companionship, and that he would connect with others but only to a superficial level. I don’t think he’d exist in a void of loneliness. Plus, he doesn’t have the guilt of knowing he failed because the pressure from the prophecy is very one sided *coughcough*causemerlinnevertoldhim*coughcough*

Anyways, that’s enough rambling from me about this. I’ll probably share some snippets of writing next because there are some fantastic scenes coming together in the draft so stay tuned! ;D

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #mordred #flipping the coin #my drabbles #arthurian mythology will always be my jam #you can tear this au from my cold dead hands but it will live on #merthur #for the Merlin not wanting Mordred as a stepson joke the last Mordred he knew turned on them to join Morgana #as far as Merlin is concerned they’re the same person #he’ll come around eventually once Arthur fills him in on everything #btw Arthur’s son Mordred is unaware of all of this #he’s having to process his dad - who has never really been interested in anybody for any reason - is completely besotted with some guy #once he learns this ‘some guy’ used to be his father’s servant it does not make things better #but by then he’ll have learned enough that it does clear things up #he’s actually a big fan of Merlin #he just wasn’t prepared for love sick puppy dog Arthur 24/7 now that Merlin’s back

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hufflegruff · 11 months

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Chapter 3: A Knowing Look

Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Summary: In which Sebastian is whipped and literally everyone can see from a mile away that this is more than friendship.

“I have it on good authority that Andrew Larson is after your girl.” Sebastian wanted to laugh, because he must have misheard. And if not, surely that was just a jest. Also, his girl? Hearing it (even out of Leander’s slimy mouth) was both thrilling and petrifying. But before he could reply, Leander continued. “Made a big scene about how he’s going to ask her out today.” Sebastian swore he could feel the Earth’s rotation come to a halt and his head spin. “But I guess if she’s not your girl - it’s no bother, is it?”

Chapter 3: Leander

“Distracted Sallow? Never took you for a bumbling love sick fool.”

Sebastian couldn’t help the groan that crawled out his throat.

Sebastian had his suspicions, but Leander’s snivelling face confirmed it.

The universe was out to destroy him.

His day had already been bad enough. Leander had bested him in a duel in Defence Against the Dark Arts— which only fed his gargantuan ego. Even Professor Hecat was surprised at how atrocious Sebastian’s form had been. Every misstep and poorly spellcast, she made sure to let him know.

So it was safe to say that Sebastian did not have the patience nor the energy to humour any of Leander’s buffoonery.

He didn’t even really know how it happened. It was all a blur once he stepped onto the duelling platform. Then all of a sudden he was face flat on the ground. His robes haphazardly flung over his head. His legs strewn across the floor.

Merlin, how atrociously humiliating.

Especially when he was still trying to recover from his last humiliating incident in the library.

His last conversation with Poppy had made a total and utter mess of him. He felt like mush. All sentimental flesh and no bones. His mind and heart was still in disarray from their last conversation. When she had so brazenly implied that it was only obvious to assume he was courting the Hero of Hogwarts, the thought of actually courting her was the only thing that ran laps around his cluttered mind.

That was probably why he lost to Leander in the first place.

Ever since their encounter in the library, his eyes felt like they were moving constantly in conflict. Half of the time, they couldn’t stop searching every hallway and every nook and every corner of the castle in search of her. The other half of the time (when they finally found her), his eyes could never quite meet hers.

How did he end up becoming this silly bundle of nerves and contradictions?

That was how Sebastian found himself moping in the Transfiguration courtyard, with only the idle castle pigeons in his company. He had spent the past hour glaring daggers at any mythical statues that deigned to throw pitiful looks his way. He even ignored Ominis’ owls. He had been perfectly content brooding by his lonesome.

That was until Leander-the-knobhead-Prewett showed up.

“Piss off Prewett,” a migraine brewed above the bridge of Sebastian’s nose, “Go spew your nonsense to someone who cares.”

Leander ignored his protests, and perched himself comfortably on the bench next to Sebastian instead. All Sebastian had wanted today was a quiet afternoon to sulk in peace. He wanted to claw his hair out at how he had even been robbed of that. By Leander of all people. He was probably the last person on the bloody planet Sebastian wanted to share this afternoon in the courtyard with.

“Shame. It seems without your girlfriend around, your duelling skills turn poorly.”

“What are you on about?” Sebastian bristled.

Poorly? How dare he.

Tough talk from a glorified overgrown ginger twig.

Also, not this again. Not today. It was one thing from Ominis and Poppy. But Leander? If even one other nosy Gryffindor came up to him to imply that he was courting the girl wonder, Sebastian was going to throw himself off the edge of the Astronomy tower.

(But complicated feelings aside... Sebastian was grateful that she hadn’t been around to see his sorry arse get obliterated in class.)

“Come on. No need to be shy about it, Sallow. The whole school knows you’re soft on the new girl.”

Leander gave him a terribly patronising pat on the back. Instinctually, Sebastian shoved him off.

Him? Soft? That was utterly ridiculous. Softness was for babies. For defenceless maidens. And Sebastian Sallow was not any of those things. He was smart as a whip. Tough as nails. Sharp as a blade. Softness was not in his repertoire.

“Well then, you’re even dumber than you look, cause I’m not soft on anyone.” Sebastian replied snarkily.

Leander snorted, “Half of the year’s got bets on when you’ll finally be caught snogging in the hallways.”

Great. Just fucking wonderful. Of all the things Sebastian needed today, he definitely did not need the mental picture of him snogging his friend senseless wreaking havoc in his restless mind. And fuck off. Snogging in the hallways? Give him a little more credit. Sebastian was a raging flirt, but he wasn’t an exhibitionist. He was more romantic than that. If he was going to snog her it sure as hell wouldn’t be in plain view for the entire student body to see.

Not that he was going to snog her of course. Not that he wanted to snog her.

It was just hypothetical. Scientific even.

But bets? Snogging? God this was probably karmic justice. For that one time in fourth year when he had spread a rumour that Duncan Hobhouse and Constance Dagworth had a romantic tryst in the broom closet in the clock tower. It wasn’t true of course. Which is why Constance was furious, and why Duncan (unsurprisingly) loved it.

“It’s all good and well if other people want to waste their own money. Doesn’t bother me.” Sebastian replied, trying his best to sound aloof.

“Really?” Leander asked coyly, “Come on. We’ve all seen the sappy looks you give her.”

Sebastian was itching to hex the arrogant look off his face.

Genuinely, Sebastian couldn’t believe how many times he had to defend the status of their friendship this week alone. What business was it of others to speculate on such things anyway? Had Hogwarts, with its endless puzzles and mysteries, become so boring that Sebastian’s private life was now the talk of the town?

“Oh relax. Don’t get your knickers in a twist Sallow,” Leander snickered, elated by Sebastian’s foul mood, “I was trying to do you a favour. I have information that might be of interest to you.”

Sebastian leant back further on the bench as his posture gave up. He was tired. He’d spent the better half of the week overthinking. He didn’t want to talk to Leander. He just wanted to laze in the sun and wallow.

“I can’t for the life of me imagine you telling me anything of use.”

He was positive that Leander had not a single wisdom to impart onto him.

“Oh, I can think of a thing or two.” Leander said, as if he’d just said something utterly hilarious but he wouldn’t say why.

“I’d be surprised if you could even string a sentence that could impress me.” Sebastian retorted. He might’ve lost their duel, but he wasn’t about to lose this battle of words.

But then Leander pulled a fast one on him and said her name.

“It’s about her.”

Of course it was about her. How could it not be about her? But simultaneously, how could it be about her? There was nothing that Leander could know about her that Sebastian already didn’t. The Gryffindor was more than likely baiting him, trying to rile him up.

Which is why he should’ve obviously left it — curiosity never did no cats any good. (But Sebastian wasn’t a cat. And never knowing would’ve likely killed him just the same.)

“Enlighten me,” Sebastian said dryly.

He could tell that pleased Leander immensely.

Haughtily, Leander leaned towards Sebastian and whispered, “I have it on good authority that Andrew Larson is after your girl.”

Sebastian wanted to laugh, because he must have misheard. And if not, surely that was just a jest. Also, his girl? Hearing it (even out of Leander’s slimy mouth) was both thrilling and petrifying.

But before he could reply, Leander continued.

“Made a big scene about how he’s going to ask her out today.”

Sebastian swore he could feel the Earth’s rotation come to a halt and his head spin.

Predictably, Leander was looking at Sebastian awfully smug. Like he had spent years since their first day at Hogwarts mining into the depths of Sebastian’s subconscious with cheap insults and backhanded duelling tactics and finally struck gold. He had found the thing that unnerved him most. Unravelled him into a mess of emotions.

Her.

“But I guess if she’s not your girl - it’s no bother, is it?”

It was no bother. Logically, emotionally, in actuality — no bother at all. Not a single fucking one.

So why did it feel like someone had just flung him mercilessly into the black lake? Tied to an anchor pulling him down into a cavern of endless despair? Like someone had grabbed him by the throat and was choking him with intent to kill? And why did he have this sudden, insatiable urge to beat Andrew Larson into a miserable pulp?

She was not his girl, by any means or definition. And as Sebastian had previously clarified, he was not soft on her either. So logically, if some guy wanted to throw their hat into the ring to court her, there was no issue.

But when Sebastian genuinely tried to picture it: Larson making her laugh; putting his gangly arms around her shoulders; staring deeply into her eyes - it just felt wrong. It felt unnatural. It felt like the ground was flipped on its head. It flooded bile in the back of his throat. It didn’t make sense. None of it. And what could a simpleton like Andrew Larson even offer the girl wonder anyways?

Sebastian had never thought much of Andrew Larson before. And that was exactly it. He wasn’t much to think about at all. No redeeming qualities of note. So what made him think that he was worthy of her? She was the Hero of Hogwarts for Merlin’s sake. She was strong and lovely and unyielding and a tempest and way out of his league.

Sebastian was definitely angrier than rationality called for. But even just the thought of Larson’s weasley little hands touching her made his blood boil.

And when blood boiled, it eviscerated everything.

“It’s none of my business.” Sebastian practically spat with his fists clenched.

The words came out more brusquely than he intended (but less than he truly felt).

To his credit, Leander was surprised, “What? Don’t you want to know where and when he’s going to do it?”

“What fucking for?”

Leander looked at him condescendingly, “Well I don’t know, to save her from Larson’s grubby hands or something?”

“You and I both know she doesn’t need saving,” Sebastian affirmed with an eye roll.

“Come on Sallow. You’re having me on. I know you’re just dying to put that Ravenclaw in his place.”

Sebastian would love nothing more. But he didn’t want to give Leander the upper hand.

Leander scoffed, “Fine whatever. Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you. I was trying to help you out of the goodness of my heart. Don’t come crying to me when you find out that she’s decided to try going out with Larson.”

Almost dramatically, Leander made his move to stand up and go. But it was all for show of course. He just wanted Sebastian to beg for his help.

But Sebastian wasn’t paying him any mind. Too busy caught in the storm of his own emotions.

Because the more he thought about it — the more he took a mental magnifying glass and really, really scrutinised the damn feeling — the more he was inclined to believe that perhaps he was soft on her.

For starters, he was always worrying about her. Whether she was safe on her adventures. Whether she’d eaten breakfast. Whether she was tired from the weight of being so depended on. Was that softness? Whenever she looked at him, he felt terrified. Like his heart would race out of his chest from the sight of her. Was that softness?

Was softness meant to feel this anxious? That didn’t sound right.

It didn’t sound at all like the romances that maidens sang in their folk songs. They made it sound so easy. Nothing about his feelings for her ever felt easy to understand. For Sebastian, there were no butterflies or angel songs or clouds parting or hippogriff rides off into sunset. It was nothing like that. It always felt urgent. It always felt like endless running and scalding fire and falling off the edge of the universe all at once.

Like she was her own blinding force of magnetism pulling him towards her, off the edge of an unknown precipice. And Sebastian didn’t mind at all. Hell, even if she didn’t tug him, even if she protested — he would’ve marched right up to her, grabbed her hand and jumped off the edge with her without a second thought.

Maybe… in its own complex and twisted way, that meant that he was soft on her.

(And maybe that was the most terrifying thing about it all.)

God. That meant that he couldn’t let Andrew anywhere near her.

With renowned vigour, Sebastian pulled Leander by his robe and demanded.

“Tell me.” Sebastian finally.

Leander stopped his pacing. Check and mate. Hook, line and sinker. He knew that he would cave; Leander had him right where he wanted him — and the fucker had never looked so delighted with himself.

“I knew that you’d need my help.”

Like they had a mind of his own, his legs moved first.

First they walked briskly, and then suddenly they were sprinting at reckless speeds towards her. God knows why, because he surely didn’t. Sebastian was so single-minded in his run that he didn’t hear the complaints of the castles sleepy paintings, nor Imelda Reyes yells to slow the fuck down, nor the screeches from the gaggle of first years running from the madman he must have appeared to be.

He was running headfirst into … god knows what. On the precarious word of Leander Prewett. On the word that some other guy had thought he was foolishly worthy to ask for even a slither of her attention.

The running was endless. It was stairs and narrow arches and stretches of hallways. But he wasn’t going to stop. Not even a radical force of nature could stop him in his path. Tunnel vision would get him to that greenhouse; Sebastian’s blind faith would make sure of it.

Because now that he finally could admit to himself that maybe he was soft on her. That maybe their friendship was dearer to him than most other friendships. That maybe all of this was (at most) a crush — he couldn’t let Andrew Larson derail everything before he even started.

Not that he had a solid plan or anything.

Which was abundantly clear to him now that he found himself standing in front of the towering doors that led into the greenhouse. He was out of breath and logical reasoning. If he did see them... What would he do about it?

What could he do about it?

But with no time to waste, Sebastian guessed he would just have to find out.

So he pushed open the doors.

And once he stepped into the greenhouse, Sebastian couldn’t help but grimace. Of course someone as mediocre as Andrew Larson would pick somewhere as basic as the Greenhouse to try to court the girl wonder. He probably thought that he could woo her with a flower or two. That if she didn’t have any feelings for him to begin with, she was a simple enough girl that a bouquet was enough to sway her with his affection.

But he would be wrong. Because she wasn’t the kind of girl that would go on a romantic dalliance with a boy she hardly knew. With a Ravenclaw no less. She was too smart, too witty, too compelling to be wasted on someone like him.

She had always been better suited with Slytherins anyway. At least they had the cunningness to match her endless ferocity.

(Or — as Sebastian tried his best to avoid saying — she was better suited with him.)

From a distance, he could hear quiet chatter.

And when he looked, between the restricted view of foliage, Sebastian felt a pang in his heart at the sight of them.

They were standing in a secluded alcove of the greenhouse light. She was drenched in sunlight and surrounded by all things flora — and even in these distressing times, he couldn’t help but think that she looked bewitching.

… And beside her was Andrew.

All he wanted to do was run up to her and pull her out of his orbit. The itch in his fingers to reach out to touch her was stronger than ever; her gravitational pull was overwhelming. But she would’ve probably hated him for it. The girl wonder would never fancy herself a damsel in distress.

But maybe she would forgive him if he said that he was saving himself. From the grief of watching someone try to claim her as their own.

Nevertheless, Sebastian refrained and casted a quick disillusionment charm. Staying stealthily behind this fern planter would have to suffice.

As he tip-toed closer, Sebastian heard Andrew’s pompous voice ring out:

“... I mean, it’s no secret. I think you’re absolutely incredible. And stunning. So I was wondering if you would do me the honour of accompanying me to Hogsmeade next weekend?”

When he heard Andrew speak, all Sebastian could see was blinding red. Gone were the lacewing flies in his chest. They were replaced with a feeling more feral and bitter and grotesque.

In the air sat a thick, heavy pause. It was silent. With fear and anticipation frothing at the base of his throat, Sebastian gripped his own hands in wait. So hard that bruises were probably blooming.

Surely she was going to reject him… Right?

“I’m…” She began tentatively.

Just as Andrew leaned in expectantly (patronisingly even), Sebastian leaned in uneasiness. The tension was palpable. Sebastian could taste it in the air, weighing on the crease of his brow, splitting cuts into the skin of his lips.

Surely she was going to say no… Right?

Finally, she replied, “That’s a very lovely offer Andrew, but I’m afraid that I can’t take you up on it. Thank you for thinking of me though.”

After she had spoken, Sebastian let go of the shaky breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding in.

The world wasn’t in peril anymore, he wasn’t seeing red. Her words were like oxygen to his battered lungs; he could finally breathe again.

Her voice had sounded perfectly diplomatic. Polite and wonderfully neutral. No hint of derision, with just the right amount of compassion. And Sebastian couldn’t thank the heavens enough for it.

Thank Merlin. Thank Salazar. Thank any and all of the Gods that looked down upon him.

But almost comically, Andrew’s face quickly sour. Just a second ago, the Ravenclaw had been brimming with bravado. Now he looked like an embittered spoiled child who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. Sebastian could tell that this was clearly not the way that Andrew had hoped that this would go — and he had never been more ecstatic for someone’s flagrant misery.

Sebastian had a feeling that he wouldn’t take the rejection with grace, but he hoped that the Ravenclaw would have the sense to not make a scene.

“Come on. It’s just one butterbeer. Can’t hurt, can it?” Andrew sounded almost annoyed.

From his hiding spot, Sebastian almost laughed. What nerve did this dunce have to be annoyed? It seemed that the girl wonder felt the same.

She forgoed diplomacy, and raised her brow disapprovingly.

“Well, I’m sorry. But I’m simply not interested.”

“Well you’re not taken are you?” Andrew had the gall to retort.

She hesitated. Only for a brief moment, but significant enough for Sebastian to catch it. He couldn’t help but wonder — why did she stop?

“No. I’m not.”

Andrew went to grab her wrist, “Well then the least you could do is not reject a man’s kind offer to take you out.”

Sebastian bristled through gritted teeth. Watching Andrew touch her was the last straw. He never thought twice about him until today, and now Sebastian hated him with every agitated fibre in his being. The nerve of this idiot. How dare he. Adrenaline spiked into his veins and before his brain had time to think, he was ready to punch the living daylights out of him—

But then she wrung her hand out of his grasp, and raises her wand at the ready as an act of defiance. When she glared at him, her eyes were ice cold and pure venom. Sebastian had never seen her so furious, it was almost impressive what Andrew managed to incite out of her.

“I don’t need to do anything. I don’t owe anyone anything. Especially boys who refuse to take a lady’s refusal with grace,” She snapped back.

Sebastian retreated, and stood down. She was comfortably standing her ground and he wanted to jump for joy. He had never been more enthralled by her than in this moment.

Andrew snorted. Which Sebastian could tell displeased the girl wonder even more.

“I think I should go.” She said brusquely.

But before she could, Andrew rudely brushed past her shoulders, and muttered indignantly, “Whatever. Don’t bother. I’ll leave.”

When Andrew began to storm off, she was left in the lurch to watch the belligerent boy walk off in bewilderment. She stared agape, as if she was unsure whether or not to dignify his rude behaviour with a response.

But Sebastian wasn’t about to let him off this easily.

Just as Andrew started to stomp his way up the steps past the pond garden. A wicked idea struck Sebastian. As quickly as the idea came to him, he lifted his wand and pointed at the Ravenclaw’s feet.

“Impedimenta,” Sebastian whispered.

And almost as if he was moving in slow motion, Sebastian savoured every delectably humiliating expression that flickered on Andrew Larson’s face as he fell off the cobbled staircase; face first into the depths of the greenhouse pond.

Splash!

In less than five hours, the entire school had heard all about Andrew Larson’s failed attempt to court the girl wonder. The highlight of the tale was of course, his ungraceful dive head-first into the greenhouse pond.

The rumours first started when the Ravenclaw was seen storming out of the greenhouse annex drenched silly, with a nest of foliage poking out of his unruly hair. He had left a squelchy trail of footsteps behind him, and a flock of Gryffindors girls in speculating hushed whispers.

But then the details became public knowledge; and how that came to be would forever be a mystery.

When Ominis had first found out, he asked Sebastian if had heard the news. Ominis eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing more when Sebastian shrugged in response. He clearly suspected that Sebastian knew more than he was letting on.

At the dinner table, Ominis mused, “I wonder how they found out.”

Sebastian replied, “Yeah. I wonder.”

After expertly deflecting all of Ominis’ questions. He excused and made his way On his way back to the Slytherin common room, just on a corner leading up towards the grand staircase, he bumped into her.

“Oh, Sebastian!” She said warmly.

Hearing his own name come out of her mouth, Sebastian felt his heart literally skip a beat. Which was preposterous, because what business did hearts have skipping at all? Vital functions shouldn’t malfunction at the mere mention of a name.

Sebastian had thought about nothing but her in the last five hours; it felt like he had experienced a lifetime of emotions in that short span of time alone. There were so many words and feelings that he wanted to say to her. So many revelations and just as many answered questions.

“Hi.” Sebastian said.

But that was the only thing that he managed to get out.

“I feel like… I haven’t seen you in a while,” She said.

It had been ages, Sebastian wanted to scream. It had been a week since they had properly spent any time together; since the last time they were in the library. It had been disgustingly too long — but how could he tell her that without sounding like an utter desperate fool?

“It has been a while. I imagine you’ve been busy.”

“Mmhm,” She said absentmindedly.

Her eyes briefly glazed over, as if she was contemplating saying more to him. Sebastian had a feeling he already knew what was weighing on her conscience.

“I heard about Larson.” Sebastian said.

A light blush dusted on her cheeks.

“Oh… You heard about that?” She chucked slightly nervously. In an attempt to hide her discomfort, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, which stubbornly kept falling loose. Sebastian had to tell himself not to reach out and tuck it out of the way for her.

“It’s all anyone can talk about.” Sebastian conveniently left out the part that he had actually been there to witness it all.

She grimaced.

“Oh, it’s nothing newsworthy, I just told him that I wasn’t interested—”

“Good.” Sebastian interrupted (much too) abruptly.

Her eyes shot up to his, startled by the suddenness of his reply. Like a deer in headlights, he looked just as bewildered by the sound of his own voice. Fuck, did he really just say good? He cursed himself for how overly eager that must have sounded, and hoped that she didn’t read too much into it.

“I mean… it’s good you spoke your mind.” Sebastian clarified quickly.

She looked at him dubiously, with inquisitive eyes. Sebastian felt a chill run down his spine. He must have said too much with so little, because she was looking at him rather intensely. He couldn't help but wonder if she could now see through him, peering into his mess of his thoughts and emotions.

Was she looking for an answer to something in particular? And did she find it?

But if she did, she didn’t reveal it.

“Right.” She finally said.

Then slowly, but surely, a smile grew on the edges of her lips. Like a soft patch of shade on a blistering summer day, it soothed his temperamental chest.

When Sebastian had tried to picture her and Andrew together, it all felt wrong. But right here, in this moment just between them, when she was looking straight at him, all felt right in the world. Like peace was at his footbed. Like his contentment was in the palm of her delicate hands.

Sebastian couldn’t believe that he ever denied being soft on her.

And he couldn’t believe it took so many people — including Leander for fucks sake — to see it.

“Join me tomorrow at dinner?” Sebastian said, before hurriedly adding, “And Ominis of course. Feels like it’s been a while”

She smiled and said, “Sure.”

This time, Sebastian didn’t fight the smile on his face, “Great.”

And in that moment, Sebastian did genuinely believe all was great. ——

Notes

This chapter was so fun to write but also it took me WAY longer than I thought it was going to. It's also wayyyy longer than chapter 1 and 2, so I hope you guys enjoyed it.

I apologise for the Leander slander. But tbh in some ways he's team SebxMc! So maybe we're all actually pro Leander

I also apologise for the Andrew Larson slander. tbh don't know a thing about him, so he probs doesn't deserve such hate. But oh well, the things we do for romance.

Shoutout to @wt-fxck @ithinkweallsing @mysticrose1210 @eleanorstaghart @deliciouslyferal @oliviajdjarin @80strashbag @radical-ghostface @tlnyjoong @fall727 @lololpiz @ssimpy for all your lovely comments and reblogs!!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!!

#Sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow imagines #hogwarts legacy

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fierymiasma · 1 year

Text

☆For Her Own Good ☆ Sebastian Sallow x Reader

⪩ pairing: Sebastian Sallow x fem!reader ⪨

Summary: Sebastian would do whatever it takes to make sure his Hufflepuff will be his forever, even if that means doing the unforgivable. Takes place in 7th year.

Part 2 is out!!

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning(s): Dark!Sebastian, obsession, use of amortentia

|| Masterlist || AO3 ||

After knowing Sebastian Sallow for seven, very long, years, Ominis had come to learn certain rules. If his bed was empty at night, then it meant that the Slytherin was up to his usual midnight mischief. If the new transfer student batted her eyelashes, the Sebastian would be wrapped around her wand….

…And if Ominis' life was a bit too quiet, then Sebastian Sallow was certainly up to no good.

Now ordinarily, what Sebastian did or did not get into was none of Ominis' concern. Goodness knows, he wiped his hands clean after the events that handed at the end of their 5th year. But old habits were hard to kill, and Ominis couldn't get rid of the nagging worry in his head that his best friend was, once again, up to no good.

Embarking on an unfortunately too familiar routine, he scoured the castle for where his fellow classmate could have wandered off to. He wasn't in his usual haunts. Sebastian's bed, unkempt and unmade as usual, was empty. His usual station at Crossed Wands was cold. And (perhaps most surprisingly) the 5th year transfer did not know where Sebastian had gotten himself into. With a heavy sigh, Ominis sung open the heavy iron gates of the Undercroft.

To his surprise, his nose was assaulted with the heavy chemical odors of potion making. He could heard the crackling burner under the cauldron and the grinding of mortar and petter.

"Sebastian Sallow, brewing potions? Do my ears deceive me?"

"Ominis!" Sebastian beamed, hastily pocketing something into his robes. "Good to see you, I was about to say I could use a good hand." He grimaced as the grey brackish liquid bubbled an off-odor.

Instantly, Ominis was on guard. Unless Sebastian suddenly went mad and decided to actually focus on the upcoming NEWTS, he was certain that Sebastian was up to no good.

Quickly he waved his wand over the ingredients strewn across the table.

"Lavender, Valerian sprig…..nettle, standard…and" Ominis grimaced wiping his hand on his robes, "and flobberworm mucus. What on earth are you-Sebastian! Are you making a sleeping draught? What in Merlin's name do you intend to use it for?"

Sebastian laughed good-naturedly as he added the crushed ingredients from the mortar to the cauldron with his wand, "Perceptive as always Ominis. Our very dear partner-in-crime has been having some trouble sleeping. It's no wonder with half of the bloody Valley and all of Hogwarts constantly using her like a House elf." His expression darkened, and his wand stilled for a moment before resuming. "It's a shame she's too Hufflepuff to turn down their stupid requests. Hardly has any time to herself, much less time for me. Between all those silly errands those moon-minds have her running and her nightmares, she's having trouble sleeping." Sebastian's hand clenched on his wand and he muttered darkly, "For once, I'm going to help her out a bit. Let her relax a little."

Ominis shifted uncomfortably, "And why is it, can she not simply go to the Hospital Ward and request a Sleeping draught to help her sleep at night?"

Sebastian was glad that his best friend couldn't see his scowl. "For being the most powerful witch in all of Hogwarts, sometimes she doesn't know what's good for her. She's going to run herself ragged and end up passing out in some Acromantula cave. This is going to encourage her to sleep a little, for her own good."

"Are you talking about drugging her Pumpkin juice? Merlin's beard, Sebastian, if you're so worried about her, why don't you just tell her how you feel?"

He frowned. "Why do you have to phrase it like that? You and Anna, always making me out to be some great evil. I'm helping our friend feel better. All I’m doing is just taking care of her." Sebastian paused, clenching his jaw. "Besides ever since…certain events, she's been avoiding me."

Sebastian wasn't daft. His little Hufflepuff, the one who used to look at him with wide shiny eyes like he was the moon and she was the Mooncalf, the one who's cheeks always glowed red in his presence, had grown distant and cold. Oh she could claim otherwise, she could make excuse after excuse. There was always some magical creature in need, some godforsaken Merlin Trial needed to be solved. But he knew her. His dark eyes saw how she would no longer meet his intense gaze. Lately, she always looked away, body twisting away from him almost begging to be anywhere but with him. Her laugh wasn't as free, and her smile, the one that she saved only for Sebastain, only for him, started carrying this rather pinched quality.

Ever since the unfortunate…end of his uncle, he could practically feel her slipping away. It took all of his coaxing, his begging, his pleading, his lies, for him to calm her nerves. To assuage her worries, to kiss and melt away the fears that were brewing in her heart.

And it worked. For a while, she was his. His shy doe would tentatively dip her hands into his, allowing him to trail burning kisses on the insides of her wrist. Her breath would hitch as he nibbled her red ears, whispering scandalous promises of what would happen if she were to give in to his desires. His arms would wrap around her trembling frame, a protective, warm yet iron embrace begging her to stay. His sweet nothings worked…for a bit.

It happened when Sebastian was starting to forget himself, to loosen his grip on her. It was the most recent goblin's camp. He was too reckless. His wand was too relaxed. He was too charmed by her effortlessly use of ancient magic in combat. He was starting to mix up his promises to Ominis, to Anne, and to her.

"Crucio!"

He never forgot her horrified face when Sebastian had broken yet another one of his many promises to her. He had sworn to never use another Unforgivable curse. To never flirt with the Dark Arts again. To never give her another reason to fear him.

He grimaced stirring the cauldron again with his wand. What's done, is done.

Ominis floundered. His Sebastian, the Sebastian that he met 7 years ago would have never been talking like this.

"Do you really think she's that stupid to drink some spiked Butterbeer? Merlin's beard, Sebastian, this is 5th year all over again! You've gone too far! I'm going to tell her."

Sebastian's heart leapt, fingernails digging into his wand handle. He cooled himself down quickly, smoothing his robes, "Calm down, troll-for-brains. I'm just making a sleeping draught. If she wants to take it, she can. If she doesn't, it's no concern of mine. She's a grown witch. I'm just trying to do my best to support my only remaining friend at Hogwarts."

Ominis squirmed, now a bit ashamed. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to accuse you of doing such awful things. I…I guess just after everything that happened, I'm a bit on edge is all."

The other boy shrugged, turning away from his maybe friend maybe now acquittance. "It's understandable…I guess. You should know, I would never do anything to harm her. I take care of what's mine."

Ominis shivered, uncomfortable hearing the possessive dark tone that his once best friend had been using recently. He was reminded of the concerning way his new Hufflepuff friend was so spellbound to Sebastian. So loyal to him, that she would ignore all the warning signs and follow him down the dark arts. Play victim to Sebastian's most darkest and perverse thoughts. "Yes…well. Sleeping draughts are easy. Even a 1st year Gryffindor could make it in their sleep. Now that I know you're not up to any trouble, I'll be heading out." He turned, robes swishing behind him as he made a hasty retreat from the awkward situation.

Sebastian dawdled a bit, waiting for the telltale sound of the iron gates shuttering close, telling him he was now and truly alone. He breathed a sigh of relief, taking out the pouch of pearl dust he swiftly hid from Ominis' prying eyes. With a flick of his wrist he added the final ingredient to his potion. Characteristic spiraling steam burst from his cauldron the once gray liquid taking a new mother-of-pearl sheen. Sebastian breathed deeply, trying to identify the new seductive scents emitting from his potion. A familiar warm perfume, her favorite apple tarts, and something flowery that reminded him of her pillows in the newly renovated Room of Requirements. He grinned ladling some of the concoction into a small easily concealable vial, pocketing the solution into a hidden compartment of his sleeve.

It was a shame, it had to come down to this. Amortentia was a NEWTS level potion, notoriously difficult to make. Perhaps, the feelings from the amortentia Sebastian had created for her could rival a small fraction of Sebastian's obsession. If she didn't love Sebastian anymore, he'll make her love him. She was his, and Sebastian was hers. Nothing, would get in his way. Nothing.

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #dark!sebastian #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic #fierymiasmawork

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hazelsmirrorball · 1 year

Text

The Anonymous Red Velvet Cupcakes Baker

summary: Y/n loves red velvet cupcakes, so to win her heart someone anonymously tries to make her family’s secret recipe pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem! Reader warning: fluff, fluff and fluff. Also reminding you guys that english isn’t my main language so sorry for any mistake. a/n: Still going strong with this little valentine series. I hope all of you are up to date with the imagines and that you’re enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it. I decided to mix two things that make a good match that I love, Theodore Nott and Red Velvet cupcakes. So I hope you guys enjoy this imagine. Lots of love.

Cupids Fourteen Love Stories Masterlist.

previous imagine.

regular masterlist.

It was Valentines day week at Hogwarts, everyone was being extra touchy and lovey dovey with their partners, which Y/n despised. All her friends had someone to hang with and be all in love for valentines day leaving her alone to mourn her loneliness. It’s not that she willingly wanted to be alone, it was that her eyes were settled on someone specifically that wouldn’t even blink her way. But hope wasn’t lost completely she still had faith in getting someone for Valentines. But in the meantime she would just have to wait.

Y/n slowly looked up from her book, noticing in the table in front of her a small group of Slytherins, laughing their ass off at Merlins knows what. She quietly scanned the group quickly looking between the familiar faces but her eyes rested on the one person that could make her heart skip a beat,Theodore Nott. His face was covered with his usual soft glare look, very different from the other Slytherins beside him that had the faces adorned with a smile. There were a lot of ways Y/n could describe Theodore. He was different that’s for sure, he was dry when it came to talking he would speak the minimum or nothing at all, like he had million secrets to hide. He was quite handsome Y/n would even say he was the most handsomest guy in Slytherin. He was a brilliant student making himself the top of his class. A bonus point was that Theodore was a good quidditch player. But something drew Y/n toward Theodore and that was his coldness. Theodre Nott was the opposite of Y/n and that’s what made him so interesting to her. She wanted to talk to him, break his walls, hell she could even try to make him smile for once. Oh, what she would do to make him smile, Y/n being the cause of his smile would be the death of her. She could bet that his was the best smile in Hogwarts. But that was quite far from the reality she currently lived in.

She wasn’t friends with Theo, hell he didn’t even know of her existence. She wasn’t one to talk to other people besides her friend and adding to the fact that her big crush on him would make her run away just from a hi slipping out of his lips, she was doomed.And even if she had the courage to talk to him, theo rarely talk to his friends he wasn’t going to start talking out of the blue with her. So Y/n only option was admiring from afar, something she had been doing since her eyes landed on the tall beauty,

She quickly stopped looking at the group focusing on the book she was previously reading while trying to catch up where she had left behind. But it was quite hard given the fact that she could only concentrate on two things Theodore Nott and her rumbling belly.

“Pst, Earth to Y/n” Her thoughts were quickly snapped by Hermione snapping her fingers in front of her face. She held a small box in her hand settling it in front of Y/n with a smile quickly sitting in front of her blocking her view of Theodore.

“What’s this?” Y/n asked while closing her book and looking at the box in front of her with a raised eyebrow.

“Someone left this next to my bag with a small note that said give to Y/n so I followed instructions.” Hermione said while shrugging her shoulders and taking the small paper and placing it beside the box.

“And you, Hermione Granger, didn’t ask any questions about it?” Y/n asked to inspect the box carefully.

“I tried. But this handwriting doesn’t seem familiar at all. Maybe it’s your mystery to solve” ]

“What’s there to solve? It’s probably Fred or George playing a stupid prank on me.” While slowly pulling the nicely done ribbon adorning the box.

“I actually don’t think it’s a prank. We are near valentines day. Maybe you have someone that you like..” Hermione quickly gets cut off by Y/n.

“You think I have a secret admirer? Please Hermione, I think you’ve been spending so much time with Harry and Ron.” She muttered annoyed , stopping herself from opening the box.

“Y/n live a little. Someone took the time to give you something and you’re being a downer”

“Fine I’ll open it” Y/n mumbled while opening the small box. Her lips curved into a small smile noticing the cute and beautifully made cupcake inside. Y/n loved cupcakes, specifically Red velvet cupcakes. It was her go to everything. If she was sad she ate a Red Velvet cupcake, angry red Velvet cupcake, happy Red Velvet cupcake. Everything could be resolved with a Red Velvet cupcake. But in February it tasted so different, with more love. This was the perfect excuse to sneak as many Red Velvet cupcakes as possible without anyone judging.Red Velvet Cupcakes were her thing. Y/n did miss the cupcakes from back home, the one’s at Hogwarts never tasted as good. But seeing a nicely made cupcake made her remember her grandma's baking and the cupcakes she used to make for her. Whoever made this was succeeding to get on her good side.

…

The next day, Y/n decided to do some light reading to catch up on some work. She headed to the library and when she finally stumbled with her usual chair she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes trailed towards the small box similar to the day before, placed on the table where she used to sit this time with a small note.

to Y/n,

Here's a good homemade cupcake. I hope it sweetens your day. Heard you didn’t have the best time at charms today, hope this makes you feel better.

Several thoughts went through Y/n head, one of her friends had to be pranking her. But like Herminone had mentioned the handwriting wasn’t similar to anything she had seen before, it was unknown to her. Maybe they paid someone to write it down for them. She slowly opened the box to see a cupcake similar to the one before which she sadly couldn’t enjoy because Ron had devoured it. She slowly pulled the cupcake to her lips while looking around to see if the person was close by since the cupcake was still warm.

She took a small bite and her eyes opened widely. THe cupcake tasted exactly like the one her grandma made when she was a kid. The Red Velvet was chewy with several chocolate chips and chunks filled in the middle with a cheesecake filling and topped with a wonderful cream cheese frosting.It was God sent on eart which made her quickly trow her head back out a pleasure while taking another big bite of the cupcake. But her happiness came to a stop when it came to her head the fact that no one besides her family knew about the cheesecake filling so she instantly knew that the cupcake wasn’t made by anyone close to her. But who would just leave a random cupcake for her? twice? That was something she was going to find out.

The girl slowly turned the paper that was previously written on and wrote down:

to the anonymous red velvet cupcake baker,

I'm suspicious about the fact that you know my grandma's recipe. But I wanted to say thank you for those cupcakes!! It was so lovely.

…

Two days left before Valentine's day and all she had was one letter and two eaten cupcakes but none to thank personally. Hermione and her tried deducing who could be a good baker but no one could guess that simple detail. It was driving her insane, she couldn’t think straight all day, all night, everything revolved around those cupcakes and that damn anonymous baker. Hell, she even asked her grandma if she had given anyone the family recipe, which she quickly responded offended with a no. So she decided to relax and followed her normal routine, ending her day as she always did, at the library. A smile grew on her face when she noticed another box where she usually sat at, again. She quickly walked up to it trying not to fall in the process. She quickly took the note in her hands and read it.

dear red velvet cupcakes enjoyer,

I see we’re on a code name basis. Here’s another cupcake to ease your nerves, just enjoy it. Maybe if you relax I’ll personally deliver a dozen to you. Made it with lots of love.

love, anonymous red velvet cupcake baker.

Y/n looked around again trying to see if someone was near her but again she found herself with no one around her. She took another bite enjoying the sweet gooeyness. She quickly shook her head and took her pen out to leave them a little note.

dear anonymous red velvet cupcake baker,

I see you added peppermint, makes me assume you like mint chocolate ice cream which scares me a lot. Better luck next time.

love, red velvet cupcake enjoyer.

…

Valentine's Day finally came and by the look of it more people had coupled up, even more than before making Y/n more annoyed than ever. All she wanted to do was eat her cupcakes. She counted the hours wanting to see what the mystery person left. So far Y/n had a horrible day but her smile didn’t fall not even once waiting and wishing to try the red velvet sweetness. So in her free period she quickly ran towards the library pushing through the people in front of her. Her smile slowly dropped, noticing the empty table in front of her. She sighed while sitting down on her usual chair this time with a different energy. She pulled out her book and attempted to study. Lost in her books she lost track of time noticing she was late to her charms class. She quickly ran the halls trying to get to her lecture as quickly as possible. When she finally passed the door and excused herself with her professor she almost walked back out when her eyes stumbled upon the empty chair next to Theodore Nott. She quickly walked towards the chair sitting quietly trying to catch on the notes that were previously given. It was no surprise that she was failing the class and she least needed to be late. But what surprised her even more was Theodrore Nott’s notes slipping across the table so she could copy them off from.

“Thanks” quickly mumbled while messily writing her notes which Theodore simply nodded while looking towards the professor.

When the class finally ended and the class started to leave the classroom. Y/n picked up her bag ready to leave but she quickly stopped dead in her tracks when she heard those four letters slipped out of those lips.

“Here”

She quickly looked up towards him, her mouth opening like a fish under water. She quickly noticed the small smile plaster on his face. She tried to understand what was happening. She opened her mouth but words didn’t seem to come out of her lips. She could feel her face turn hot and she couldn’t look him straight in the eyes. All she did was look down at the box in his left hand and the bouquet of flowers in his right. She had no idea how he even hid that so well

“Excuse me?” she tried to get out. It was barely understandable, he had to lean over to hear her right.

“I thought you read the letters I wrote? I said I was going to give them personally to you” he said while directing the box and roses towards you.

“Wait, you were the one making the cupcakes?” She asked, starting to think it was all a prank. What was happening. c

“Yes! Why are you so surprised? Didn’t expect me to be good at baking?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. It was the first time she had heard him speak that much.

“I just didn’t expect Theodore Nott to anonymously leave me Red Velvet cupcakes in an attempt to show me he knows my “secret” recipe.” She said while taking the box and flowers in her hands.

“Go ahead, try it!” He said patiently, waiting for her reaction to the cupcakes. She quickly took a cupcake out of the box and slowly brought up a cupcake towards her lips taking a bite while closing her eyes softly.

“Well, you excelled your duties as a baker. It tastes amazing” She responded with a smile. Theodore slowly leaned towards her making her nervously stop dead in her tracks. He passed her thumb against her lips, cleaning the excessive amount of frosting. He quickly pulled his towards his own lips tasting it.

“Took my chances. So, Y/n’s secret recipe is cheesecake filling.”

“Shh, don’t say it too loudly, you’ll ruin the family recipe.” She responded playfully with a smile.

“Sorry, Sorry but you should tell that to Hermione” He said acting confused

“I don’t understand,” Y/n asked, scrunching up her nose.

“She was the one that gave me your grandmas address to owl her for the recipe”

“Wait, you asked my grandma for her recipe? That traitor she told me she had no idea about anyone else knowing about that recipe ”

“Well now we have to keep it in our family” Theodore said winking at her

“Slow down Theo. Take me out to dinner first then I’ll decide if I’ll marry you” She said sarcastically.

“Bold” he laughed

“But seriously, why were you doing all of this in the first place?” She asked, confused.

“You make this cute little face when you bite the cupcakes. I wanted to be the one that made you do that adorable face.”

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore #theodore nott imagine #imagines #masterlist #valentines #golden era #golden trio era #slytherin boys #hp fic #Slytherinboys x reader

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mqybanks · 2 years

Text

HARD TO GET

-pairing; cedric diggory x gn! reader

-tw: none

-genre: fluff

-word count; 1.3k+

-bio: cedric has liked you for a while now, and you knew all too well that he did, so to make things a bit more interesting, you played hard to get

-notes; omg, its been so long since i’ve written for the hp fandom and its been so long since i’ve written on this acc, but im back! (and will try to post fics!) i suddenly have this obsession with cedric now lmao?? reader is a Hufflepuff btw!

Cedric didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at you. His grey eyes followed you as you strode past him, without batting an eye. He opened his mouth to say something, but by the time he could string a sentence together, you were long gone.

You couldn’t help but to stiffle a laugh as you turned a corner, towards your next class, Potions.

Tough luck Diggory” You heard one of his friends snicker, but Cedric just shrugs, shoving his bag further up his shoulder, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was annoyed. But, being the gentleman he was, he didn’t say anything.

Entering Snape’s classroom, you sat down next to your friend, who had got here before you, saving you a seat. “Took you long enough to get here”

You roll your eyes, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. “Diggory was staring at me again” You say, deciding to ignore her words.

Sighing, she replies, “He is so obsessed with you” Pausing for a moment, before continuing, “Why can’t you just like, not ignore him? He’s hot, and this schools heartthrob, and he’s like, so in love with you”

You snort at her words, “Yeah, whatever, he’s not that hot, and he’s not my type” Every word you just spat from your mouth were lies. Cedric is hot, and he is your type, and you were, indeed, in love with him. But you just couldn’t admit that to yourself.

Cedric walks in the class, seeming to have gotten over from what happened in the hall just moments ago. Your eyes avert towards him, watching as he sits down a few rows next to you. Real smooth.

“He’s not my type my ass” Your friend mutters under her breath, “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” You bring your eyes back towards the front of the classroom, where written on the chalk board is “ Amortentia Potions” You inwardly groan. Great way to set the mood.

“Silence!” Snapes voice drawls out, the classroom chatter dying down. He stares at us all for a moment, “Today we will be learning about Amortentia potion, you all learned this in your 5th year so I expect this to be a less... infuriating lesson”

He continues on, rambling on and on, sending glares towards students that weren’t writing his points down. You weren’t even half-listening to what Snape was saying until- “We will be making these potions in pairs, in hope that you won’t mess this up”

The chatter comes back, but is silenced almost immediately again when Snape says “I Will be picking partners” Groans and quite complains are heard across the room. Snape, who seemed to be unbothered by this, continues to read a list lazily.

Some kids groan when they hear who they’re partnered with, others quickly run towards their partners with smiles on their faces. You didn’t particularly care who you were with, as long as they didn’t make you do all the work.

“Y/n L/n and Cedric Diggory”

Shit. The odds weren’t in your favor today.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Cedric grin. You didn’t know how to exactly feel.

“Guess we’re partners, huh?” Cedric pulls the chair next to you and sits down. Avoiding eve contact you reply “Yeah, guess so”

Why am I... nervous?

Why am I sweating?

Oh Merlin, he's staring at me

Oh Merlin, his eyes are pretty

"Hello? Earth to Y/n?"

You snap your head toward him, “Are you like in another world or something?” he asks jokingly, giving you a smile. You took the time to notice the little crinkle in his eyes when he did that.

You scoff silently, "Shouldn't we be like working?" You ask, changing the subject "If I'm correct it says here that we need to gather... Ashwinder Eggs, Rose thorns, Peppermint, Powdered Moonstone, Pear dust and... rose petals?"

“Nope, Snape’s handing it out” He stops momentarily to Snape who was a few tables ahead of us, “Don’t think he trusts us with those ‘precious’ ingredients”

You raise an eyebrow, “I wonder why” Cedric lets out a short laugh.

“So...” He leans onto the table, tilting his head a bit, “So like, the Hogsmeade weekend is coming up, and I was wondering if yo-”

CLUNK

“Less talking, More working” Snape hisses, “If any of you spill this, you’re getting detention for a week” He continues, specifically looking at you, before heading towards the pair behind you two.

“As I was saying, I was wondering if you’d maybe want to.. uh... go to Hogsmeade with me?” He asks, he gives a shy smile, “But uh its ok if you don’t wanna, I can go with someone else...”

You pondered it for a moment. On one hand, you wanted to go with him, I mean, after all, you did have a... TINY crush on him, but on the contrary, you couldn’t let him know that you liked him! He was basically asking you out! And, you were curious about what would happen if you rejected him.

“Hmm..” You pretended to be deep in thought, “Sorry, I already promised my friend I’d go with him” You didn’t promise anyone you’d go to Hogsmeade- in fact, you were planning on staying back, but you wanted to see how this would play out.

“Oh?” He seemed disappointed, “Well, what about getting Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks? Unless you’re already going with your... friend” His voice narrows at the end of the sentence.

“Maybe if I have the time, he said he wants to tell me something... special” You smirk, as you stir the cauldron 3 times clockwise, steam starting the pour out of it. A strong aroma surrounds you.

“Really? Well, I also have something special to tell you” He says back, a mix of annoyance in his voice that you’ve never heard before.

You snort, “Jealous much, Diggory?”

His face suddenly turns red, his eyes dropping to towards the table, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound...”

“Jealous? Angry?”

He groans, “Yeah, Jealous... I suppose”

"Really? Thats new" You say, teasingly, adding the final ingredient, rose petals, into the potion. Due to it not looking nor smelling horrible, you considered it somewhat a success.

“What does it smell like to you?” he asks, looking genuinely curious. You sniff it, giving it a moment to settle in. It smells good... an intoxicating kind of good, something that you can’t get enough of.

“Old books.. A hint of Vanilla, and uhm... butterscotch?”

“Really? Mine smells like... you”

Oh.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” He asks, a teasing smile plastered across his face.

“What?! Y- No! Why would I- you’re hopeless Diggory!” You groan in frustration, you looked away, trying to hide your face, Merlin, it was probably as red as a tomatoe.

Snape stops the class, examining the potions, finding a flaw in every potion that he came across. Th eespecially quote on quote “atrocious” ones, he gave a sharp look too, growled a “see me after class” and moved on.

When he gets to your table, his eyes move from you- then to Cedric- then to the potion, gave a half-satisfied grunt, and left. That went better then you expected.

“Hopefully next class will be... better then this one” Snape says coldly, as he moves to the front, “Write 3 parchments of why Amortentia is highly dangerous and should not be used, that’ll be due by... lets see, on Monday. Class is dismissed”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly grab your books, shoving them into your bag. You hadn’t even realized how long had passed, Cedric was too busy flirting with you.

“So... ” Cedric stops you before you’re able to get away, “Hogsmeade this weekend? Unless you’re...”

“I was kidding about that”

“Oh? Oh really? So... is that a yes?” he asks, almost timidly.

“Yeah, I guess” As you entered into the crowded hallway, his grin bigger then before “I’ll see you soon, Diggory”

“Yeah, see you later Y/n”

tagging some moots ! @lex-the-flex @clarrissanewt @remuslupininskirts @curseofaphrodite @artqueenjames @i-do-random-things-do-not-ask

#dilfdieqo #wil actually writing fics omg?#cedric diggory #cedric x reader #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter #hp #cedric #reader x cedric #reader x cedric diggory #harry potter x reader #harry potter goblet of fire #fanfic #harry potter boys x reader #harry potter films

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eggymf-archived · 1 year

Text

of paper planes and wildflowers; 02

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)

chapter warnings: nsfw, semi-public sex, almost getting caught, cunnilingus, fingering, implied squirting, accidental creampie, not proofread, unedited

chapter summary: scandalous rumors, secret rendezvous, and unsanctioned duels within the castle grounds? oh no, what a mess.

word count: 3.6k

a/n: this was way behind schedule. regardless, enjoy the food i guess.

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

Eversince the start of your 5th year, Hogwarts has been buzzing with many stories and rumors compared to the previous years. These tales range from being painfully mundane to being the most outlandish story to have ever graced anyone’s gossip-hungry ears. The star of this year’s show, however, is the mysterious 5th year who had just started their schooling this year: almost getting murdered by a dragon or getting targeted by dark wizards isn’t normal for a student, after all. Whilst you also had your fair share of secrets, you’ve always kept it well under-wraps and as far away as possible from the gossip mongers of the school.

But this time, the filthiest secret you’ve ever had so far has left your reputation hanging by a dainty little thread, ready to snap the moment you step a toe out of line.

“Have you heard about this odd activity that happened within the library recently?”

Your ears perked up as you overheard Cressida Blume mention one of the cursed places that has been haunting your mind for the last month. You leaned slightly closer, attempting to drown out the violin quartet playing in the background.

“No, I haven’t. But I heard that the portraits there have been talking about it every now and then,” Lenora Everleigh replied to her. “What about it?”

“They’ve been talking about hearing certain activities relating to.... Wait, let me whisper it to you instead. It’s rather... Explicit.”

Cressida leaned to Lenora’s ear, whispering the remaining details while Lenora’s eyes widened more and more by the second.

“Merlin! That’s absolutely scandalous!” Lenora gasped in obvious disapproval.

You were snapped out of your eavesdropping when Natsai’s fingers gave a loud snap right in front of your face. You turned towards her who was giving you a confused look.

“Goodness. It’s not like you to listen to rumors,” she pointed out as she sat beside you. “Must’ve been a huge one to get your attention.”

“I didn’t hear much to be honest. Something about the library?” you asked, flipping through your Charms textbook once again.

“I heard about that one recently,” Garreth chipped in. “Something about some students engaging in some late-night mischief a few weeks ago I think? Not really sure when.”

“Didn’t expect you to be quite a gossip yourself, Garreth!” Natsai laughed.

"Now, now. It's just something I've heard floating about in the common room. The Fat Lady has her way of getting good gossip every now and then," Garreth reasoned, opening a box of every-flavored beans for the three of you to share.

“But that’s kind of normal though, isn’t it? Sallow sneaks into the restricted section a lot, you know,” you said, casually popping a flavored bean into your mouth.

“Ah, but that’s the thing. It’s not Sebastian who is involved. It’s two students doing y'know? That,” Garreth explained cryptically, patting his thigh multiple times in hopes that the both of you got the hint. You choked on the flavored bean, erupting in a mild coughing fit.

“Wait, don’t tell me it’s what I think it is?” Natsai gasped, putting two and two together. Garreth leaned closer while you and Natsai mirrored his actions.

“The portraits did say that they didn’t manage to see their faces. But it was clear that the two were both doing something quite raunchy near the Transfiguration Section,” Garreth muttered to both you and Natsai.

“Goodness, what on earth were they thinking?!” Natsai whispered in utter disbelief while you felt a small bead of cold sweat trickle down your temple.

“There’s also another rumor going around about hearing unusual noises from the broom closets every now and then. Others are speculating it’s another one of those couples but I think it’s just Peeves pulling on the caretaker’s leg,” Garreth continued. You paled slightly, recalling your recent activities.

“I sure hope so. What a mess!” Natsai agreed.

“I agree,” you piped in, snapping out of your thoughts. “What a mess.”

“Oh Merlin, please fucking end me right now,” you bemoaned inwardly.

Ominis surprisingly did keep his end of the bargain - it was only the actions that the two of you had done that the portraits of the library knew of, but not a single soul has connected that incident to the both of you. Thanks to his cooperation, everything was back to how it normally was - for the most part, that is. You were still pressured with your OWLs, tagging along into random agendas either with Garreth or Natsai, having your own dangerous silly adventures outside the school grounds, along with a new (and unfortunate) addition to the list: snogging Ominis Gaunt in secret.

It was not your proudest moment, but it is what it is.

Somewhere deep down, you were most certainly aware that your last words to Ominis on that night would eventually be nulled - it’s just that you hadn’t expected to cave in that easily to him. Every time he pulls you into a random broom closet or in any corner away from prying eyes, your resolve just ends up melting and you give into his whims without a second thought. The both of you never got caught thanks to his impeccable timings, but luck doesn’t stay in one place for long and you feared the dire consequences of it all.

Everything about him was against your own morals and upbringing - he was a pureblood, directly related to Salazar Slytherin himself, and his family members are known to be dark wizards and witches. Meanwhile, both of your parents are muggleborns, with your mother being adopted into a well-off family of half-bloods. Your family members were either members of the Wizengamot or they were Aurors - anything or anyone that could be linked to the Dark Arts was absolutely not tolerated.

Unbeknownst to you, however, Ominis was also in a similar state of confusion as you were. The young Gaunt prided himself as a well-mannered gentleman with solid principles as opposed to his other blood relatives, yet eversince he had a taste of the forbidden fruit he never thought he’d even acquire in any way, he couldn’t stop yearning to consume more of it. Nevermind the purity of your blood or whatever his impressions were on you: he was more concerned with the fact that the both of you were engaging in activities that only married couples would do.

The both of you weren’t in love. Hell, you weren’t even friends with him.

So who were you to him exactly?

Merlin forbid, as much as he didn’t really like you, he wouldn’t go as far as branding you as something derogatory and unsavory. If he ever did, he was most likely too consumed in the throes of passion.

In the past month of your ongoing secret rendezvous with the misty-eyed male, the both of you have never done anything as intense as that fateful night aside from the passionate kisses. After all, it was a lot more difficult to partake in taboo while you were in the right state of mind, but the both of you end up partially succumbing to the sweet temptation every single time. You sighed, rubbing your temples in frustration.

This has to stop, and you’ll end it all today.

As you were tidying your books and parchment up after Charms class, a familiar paper crane circled around your head before landing on your desk. You grabbed the paper immediately and headed to the back of the classroom, unfolding it secretly.

Clocktower. 3pm.

You flicked your wand at the piece of paper, disintegrating it into tiny dust-like particles.

Ominis has been at the clocktower courtyard for the last hour. It was one of the least rowdy places within Hogwarts unless Lucan Brattleby was organizing another unsanctioned duelling activity amongst his fellow students. According to Sebastian, however, there won’t be another Crossed Wands tournament anytime soon due to many of the secret duelling club’s members being more preoccupied with their academic-related activities.

To put it simply, this place was most likely where you and him could have a decent conversation - presently, that is. Ominis would rather not disclose his actual hideout to someone he considers as a stranger after all: it was his own sanctuary that only certain people in his already small circle are given privy to, and he intends to keep it that way. The young Gaunt has been giving his current predicament a lot of thought, and in that moment, he has arrived to a sound conclusion.

With the rumors of your mistake with him circulating around in hushed whispers, it was rather obvious what the best solution was to address this problem. After all, Sebastian’s dubious escapades with Skylar Evans, the new 5th year, was already a huge problem on its own. Another source of trouble would be too much for poor Ominis to handle.

“Oh, you’re here early.”

Ah, speak of the devil.

You approached Ominis, who was leaning against the metal railings with his arms crossed. An uncomfortably awkward silence looms over the both of you.

“Listen. I-

“We need to-”

Silence.

You took a deep breath.

“We should stop this,” you breathed out, breaking the stillness of the situation. Ominis nodded and hummed in agreement, listening intently as you poured out your repressed emotions regarding the matter.

“I can’t risk anyone finding out about this. People are already talking about the things we did and we’re on thin ice! My parents would kill me if they found out, so it’s better if we just-”

Ominis’ eyebrows furrowed.

“Shh!”

You gaped at him, scoffing in disbelief at his display of blatant disrespect.

“Did you just--” you were cut off again by Ominis, who shushed you more aggressively. Much to your horror, distinct chatter from multiple students were suddenly getting closer and closer to the wooden door leading to the connecting bridge. In a moment of panic, Ominis grabbed your wrist. He slammed the nearby storage door open and closed it shut once the both of you were out of sight. The both of you stood still in a corner behind several neatly stacked crates that was almost the height of the door. Both your frames are concealed rather well - that is, if anyone else doesn’t bother to enter and scour the room.

“Oi, Leander! Help me out with the training dummies, will you?!” Lucan Brattleby shouted as more and more students poured into the clocktower courtyard.

You felt your cheeks grow red with frustration and embarrassment.

“Really, Gaunt?! We could’ve just walked off!” you hissed angrily.

“And risk letting others find out while you run your mouth?!” he hissed back just as harshly in obvious vexation.

“That doesn’t mean you had to drag me into a storage room!”

“Quiet down, will you?! You’ll get us caught!”

“No, you shut up! I can’t believe this!”

Your hushed bickering with Ominis was stopped abruptly when a particularly loud clatter near the door caused you to squeak in response. You clung onto Ominis’ robes while he instinctively placed both his hands on your waist. Both of your breaths are labored, laced with the evident fear of getting caught. You jolted as you heard the sounds of metal clanging harshly against stone from the other side of the door. Ominis pressed his lips into a firm line, suppressing both his chuckle and a teasing smirk from surfacing on his normally calm demeanor.

As much as he hated to admit it, you were rather adorable when you weren’t so uptight and composed.

“Would you look at that? Didn’t expect you to be all jumpy about this,” he sneered, causing you to seethingly glare at him.

“Oh, shush! This is all your fault!” you fumed. Deep down, however, you were growing ever so flustered with how close Ominis was.

“Really, now? You seem to be rather comfy in my presence, though,” Ominis scoffed, tapping his fingers on your waist. “I’d say you’re enjoying yourself.”

Before you could push the insufferable male off you, he quickly flipped you over: your back was now against the wall, and his hand was cushioning your head from hitting the hard stone surface while the other remained on your waist. You glared at him half-heartedly.

“Gaunt, I swear. If you-”

He captures your lips with his. You froze on the spot with wide eyes. You felt your rage slowly dissipating as he moved his lips against yours, ensnaring you once again within the warmth of his physical affection.

“You talk too much,” he breathed against your lips before diving back into the kiss. You whimpered as he presses his body closer to yours while you gently rake your nails against his back.

And just like that, you fell hook, line, and sinker right into his trap once again.

To say that the both of you missed each other's touch was a complete understatement - soft whimpers and pants erupted from your now bitten red lips as Ominis utterly devoured you with sinful vigor. You partook in the addictive taste of his tongue, entangling it with your own as he reached for the clasps of your cloak, deftly undoing it.

His veined, slender hands reached for your delicate neck, giving it a teasing little squeeze before drifting to your necktie. You felt the fabric loosen as he pulled the knot gently, and the hand that was once cushioning the back of your head was now at the small of your back. Instinctively, you wrapped one of your legs around his waist, earning an appreciative groan from the lithe-framed male. He rolled his hips against your heated core while you pushed your body closer to his as he broke the kiss off. You stared at his moon-like eyes, puffs of hot breath fanning across each other's lips. He rested his forehead against yours before gently leaning in for another kiss.

Gone were your reservations as Ominis began to unbutton your blouse impatiently, pulling the coverings of your chest down to reveal your supple mounds. You whined softly as you felt his wet appendage flick against your stiff peaks while you ran your fingers through his scalp. Ominis moaned against your skin, taking in your sweet, heady scent as he continued to pleasure you with his skilled tongue.

Featherlight touches trailed down from your heaving chest all the way to your cloth-covered legs, heading right into your inner thigh. Nimble fingers maneuvered itself onto your concealed center, rubbing languid circles. Ominis’ breath hitched as he felt your juices seep through the woolen fabric of your tights. The clear fluid coated the tips of his digits instantly.

A gasp bubbled from your lips when Ominis knelt in front of you, his face dangerously close to your groin. Your eyes widened as you felt your quivering legs being spread further apart. He had wedged himself in between them, scrunching the front of your skirt up as he lightly inhaled the addictive scent of your arousal. His mouth closed onto the wet patch, licking the seeping fluid off the fabric while his thumb traced the seams of your crotch.

Riiiiip!

You let out a squeak as you felt the cool air touch your now exposed, soaked-through knickers. He moved the fabric to the side, while you quivered as you felt your essence dribble from your hole.

“Oh fuuuck...” he breathed against your core, taking in the sweet, musky scent of your exposed pussy. You bit your lip, groaning as you felt his tongue sneak right through your folds. Ominis threw one of your legs over his shoulder while you muffled your mewls of pleasure with your palm. The faint, raunchy sounds of squelches, groans, labored breaths and occasional hums of approval from the male kneeling before you sent your mind into a pleasure-filled haze.

“Oh...! F-fuck yes! Please...!” you whimpered deliriously, grinding your heated center against his face. He suckled on your sensitive little pearl while tracing the outer rim of your hole with two slender fingers. You gasped as he inserted both digits all at once, instantly setting a mind-melting pace while circling his tongue around your clit. Tremors racked through your limbs deliciously and blood rushed right into your head as you kept receiving waves upon waves of pleasure.

Ominis groaned at the sudden violent tug on his head, yet he persisted with his pace. You felt an oh so familiar burning sensation crawling up from the tip of your toes, creeping up higher and higher as you approach your release.

“P-please..! Don’t stop! O-oh! Yesyesyes…!”

Your hushed pleas nearly turned into loud cries as he plunged another finger within your weeping hole, still maintaining the same brutal, toe-curling speed. Euphoria surged through your veins, prompting you to cover your mouth as you let out a muffled moan. Ominis groaned as he felt your walls convulse against his digits. A gush of warm, scentless liquid sprayed out from your poor trembling pussy.

The aftershocks of your mind-blowing orgasm had rendered you almost boneless. Ominis’ mind totally blanked out after fully realizing what had just transpired.

A growl rumbled from his chest as he stood up, claiming your lips for a brief moment while squeezing your neck gently. His hand reached for his trousers, undoing the clothing article and slipping them off halfway. You eagerly palmed his painfully erect shaft though his underwear - a sense of cocky pride bubbled within your chest when you brushed against a wet patch on the fabric. Ominis pressed you against the wall, hooking your leg up on his arm while the other freed his swollen member from its confines.

You purred in delight as you felt the blunt tip rub itself along your slit before plunging in completely within a single thrust. Wind was knocked out of your lungs, your eyes prickling with pleasured tears. Ominis nuzzled your neck as he bucked his hips against yours, slowly plowing his member deep within your pussy. His cock twitched against your gummy walls as he rolls his hips languidly, relishing the sensation of your drenched, velvety core.

His thrusts this time around was deliciously slow and deep - it was as if he was savoring you. Your walls were in a complete frenzy: fluttering around his shaft at every thrust and clamping whenever it brushes against your sensitive spot. You gasped dizzily, feeling open-mouthed kisses land itself onto the burning skin of your neck. Ominis had left a trail of blooming love marks all over your neck and chest - a telltale sign that his inhibitions were completely non-existent at this point.

“Mine,” he rasped, suckling on your clavicle. His words caused a pleasant tingle shoot within your core, causing it to constrict in response. Soft, light-headed giggles spilled from your lips.

You fucking loved the sound of that - being his, and his alone.

Ominis hissed, feeling a familiar bubble forming deep within his groin. The smooth tip repeatedly nudged against your sweet spot within, and your mouth gasped soundlessly as his thrusts became more erratic and harsh.

“F-fuck! I’m close...!” you whined breathlessly, feeling your thighs quiver involuntarily as you approach another high. Ominis’ lips latched itself on yours to muffle your increasingly loud whimpers.

Meanwhile, Lucan Brattleby quirked an eyebrow as he heard shuffling and unknown faint noises coming from the door behind him. The curly-haired boy was bemused - he didn’t recall anyone entering the storage room while the duelling club was doing its usual activities. He knocked on the wooden surface.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

You were snapped out of your drunken state, your eyes now completely wide open. Ominis paid no mind however - in fact, the situation seemed to have flipped a switch deep inside him. He smirked against your lips, thrusting deeper and harder into your core. You pleadingly sobbed, attempting to push the male off you who then pushed his weight on you in retaliation.

The door then swings open, causing Ominis to bury his cock as deep as he could. Your eyes rolled back with tears running down your cheeks as your body succumbed to the filthily shameless pleasure. Your walls constricted and convulsed around his throbbing member, and you felt hot spurts of his seed spill within you. The both of you stood still with bated breath.

Lucan frowned, his eyes scanning across the now deathly quiet room.

“Huh. Must’ve been my imagination,” he muttered, closing the door.

You hurriedly barged into your room, making a beeline for your bed. Rummaging through the built-in underbed drawer, you pulled out a small phial containing a rose-hued potion. You quickly chugged the liquid down, and hid the empty bottle back into the drawer.

Sighing exasperatedly, you gathered a fresh set of clothes, toiletries, and a towel before making your way to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

You shivered as the cold water hit your still heated bare skin, but your mind was still fixated on your little encounter with Ominis. The way he was both gentle yet domineering drove your still hazed-out little head into a state of confusion. You bit your lip, gazing down at the purplish marks that littered your chest. You were sure there were more on your neck too.

"That damned Gaunt..." you cursed half-heartedly as you felt blood rush towards your cheeks.

You recalled the little details of the alabaster-skinned male: his opal eyes, supple skin, the beauty marks on his face, his toned yet elegant frame, deft fingers, kissable lips, irresistible scent...

Ba-thump... Ba-thump...

“No. Absolutely not,” you firmly told yourself, letting the cold water cleanse you from your filth. You let out a faint shuddering moan as you felt a thick warm liquid dribble down your legs. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as the milky globs of his essence made its way down the drain.

Thank Merlin for emergency contraceptive potions.

< chapter 1: liquid luck? or liquid fuck. 🔞

chapter 3: the wingman with wings >

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x f!reader #ominis gaunt smut #ominis smut #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x reader #ominis x you #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy smut

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liketwoswansinbalance · 4 months

Text

Round IV of an Excerpt from The One True School Master of Vault 41

Let’s just say I was inspired by Soman’s short story, “The Prince’s Club.”

⸻

“Yes,” she reasserted. “You’re dead. I know it. I’ve proved it again and again, every single time I’ve doubted it. Just because my senses are telling me you’re real doesn’t mean I can trust them or you. This hallucination will not undermine the truth. You can’t exist. You only exist in my head. You’re a product of my mind.”

Rafal decided to defer to her for the time being. “Well then, while I'm still here, as long as I last, for my temporary stay in… your head, why argue? Why not make the most of the time we have? And, why bother to send me away? Am I not fit to hold a simple conversation with you?”

“You inhabit my dreams and nightmares,” she scorched. “That’s it! I’m still not awake.”

“Really? What is it that you dream of, when you dream of me?”

“Ah, well… it usually vacillates between you kissing me and me killing you,” Sophie confided.

“What else? Go on,” Rafal prompted, treading lightly. “ I want to know.”

Sophie hesitated. “All right.” She looked away from him, and began her recitation.

“There have been others, far more bizarre ones, I suppose. Er, in one, I refused your ring and you jumped to your death. You’ve fed me to Stymphs, you’ve imprisoned me in an enormous bird cage, you’ve chained me to the ground by my ankles, and I don’t know why, it was not the worse one by far, but I wept, and you told me to shut up because you had a migraine. I kept sobbing, and finally, you handed me a pike and told me to run you through the head because you couldn’t take it anymore. You’ve driven a letter opener through my throat because you weren’t having enough reading my mind as it was and thought you could pry open my vocal cords and cut out my tongue. You’ve… ahem, taken me down with a literal scythe, you’ve flown me into the center of the sun… and uh, you’ve serenaded me with a lute while wearing these horrendously obsequious pantaloons. I was wearing a lovely, lavender hennin, decked with tulle in that one. Some of my classmates pelted you with spoiled fruit. And, in another, I stood by while Tedros carved out your eyes and then turned you into a stone statue for Merlin's Menagerie. I cleaved off your ears because you hadn’t listened to me about getting a haircut. Agatha did not partake in your mutilation, but she did cheer exuberantly. Can’t blame her though—it wasn’t the real Agatha. Then, I planted a pomegranate tree in your honor. That nightmare was rather lurid. It still haunts me. Come to think of it, your hair does fall into your eyes. I think it would look better if it hit a bit higher above your brows. Yet another time, you were unspeakably upset for no particular reason, stamped your foot until you opened a rift in the ground, tore yourself into two like you were made of gingerbread, and then, the split parts fell through the earth. I was also mad because you’d eaten the honeycomb for one of my beauty routines, but I didn’t get upset like you did,” she accused. “Another night, I tied you to a bedpost and gagged you with a satin pincushion. You looked quite comical, but wouldn’t stop mumbling. My nails were bloody and I had torn cuticles for some reason. I think you ruined my manicure. And all the Old villains and the New students besieged you and got a good whack in while you were restrained, and the whole bed frame creaked until the bed collapsed on itself. You’d broken free from the binds, splintering the wood. You blew them to ashes. Then, you put me in a glass bauble. Everything looked colorful and distorted, and I think I must’ve died of suffocation because I don’t seem to recall the rest. One night, we sat atop the framework of a gallows where the waxen corpses were still strung up, with very fine sewing thread, no less, and you told me you thought my glass slippers were a laughingstock and that I was no match for Cinderella. Then you smoked a pipe. We went ice-skating, and you fell through the solid ice and simply disappeared. Or was that the one where you drowned in a pit of ashes, compressed into diamond dust that I used to decorate the borders of my stationary with? All that aside, I laughed and then some force sucked me down after you, as if it were a portal to Hell. Agatha grew wings and tried to save me to no avail. I swallowed the glacial water and, and, um… then I woke up. And… uh, that’s most all of them. The recent ones, at least.”

She pinked egregiously, and glanced back at him nervously to gauge his reaction.

Rafal wore an exaggerated scowl, to keep his laughter at bay, and he’d bitten down on his lip hard, dribbling blood. He wiped the blood on his sleeve.

Sophie curled her lips at the sight of yet another stain, but it didn’t truly matter because his jacket was already doused in blood.

Rafal cleared his throat breathlessly, and tried to speak, but no words came out. He started again. “Hmm… well then. That confirms you’re a Reader.” Disarmed, he scratched his neck as it reddened.

“Yes,” she agreed awkwardly.

⸻

Any reactions anyone? And did you catch the references I made? I’d love to get concrit on this one.

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